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<blockquote data-quote="tglassy" data-source="post: 7876473" data-attributes="member: 6855204"><p>Thunder raged outside the small hideout. Wind blew and tore at the building, the creaks and moans of the old wood seeming as if it would rip off its hinges. The folk inside shivered against the cold, the fire not quite warming the room, despite its size. It was little more than a poor house, a place for the poor and the destitute to find some shelter. </p><p></p><p>Unfortunately, other kinds of folks looked to these places for shelter as well.</p><p></p><p>Kaylee sat, huddled in the corner, her arms wrapped around herself. Being ten years old, and an orphan at that, she wasn't able to push her way closer to the fire. Bart the Fart was there, along with his crew. They'd come in just around night fall, looking for peace from the storms that had plagued the land of late. </p><p></p><p>Bart didn't like his nickname, given to him because of the smell he seemed to always give off. He was a horrid man. Kaylee didn't like him at all. She never saw him often, but every time she did she scampered away in the other direction. He was known for his liking girls her age, few of which recovered after he'd found them. And since she didn't have a daddy and her momma died of the sickness a few years ago, she'd been lucky not to be caught by him or any of his crew. </p><p></p><p>But that was before the storms came a few weeks ago. Before then, when Bart came into a hovel like this one, she'd have snuck out of it quick as a mouse, and as quiet to boot. But the wind and lightning outside were scarier than Bart's grabby hands and festering lip. </p><p></p><p>She wasn't the only one in the hovel. There were a good dozen people, beside's Bart's crew. Bart and company had burst in an hour ago, just after sundown, and made everyone sitting near the fire move. One of them had grabbed Kaylee by the shirt and thrown her to the side, off the stone she'd been using as a chair. </p><p></p><p>So she sat in the corner, curled, hoping against hope that Bart wouldn't look her way. </p><p></p><p>Hope apparently didn't like her, today. While she was peaking around, her eyes happened to catch Bart's. He wasn't a pretty man. His nose was broken, and he had a perpetual sore on his lip that never seemed to completely heal. He looked at her, his eyes lingering on her bare leg. She only had one pair of pants, and one of the legs had finally ripped away, when the baker had tripped while chasing her and managed to grab the leg. She'd pulled, letting it rip, deciding the loaf of bread she'd stolen was worth the meager warmth the leg of the pants had provided.</p><p></p><p>Now, as he looked at her, she wished she'd let the baker catch her. The Baker, at least, only smacked kids that stole from him a little bit, and he never kicked more than once. He usually barely even left a bruise. But seeing the way Bart was staring, her gut started to turn. Maybe she could deal with the storm outside...</p><p></p><p>Bart got up from his seat, and Kaylee started looking around the room. She knew everyone in there, but she didn't count any of them as friends. She only knew them the way all the poor of the city knew each other. She also knew none of them would bother helping her. They just didn't care. What was a little girl to them? </p><p></p><p>She kept her face stoic as Bart strode over to her, a confident look on his face. </p><p></p><p>"'Ello, precious," he said, bending down. She could smell him strongly, now, a putrid smell that churled her stomach. She tried to curl up tighter, tried looking away. "Now, don't be like that. You seem right cold. I gots ways to keep you warm, I do. Nice ways. You won't even know its cold outside, no you won't."</p><p></p><p>He turned back to his men. "Kap. Clear out the back room."</p><p></p><p>His lackey got up and moved to the single room in the back of the hovel. It was usually used for storage, but sometimes people slept there when they didn't want to be bothered. </p><p></p><p>Bart turned back to Kaylee, reaching out his hand. "Why don't you come with me..." he started to say.</p><p></p><p>Kaylee's whole body tensed. Her hand, hidden from view, closed around a small wooden stick with a rusty nail sticking out of one end. She'd found it at a site where they were building a new house. She gripped it, and as Bart grabbed her arm, she struck. She slammed the rusty nail down on his hand, and he jumped back, screaming in pain. His reaction ripped the stick out of her hand, the nail still embedded in his. He tried to move away from her, but was crouched down, and he wound up falling on to his back. </p><p></p><p>Kaylee shot up and ran to the door. The Storm would be better than here. </p><p></p><p>Bart's men were busy laughing, but one of them managed to rise and catch her before she could get to the door. He grabbed her by the arm and flung her into the wall on the other side of the room. She was small, and didn't weigh much. When she hit, she nearly blacked out. </p><p></p><p>Bart was cursing as he stood up, pulling the nail out of his hand. His face was red, and spittle was dribbling down his lip. </p><p></p><p>"Having some trouble, Barty?" one of the men laughed. </p><p></p><p>Bart threw the stick at him, but he dodged it, and that just caused the men to laugh more. Everyone else in the hovel purposefully turned away and minded their own business. </p><p></p><p>Bart's glare turned to her. "You're going to regret that before the night is over, little wench!"</p><p></p><p>He moved to grab her. </p><p></p><p>The door of the hovel slammed open, the icy wind flowing over the room, nearly putting out the fire in the hearth. Then the fire erupted, causing all the men near it to jump back, some falling backwards on the ground. </p><p></p><p>The man in the doorway walked slowly into the room, the spurs on his boots jingling as he stepped. He wore a long, dark coat that reached past his knees, with a wide brimed hat on his head. The hair under his hat seemed to glow, the light shifting like burning embers. His eyes were the same, glowing with a barely hidden intensity. The smell of brimstone seemed to follow him. </p><p></p><p>Everyone in the room seemed to freeze as the man entered. The average mood of the people inside went from indifferent, to terrified. They all recognized what he was.</p><p></p><p>A Gatekeeper had come. </p><p></p><p>"Bartleby Pile," the man said, his voice like the roar of crackling flame. </p><p></p><p>"A-ain't nobody here by that name," Bart said, stepping away from the man, fear obvious in his eyes. </p><p></p><p>The Gatekeeper looked around the room. One of Bart's men pointed at Bart, "He's Bart! Take him! I ain't done nothin!"</p><p></p><p>"Shut up, you idiot!" Bart called. He stood up straighter, facing the Gatekeeper. "I ain't gotta answer to you, demon spawn."</p><p></p><p>"I'm not a demon," the Gatekeeper said, sighing with exasperation, as if explaining something for the hundreth time. "And I require no answers. But all men answer to Infiri. I'm just here to arrange the meeting."</p><p></p><p>At the mention of the God of Judgement, Bart stiffened. The Gatekeeper stepped into the room, apparently not seeing one of Bart's men behind the door. Kaylee cried out as the man stepped out, holding a revolver to the back of the Gatekeeper's head. Gatekeepers were not immortal. They could be killed. </p><p></p><p>At Kaylee's cry, the Gatekeeper dodged to the side just as the gun went off. He spun, grabbing the man's arm and knocking the gun away. The gun flew, landing near Kaylee. The Gatekeeper spun the man, throwing him into a few of Bart's other lackeys before they could get up to help. Kaylee inched towards the revolver, grabbing it in her tiny hands.</p><p></p><p>Bart came in, knife drawn. Bart had always been a horrible shot, so bad that he had been made fun of by everyone in town. He'd stopped carrying a gun because of it. </p><p></p><p>But he was deadly with his knives. </p><p></p><p>The Gatekeeper managed to grab Bart's wrist, hitting him in the face with his elbow, breaking Bart's nose once more. He kicked Bart, sending him to the ground. Bart came down next to the fire, and grabbed a thick, burning stick by the cool part sticking out. He turned swung he flaming stick at the Gatekeeper. </p><p></p><p>It hit the Gatekeeper in the face, gouging a deep, burning gash. </p><p></p><p>The Gatekeeper slowly turned to face Bart, the wound on his face red and angry, blood leaking from it. Then, to everyone's surprise, it began to heal. Within moments the wound was completely gone, the Gatekeeper standing there as if nothing had happened. </p><p></p><p>Bart swung again, obviously shaken, but the Gatekeeper just grabbed the stick by the burning part, stopping the swing. He stood there, holding stick as the flames wreathed around his hand as if they weren't there, looking in to Bart's eyes.</p><p></p><p>Bart dropped the stick and fell to his knees. There was no fighting a man like this.</p><p></p><p>"Please," he said, tears streaming down his face. "Please, I don't wanna die."</p><p></p><p>"How many young girls have asked the same of you, Bart?" the Gatekeeper said, the fire cracking in his voice. He held out his hand, and fire swirled around it, coalescing into a solid, metallic form. A revolver, black and etched with glowing, red runes. He aimed it at Bart's head. "Welcome to the Gates of Infiri."</p><p></p><p>He pulled the trigger. </p><p></p><p>The sound was deafening in the small room. Bart's body fell to the ground, a neat hole in his head. The Gatekeeper blew the smoke from the barrel of the gun, and the gun itself seemed to melt into smoke. He turned and made his way for the door. </p><p></p><p></p><p><strong><strong><strong><strong>_</strong></strong></strong></strong></p><p></p><p></p><p>Josiah's work was done. Another evil man sent to meet his Master for final judgement. Bart had been a rapist and murderer. Infiri gave Josiah great leeway on who he targeted. He was very hands off, trusting in his Gatekeepers to do their job, and do it with honor. Josiah was very careful about who he decided to send to Infiri's Gates. But he had no doubt that of all the men Josiah had sent, few had deserved it as much as Bartleby Pile. </p><p></p><p>Still, Josiah felt no glee at this death. He never did. As he turned, he could feel a small portion of the man's soul settle over him, granting him a little of its vitality, replacing the last bit he'd had, which he'd used to heal the wound on his face. This piece of the evil man's soul, which he took every time he killed, would give him some protection against injury, and allow him to heal. Not much, but it was usually enough. A gift from Infiri. One of many. </p><p></p><p>As he reached the door, another gunshot rang out, shocking everyone in the room, including the Gatekeeper. </p><p></p><p>Josiah spun, seeing another of Bart's men holding a gun. Bart's man stood for a moment, then fell to the ground, a bullet hole in his back. </p><p></p><p>A young girl stood behind him. She held a gun in her hand, the one Josiah had knocked to the ground earlier, smoke curling from the barrel. </p><p></p><p><em>She's so young...</em>he thought. Younger than he'd been when he'd killed his first man. Though, not by much. Kanadra was not a safe place.</p><p></p><p>Josiah looked her over, seeing the firm look in her eye. The quiet strength. Of all the people in the room, she was the only one who didn't look on him with fear. </p><p></p><p>She lowered the gun as he walked over to her. Josiah examined the dead man at her feet. A clean shot, right in his heart. </p><p></p><p>He tipped his hat to her in thanks.</p><p></p><p>"What's yer name?" he asked her.</p><p></p><p>"Kaylee," she said. "I'm ten and I'm not afraid of you."</p><p></p><p>Josiah grinned. Ah, the boldness of youth. "I believe you," he said. And he did. "You'll never have to be afraid of me, Kaylee."</p><p></p><p>He held his hand out, offering her a small, metal badge. The symbol of the Gatekeepers. "When you're old enough, come find me," he said.</p><p></p><p>She took the badge. Then he turned from her, his cloak swirling behind him, and made his way back into the storm. This night's work wasn't done.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="tglassy, post: 7876473, member: 6855204"] Thunder raged outside the small hideout. Wind blew and tore at the building, the creaks and moans of the old wood seeming as if it would rip off its hinges. The folk inside shivered against the cold, the fire not quite warming the room, despite its size. It was little more than a poor house, a place for the poor and the destitute to find some shelter. Unfortunately, other kinds of folks looked to these places for shelter as well. Kaylee sat, huddled in the corner, her arms wrapped around herself. Being ten years old, and an orphan at that, she wasn't able to push her way closer to the fire. Bart the Fart was there, along with his crew. They'd come in just around night fall, looking for peace from the storms that had plagued the land of late. Bart didn't like his nickname, given to him because of the smell he seemed to always give off. He was a horrid man. Kaylee didn't like him at all. She never saw him often, but every time she did she scampered away in the other direction. He was known for his liking girls her age, few of which recovered after he'd found them. And since she didn't have a daddy and her momma died of the sickness a few years ago, she'd been lucky not to be caught by him or any of his crew. But that was before the storms came a few weeks ago. Before then, when Bart came into a hovel like this one, she'd have snuck out of it quick as a mouse, and as quiet to boot. But the wind and lightning outside were scarier than Bart's grabby hands and festering lip. She wasn't the only one in the hovel. There were a good dozen people, beside's Bart's crew. Bart and company had burst in an hour ago, just after sundown, and made everyone sitting near the fire move. One of them had grabbed Kaylee by the shirt and thrown her to the side, off the stone she'd been using as a chair. So she sat in the corner, curled, hoping against hope that Bart wouldn't look her way. Hope apparently didn't like her, today. While she was peaking around, her eyes happened to catch Bart's. He wasn't a pretty man. His nose was broken, and he had a perpetual sore on his lip that never seemed to completely heal. He looked at her, his eyes lingering on her bare leg. She only had one pair of pants, and one of the legs had finally ripped away, when the baker had tripped while chasing her and managed to grab the leg. She'd pulled, letting it rip, deciding the loaf of bread she'd stolen was worth the meager warmth the leg of the pants had provided. Now, as he looked at her, she wished she'd let the baker catch her. The Baker, at least, only smacked kids that stole from him a little bit, and he never kicked more than once. He usually barely even left a bruise. But seeing the way Bart was staring, her gut started to turn. Maybe she could deal with the storm outside... Bart got up from his seat, and Kaylee started looking around the room. She knew everyone in there, but she didn't count any of them as friends. She only knew them the way all the poor of the city knew each other. She also knew none of them would bother helping her. They just didn't care. What was a little girl to them? She kept her face stoic as Bart strode over to her, a confident look on his face. "'Ello, precious," he said, bending down. She could smell him strongly, now, a putrid smell that churled her stomach. She tried to curl up tighter, tried looking away. "Now, don't be like that. You seem right cold. I gots ways to keep you warm, I do. Nice ways. You won't even know its cold outside, no you won't." He turned back to his men. "Kap. Clear out the back room." His lackey got up and moved to the single room in the back of the hovel. It was usually used for storage, but sometimes people slept there when they didn't want to be bothered. Bart turned back to Kaylee, reaching out his hand. "Why don't you come with me..." he started to say. Kaylee's whole body tensed. Her hand, hidden from view, closed around a small wooden stick with a rusty nail sticking out of one end. She'd found it at a site where they were building a new house. She gripped it, and as Bart grabbed her arm, she struck. She slammed the rusty nail down on his hand, and he jumped back, screaming in pain. His reaction ripped the stick out of her hand, the nail still embedded in his. He tried to move away from her, but was crouched down, and he wound up falling on to his back. Kaylee shot up and ran to the door. The Storm would be better than here. Bart's men were busy laughing, but one of them managed to rise and catch her before she could get to the door. He grabbed her by the arm and flung her into the wall on the other side of the room. She was small, and didn't weigh much. When she hit, she nearly blacked out. Bart was cursing as he stood up, pulling the nail out of his hand. His face was red, and spittle was dribbling down his lip. "Having some trouble, Barty?" one of the men laughed. Bart threw the stick at him, but he dodged it, and that just caused the men to laugh more. Everyone else in the hovel purposefully turned away and minded their own business. Bart's glare turned to her. "You're going to regret that before the night is over, little wench!" He moved to grab her. The door of the hovel slammed open, the icy wind flowing over the room, nearly putting out the fire in the hearth. Then the fire erupted, causing all the men near it to jump back, some falling backwards on the ground. The man in the doorway walked slowly into the room, the spurs on his boots jingling as he stepped. He wore a long, dark coat that reached past his knees, with a wide brimed hat on his head. The hair under his hat seemed to glow, the light shifting like burning embers. His eyes were the same, glowing with a barely hidden intensity. The smell of brimstone seemed to follow him. Everyone in the room seemed to freeze as the man entered. The average mood of the people inside went from indifferent, to terrified. They all recognized what he was. A Gatekeeper had come. "Bartleby Pile," the man said, his voice like the roar of crackling flame. "A-ain't nobody here by that name," Bart said, stepping away from the man, fear obvious in his eyes. The Gatekeeper looked around the room. One of Bart's men pointed at Bart, "He's Bart! Take him! I ain't done nothin!" "Shut up, you idiot!" Bart called. He stood up straighter, facing the Gatekeeper. "I ain't gotta answer to you, demon spawn." "I'm not a demon," the Gatekeeper said, sighing with exasperation, as if explaining something for the hundreth time. "And I require no answers. But all men answer to Infiri. I'm just here to arrange the meeting." At the mention of the God of Judgement, Bart stiffened. The Gatekeeper stepped into the room, apparently not seeing one of Bart's men behind the door. Kaylee cried out as the man stepped out, holding a revolver to the back of the Gatekeeper's head. Gatekeepers were not immortal. They could be killed. At Kaylee's cry, the Gatekeeper dodged to the side just as the gun went off. He spun, grabbing the man's arm and knocking the gun away. The gun flew, landing near Kaylee. The Gatekeeper spun the man, throwing him into a few of Bart's other lackeys before they could get up to help. Kaylee inched towards the revolver, grabbing it in her tiny hands. Bart came in, knife drawn. Bart had always been a horrible shot, so bad that he had been made fun of by everyone in town. He'd stopped carrying a gun because of it. But he was deadly with his knives. The Gatekeeper managed to grab Bart's wrist, hitting him in the face with his elbow, breaking Bart's nose once more. He kicked Bart, sending him to the ground. Bart came down next to the fire, and grabbed a thick, burning stick by the cool part sticking out. He turned swung he flaming stick at the Gatekeeper. It hit the Gatekeeper in the face, gouging a deep, burning gash. The Gatekeeper slowly turned to face Bart, the wound on his face red and angry, blood leaking from it. Then, to everyone's surprise, it began to heal. Within moments the wound was completely gone, the Gatekeeper standing there as if nothing had happened. Bart swung again, obviously shaken, but the Gatekeeper just grabbed the stick by the burning part, stopping the swing. He stood there, holding stick as the flames wreathed around his hand as if they weren't there, looking in to Bart's eyes. Bart dropped the stick and fell to his knees. There was no fighting a man like this. "Please," he said, tears streaming down his face. "Please, I don't wanna die." "How many young girls have asked the same of you, Bart?" the Gatekeeper said, the fire cracking in his voice. He held out his hand, and fire swirled around it, coalescing into a solid, metallic form. A revolver, black and etched with glowing, red runes. He aimed it at Bart's head. "Welcome to the Gates of Infiri." He pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening in the small room. Bart's body fell to the ground, a neat hole in his head. The Gatekeeper blew the smoke from the barrel of the gun, and the gun itself seemed to melt into smoke. He turned and made his way for the door. [B][B][B][B]_[/B][/B][/B][/B] Josiah's work was done. Another evil man sent to meet his Master for final judgement. Bart had been a rapist and murderer. Infiri gave Josiah great leeway on who he targeted. He was very hands off, trusting in his Gatekeepers to do their job, and do it with honor. Josiah was very careful about who he decided to send to Infiri's Gates. But he had no doubt that of all the men Josiah had sent, few had deserved it as much as Bartleby Pile. Still, Josiah felt no glee at this death. He never did. As he turned, he could feel a small portion of the man's soul settle over him, granting him a little of its vitality, replacing the last bit he'd had, which he'd used to heal the wound on his face. This piece of the evil man's soul, which he took every time he killed, would give him some protection against injury, and allow him to heal. Not much, but it was usually enough. A gift from Infiri. One of many. As he reached the door, another gunshot rang out, shocking everyone in the room, including the Gatekeeper. Josiah spun, seeing another of Bart's men holding a gun. Bart's man stood for a moment, then fell to the ground, a bullet hole in his back. A young girl stood behind him. She held a gun in her hand, the one Josiah had knocked to the ground earlier, smoke curling from the barrel. [I]She's so young...[/I]he thought. Younger than he'd been when he'd killed his first man. Though, not by much. Kanadra was not a safe place. Josiah looked her over, seeing the firm look in her eye. The quiet strength. Of all the people in the room, she was the only one who didn't look on him with fear. She lowered the gun as he walked over to her. Josiah examined the dead man at her feet. A clean shot, right in his heart. He tipped his hat to her in thanks. "What's yer name?" he asked her. "Kaylee," she said. "I'm ten and I'm not afraid of you." Josiah grinned. Ah, the boldness of youth. "I believe you," he said. And he did. "You'll never have to be afraid of me, Kaylee." He held his hand out, offering her a small, metal badge. The symbol of the Gatekeepers. "When you're old enough, come find me," he said. She took the badge. Then he turned from her, his cloak swirling behind him, and made his way back into the storm. This night's work wasn't done. [/QUOTE]
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