Impersonal defeat

I arrived in the noble district to see Vatora being attacked by the Order. I charged into the fray and dispatched one of the assailants with her aid. We regrouped with another, and the three of us approached the Armsman. I saw our force was now outnumbered.

I had sped as fast as possible when the call to arms reached my ears. I arrived after our forces had to withdrawl. I saw disorder in the streets and no law being enforced. Below me were the banners and colors of the Deathlords, Midnight Brigade, and the Order of the Blade. there might have been one or two liasons from other companies but nothing more. 

My first thought was, what a unlikely bunch to have together against our forces...but I dismissed that thought as it mattered little. Seems ends must be met despite their means.

This battle makes me weary. I tire of seeing or having to endure the deaths of my order, or the loss of hope that once poured out of my friends and allies.

I circled the mob to the Armsmans entrance to peek inside and see if our forces were regrouping within. Vatora entered to rest for the evening...she looked exhausted. 

I stood atop the stairs leading to the tavern and shouted to the mob below me "You are all under arrest!" It sounded good at the time. I was an enforcer...their numbers would have made mince meat of me...and quickly, but my duty compelled me.

"What are the charges?" Came back a shout from its members.

In a commanding voice replied back "I dislike disorder!" Both sides knew what had happened here prior to my arrival. Members within their ranks still wiped the blood of my friends and allies from their weapons. The bodies had not been collected from the streets. They sat there confident in their numbers and hold on the situation.

"You want my weapon? Come and get it" came a defiant voice from the mercenary known as Guts.

"Very well Guts, your first"

We drew weapons and the fight began...simple as that. We feinted, lunged, circled, and emptied our supply of restoratives. Neither making much leadway. The others just watched in amusement...waiting their turn I suppose with the over ambitious Knight. Even were I to win, I would not be able to defeat them all...specially not before they massed their numbers on me.

Exhausted we paused our combat after several minutes. "Good fight" came from the man. I replied to Guts "I cannot bring you into justice...I am unable to subdue you. Your skill is too great." 

"Fuck that" came the reply as I felt a sharp pain slam into my body...with less than a moments time to react, the merc was upon me full force. I know not what fueled his current anger...perhaps he thought I would just forget duty after beating my helm in a while.

This fight continued the same as it had the first time it began, I became complacent...a blow landed to my ribs, then one to the back of my head as I bent from the first. It went dark.

As I slipped from conciousness the words of Guts were the last I heard..."Fuck off, sir"

My eyes opened, my pride closed. I knew things would have ended this way...I would be trying to fool myself to think the outcome could have been otherwise.

One thing still haunted me, why were they all here together. I guess I have nothing to loose in asking.

I approached the band, now lounging on the low walls to the tavern. "Why do you fight with the Deathlords and the Order?"

"We fight because we got paid to do it" came the responce from several members in various words.

Our conversation continued a few more minutes with a couple questions like whom would have hired them etc. But I knew they would not be answered...their clients were to remain secret.

I moved off some distance and watched the remaining members of the Mob hang out from behind a large plant near the potion merchant. The Midnight Brigade huddled together and celebrated their part of the victory. The remaining Deathlords mingled about. The Orders members had quickly left the scene I had thought after not seeing one for many minutes until I spotted a familiar figure approaching...Allen.

As if he had known I was there qusi hiding as best as one can do it in the shiney full plate armor, he moved up the stairs to my position, pulling out a crossbow loaded a bolt and fired it at my chest from point blank range. It deflected off the breastplate.

"So...just like that I suppose" I forced out in words, which were meant for just thoughts.

I drew my weapon and shield, he stowed his ranged weapon and we began our combat. Although Allen was more agile than I in his armor...it is my suspicion he has seen more combat than I. Nevertheless, our combat ensued for many minutes...a flat stalemate...and a indifferent attitude towards the conflict. Indifferent was the theme indeed.

"Pointless" said Allen as he mounted his steed all of a sudden.

"Indeed" I replied. "In more ways than we can imagine" I whispered under my breath as he began to ride away, but loud enough for him to have heard it still I believe.

I need to have my faith restored, I thought. Perhaps I should finish my training. These empty battles weigh heavy on me right now.