Olimpia

Kathren put her head down after the disturbing pulse and kept walking. That had nothing to do with me. She thought, totally convincing herself the moment the thought crossed her mind. Yep, complete coincidence.

Her stride might have a little more purpose than would be expected in the slums, but the time of night and tension in the air could easily explain that away.

Some buildings on the street had their interiors lit by the flickering orange glow of a lantern, including the one she was passing. Beams of light bled through the gaps in the wooden shutters and tarps covering the windows and door, playing over her body. A moment after the light source was lit, a voice snapped out, and there was a rush of movement.

The sounds of a small tussle and harsh voices sounded from the house next to her, and the light vanished. All the other homes sparking with light also had their light disappear one after another in what must have been similar events.

Everyone knew something was happening, and these survivors wanted no part of it.

Soft thumps were the only thing marking Kathren's passage on the empty street. The alleys were vacant and unmoving. So there should be nothing and no one to take notice of her fligh— casually walking down the road.

But every hair on Kathren's body was standing on end.

In the slums, the moment a street looks empty is the moment something is about to go down. Kathren was used to being one of the rats scurrying away, not someone important enough to get jumped.

Her head was all but spinning in place as she tried to look in every direction at once. When a shadow stepped out of the alley she was about to cross, she jumped back and started pulling out her dagger to throw it at the form.

The sudden movement jostled the bag from where it hung on her shoulder, and she felt it slide down her arm. A spike of panic that someone was trying to steal it drove through her, and halfway through her throw, Kathren stopped, ignoring the twinge spiking along her arm in protest as she turned to grab onto the bag with both hands.

The vagrant cowered against the wall, his hands snapping up above his head on instance to block a beating. In the stillness, the stench wafting off the figure wrinkled her nose, and she noticed all the holes and layers in his clothing.

It should have been obvious at first sight, but the tension in the air had gotten to her, and she acted on reflex.

"Ple'se, ma'rm, we me'nt-cha no herm." Said the cowering man.

Staring at the man for a second, Kathren's eyes flicked to the side as movement caught her attention. A woman wearing similar worn clothing as the man was a few feet down the alley. Indecision covered her face, and she looked like she was caught between fleeing down the alley and charging at Kathren.

With a flick of her wrist, the tip of her blade motioned the man to the side. The man was quick to react and bolted into the alley, wrapping the woman in his arms and ushering her away as Kathren carefully passed while adjusting her sack. She did not intend to die because she left her back open due to her assuming someone was harmless.

You only needed to see it happen once to learn that lesson.

She had traveled a third of a mile from where she encountered the Butcher, and there was a noticeable difference between the areas. The houses and streets were the same filth-covered structures as before, but in between the houses were the glittering eyes of watchers.

Young and old watched from the darker shadows, poised to bolt or attack at the first sign of danger or opportunity.

Typically, the streets would be quiet as the world anticipated the dawn of a new day. Everyone huddled in their beds, trying to get the last dregs of sleep before they were forced to go about their lives. Even the drunks would be wrapped around their bottles, passed out after their harrowing day of poisoning themselves.

Now, only the drunks were still asleep, as they were too intoxicated to even notice the tension in the air more than a small stirring in their sleep.

The slums of South Town were large. As the Triad transformed from a key stronghold of the Republic into a pitstop for merchants, retaining walls sprung up around the Southern Fort to contain the flood of warehouses built and the workers' homes to supply them. Little regard was given to the defenses as they were unchallenged for hundreds of years as space was needed.

When the demand for the ore coming out of Basetown dropped as other mines opened, most of the warehouses in the Triad were emptied and never refilled. The jobless workers started trickling out of the town, abandoning their homes as they searched for opportunities.

By now, the entire third ring and half of the second were considered part of the slums. Tunnels going from the third ring into the second was an open secret, and rumors of other tunnels out of the town were everywhere.

The reality was that while the 15th Legion was technically in command of all of South Town along with the rest of the Triad, the outer two rings only had a legion presence along the main road and on the walls, with the occasional patrol going into the rest of the ring. And even that was diminishing with recent events.

You would think that with an army and new city placed on the northern side of the Rush, the walls around South Town would be heavily reinforced, but you would be wrong. The legion left the third ring all but abandoned and was working to reinforce the second.

It didn't help that the dark elves were killing any legionaries leaving the main road, which decreased the patrols. With everyone feeling that they were in danger, a reasonable feeling given the situation, seeing the 15th all but abandon the area did not go over well in the third ring, which made it even harder for the legion to enter.

The cycle was vicious over the last weeks as it repeated. And what it meant — really the most important fact if everyone was honest with themselves — was that Kathren now had to walk miles to make it to safety.

"How can I consider myself in enemy territory when I'm inside our walls?" Kathren muttered to herself in annoyance, the thud of footsteps echoing up and down the street.

Her hands never left the hilt of her knife and her bag.

Kathren couldn't stop herself from looking over her shoulder as she came to an intersection, feeling a gaze stabbing into her back. Her searching the empty roads behind her didn't stop her from turning onto a new street, but the sudden voice stopped her cold.

"What we got here?" Thrummed a deep, cold voice.

"Looks like someone run'nun, boss," Sneered a nasal voice in response.

"That it does. That it does." drawled out the voice. "An' here we got a warning to look for anyone suspicious. Does she look suspicious?"

"Looks th't way to me, boss."

"Hmmm, that she does."

Slowly, Kathren turned. Down the street were five men standing in a pool of light made by two lampposts fifteen feet away. While the road she had come down had them, she doubted anyone knew the last time they were lit.

She could instantly tell why this pair of lampposts were burning as they lit up the group and everything else on the road. There were no turned-over carts or boxes blocking the street, but Kathren knew a checkpoint when she saw one.

The hairs on her neck prickled as a thought occurred to her. There have to be more men close by.

At a quick glance, the alleyways all seemed to either go back into the section of the slums she was escaping or towards the outer wall. And it was best to assume the local gangs knew their own territory enough to set up a trap.

Kathren knew a path existed to skirt this chokepoint — there was always another path — but Kathren didn't know the area well enough to find it before they ran her down.

There were five men. Three of them were around six feet tall with broad shoulders, while the one on the left of the road was at least a head taller than the rest and built like a bull, which was strange because Kathren saw the distinct points on his ears, suggesting strong elf blood. A complete opposite to that, the man on the far right was scrawny with a wiry build, half a head shorter than the rest.

"Somethin' feel'en wrong ba'k there," Kathren said, trying to ease their suspensions. "Like danger coming." As she spoke, she shuffled towards them and to the right, throwing a couple of cautious looks over her shoulder in the hope that they would think she was afraid of something.

All she had to do was get close enough before making a break for it, and she would be as good as free.

"Right, you are." Rumbled the weirdly large elf, then took a long beak from talking as if what he had said tired him out. Not that Kathren cared. It was giving her more time to creep forward. "Then again, every street… rat… knows better than to wander… in times like these."

Everyone on the street paused as he completed his halting sentence, his words sinking in. The eyes of the other four men flicked to sweep over her body, joining the steady weight of the large man's scrutiny.

Kathren broke the moment by rushing forward toward the wiry man on the right side, her hand slipping inside her clothes. She covered the seven feet between them with two large steps, making it into arm's reach.

Slashing out at the man's chest as she drew out her dagger, Kathren tried to make the man step back so she could rush past and make a run for it.

The man's hands moved in a blur of motion as all he did was crouch slightly, and Kathren felt something deflect her blade. Then she saw his left hand driving for her chest, the glint of steel flashing in the lamplight.

Hopping back, Kathren inspected the wiry man she was facing, every warning bell she had going off. His right hand held a curved blade meant for slashing in a reverse grip, and his left had a narrow blade meant for stabbing. His stance was low, as his body slightly swayed in counterpoint to the tips of his knives. His mouth was stretched in something close to a grin as a crazed light sparked to life in his eyes.

She caught the movement of figures rushing around her side to trap her against the house and another circling around the knife wielder, ensuring she couldn't rush past him, an idiotic thought that had already left her head after their brief exchange.

Flicking her wrist, Kathren threw her dagger at her immediate opponent to distract him, then turned on her heel and darted down the street to the clang of steel. The whole time she moved, Kathren was mentally cursing herself for not creating a makeshift harness to help her move faster.

A tendril flicked out of her hand, and she swiped it to the side, flinging part of the trash always lining the side of the street at the men trying to encircle her.

The men didn't stop, but they did raise their hands, covering their faces, allowing Kathren to dart past them.

Or so she thought until her heart jumped into her throat as she saw movement and felt a tugging on her clothes that increased to a yank.

When she heard the sound of tearing fabric and started to move again, she gave a silent prayer to the Elementals for the sweetest sound she had heard in her life.

She heard the pounding of their steps as they quickly chased after her, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. None of them were shouting or calling out to her.

After two blocks, Kathren's suspicions were proved right. More figures were stepping out of the shadows and moving to cover the street.

Darting into an alley she was about to pass, Kathren hopped over a pile of trash before running down the alley's length.

As she reached the next street, all she saw was a motion on her left before Kathren turned to the right and pumped her feet as fast as she could. A few more blocks passed before she was forced to dart into another alley. This time, it was blocked at the end by shadowy figures, and she had to turn down a side alley.

The whole time, she hadn't heard a single shout, only the thuds of her and her pursuers' footsteps.

Kathren ran down alley after alley, forced down one road after another as she sought an escape route. Not that she had any place in mind, as she had long since lost track of where she was.

Chest heaving as she slid to a stop, Kathren eyed the figures stepping into view at the end of the alley. A quick look of her shoulder showed the winded, hunched-over forms of her pursuers.

What looked like half a dozen people were on each side of her, wicked grins on their faces as they finally cornered her. Sneering at her, the closest man said, "Where you gonn' go—

The man was cut off as Kathren blasted apart the wooden fence on her left with a blast of psy that took up half of her reserves. It was quite the oddity, as a building was torn down, and a fence was put up along the back of the lot. But Kathren wouldn't complain about having an opportunity to save her own life.

Running through the gap, she darted across the empty lot with only weeds growing in its space and stepped onto a new street. Across from her, leaning against the wall of an alley, was the large part-elf.

Heart sinking, Kathren knew that she was caught. She was never escaping, only being warned down so she was easier to catch. Then his face was lit up by the pipe he was smoking, illuminating his wink before he turned into his alley, vanishing from sight.

"What's going on here!" Roared a gruff voice to her right.

Turning, Kathren saw a Centurion leading her women down the street toward her.