3.77 Nothing To Lose

         One by one, the hungry refugees succumbed to the smell of cooked meat and found themselves outside the door of Adon's Funeral Salon, each one a willing Oath taker once inside. Under Oath, around the dinner table, the Firmary and all it's hidden secrets became the main subject of conversation, the initiated soon realized how valuable each set of eyes and ears had been as they exchanged notes, piecing together the enormous picture the underground operations wove together to create. Nearly everyone had played a role in some secret undercover operation, even though they hadn't always been aware of it. But as the winter months crept closer the Funeral Salon really had to depend on deer meat. And so, in order to keep up with the growing restaurant business, hunting became an organized operation, tasks were divided, which in turn helped to scatter attention away from any one in particular.

         A naturally gifted hunter, Bell crept through the charred forest, beating his way through the blackened debris with precision and ease, pursuing the source of an unusually conspicuous and fresh trail of blood. He had heard rumors of barbecue smoke at night, could it be true that the Nefilim were alive and well, competing for the deer in their midst?

         Barely snapping a twig he followed the trail through the blackened debris into a clearing where to his surprise, a freshly culled doe hung on a series of stakes, hammered into the ground. He scanned the camp, but seconds later, an object struck him from behind, barely impaling his sleeve it fell to the ground.

         Spear poised to strike, Bell spun around only to find himself face to face with Torus. It took a moment to register.

         "Torus?"

         "Hello Bell" Torus picked the arrow up from the ground. "My apologies, I thought you were a wild dog going after my deer... I hope I didn't injure you?"

         For a moment Bell wasn't sure if he was joking or not, or even real. He studied his face, an image of sincerity if ever there was one, he wasn't hallucinating at all.

         "What are you doing here?" He asked, lowering the spear. "Where's Vikkar?"

         "You know Ra-Ku, don't you?" Out of the smog, Ra-Ku suddenly stepped forward. “

         "Ra-Ku" he held out his hand.

         Bell returned the gesture, cautiously.

         "Very good." Torus had always liked Bell, he was glad to see he had survived. "How's Lunie land?"

         "Fine" Bell replied. "I mean, apart from the food thing and stuff. It's as good as it get's I guess."

         "And stuff… I imagine there's lots of nice healthy babies to take care of" Torus mocked, sensing Bell's troubled reaction and makeshift weapon. "Nice spear.... Ancient Weapons Volume Six?"

         Bell felt the heat rising in his face, once a respected Officer of the Atlan Empire he had been reduced to a shameful existence, shaggy haired and dressed in rags, he now lived in Lunie land and wielded weapons stolen from an illustration in an elementary school book.

         "Don't worry" Torus understood his pain, slapping him on the back. "We've come to rescue you, my friend."

         "Rescue us?"

         "Those worthy of rescue" Torus assured with a smile, welcoming to Bell's troubled world. "But don't tell anyone. We thought we would do it Lemurian style. Don't you think that would be fun?"

         "Lemurian style?" Bell echoed, curiosity deepening. There was a whiff of revenge in his tone, he knew Torus had an axe to grind, his offer sounded intriguing nonetheless. With knowing caution he studied their faces, he wasn't going to be fooled again... Was this a legitimate opportunity to swing with the heirs of the New Empire?

         There weren't many options, it was worth the gamble when there was nothing to lose.

         "Tell me" he wanted in, all the way this time. "I'll sign my blood on any Oath you want!"