The Flaming Crows

They passed through the dimly lit bar, receiving several suspicious stares from the surly men and women nursing their drinks as they entered a hallway in the back. The hallway had doors on each side and turned left at the end, leading to yet another corridor, this one a dead end.

Robna stepped up to the wall that blocked their path and Fate felt a rush of Divine Energy flow into it. A click resounded, and the wall slid to the side, opening to a set of descending stairs. They went down, the stairs illuminated by a flickering torch every twenty feet, to enter a room lit by electric lights.

The left wall had racks from end to end, filled with swords, maces, flails, spears, bows, and all other manner of weapons. The right wall had bunk beds stacked next to each other, enough for a hundred people to sleep in. Between these two walls was about a thousand square feet of space, with a wooden table about ten feet by ten feet in the middle.

It had a map on top that took up the entire surface of the table, the corners held down by knives stabbed into it, with seven more knives stabbed where the major cities were. The rest of the space was filled with barrels of arrows, crates, training dummies, armor piled on top of each other, and a table with a chessboard on top.

The three people in the room immediately looked up at the new arrivals. One of them, a white-haired man with an eyepatch over one eye and dark clothes, studied Fate with suspicion.

"Who is this, Robna? You know what Margaret said about bringing untrustworthy people here. We're still laying low from the last person we had to dispose of."

The man said the last few words in what he thought was a sinister and threatening tone, but Fate couldn't care less. The highest-Leveled person here was a freshly made Avatar, and Fate had already killed one at the threshold to Personification. There would be trouble, but not from this scrawny whelp.

"Relax, Gerald. Even if he was a security hazard, we'd be able to take him out easily," Robna said matter-of-factly. Fate kept his skepticism to himself.

One of the other two, a man so muscular he resembled the statues of Heracles that Fate had seen in museums, looked him up and down, his face a mask. "This man makes my instincts scream," he said in a voice as deep as coal was black. He turned his gaze to Robna. "You have brought danger to our home, Robna."

Gerald and Robna's faces froze when he said that. Robna roamed Fate's body with her eyes, trying to find what would make the large man say that. "A-are you sure, Hank?" She said meekly.

"Positive," the herculean man, Hank, replied.

Gerald pulled out a knife from within the folds of his clothes. "You better start talking, Robna, or I'm liable to start claiming 'security breach.'"

"No need for that," the last person, a woman with fiery red hair, gray eyes, and the only one at the Level of Avatar present, said. At her command, Gerald slipped his knife back into his clothes, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

The fiery-haired woman gave Fate a once-over. He returned her stare with a look of indifference.

"Yes, he can definitely be of some help," the woman said. "You did well to bring him here, Robna. What is your name, stranger?"

"You first," Fate responded.

She smiled. "I'm Margaret, the leader of this cell of the Flaming Crows, an organization dedicated to stopping the spread of influence of the Advanced. They've sunken their teeth into over half of this solar system already, the ignorant civilians none the wiser."

"Is it really a good idea to just divulge everything like that, Margaret?" Gerald asked, still apprehensively staring at Fate.

"If he truly means us harm, our friends will avenge us. Now, stranger. Tell us your name."

"Fate."

"A strong name for one so unknown," Margaret said. "What is your purpose here?"

Fate crossed his arms. "I thought it was for the 'best beer in the city,' but now I'm not so sure."

Robna coughed. "I didn't really tell him what we were," she said quietly.

"Well, like it or not, you're part of us now," Margaret told Fate, "which means that you have to help us with our goal, starting with the assassination of Avatar Gregovich. We've been trying to kill the old bastard for years now, but his Divine power makes all our efforts fruitless."

"If we decide we cannot trust you, we will kill you," she continued. "If we decide you are a liability, we will kill you. If we decide we don't want you working with us anymore, we will kill you. Understand?"

Fate snorted, uncrossing his arms. "I've had my fill of forced servitude, thanks. If these are the tactics you use, you aren't any better than the Advanced."

"And what would you know of the Advanced, mister Fate?" Margaret said in a low voice. "Make sure it is a good answer. Your survival hinges on it."

Fate slid his jacket off, taking off his shirt and turning to show his back. He heard gasps from all but Margaret as they looked upon the x-shaped scar that ran from the tops of his shoulders to his waist.

"These scars only come from the experiments of the Advanced," Margaret said. "All this does is prove that you were affiliated with them at some point."

"I don't know how old your little group is, but I can promise I've done more to harm those fuckers than any one of you," Fate said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a job to finish."

He slipped his shirt back on and made to leave, but Robna stopped him by grasping his arm. "Is that what you were angry at, in the castle?" She asked. "You tried to kill Gregovich, didn't you?"

"And I intend to finish what I started," Fate said, tugging his arm free. He continued his exit. "But I doubt your band of merry men will be of much help."

"Don't speak too soon," Margaret said. "We believe we've found a way to kill him."

Fate stopped at the base of the stairs, turning back.

"I'm listening."

"Good, you have brains in that head of yours," Margaret said. "Don't forget that if you try to leave, we're obligated to kill you. Now, come sit down and I'll explain."