If graphic violence or torture sequences disturb you, don't read the end of the chapter. If you want a summary of it without all the screaming, private message me and I'll tell you.

Pain shot through Drew's arm as Marty sunk his teeth into his wrist. Marty twisted around as he rolled to his feet, and a scream tore from Drew; as did a chunk of flesh. He blocked the fist that came flying towards his face; and remembered too late the trick Marty always played. Even as he blocked the punch, Marty grabbed Drew's wrist in an iron grip, claws digging in, and lunged forward; bloody teeth bared. He snapped at Drew's neck, catching his collar bone and fighting to get closer.

Drew let Marty knock him onto his back and brought his legs up between them. As Marty tried once more tear out his throat, Drew slammed his feet into his chest, sending him flying into the wall. The crunch that echoed in the Cave as Marty's head hit the wall was sickening enough to make even Drew wince. But it took more than one count of severe head trauma to knock Marty out.

As the Berzerker blinked heavily and tried to rise, Drew grabbed him by the head and slammed him into the wall again. This time, he went limp.

"Sorry, Mart. You're gonna have a hell of a head ache." He scrambled around in the dark to retrieve the keys and turned to Lynae. Her pulse was faint as well, but she didn't look nearly as emaciated. It probably had something to do with the dried blood smeared around her mouth and plastered to her neck and collar. This is too messy for her.

Did she go savage?

It looks more like- No, he wouldn't have. Like she was- force fed.

Oh no... you don't think-

Who else would've? She's been locked in here for who knows how long, and there's no wat she could've moved with these manacles on. He moved back to Marty's side and examined his wrists. Both bore jagged cuts- surrounded by bite marks.

Crows... She'll never forgive him for this. He went to work on the manacles, catching Lynae before she dropped. Cradling her against his chest, Drew brought his injured wrist to her lips, gently opening her mouth a bit.

"Come on, Lynae... Wake up. Come on..." He shook her a bit, nestling his wrist firmer against her mouth.

She didn't wake up with a faint stirring or slowly opening eyes. The only warning Drew had was a faint twitch of her mouth before she sunk her fangs in his wrist. Hissing a stream of curses, Drew held Lynae down as she fed, wriggling against him and constantly trying to get closer to the source of blood.

Footsteps echoed in the hall, the sound soon followed by Blaze and Matthsen.

"Drew? We heard fighting and-" Blaze stopped dead at the door. "What in all the underworld happened here?" he stepped forward, wincing at the bones that crunched underfoot.

Matthsen peered in from the doorway. "What is this place?"

"The Cave. Prisoners are left here to starve."

Blaze knelt beside Marty, examining the gaping head wound. "Is he-"

"He'll have the another of all headaches when he wakes." Blaze raised an eyebrow. "He's a berserker, he's been through worse." Lynae's squirming had lessened, settling down into a steady sucking, her hand grasping Drew's wrist. He was beginning to feel lightheaded, but he doubted he could get away from Lynae without a fight. The wound was throbbing, pain lancing up his whole arm. The bite on his collar bone stung as well. I wonder if Marty can be venomous when he wants to.

It certainly wouldn't surprise me.

"We need to get them upstairs." Blaze waved the reluctant Matthsen inside, and between the two of them they managed to pick Marty up. "I've get a temporary medic bay set up."

"What about the guards?" Lynae's frantic feeding pace began to slow, and the stiffness melted from her body.

"The stragglers are being picked off as we speak."

"Good. This place needs to be empty by daybreak, or we'll have a whole new troop to deal with." Slowly, slowly, Drew pulled his away. Other than a slight whimper, Lynae had no visible objection. It seemed she was asleep. Time to see if we can still stand.

The answer was no.

As soon as Drew tried to rise, his vision swam and he dropped back onto his knees.

"Just stay here for a bit," Blaze called over his shoulder. "We'll be back as soon as we can."

"Hurry please!" Drew rested his head against Lynae's, drawing in slow deep breaths, fighting away the nausea that arose as he caught a whole new whiff of the rotting corpses, mold, and waste.

We at least need to get out of the Cave. Then we can wait in the hall, where the air is cleaner.

Not by much.

But by enough. Come on, it's just a few feet. A few feet was all Drew could manage. The blood loss combined with the travel and days without proper sleep weighed upon him, tugging at his limbs and fogging his mind.

When Blaze returned, he brought two others to help, fully predicting the state Drew would be in. Drew didn't even wake up as he was disentangled from Lynae and carried up the endless flights of stairs.

The rattle and clatter of a cart and a host of riders brought Drew to his senses. He blinked at the sunlight that accosted his eyes as soon as he opened them, sitting up and looking about, He was indeed, in a cart, along with Marty, Lynae, and a number of other gladiators in varying states of consciousness. All around him were mounted gladiators and others on foot. Most wore the same peculiar expression, one so foreign to faces their faces; a smile.

"Oh good, you're awake." Drew looked to his left to find Blaze riding alongside the cart.

"Where are we?"

"About a day and half from Marksmouth."

"A day and a- have I been asleep the whole time?"

"Unconscious is a better word than asleep. I almost thought you were in a coma."

"But what happened? Why didn't you wake me?"

"You fell asleep, we moved you, we finished up at the arena and left. Nothing to worry about." Nothing to- seriously?

"That's it? That's all you're going to tell me?"

Blaze raised an eyebrow. "Yes.... Do you want all the nitty gritty details?"

"Did everyone get out? Did the town notice? Are the trainees alright? What happened to-"

"Drew!" Blaze brought his hand up, a flash of frustration crossing his face. "Believe it or not, this isn't the first time I has overrun an establishment, led a mass breakout, organized a coup, or played leader for a large party of people. I know what I'm doing!"

Drew sat back with a frown. "I- I guess you're right. Sorry."

"Nah, it's fine. You just woke up."

He rubbed at his face, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness. "Are you sure that you checked every room for prisoners?"

"Yep."

"Even the rooms down-" a flash of darkness encroached upon his vision, high pitched screams floating in from a far off memory. "Down the narrow hall near the storage rooms?"

Blaze dropped his head and shoulders, eyes glazing over gold. "Yes, I checked that room myself."

"A-and?" He would've closed his eyes if he hadn't known what he would see.

"There were-" his voice caught. "There were a few. They were- we got here to late." Drew didn't need to know what the little starving bodies had looked like; he'd seen plenty far too young and never could forget them.

"Sorry I asked. I just wanted to check."

"Sorry that's the answer I had." They held their silence for a while. "Did you know almost all the gladiators would side with you when you freed them?"

"I had hoped, but I wasn't sure."

"You have your own little army now. One far more dangerous that half the countries in the world could claim."

A humorless smile crossed Drew's lips. "At least we're good for something."

Blaze shifted a bit in his saddle. "I was thinking, we really need to try and break these blood oaths as soon as we get into the city."

"That can only be done with divine intervention." Drew and Blaze both spun around at the voice. Marty was sitting up, albeit leaning against the wagon wall, eyes unfocused and voice raw.

Blaze glanced away "So we've been told. But I'm pretty hopeful."

Marty's gaze slid to Drew. "He's not."

"I'll make up for him."

Drew rolled his eyes. "I am sitting right here."

"We know," they chorused. Drew slid closer to Marty, looking him over.

"How's the head?"

"How do you think?"

"You did try and tear my throat out."

Marty shrugged. "Fair enough."

"There's food in the corner." Blaze pointed to a covered crate. "I have to ride ahead to the front. I'll be back." Drew and Marty began tearing into the crate before Blaze even spurred on his horse. They didn't even taste the dried meat or apples as they ate them, not stopping for anything for a long while.

Once Drew was full, he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. Most unfortunately, there were things he needed to ask Marty about.

"What happened after I left? I thought you at least would've managed to escape."

A grim smile crossed Marty's face. "I never planned on escaping."

"What? But the whole purpose-"

He shook his head. "It wasn't time for me to leave, so I planned on being the biggest distraction I could. It worked, for the most part."

"For the most part?"

A softness entered his eyes as he turned them upon Lynae. "Once she realized I wasn't planning on leaving, she wouldn't either." And yet they still won't get together.

"And Hjern?"

"Oh, he managed to get out alright, but he didn't get very far. There are some surprisingly good archers among the guards." More like there were some good archers. He held back a smirk.

"Who did manage to escape?"

"A good number actually. Not many we knew though."

Which means... "What about Garren? I didn't see him last night."

"Drew....." Damn those guards. Damn Siderius! Damn the arena and the king and everyone who had anything to do with it!

"What happened?" His voice wasn't nearly as steady as he'd hoped.

"Somehow Siderius found out about the keys. He cut off Garren's hand and... well, there's not much you can do once a wound is infected."

Drew nodded, swallowing hard. "I'm gonna go find Blaze and- and just check on things." He jumped out of the cart, staggering a bit but not feeling too dizzy. Marty watched him as he ran away, pretending to not know exactly what he was doing.

The closer they got to Praeverk, the more gladiators broke away. They stayed in small groups for the most part, only a few going off alone, but they all spoke to Drew before they left, swearing to be at his side the moment he was ready to destroy the capital. How they had found out about his plans, he had no idea, but Blaze was probably behind it.

By the time they reached the capital gates, only Marty, Hjern, and Lynae remained. Marty and Hjern were looking healthier already, taking great interest in all their surroundings. Lynae was nearly catatonic.

"We need to bring her to a healer." Drew and Marty were a bit apart from everyone else as they wound through the crowded streets.

"How are going to pay for it, let alone find one of good reputation?" Drew dodged an oncoming cart, giving the driver a dirty look that sent him cowering.

"The Priests of Algieara are healers. And they don't require pay, although they give you disapproving looks if you clearly have money and don't give any."

"Then you can take her the temple. I'm not going near that place."

Marty was too consumed with concern to question Drew's odd statement. "No, I can't." His voice broke. "She won't let me near her. Not after what I did."

"You saved her life! I don't understand why she's acting like this."

Marty shook his head. "She thinks she's going insane. You know she takes all the vampire lore seriously."

"Damian can take her then." Drew glanced over his shoulder. Lynae was riding behind Damian, who'd offered to let her ride with him the moment they decided to ditch the cart. "I'm not sure she'll even notice it's not one of us."

The day was late when they reached the castle. The same guard was at the gate as always, and he didn't question them when he saw Marty.

"Anyone hungry?" Drew was already walking towards the dining hall.

"They're going to think we're locusts."

"Oh well."

They didn't see Angus or Frenk during dinner, though Marta did give them a wave as she passed by.

Drew paused his attack on his stew to frown. "I have to report to Duncan." He didn't even try to keep the whine out of his voice. "And then find Sir Tandry, and then I should probably go see a few other people." He turned to Blaze.

"I assume you're going to visit Cimmorene as son as your done eating?"

"No, actually. Marty and I are going to try and find an answer to our little problem." He nodded at Drew's hand and the scar that marred it.

Drew did his best to not show open disgust for their plans, but they picked up on it anyways.

"Have fun then. I'm going to get to work." He stood and made his way towards the door, muttering under his breath.

"Was that a sneer?" Blaze asked, once he was out of ear shot.

"A poorly concealed one." Marty shook his head. "At least he didn't call us blind fools."

"To our faces. He's definitely thinking it." They rose as well. "Where should we go first?"

"Who's your patron?"

Blaze stayed silent until they had made their way to the courtyard. "Technically Lupa is, but they don't exactly have a temple for her."

"Grindune then? Fire, war... seems appropriate."

"True. What about you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "We're dealing with dark magic, aren't we? Where better to go than Lek'S'Kar himself?" Blaze couldn't restrain the shudder that passed over him. Even walking past the Temple of Lek'S'Kar put his wolf on edge. Any werewolf had right to fear the god of magic, especially considering the way he created them.

"Better you than me. When that doesn't work, who are going to next? I don't really want to hunt through all the temples to find you."

A strange smile flitted across Marty's face. "Why are you so sure Lek'S'Kar won't answer?"

"He's not exactly what you would call compassionate. For all we know, our half-wolf friend got aid from him to work the oath."

"No, it wasn't Lek'S'Kar who helped him with the oath." Though Marty's face stayed blank, his scent was filled with a flood of rage so potent that Blaze stepped back, expecting him to go berserk at any moment. Marty took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and when he opened them, the rage faded away. "I'm sure I'll get what we need."

Blaze nodded, giving him a sideways look. "Alright then. Meet me at the Temple of Algieara when you're done. We're going to need some luck as well."

"You should see if he'll hit Drew over the head as well and knock some sense into him."

"Gods, wouldn't that be nice?" Blaze scoffed. "But I don't know if all the Twenty One could manage that."

The Temple of Grindune was quiet. Here and there, a few people passed by; most appearing to be blacksmiths or young fire and metal mages still learning their craft. In peace times, most had no need of Grindune. But with the ways things were heading, her temple would soon be flooded.

The temple was built of brick, plain and sturdy, and the inside was sweltering hot to anyone without an affinity to fire. A large, roaring fire ringed by an low iron fence filled the center of the room. Off to either side were three doors, some opened and some closed. These were the private rooms, and exactly what Blaze needed. A brief conversation with a priest gave him a room for thirty minutes, though more would be allowed if no one was waiting.

The room was small and smokey. A fire burned in a grate and once Blaze shut the door it was the only source of light. The temperature was akin to sitting inside a furnace. And this is why I love being a Hellhound. The smokey air didn't effect him.

He dropped to his knees before the fire and pulled his offering from his pocket; a bundle wrapped in a faded scarf. The once bright red scarf was now almost white, worn thin and fragile. Blaze could still imagine that it smelled like the sea and his father. It was the only thing he had from him.

But sacrifices were called sacrifices for a reason. Blaze threw it in the fire.

He closed his eyes as the scent of burning fabric struck him, soon replaced with that of the incense that had been inside. He had barely closed his eyes when he was struck by it.

A Presence.

Raw terror filled his heart, his wolf fighting to be let out so they could run away, but another part if him held was consumed in unadulterated adoration. Had a priest walked in at that moment, they would've found Blaze crumpled to the floor, trembling and growling. But no one walked in, and Blaze had no idea he had fallen. For in his mind's eye, he could see.

Oh, Faithful One, you have given everything to this cause. The voice seemed to speak at a normal volume, but each word sounded like crashing symbols and howling storms and crumbling mountains and they were Beauty and Pain.

You have twisted your fate with men who will bring great change to the world. And this change will come as death and war and suffering. Is revenge really so sweet that you must doom yourself like this?

"Not- not just- revenge." He was burning. He, a Hellhound, one born of fire, was burning.

You seek to kill your father's killer and you call it not revenge?

"If he- he's d-dead.... He can- can never br-break another- family." He could hardly think to arrange words in proper sentences. There was too much, and the burning wouldn't go away.

He will not die at your hand. And if you stay upon this course, the suffering you will witness will leave it's marks forever.

"It's..... It's...." He couldn't breath. He couldn't breath. "W-wor- worth it."

So even a god cannot turn you from this path. Very well, I will grant you your request, for your faith. But be warned, what you've become caught up in is far greater than man and mortals. You were not built to fight forces such as these.

Bits of the Presence faded away, but Blaze was still held fast. His eyes were opened and he found himself crawling towards the fire. His hand stretched out and grabbed a burning ember.

Every person in the temple heard the screaming that rose from one of the private rooms. Priests went running, trying to open the door but flinching away when they felt it's heat. On and on the screaming went- until it fell into a dreadful silence. Only then did the door cool enough to be opened. Fire raged inside, dancing along the walls to a manic melody. A man was collapsed on the floor, blacked and charred, but breathing. And when the priests dragged him out and looked for injuries, they could find nothing.

Not even a scar.

Marty stood before the Temple of Lek'S'kar for a long while. In all the time he was there, not a single person entered of left the temple. There was no light from within and the stones were just as black. Only once people started to give Marty suspicious looks did he move. A heaviness fell upon his as he traveled up the steps and down the path that a thousand sacrifices, animal, monster, and human, had traveled.

Despite the darkness, Marty could see the statue of the giant silver serpent that coiled up the far wall. It's head arced out over a stone altar, glowing red eye peering at and judging any who dare enter. There were no priests in sight.

Marty walked forward, but froze a few steps in. The temple floor was covered with snakes. There were serpents of all sizes and color, forming a writhing carpet and impassable moat. But there was no hissing or rattling; they were utterly silent. Maybe that's where the priests went.

"Ai dio le seirpa adksia nouctven." His voice echoed off the walls, fading off into a sound that blended with the faint rustle of scales.

The snakes stilled. They lay frozen on the ground, waiting and waiting and waiting. Marty took a step forward. The snakes moved away from his foot, leaving him just enough room to step. The same thing happened when he took another step, and then another. With painstaking slowness, he made his way across the room.

He stopped before the altar, and this time the snakes cleared a wide circle about him.

"Lek'S'Kar," Marty forced power into his words, power that no god would ignore. "God of Magic, I summon thee to an audience."

A deep creaking, groan filled the temple and the giant silver serpent moved. It was stiff at first, as though working out kinks. It's eyes glowed an even bright red, matching Marty's own. It stared off into space. Did I did something wr- He dove to the side.

The tail of the silver serpent crashed down where he had been standing, cracking the stone and sending up a cloud of dust.

"What mortal daresss to sssummon me?" Though the serpent's mouth didn't move, and the sound came from everywhere and nowhere at once, Marty had no doubt who was speaking.

"Bold of you to assume I'm mortal." The serpent tilted its head, peering at him critically. It lunged.

The three inch thick fangs stopped millimeters before they would've skewered Marty.

"And so Mo'Sari proclaimed that one of godly blood could never harm another of the same, unless it was in recompense for a crime so horrible they deserved to die." Marty had read Age of the Gods a hundred times and could quote nearly any passage. But it was the first time he'd had the chance to say this passage to an actual god.

The serpent drew away, hissing with displeasure. "Sssso, which of my ssssiblingsss ssspawned you? That whore, Karkogasssh? He never did have much common ssssenssse."

"Kiliskarr."

"That isss not possssible. Kilissskarr doesss not have children. And when sssshe doesss ssshe killsss them."

"Behold, the exception."

"And what doesss a child of chaossss want from me?"

"I want you to uphold your vow."

"What vow?"

"The one you made to Kiliskarr and all her children. I call for aid now give it." The serpent slithered around Marty, encircling him in silver coils.

"And what aid do you sssseek?"

"I need you to break a blood oath."

Whatever joke Blaze and Marty were trying to play, Drew wasn't amused. A messenger boy had hunted him down with word that Marty wanted him to come to the Temple of Lek'S'Kar. The worst part was Drew had to pay the boy. The streets were dark and crowded, and yet Drew still had a three foot radius of clear space about him. The yellow eyes and growling might've had something to do with it.

The temple seemed abandoned and there was an undeniable aura of magic that permeated the air. He followed the faint light that shown from the temple entrance, footsteps echoing on the bare stone floor.

"Marty? Blaze? Where are you?"

"Over here." Drew found them sitting in an alcove. Marty was reading a book and Blaze was dozing, twitching and grimacing in his sleep. Deep circles bruised the underside of his eyes and something weighed heavily upon his shoulders.

Drew nudged Blaze with his toe, waking him. "What happened to you? I've seen people trampled by Minotaurs who look better than you."

"Grindune happened." His words were slurred as he held up his hand. "Don't grab it, look." What the hell is he-

"The scar, the one from the blood oath, it's-

"-gone. Along with every other scar I've ever had. I still have my tattoo though, thank Lupa. Or really thank Grindune. Whatever. Someone up there get's what I'm saying!" He was yelling at the ceiling, eyes slightly gold and rolling back in his head.

Drew met Marty's gaze and nodded towards Blaze.

Marty shrugged. "Mortals aren't meant to be in the presence of gods. He's still recovering."

"Do you mean to tell me that Blaze actually met a god? That's a little much, even for you Marty." Marty sighed a long, fed up sigh that morphed into a growl by the end.

"For once in your life, Drew, could you please listen to me without rolling your eyes, making snarky comments, or just generally acting like an ignorant child?"

"Gee, tell me how you really feel."

"You don't want me to." Marty stood and made his way to the altar. "Get on here."

Drew narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Because I found a way to break your blood oath."

"And that is how?"

"Let's just say it's not gonna be pretty." Drew slowly sat down on the altar, watching Marty with sharp eyes. He wouldn't make eye contact with Drew.

"Thanks for the clear answer. What do we do fir- hey!" Some unknown force slammed him flat against the altar, smooth cords winding round his arms and legs, keeping him pinned. "What the hell Marty!"

"It's for your own good." He pulled a strip of leather out of his pocket. "Bite down on this."

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Drew twisted against the ropes, snarling and fighting off the Shift.

The berserker's gone truly mad! Wolf howled. Get us out, get us out!

Marty grimaced. "A blood oath is made through pain and can only be broken through pain." He ducked down for a moment, and when he stood once more, he held a small black snake in his hands.

"What the- get that away from me!"

"You're already being held down by snakes, one more shouldn't bother you."

"WHAT?"

"Damn it Drew!" Marty slammed a fist against the altar, the stone cracking upon impact. "Just sit still! Can't you trust me with a single thing?" Drew froze, meeting Marty's red-eyed, desperate gaze. Can I trust him with a single thing?

"Just let me know what you're doing before you do it."

Marty visibly relaxed. "Alright, I can do this. And I wasn't kidding when I said to bite down on this." Drew took the leather between his teeth and waited. "I've got to reopen the oath wound and then- well- the snake is going to go up your arm and eat away the dark magic."

Drew made a noise.

"Yes, when I say up your arm, I do mean inside. Don't give me that look! You're the one who made this deal to begin with!" Marty pulled out a knife. "Ready?" NO! "This is going to hurt like hell." He slit Drew's hand open and brought the snake down.

Drew was breathing too fast. He couldn't see the snake. What was it doing? Had it already entered and he couldn't feel it? When was it going to-

Pain.

It surged through him, arcing his back and forcing out a scream. No, he wouldn't scream, he wouldn't. It just surprised him. He wouldn't-

Another long, drawn out scream was pulled from him. Oh gods oh gods oh gods. The snake was really travelling up his arm.

Never, never in his whole life of training and fighting and being pitted against creatures more powerful and sadistic than himself had Drew ever felt so much pain. He clenched his jaw harder and harder- until he heard a crack. Reflexively, he opened his mouth, the strip of leather falling away.

Mistake.

There was nothing to muffle his screaming now. All he could was close his eyes so he couldn't see the lump wriggling under his skin.

Marty shook Drew harder, trying to wake him. The moment the snake had crawled out of his hand, coated in blood, Marty had released Drew. He'd passed out a while ago, and Marty was grateful for it. He couldn't have stood the screaming much longer. Yes, Lek'S'Kars method was unnaturally cruel, even for him, but Marty couldn't really object once he'd been given the snake.

"Come on, Drew. Wake up, wake up." He still had a pulse, and he was breathing- barely. Damn the gods! "Blaze! I need some help over hear! Blaze!" He glanced over to the alcove. Blaze had Shifted and was curled up in a ball, whimpering and pawing at his ears.

Drew lurched to the side. The movement shocked Marty so badly that he didn't react fast enough to catch him before he hit the floor. Drew vomited, dry heaving after his stomach was empty and sobbing as his broken jaw was agitated. At least he has heightened healing abilities. Any broken bones or torn muscles would be healed in about a day, with nothing but a slight ache remaining.

Collapsing, Drew lay on the floor, drawing in shuddering breaths and trembling all over.

"Drew?" Marty crouched beside him. "Are you alright?" Oops. That was a stupid question. Drew stretched out his hand, a weak chuckle slipping from his mouth.

The mark from the blood oath was gone.

So I actually made myself physically ill writing this last scene. The things I do for the sake of writing... 

Thanks again 1.0x10-5 percent! I love to hear from you guys!