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The Hunter and the Templar	By : BurneHazard Category: +A through F > Diablo III Views: 6473 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Diablo III (3) and all content therein is the property of Blizzard Entertainment. This story is for entertainment purposes only and I make no money from writing it.

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            Killashandra had to admit that Haedrig's promise about his skills was no idle boast. His armor thus far had outlasted most of what her typical gear would have and although each piece was eventually ruined through her struggles, the next pieces he made improved. So too did his newest work as she finished fastening the last piece in place and turned her attention to taking in the full view.
            There were more plates of metal over leather, almost completely embracing her body. Each one was able to interlock and shift with her. Metal embraced her ribs and sides in a sharper semblance of the bones beneath save it layered to leave no gaps. Likewise metal guarded her upper and lower arms and thighs. The shoulder armor bore curved spikes in a single line for protection while the arm-shield for her bow arm mirrored the spiked design along the outer edge. The bracer on the other arm was a smaller version without the shield.
            After the success of the last boots, Haedrig had made the new ones in the same design with talons protecting the slight raise of the heel and encasing the toes for her traction. Small shields curved about either side of her knees and projected up along her thighs. Mail that looked far stronger than the last undercoat protected every joint and much of her upper thighs so she could crouch and move without metal impeding her.
            It was truly impressive. But the color was what truly struck her. The armor was of a rich fire-red edged in black as if charred by flame. The mail was also black to make the red-gold plates stand out. Combined with a hood of mail surrounded by red cloth, weighted along the top of her skull and about the face, the armor made her look as she was supposed to look: a hunter of demons. What she could not see was that her eyes glowed the same fiery orange color beneath the shadow cast by the hood.
            "This is...quite acceptable, Haedrig. But...why red?"
            "Ah, because that's the colors of the keep ya fight for. There's been enough guards pass through it seemed only fittin'. That and, it suits you. Makes the men see that the one that gave them hope will keep fighting for them. They'll continue to hold the demon horde back. So why not honor their sacrifice?"
            She smiled as she drew the heavy mail-cloth mask up to secure it over her lower face. It would protect from the frigid wind as well as ensure additional protection. "You really are a sentimental one, blacksmith. I'm honored. And I'm certain this will serve me well."
            "Bah!" he gruffly waved her thanks off and turned away. "Just go kill those bloody demons. And remind 'em why it's a mistake to bother us."
            Chuckling at the smith, she bowed her head and retreated. The armor moved a bit differently than she was used to. It felt...more like a second skin. It moved as it was supposed to move and filled her with an even stronger sense of power. For a moment she found herself wondering if perhaps Haedrig did not have a little magic of his own for such creations.
            He had even replaced her bow with another that felt stronger. Testing the string, she found more tension. It was harder to draw but of no challenge for her. Yes, it would serve her well. Quivers filled with arrows and ready for use, Killa felt more ready for her final battle than she ever had upon any other hunt. She was aware of darkness and hatred seething within, waiting to be unleashed. And there was the feeling of finality quickly approaching.
            "Lyndon, are you ready?" she called as she made her way back to the corner they were sequestered in.
            To her mild surprise, there was only one person there.
            "He is helping Eirena with the wounded, hunter. I will be your shield once more," Kormac said as he pulled his helmet on and fastened it in place.
            Pausing at the top of the shallow stairs, she regarded him. And for once, she noticed the attention was mutual. She had not taken much time to really study him or his armor before. The plate was heavy and added to his bulk. Primarily silver, it was gilded in bronze. The design was simple without any embellishment save for touches of blue layered beneath for insulation against the cold.
            His shield was nearly white in comparison and had the most artistry about it bearing an antiquated bronze cross for reinforcement and edged in thick bronze bars. A single blue-tinted stone rested at the heart of the cross and flashed in the light when he moved. It matched several smaller stones set into the cover of his prized holy tome chained to his belt. He had never shown her what rested within its pages and she had never been curious enough to ask.
            "Haedrig does...impressive work."
            "That is what I told him."
            Kormac smiled at that before starting to tuck a scarf around the lower portion of his helmet. Even with his heavy armor, he still felt the cold more keenly than she did and had finally stopped trying to pretend it did not affect him. It was one small step in a better direction so she never made anything of the change.
            "Very well then. Are you ready?"
            His answer was to strike the shield on his arm with his free fist. The sound was a sharp crack of thunder. Unbeknownst to him, it was the same salute that she had seen before used by the barbarians that she had often come across in the Dreadlands. It made her smile and relax at the nostalgic familiarity.
            Nodding, she moved toward the gates. The guards they passed--wounded and healthy--watched and most snapped to attention as they passed. She paid them no mind, focusing herself on the task ahead. The battlefields called and they were going to answer in such a way they would be silenced. Perhaps not forever, but for a long time to come after she had departed.

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`
            The last of the ballistae had fallen. The field had been almost completely cleared of demons when Azmodan ordered them to find and kill her. Stop her. They failed. Tyrael met them and the handful of scattered soldiers that had been rescued on the bridge. The small troop formed up quickly to hold the bridge and along with Tyrael they pressed on. Not even the siegebreaker posed much of an obstacle, although at last Killa found a hint of a challenge.
            So focused on the next demon, she missed the concerned look exchanged between Kormac and Tyrael before the ex-angel left with Adria to ensure Leah remained in control of the black soulstone. That, and he claimed it was Killa's task to destroy the Sin Hearts. In truth, he saw in her eyes something he had seen many times before...in the eyes of his enemies in Pandemonium. Kormac could only follow her through the gate as her prior attempt to make him swear to kill her plagued his mind.
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The Hunter and the Templar