Marlowe and Viera rushed through the undergrowth. They’d been patrolling the area of Dhadan Forest for a few days now; a big change from their previous regime of travel. Hell, the past few days had been almost calm. He had struggled to push the events of the past month out of his mind, to lay who he was by the wayside. It was a new year. It was a new chance to begin again. A chance to have some sort of normal life without the looming threat of The Order. Of course he couldn’t have that. [center][img]http://peterbaxterafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Page-Divider.png[/img][/center] Just one month ago he was battling. Not just for him, not just for Viera, but for everyone’s lives. Rin—his ally and dear friend who’d fought alongside him since he found himself lost in Dun—Rin had joined The Order. He’d killed innocent lives. He’d laid waste to the man he once was. And yet Marlowe still tried to save him, to bring his friend back. Rin had killed one of their own. Lexi Uael—no, Lexi Rauzil. The young woman they had helped so early in their adventure had made a life with Mathis Rauzil. They had a daughter, a home, a life together. And Rin took that away from them. Marlowe remembered the night they buried Lexi. Rauz had taken him aside. “Kill him.” “Rauz, he’s our friend—we have to try and—“ “He killed my wife!” His voice was quiet, hissing quiet. Something unlike Rauz. He grabbed Marlowe’s collar, bringing him close to his face. “He took [i]everything[/i] from me.” A baby’s cry came from nearby, and Rauz let go of Marlowe, walking off. “He doesn’t [i]deserve[/i] mercy.” Rin burned towns. Marlowe fought back, begging his friend to stop. Begging him to come back. And in that fight, in that moment Marlowe ignored the wounded, the dying, all to fight Rin. Kath had saved many of them, Kath and Deya had done their duty as members of the Vann. And Kath and Deya left Marlowe. A punch. Cold words. “You are no different than them.” The words echoed in his heart. Months of fighting, of blood. They’d met Mikael. They’d met Anaria. And they finally found Rin. At the heart of it all, Marlowe only found more death, and betrayal. And in that despair, Marlowe did give into that bloodlust, tearing through his enemies like a mindless beast. He remembered Viera’s face, her hands covered in blood—not his blood. Staring at him as he tore men apart to feed the hatred inside of him. The euphoria gave him pleasure, it gave him happiness to tear apart his enemies. But the memory of that moment made him sick. There was nausea that related to the smell of blood now, nausea that came back as he fought. It terrified him, thinking of letting that darkness back inside, and giving himself to it. The thought of Viera ever looking at him like that again, or Kath’s own anger at being proved right, or even the idea of never being able to look at his hands without seeing the blood staining his hands. He never wanted that again. [center][img]http://peterbaxterafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Page-Divider.png[/img][/center] “Come on, I think the screaming came from this clearing!” Viera had pushed ahead of Marlowe, pushing the brush aside. They weren’t running full blast; but keeping an open eye ahead of them. The Order loved springing traps. Especially against someone as foolish as Marlowe. [center][img]http://peterbaxterafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Page-Divider.png[/img][/center] He’d saved Rin. He couldn’t kill his friend, and as he stood over his comrade, his feet deep in white snow stained red with blood—his blood and Rin’s blood. The blade raised above him, willing to end his friend’s life for good. “Do it.” Rin’s eyes locked with Marlowe’s. “Kill me. I can’t live with this pain. Knowing what I’ve done.” He couldn’t. He carried Rin back to town, back to his friends. He was tired of the bloodshed and the fighting. He just wanted to go home with his friends. And for a moment, it seemed things would finally be normal. Viera admitted her feelings for him. Rin was healing. Mikael wasn’t drinking as much. There was peace in the new year. And then, on the first day of the New Year, Rin gathered his gear and met with Marlowe outside of the inn in Dunric. “I’m going to head out.” “You’re kidding, right? You haven’t even healed up completely.” “I need some time to think. I need time to figure out who I am.” “We know who you are. You’re Rin. You’re our friend.” “Marlowe. The things I did—the people I killed. I see them. Every time I close my eyes, I see what I’ve done.” “It wasn’t yo—“ “It WAS me. It was a part of me. The part that wants power, that wants to be the strongest. The Order, they find a way to get into your mind, to whisper your secret desires to you.” He closed his eyes. “I need some time away from Dun. Away from this war.” And Rin left. [center][img]http://peterbaxterafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Page-Divider.png[/img][/center] They’d stopped running, and had stealthily approached the clearing. Marlowe wanted to groan as he saw the gruesome twosome of Delios and Lathilos. The sniper was usually hiding, so this was a good chance to take him down before he had a chance to run away and take potshots from the trees. But Lathilos was always a hell of an enemy with that damned Warhammer of his. Marlowe looked to Viera. “You’re going to be mad at me. But someone has to interrupt them before they hurt the girl. I’m going to distract them; I need you to hit them from the side while they’re focused on me.” Viera nodded to him, as Marlowe moved through the brush. For the gear he had been carrying, spending two years in Dun had made him well equipped to travel throughout the swamp and brush. Especially when it meant sneaking up on assholes like The Order. This was his chance to hit them hard before they had a chance to hit them. As Aza told the men to stay away, Marlowe’s voice broke the silence. “You know, the lady said to back off. I know a scumbag like Delios thinks of that as a chance to really get the creepiness going, but I’m really disappointed in you Lathilos. You’re always talking about how you’re the good guy. And you’re scaring this young lady!” Marlowe grinned viciously at the two men, bringing his right hand to the pommel of the great sword on his back. “To be honest, I’m always happy for a chance to get even with the two of you.” Where was the third? Did they really send two to chase after a woman?