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The Hunter and the Templar	By : BurneHazard Category: +A through F > Diablo III Views: 6471 -:- 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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            When she woke, it was not with screams or thrashing. Although anyone else might have done so after the dreams that had come, Killashandra was used to them. Dreams for her always ended the same horrible way. She used them to keep her hatred and rage powerful and focused. Her second mentor had been a little concerned upon learning such a fact but in the end he had agreed it served her well and was a useful tool. However, she did often shift around restlessly during the dreams which was likely why she had turned to face the fire.
            A warm, solid body was curled around hers, conforming easily to her back. Powerful arms were around her waist and one leg was draped across hers. The position was so unfamiliar and new that she just lay there staring at the nearly-dead flames and let the sensations wash over her. It was not a bad way to wake up in truth, pleasant. And it left a strange warmth inside her that she had never felt before. It was...the most disconcerting thing because it did not concern her.
            Then the arm draped over her shifted and his hand moved away from her heart to gently curl around one of her breasts. Although it should have seemed more sexual, the intimacy of the gesture was something else entirely. Kormac's breath was warm and steady against the back of her neck and her head where he had likely pressed his face into her hair in sleep. It all seemed so...perfect. She knew it was a moment that could never last and would be an unattainable dream for the rest of her days.
            She was not meant for the life her parents had led. Her life would end in blood and death just as theirs had, but she would never know the things they had shared with one another. Perhaps such a dream was possible in Kormac's future, but never her own. And it might be that his future would include Eirena. Such knowledge would have crushed lesser people. It nearly crushed her. But that power within her, the will to survive, to never give up and never give in, prevented her from falling into such despair.
            No regret came to her. She already cherished everything he had given her. It was a great gift, even if she knew that she should not have indulged and selfishly accepted it. Releasing a sigh, she pulled herself away from such thoughts and turned her focus toward how to extract herself from the templar's hold so she could rise and clean up. Although there was still a pleasant sensation within, their union had become a sticky, itchy mess on her skin. And if she woke him up without knowing what his reaction to the sex would be, she would rather be ready to put distance between them.
            Her sigh triggered something even as she calculated. Unconsciously, Kormac shifted and his leg slid off hers. A sigh rose from his sleeping form as he also shifted and his arm drew away. Although it drew the blanket with it, the chill was no longer as biting-sharp to her as it had been. Moving slowly to give the covers plenty of time to gradually fall between them, she managed to slide away from the man without waking him further. It left him comfortably resting for a little longer.
            Moving quietly was as much a habit as a lifestyle for her. So by the time that Kormac had begun to stir toward waking, she had used some of the last water in her water skin to clean herself up and was mostly dressed before he finally opened his eyes. Seated near the nearly-dead fire, she was re-tying the laces on her boots after pulling her leggings back on. Turning her head to regard him as he sat up, she followed every sleep-heavy motion intently. The wolf nearby kept its head on its paws to watch as well.
            It took the templar a few moments to gather and orient himself. Finally, he turned his attention back to her as she finished with the last buckle on her boot. Sitting there, she hooked her elbow about the bent knee and grasped her wrist with the other hand to just...wait. In many ways she was hardly disappointed to see the struggle upon his face as he clearly remembered what had happened. She had not cleaned the evidence off him after all so he was likely just as sticky-itchy.
            The silence stretched for a time. Only when she finally looked away to reach for the first plates to re-attach to her boots did it break. He looked to the nearly depleted water skin then the cloth she had left lying atop it in reach. Quietly, he took both and in a sudden display of shyness, began to clean himself beneath the privacy of the covers. Granting him that, she focused on strapping the plates back into place. She had finished with her second boot before he finally cleared his throat.
            "Shandra...I..."
            Looking up, her eyes met his with a steady, pale golden glow about the stormy hazel. Despite his intention to speak, apparently making eye contact robbed him of what he was going to say. Given she had nothing to say to him either, the silence was a little heavy for a time. Finally, she looked back to her armor and started adjusting the knee-guards. It permitted her a moment to collect her thoughts.
            "You broke your vows, Kormac," she murmured. "Do you regret it?"
            He remained silent for a few moments. As she started to believe her thoughts to be true, he spoke in a tone that made her look back to him.
            "Do I regret it?"
            Kormac shifted, pushing the blanket away to reveal he had pulled his leggings back up so that he was again mostly dressed. His chest was still bared though where his leather tunic hung open. She had just glanced back toward him when he was suddenly right there and his arms went around her to pull her into a hug so fierce she found herself wondering about the strength.
            "How could I regret it, Shandra? There was nothing sinful about what we did or how it felt."
            "Pleasures of the flesh--"
            "Are something else."
            Tilting her head up, she fixed him with a wary regard. But there was no lie or deception in his face. It was not in his voice or his touch. And it did wind up throwing her for a loop. At a loss about how to respond let alone what to think, she relaxed and just enjoyed the embrace for several moments. Perhaps at the time with just the two of them, he meant it. But as more time passed he would have different thoughts, she was positive of it.
            "We need to get back..." she finally said.
            "Right...the witch. How long have we been here?"
            Frowning, she thought about it before looking at the fire then the wolf. It rose instantly and padded toward the cave entrance. Outside the wind was a little weaker but it was still bright. There was nothing the wolf saw that would help her mark any time and the creature itself was not one that grasped the concept beyond night, day, dawn, and dusk. It had fed the fire several times and gone to fetch more wood three more times as they slept--which meant to her that they had been in the cave for more than a few hours, possibly half a day or more.
            "I'm not sure. A few hours at least, you had quite a fever."
            He went still and almost tense. Withdrawing, he looked into her eyes even as she reached for another piece of her armor.
            "Why did you waste that time on me? I slowed you down...if you hadn't stopped--"
            "Then you'd have died or worse. Do not worry about it. Worry about getting your gear back on before I'm ready to go."
            There was a sense that something was hovering over them, waiting to be said or brought up. Neither reached for it. The weight remained as she finished getting her armor on and helped him get his on as well. Their patch-job had suffered but Kormac was still able to make use of the increasingly fragile armor for the time. It would keep him protected and warm on the trip to the keep's holdings.
            Leaving the fire to die out in the cave, they finished packing things up and began to make their way swiftly toward the keep's walls, visible in the distance. The wolf ranged ahead and around them, moving at an easy lope to keep an eye out for any straggling demons or beasts that might be of hindrance. Everything was still save for the still-present wind. In fact, it was almost too still, too quiet. But she focused her attention on their goal.

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            "You were restless," Kormac said as they moved through the snow.
            "When?" she asked.
            "Last night--or, earlier, while we slept. I remember waking enough to feel you shifting then settling again."
            Killa remained quiet for several hard paces. The snow was getting a little easier to walk through before he spoke again. "Bad dreams?"
            "Somewhat. They always end the same regardless of how they begin."
            "How?" he asked.
            "The night the village was attacked by demons."
            It made the templar go quiet once more. She knew he was thinking about what little of her past she had shared with him. He would be pressing further once he realized she had not spoken of that much of what transpired before.
            "Do you have any family waiting for you back where you're from?"(1) he ventured.
            "My family was murdered by the beasts we have been killing,"(*) she answered. "I am all that is left of their line."(2)
            "They paid dearly for the pain they've caused."(*)
            "Not dearly enough," was her only reply.
            There was quiet for several more lengths before she spoke after realizing something else about the talk of their pasts.
            "Does your family still reside in Westmarch?"
            "I...am not sure. Some of the memories I have are still confusing. I saw my mother...light in her eyes...from a burning hut. But, I cannot remember if she lives or if..."
            "What of your father?"
            "Dead."
            She considered that and the memories of her time in Westmarch. There had been other boys with him when the guards came. And if he had spoken true, the one that helped her had been his father. It brought a pang of sorrow to her.
            "Did you have many friends at the order?"(3) she inquired.
            "We are brothers. It is a stronger bond than mere friendship."(4)
            At her look, he glanced aside. Once more it was such a boyish gesture it made her smile gently behind the cloth masking the lower half of her face.
            "Ah, so you didn't have any friends then."(5)
            "No...I had one," his voice became far more somber.
            "Were you very close?"
            "I had thought we were..."
            "What happened?"
            There was a hardness in his eyes that she had seen before. Only at that time, she had not understood. And the memory hit her the same time as his words confirmed it.
            "He betrayed the order to join a coven. I killed him."
            "Jondar."
            "Yes."
            Stopping, she waited for him to cross the last two strides. Reaching out, she gripped his shoulder and gave it a light shake. He looked to her and nodded once in thanks for the unspoken support. They moved onward.
            As the walls of the keep drew close enough they could make out the details of the gates, Kormac lifted his head to scan the battlements. Soldiers stood on attentive guard but they were few in number. The banners and flags to have survived the fight moved in the wind. It was an entirely lonely tableau--and she was not certain why it struck her as such. Perhaps it was because there were no soldiers in the field at the foot of the walls to greet them.
            "I hope Eirena is faring well through all of this. Bastion's Keep is full of death and despair."(6)
            "She's not some frail little flower, Kormac. She can handle herself."(7)
            "I still worry about her."
            "Don't. I did not leave her behind because I thought her incapable. There was simply too much at stake and I had no clue how well she and I would get along together without someone else around as well. I don't play well or easily with other...women."
            Kormac looked at her in the strangest of ways before a smile touched his lips which were visible just above his blue scarf. He said nothing. Her glare apparently worked to dissuade him from any comment. But by then they had topped the stairs leading to the main gate. The guards outside it seemed utterly surprised to see them but quickly opened the doors to let them pass without a challenge. If she had not been in a hurry, she would have berated them about the negligence.
            Within the keep, there was no longer an air of despair but one of hope and celebration. Something about the way they were greeted and cheered was striking Killa as utterly odd. And Kormac had the same look about him when he pulled his helm off to look around. Wounded and healthy soldiers were cheering and making gestures of thanks or praise. Widows, refugees, villagers, merchants all applauded and cheered. It was wrong...somehow it was all wrong.
            Lyndon appeared, jogging up to them. And in his own enthusiasm, he caught the hunter in a hug only to spin her around. Kormac stood rooted and Killa herself was shocked.
            "Thank the gods you're safe. When they said you'd be along, I admit I was a bit worried the tin-can there had gotten you lost," the scoundrel said as he stepped back.
            "Why you--"
            Moving to stand between the two more automatically than from conscious thought, she frowned at the thief.
            "Tyrael, Leah, and Adria are back?"
            "Of course! They arrived just a few moments ago," Lyndon said as some of the enthusiasm left him. He was too good a scoundrel to miss the fact something was amiss.
            "Thank the Prophet for your safe return," Eirena said as she approached them with a smile. "I had started...to..."
            Her smile faded as she looked at the hunter and the templar. In a moment, her fair skin paled further before she brought one hand up to make some gestures. Killa felt the brush of magic and Kormac stiffened slightly. But the hunter was fixed on the enchantress.
            "Eirena, what's wrong?" she asked.
            "I...am not certain. You feel..." she trailed off. Another gesture and her frown grew. "When did you meet the Prophet? Did he come with you?"
            "Prophet?" Kormac asked, looking from Eirena to Killa.
            "We met no one, Eirena. Why? What do you see?"
            "It is not seeing, really. You have a presence about you. It feels familiar, the same as the magic the Prophet taught us. But it is fading even now."
            "What magic?"
            "I am not certain. I believe it is a spell for protection, and one to...turn away interest in you from those that intend harm. Any that would attack you should they see you would not see you. It is a powerful illusion spell that I know but cannot do myself. Only the Prophet had enough power and skill to work it. Are you certain you met no one?"
            The templar and hunter shared a quick look that said the same thing to each of them. "Only the demons we killed, and the three that just returned. About how long ago did they arrive?"
            "Perhaps half an hour ago, why?" Eirena asked.
            Kormac paled slightly and Killa's eyes narrowed.
            "We've been in a cave for nearly half a day since Adria's portal dropped us in the middle of the field outside," the hunter said in a flat tone.
            Lyndon was frowning at last. "That's impossible. It's only been a few minutes since they got back. How could you have spent hours in a cave?"
            "The Prophet's magic lingers around you. Whether you saw him or not, I think he might have done something to aid you. But...why? What has happened?"
            "We'll know shortly. Kormac, go see if Haedrig has my weapons ready and extra quivers. Eirena, Lyndon, go get your gear. There is something wrong about this entire thing. If I'm right, there's a trap here and we'll need all the help we can get."
            "I cannot sense any deception here, but I shall do as you say," the enchantress bobbed her head and hurried to their corner. Lyndon followed but a little more slowly and not without looking back over his shoulder several times. "I don't like where this is going," he muttered.
            While the templar went to the smith to see if any patch-work could be done on his armor and retrieve the hunter's requested items, Killa started to look for the three in question. Curiously, Tyrael was not at his usual spot where the troops within the keep could see him. But another man was. Although he wore the same armor as the other guards, there was an air about him that pegged him as the one left in charge.
            He turned as she approached and she could see his grin under his helm.
            "An incredible victory!" he said, and she recognized his voice as one of the men she had saved. Lieutenant Lavail continued, "I knew Azmodan could never stand up to the likes of you!"(8)
            "Where are Adria, Leah, and Tyrael?"(9) she asked.
            "They are all in the armory--no doubt celebrating! You should join them."(10)
            "I think I shall," she said as her eyes narrowed. "Thank you," she uttered as an afterthought as she turned to move past him toward the smithy.
            Haedrig was already chewing Kormac out from the look of it and the templar had been stripped to his leather lining once more. The smith was working on the severed straps of his shoulder armor as the templar got into the new hauberk.
            "I know tha work ya do is rough, but try ta take it a little easier on yer gear. It ain't as easy ta make you new plate as tis the hunter's armor," he was grousing.
            Despite her current mood, Killa again found herself smiling behind the mask. Reaching up, she tugged it down as she approached the two.
            "I'm sorry for the trouble, Haedrig. But you can work on full repairs later. We need to move now. Do you have my bow ready?"
            The smith finished attaching the new straps to the shoulder armor and shoved them into Kormac's hands. "Aye, it be done. Tricky thing that, but I needed the challenge. Around 'ere."
            He led her around to the open door of the wagon and hauled himself into it. A moment later he reappeared with a cloth-wrapped bundle and three quivers in hand. She reached out to take them so he could get down the small steps. Then he took them back to show as he spoke.
            "Made ya two of these for closer situations given the beatin' yer armor's takin' so far. They don't need no special belt for the quivers either."
            The smith held up a pair of two crossbows that would fit easily in either hand. Curiously, they shimmered with a bit of light like her current bow and its glowing red enchantment. They were sleeker than any other one-handed crossbows she had seen before. Even as she took one to test the weight and handling she could tell they were more lethal. The loading mechanism looked sharper and simpler as well.
            "Impressive."
            "I also borrowed an idea from that scoundrel that keeps hangin' around. Check the longbow quiver."
            She fastened the two quivers in place and found that there were places on the armor to support the crossbows themselves without much rearrangement needed. When her hands were free, she took the longbow quiver. Instantly she saw the fine cord coiled the length of the leather case. Looking more closely, she saw it was a finely woven rope of some sort barely an inch thick. Haegrid looked almost smug when she turned her focus to him.
            "That there's a safety line. Scoundrel's been tellin' tales about some bloke that used it to climb in and outta windows thievin'. Dunno why but seemed ya might have a use for that sometime. Now, warnin' ya right now, this longbow ya gave me text on's got a mind of it's own. And it's supposed ta if I made it right."
            He handed her the last piece as she slid the quiver into place. Although she wanted to look, enough time had been wasted. And if they had arrived soon after the witch, they had a small advantage that she did not want to completely waste.
            "I know your work's the best, Haedrig. I'll have to put this bow to the test later. We need to go, templar!"
            Kormac was still tugging his armor back into place but the replacement mail was already serving better than his broken hauberk. Armor in place, shield and sword ready, he followed her as she made her way toward the stairs leading down to the armory. Eirena and Lyndon were already waiting. The enchantress was frowning again as she stared towards the way down.
            "Something is amiss here, but it is powerful. I cannot...understand it or find the source of what darkness lies before us."
            Killa gave her one measuring look and broke into a run down the steps. Kormac was directly on her heels while the other two followed a moment later. The need to hurry was infectious but the hunter still had a firm grasp of caution--returned to her since their descent into the crater. And it proved that her suspicions were yet again true when they reached the armory. There was no sign of Tyrael, Leah or Adria.
            Blood covered the stone floors. Even as they emerged from the doorway on the last set of steps leading down, it trailed under their feet as if bodies had been dragged along the path they took. Killa immediately slid the still-wrapped bow into the leather catches on the quiver and drew the crossbows from their places. They snapped into place as she kept her eyes on the fresh blood, reading the trail every time it splashed or shifted.
            "By all that is holy..." Kormac breathed.
            "I don't see any signs of a fight," Lyndon muttered, his own bow drawn and arrow ready. "Look, the guards stacked their armor almost neatly..."
            Eirena was paler than ever as she followed them, staff glowing in her hands as she murmured spells to dispel any illusions. There were none save for a faint shimmering glow across the doorway that likely kept any sounds of what had happened from alerting the rest of the keep to trouble. Despite the neatness, there were bodies sprawled on the ground near corners but there was that strange lack of signs indicating violence.
            "This was no simple attack. And...not the work of a demon," Killa said as she followed the trails of blood around the corner toward the door leading to stairs heading up to the watchtower.
            She paused to nudge what appeared to be part of a torso with one arm attached. The legs--or what might have been the legs--were scattered. The blood was still warm when she brushed her gloved fingertips across the exposed entrails. It had not even begun to congeal on the body yet, even if it had on the cold stone floor.
            "They look like they were blown apart," Lyndon said as he approached, taking very exaggerated care to step over the trails of blood and bodily bits.
            Killa nodded. "I see no signs of fang or claw. And no cuts or mashed muscle to indicate a weapon."
            "But where did Leah, the seraph, and the witch go? There are no signs of them in Leah's room or this one," Eirena mentioned as she approached from the direction of the quarters the red-head had taken.
            A sound drew her attention to the corner near the stairway and she brought one crossbow up to aim toward it even as Kormac moved to shield her other side. Eirena was the one to move forward--and around the hunter's line of sight rather than into it--to kneel near the body of an armored soldier. He groaned when she touched him and shifted as if trying to drag himself away from the doorway.
            "Easy, do not try to move," the enchantress urged. "What happened here?"
            The soldier groaned, body jerking as a spasm of pain gripped him. Blood flowed from his unbroken armor to further stain the stone beneath him.
            "...witch..." he gasped, one arm moving to point toward the stairs they had been headed for. His arm fell to the stone with a sharp clatter as the last breath escaped him.
            "Quickly!" Killa hissed as she rose and rushed toward the stairs.

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Author's Note:
            I haven't been as prompt updating primarily due to illness, family issues, and the weather that's been hitting here. We've had at least one serious, tornado-producing storm every week the past 2 months. So far, we're extremely lucky that the worst that's hit us has been hail the size of quarters. I'm not very thrilled with this chapter or the one before but I'm posting them regardless while I get the rest of the story out. I may go back to edit them later, we shall see.
            As before, direct quotes are numbered. The (*) indicates quotes that are in the game but were altered slightly to fit with the context of the conversations in this chapter. Note 6-18-14: If you happened to be reading, you'll have noticed that chapters 36-40 were removed. I do apologize, however, when I wrote them, I was distracted and tired and missed multiple key plot points. Going back to re-read made me painfully aware of this so I removed them until I can go back and rewrite those points. Sorry for the mean teaser but it was my honest mistake for posting them and continuing to write when I should have been in bed sleeping instead. Promise they'll be reposted with proper content soon!
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The Hunter and the Templar