No Sunshine in Hell

[Shang Tsung]

Was he dead?

Argento felt like he was floating in the dark.

He was dead again, wasn’t he?  The blade had cut him a little too deeply, and his body had failed him.

How long until the light would return?  Last time, the paladin swore it had been months.  All the faces he had recognized in the colosseum had been dead by the time he regained consciousness on the hellscape and been dragged back to waste another life suffering and dying for the pleasure of eldritch monstrosities.

As he drifted, the world started to take form—was he being reborn already?

No.

The scenery was too familiar.  The rolling hills, devoid of shrubbery and littered with the giant, polished carcasses of ancient species.  Once more, he saw his old world taking shape around his drifting consciousness.  On this occasion, he saw the faces of his allies form out there in the wilderness.  Ravik, the marksman, peering from his spyglass as Argento strode toward his fortified destination.  The human had always been a bit of a wild card—brooding and a bit off-putting with his choice of words and tone of voice.  The dwarf Tordeck, who approached from a different direction than Argento, had been a fearsome warrior.  A barbarian by birth, the dwarf had been a diamond in the rough.  The two warriors, along with the pair of elves, had been the last souls Argento had befriended.

But the scene taking shape…

The paladin felt his chest tighten—this was the memory he always dreaded.  The horrible day where he had met his final companions and seen the destruction of all he had cherished.  The first cracks in his devotion had set in this day, and while his rapturing into the Omniverse had stopped their spread, they had never healed.

Now, with the Underverse vying to shatter him completely, Argento was forced to watch helplessly as his lowest moment played out before him.

*

The journey to the Plains of Bone had been long and arduous, but the paladin Argento had never once faltered in his mission.  He had traversed the small mountains without too much effort.  Beyond that physical obstacle had been nothing but a long stretch of baked earth adorned with the remnants of deceased creatures.  Two days of riding had finally brought him to his destination.

As he looked out across the field at the crude encampment that contained the orcish marauders and their human prisoners, the loyal servant of the Glorious Sun knew that he didn’t have time to rest.  From the look of things, the orcs had been bivouacked in the area for quite some days, and one night could easily make the difference between success and failure.  Furthermore, the cries of agony and despair that the wind carried to his ears made it impossible for Argento to stall any longer.

The paladin returned to the saddle and set his sights on the camp.  Argento drew of deep breath of air into his lungs and let it slowly slip out through his lips before leaning over to touch his horse’s mane.  “Do you feel it in your bones, Maximus?”

Although he had been riding for days, the steed snorted defiantly at the palisaded encampment.  Unlike the beasts of burden utilized by farmers, tradesmen, or soldiers, the paladin's faithful mount would rarely falter, for Maximus was endowed with the same holy power as Argento.  The Glorious Sun and Saint Aureus had made them as one in their crusade for justice.  To the warhorse, the camp lying before them must have looked like a tiny pathetic thing, and the indignation in his friend’s eyes only fueled Argento’s resolve despite the heavy odds.

Looking to the sun, the paladin placed a hand upon his icon and whispered a prayer to his god.  Once his message was finished, the weary man reached for his other icon-a mighty hammer imbued with divine strength from Saint Aureus.  “Ride, my friend... Ride!”

Maximus let out one final snort and broke into a dash toward the ring of wooden pikes that encapsulated the slaver’s camp.  Given the great volume of suffering individuals, no one must have heard the thudding of the beast’s hooves upon the dead earth.  Once the horse vaulted the wall and crushed a hapless orc beneath its front feet, the others immediately took notice.

Without skipping a beat, a group of three greenskins grabbed nearby weapons and charged the mounted warrior.  Argento gestured with the reins despite knowing that Maximus needed no such direction.  

The horse pushed off of the dead orc beneath its forelimbs and turned to face fresh attackers.  After glancing back at its rider, Maximus charged the trio, which managed a few more paces before routing at the sight in front of them.

As the group split apart, Argento swung the hammer in a downward arc that caught one of the slavers right above the brow line.  The impact crushed the skull and knocked the already dead orc onto its haunches.  

At the same time, Maximus plunged his front legs into the ground and lashed out with his rear limbs at the orcs trying to flee behind him.  The calks on the horse’s shoes sheared through the flesh of the greenskins’ backs, but the real damage came from the vertebra smashed to powder by the impact. The pair of orcs flew a few feet through the air before crashing through one of the many leather tents that filled the encampment.

At the sight of her slain comrades, a female orc clad in leather armor and wielding a spiked club began to back away from the holy warrior.  After a few paces, she turned tail and fled toward the center of the camp.

“Don’t run, villainess!”  Clenching his bloodied weapon in his gauntleted fist, Argento braced himself as Maximus ran down the fleeing orc. When the pair caught up to the brutish warrior, the paladin swung another wide, sweeping arc that struck square between the female greenskin’s shoulder blades.  A faint groan escaped his target as she collapsed to the ground in a motionless heap.

Pfft!

The paladin’s ears caught the sound of the bolts whistling toward him just soon enough for him to twist his torso to face them.   With dull thuds, the first two projectiles ricocheted off his armor, but the third found a thinner segment of armor between his chest plate and shoulder.

The impact knocked Argento from the saddle and to the ground below.  Maximus, realizing what had happened, let out a whinny and reared up onto its hind legs to cease his momentum.

Stunned more by the drop than the projectiles, Argento’s first instinct was to gingerly plant a hand on the ground and reach his other for the bolt impaled into the chainmail joint.

A few yards away, a grinning orc lifted his axe above his head and charged the dazed paladin. The greenskinned warrior made it three paces before an irate Maximus reared up and came crashing down onto the monstrous humanoid.  

A mortified gasp escaped the orc’s maw as he struggled against the weight of the celestial beast, but before he managed to do much more than thrash wildly, a hoof came down onto his countenance. The impact and the weight of the horse crushed the orc’s face down into the back of his skull.      

Meanwhile, a less dazed Argento let out a grunt and wrenched the bolt out of his body.  Fortunately for the paladin, the projectile wasn’t barbed like most conventional arrows, otherwise it would have pulled most of his shoulder out with it.      

Discarding the bloodstained bolt, the paladin collected his hammer and rose to his feet. His focus shifted immediately to the three orcs actively reloading their heavy crossbows.  Maximus, who stood nearby, let out a snort and reared up on his hind legs in defiance.

Realizing that his mount’s armor wouldn’t endure the assault, Argento snatched his shield from the horse’s saddlebag and smacked its side. “Retreat, my friend.”

The glare of indignation the paladin received informed him that his mount did not share his feelings, but the intelligent beast understood the situation enough to obey Argento.  As the horse galloped off to the perimeter of the encampment, Argento turned-shield leading the way—toward the ranged orcs.      

The movement couldn’t have come a moment later, lest the trio of bolts would have found their marks on the paladin’s back and head, rather than burying harmlessly into his shield.

After taking a quick moment to ensure his forearm was properly strapped to the shield, Argento charged the orcs.  All but one, a stout female, turned tail and fled in an attempt to distance themselves from the armored warrior.  The remaining orc gritted her teeth as she fought to reload her weapon and bring it to bear on her foe.

Argento, his shield still leading the way, clenched his gauntleted fist around his hammer and felt the righteous fury well up within him. As he neared his target, the ambient glow of his weapon surged, giving the impression of ethereal white flames dancing across the steel and wood.

The orc sneered as she shouldered the loaded crossbow, but before her finger could close around the trigger, the shield lashed out and bashed her weapon.       The force cast aside the female’s dominant arm and exposed her face and chest to the shimmering head of the hammer.

When the arcing blow found its mark upon the chin of the orc, the might of the divinely infused attack carried enough strength to rend away the head of the humanoid.

As the broken body fell away, the glow of the paladin’s weapon subsided to its normal state, and without skipping a beat, Argento turned and readied himself as three more orcs emerged to confront him.  

Behind him, he heard the shuffling of worn leather boots on the dirt, and knew that he was being surrounded.  The members of the camp seemed to have finally organized themselves.  

Despite the odds quickly beginning to stack against him, the holy warrior smacked his hammer against the front of his steel shield. “Come now, savages, let us do battle!”

The response came in the common language, although the orcish accent made it barely coherent.  “You’re outnumbered, Human, you can’t hope to escape here alive.”

Without relaxing his stance, Argento glanced up and to his left to see that the speaker was a particularly muscular orc standing on an elevated platform.

Unlike the other warriors in the camp, the greenskin wore exquisite armor crafted from finely tanned animal skins and dotted with metal accents on important parts of his anatomy.  The differences did not stop there, for the hulking orc’s dull green flesh had been etched with orcish tribal symbols and some other spiritual markings.  In its hands, the orc held a double axe comprised of two axe heads on opposing ends of a metal pole.  For orcs, size often mattered.

“A Champion?” Argento’s light studies into the beliefs of the monstrous races had invryiolved a couple stories of orcish deity's favored disciples.  To become a champion, an orc had to win over both his people and his god, which was apparently a trying endeavor for the savages.  Much of the creatures flesh had yet to heal.

The orc snorted as he lifted the hulking, double axe over his head and rested it on his shoulders.  

“It was unwise of you to come barging in here, Paladin.”  Although its common was heavily accent, Argento understood enough to understand the sentence.  “You will go to meet your god on th—” Midsentence, the Champion dropped his weapon and yanked a nearby orc in front of him.  Before the other greenskin knew what had happened, a crossbow quarrel was buried through his heart.

Discarding the fresh corpse over the small platform, the Champion glared down at a group of orcs and pointed to somewhere beyond the palisade walls of the camp.

“Find out where that came from!”

Argento could not understand the command, screamed in the orcish tongue, but when the Champion retrieved his weapon and set his sights upon him, the paladin knew it was time to channel the full might of Saint Aureus.  He would either defeat this symbol of malice or join his ancestors in the here-after.

With a casual leap, the Champion landed in front of the holy warrior and brought one of his axe heads to bear on the man.  

The paladin swung up his shield and batted aside the blow, which fell away with little effort.  As it did, Argento came in with his hammer, which found itself lightly deflected by a rather deft twisting motion that brought the other axe head up to intercept his swing. The exchange finished, the two backed up a few paces to size up the other once more.

"You won't walk out of this camp in one piece."  Stepping back, the Champion motioned to two nearby orcs.  The pair of eager savages charged at the paladin from two opposing angles, forcing Argento to make a critical judgment call.  

As a jagged-edge axe came cleaving in at the back of his skull, the holy warrior twisted his torso and threw up his shield to deflect the blow.  At the same time, his hammer flew out in the opposite direction to intercept the longsword of his second attacker.  Throwing his weight out toward the axe-wielding orc, Argento threw his foe off balance long enough to give him the time to swing the shield around and bash open the swordsman's green visage.

With one orc still reeling back on his heels, the paladin turned and swung his hammer, catching the other savage square along the jawline with the requisite force to shear away its mandible.

Unfortunately for Argento, his little victory had little spoils, for as he watched his jawless adversary crumble into a heap, one of the Orc Champion’s axe heads lashed out at his neck.  The paladin maneuvered his shield to intercept the blow, but the impact nearly threw him to the ground nevertheless.

No longer opting to casually duel the human, the Eye stepped forward and brought the other axe head to bear on the paladin, who was forced to retreat to find the space needed to block the next attack.  Deflecting the blow down toward the ground, Argento moved closer to his foe and swung his hammer toward the orc's chest.  The battle-scared warrior let out a grunt and, without relinquishing his grip on his awesome weapon, leaned back enough to escape the arcing trajectory of the hammer.

Before Argento could curse the orc's dexterity, he was suddenly and violently plucked off the ground by a charging orc.  The paladin left the earth for but a few moments, before he and his attacker crashed through a wooden observation platform.  

Without hesitation, the orc on top of him drew a dagger and started jabbing at his armor, trying to find a weak part in the chainmail.  Despite a lot of enthusiasm, the greenskin failed to plunge its knife through the warrior's armor before a gauntleted fist connected with its throat.

Suddenly deprived of the ability to breath, the orc dropped its weapon and began to sputter and gag as its eyes widened in disbelief.  Argento's next punch broke the orc's nose and knocked it off of him, giving him the freedom he needed to scramble free of the wooden debris.  

As he rose up to a fully vertical position, the paladin collected his weapon and set his sights on the Champion, who stood where he had been prior to the scuffle.  The battle-hardened orc flashed the holy warrior a mouthful of jagged, yellowed teeth as he leisurely twirled his double-axe as if it were light as a hatchet.

From his left, Argento spotted another orc rushing at him.  Not one to fall to the same tactic twice, he dropped his hammer and reached for a piece of broken plank.  Planting one end into the ground, the paladin quickly punched off part of the other end, leaving him with a nice, pointed tip.  As the orc drew its weapon to strike at him, the paladin, his left hand still braced on the makeshift spear, dropped down to his haunches.

Without realizing it was being played for a fool, the sneering orc impaled itself onto the jagged wooden plank with enough force to push the tip out through its back.  Only Argento's body prevented the dead greenskin's momentum from carrying it all the way to the other end of the improvised weapon.

Ignoring the blood that now decorated his face and chest, the paladin ducked around the limp orc and tried to find the Champion amidst what seemed to be a state of general panic.  To his knowledge, Argento was the only intruder, but from the looks of it, several orcs were ignoring him en route to the other side of the camp.  His empathic connection with Maximus told him that his friend and mount was out of harm's way, which meant the horse hadn't tried to intervene once more.  

To add further to the confusion, one of the orcs scampering away let out a yelp and collapsed into a lifeless heap.  A crossbow quarrel, embedded in the back of its neck, glinted in the sunlight.

It was then that Argento spotted the Orc Champion standing next to a cage that housed a terrified young girl.  The clearly irritating orc was actively trying to command his underlings and seemed to be relaying orders to a lieutenant.  "Start liquidating the prisoners and get ready to move on to the mountains.  Solomon says these ones aren't worth the hassle."

While the paladin could barely understand the orcish language, he soon realized what was happening when the underling orc drew a sword and ran it through the little girl.

"No!"  Argento's scream drew the attention of the Champion, who grinned when he saw the clearly distraught man charging at him.  As the paladin drew near, the battle-scarred orc noticed the intensity of the glow around the human's weapon.  Knowing full well that he wanted to avoid such an interaction, the Champion shoved his unfortunate underling at his opponent.

With the might of Saint Aureus to guide his hammer arm, Argento ended the wide-eyed orc's life before it even realized it had been thrown onto the sacrificial altar.

Ignoring the spectacle of gore that came when his divinely infused weapon popped his opponent's skull like a lanced boil, the paladin spun around the dying creature and bashed his shield into the chest and face of the Orc Champion.  If not for the fact that its double-axe was planted on the ground, the veteran warrior would have surely been thrown prone by the force of the shield.

Scowling at the coppery taste of its blood that now tainted its mouth; the Orch Champion hoisted its weapon up and threw all its strength into an attack aimed solely at breaking the human's momentum.  

Argento easily parried to blow, but he was forced to pull back a few steps to prevent the other end of the weapon from swinging in from another angle.  Unlike the last time they had crossed steel, the paladin held nothing back—his hammer led the charge.  Although ferocity wasn't very becoming of him, the man pressed his opponent, forcing the orc to devote most of his focus defensive measures.

For the next several minutes, Argento and the Orc Champion exchanged a cacophony of blows.  Axe blades and hammerheads collided in short, violent succession, often eliciting fleeting sparks that danced across the steel before fading into oblivion.  

Neither combatant held an advantage, although the Orc Champion found himself constantly retreating in order to maintain the space he needed to use his weapon to block and deflect the onslaught of hammer blows.  

Try as he might, the orc knew that he was running out of space, for he was being driven down a dead-end path between a few cages.  In the end, it was a terrible coincidence that turned the tide against Argento.  As the paladin parried a blow and threw the orc off balance, his eyes caught the contents of a nearby cage.  

Despite the ragged clothes and the dirt and blood that stained them, Argento would never fail to recognize his wife and two daughters.  Throughout all his journey he had waited for this very moment, when he saw the mother of his children once more.  The woman—frail from her trials—had her oldest daughter clenched tightly to her breast, while their youngest cowered against her thigh.

"Antonia!"

The haggard, emaciated woman smiled faintly and reached through the bars for her husband, but before Argento could reach to touch her, the Champion pounced on the opportunity.  

A sudden, heavy blow caught the paladin across the chest, stole his breath, and threw him to the ground.  Instead of taking the warrior's life, the orc stared the fallen man right in the eyes as he thrust the barbed tip at the top of his axeheads clean through Antonia Camarinos’ chest  The woman let out weak scream as the blade was torn from her bosom and driven through her older daughters’ neck.

With wet thuds, they collapsed onto Saury, Argento's barely six-year-old daughter.  In moments, the last of their fleeting strength drained out with their blood.  

That moment would be forever etched into the paladin's mind—the image of his family broken forever at the hands of a savage beast.  All at once, a deluge of emotions overwhelmed the holy warrior as his already weary mind simply failed to process what had just transpired.  Fear, denial, and hate blended together in his heart; threatening to tear down every facet of the belief structure he had built his life around the last thirty years.

Looking up, Argento saw the grinning Orc Champion advancing toward him, double-axe hoisted above his head and ready to deliver the killing blow.  A small part of the paladin screamed at him to move, to lift his shield… to do anything to avoid the inevitable outcome of the situation.  The greater part of the paladin, however, was numb to everything except the blood of his wife and daughter wetting the barren earth around their cage.

A shadow fell over the human as he remained fixated on the morbid tableau.

A snicker escaped the orc's maw as he brought the axe down onto the paladin's skull.

Before the deathblow fell, the Champion let out a shriek that seemed equal parts agony and rage.  The orc warrior's weapon veered from its intended course and crashed into the ground as the greenskin fell sideways onto a knee.

The jarring noise from his opponent broke Argento from his haze, and the broken man looked up to see part of a hatchet buried in the orc's right shoulder.  The paladin followed the monstrous creature’s red eyes to a few feet away, where a blood- and viscera-stained dwarf in platemail stood laughing up a storm.

"Truth be told, I've always been rubbish with those things!"  Again the dwarf broke out into a fit of hearty laughter as Orc Champion bit down on his cracked black lips and wrenched from his shoulder.

Although fresh blood continued to spurt and bubble through the wound, the battle-scared orc paid little attention to the injury.  His years as a disciple to his brutal god gave him ample fortitude to suppress a great deal of pain.  

Paying no heed to Argento, who remained fixated on his dead family, the enraged Orc Champion charged the dwarf.

***

The situation in the camp had disintegrated into complete and utter chaos in barely a half hour.

A human and a dwarf, for whatever reason, had managed to assault the encampment within a ten-minute window of one another.  Despite odds that should have made it impossible for them to lose, the orcs had been broken by what could easily have seemed like a planned attack to the untrained eye.  Ravik, from his assortment of hilltop vantage points, could tell that neither the knight nor the axe-wielding maniac had coordinated their efforts.

Then again, the fact that nearly a dozen orcs were bleeding out from crossbow quarrels logged in their necks didn't help the greenskins' moral.

Whatever the case, it was obvious from Ravik's newest patch of cover that the orcs were cutting their losses.  What had once been groans and moans of agony and hunger had been replaced with the screams of the dying—the orcs were slaughtering their cargo and high-tailing it for the mountains.  

While he didn't care for the fate of some grungy peasants or their homely wives and bonnet-clad children, the assassin knew he couldn't afford to wait for the chaos to subside.  If he wanted to locate the elusive Solomon, he needed to get into the camp.

With his crossbow loaded and snuggly secured to his waist, Ravik slipped out from the patch of scraggly trees and strode across the field toward the camp.  The general chaos meant he didn't need to bother with camouflage or stealth.

***

"Is that all you got, you woman?"

The dwarf’s insult came even with the Orc Champion continued to force him back.  Yet with each blow from the double-axe that fell upon his own weapon, Tordeck's grin grew wider.

Even the battle-seasoned orc—his temperament soured by the blood still oozing down his chest, chin, and arm—couldn't restrain himself as he tried to get around the stout warrior's oversized axe and dense plate mail.  But even when the dwarf was too slow or absent-minded to block an attack, the edge of the orc's axe failed to cut through the armor of his opponent.  

As Tordeck lazily shrugged off another blow to the chest and shoulder, the orc stepped forward and slammed his foot into the dwarf's unguarded face.  The impact sent the bearded warrior to the ground, where he promptly spat up a mouthful of blood and saliva.  Feeling as if he had proved a point, the Orc Champion grinned down at the fallen dwarf and snarled.  "Your armor is as thick as your skull, mountain vermin."

Instead of responding, Tordeck clenched his hands around the handle of his weapon and glared up at the orc.  The Champion immediately noticed the change in behavior—the dwarf's pupils had constricted and his breathing became ragged, almost seething bursts.  

Years of combat experience made the transformation less of an unknown to the seasoned orcish warrior.  "Barbarian."

When the dwarf spoke, his words sounded more akin to a guttural growl than the lackadaisical brogue of a few minutes prior. "Let me show you how it's done!"  Lunging from the ground, Tordeck swung low, forcing the Orc Champion to jump back and avoid losing both his feet at the kneecaps.  Upon landing, the orc spun his double-axe around and swung down at the skull of the dwarf, who sidestepped the attack.  Without wasting a beat, the barbarian's brought his own axe to bear on his opponent's weapon.

A grating metallic screech filled the air as Tordeck's axe sundered its target.  The orc let out a frustrated growl as he stumbled forward, his balance gone the moment he lost half of his weapon.  The orc wasted no time in countering, and with a surprising amount of dexterity, the warrior switched his grip and swung the remaining head at Tordeck's neck.  The impact dented the gorget and left the beginnings of what would be a colorful bruise, but it did not have the intended result of severing the bearded head from the rest of the stout, muscular frame.

Once again, Tordeck lunged into the melee—his axe leading the way.  The dwarf's twisted his axe handle and jabbed with the head of the weapon as if it were a sword.  A resounding clang filled the air as the orc parried the blow out to the side and swung his spare hand at the barbarian's gruff visage.

Even as the green knuckles smashed into his cheekbone, Tordeck reversed his grip and brought the shaft of his weapon into a collision course with the orc's groin.  The reeling Champion clenched his jaw shut and slammed a knee into his opponent's face, knocking the dwarf onto his armored haunches.  Although he expected a follow-up attack, the barbarian looked up to see the orc oblivious to anything but the pain.

"Well at least we know you have a scrotum!"  Even though his rage kept his heartbeat elevated and his breathing erratic, Tordeck was able to spew out the remark as he rose to his feet and lunged.  

The Orc Champion let out a growl and grabbed the broken ax head resting on the ground.  The dwarf grinned and smacked the improvised projectile from the sky a beat later, but in his hubris, he failed to realize why the orc would stoop to throwing a broken weapon at him.

As Tordeck's weapon went in one direction to deflect the projectile, the orc took a step forward and swung his axe in from the other side.  All the barbarian saw were stars as the blow to his chest drove the wind from his lungs and sent him crashing to the ground like a metal sack of potatoes.

"Die, dwarf!"  Tordeck, his vision blurred from a probable concussion, could only watch as the wounded orc stalked over to him and lifted his weapon up for the killing blow.

Instead of splitting the dwarf's thick skull apart, the Orc Champion took a final step, tensed up, and let out a sudden shout as a blade punched out through the right side of his ribcage.

Behind the orc, a still winded Argento let out a grunt and twisted the handle of the sword, further shredding his foe’s lung.  

The act wasn't valorous.  It wasn't heroic.  

But with the sight of his butchered family still fresh in his mind, the paladin had been able to set aside the more recommended tenants of Saint Aureus.  "Send my regards to your fel god."

The response that Argento got was the back of the orc's skull slamming into his nose, staggering him and breaking his grip on the sword.  As the paladin faltered, the Champion spun around and lifted his weapon to destroy the holy warrior with the last of his fleeting strength.  

At that moment, the three warriors all heard a subtle twang, and before Argento or Tordeck knew what had happened, the Orc Champion had dropped his weapon and clutched his fist around something outside of his neck.

The orc brought his closed hand to his eyes, where he saw the tail-end of a crossbow quarrel.  "You…"  Nothing followed the remark, for the Orc Champion opened his trembling hand to see that the tip of the projectile was stained red.  

It was then that the already dying warrior heard and felt the blood start to spurt from his punctured carotid artery.  With one weak, defiant snarl, the greenskin fell forward onto his face and was swept away into the winds of oblivion.