The Sixth God

Chapter 1

The big beautiful woman walked in front of him, the motion of her flesh mesmerised his mind as they journeyed through the pine forest. She held her basket causing the sounds of clinking from the glass bottles, and he carried sacks of the hard bread made from the flaxseed. Breath was lost as she paused to stretch her back making the fabric of black and silver become taught. Two long plaits of purple framed the deep valley of cleavage and when turning, she smiled and those glistening droplets of sweat demanded to be licked off. ‘Stub, do you suffer from those rude thoughts once more?’ Stub then focused his eyes away from the glistening chest and into her eyes, dark in make-up, giving inappropriate visions. ‘No, My Lady, it is impossible to suffer in your presence.’ She smiled again to his words making his heart skip a beat. ‘If we keep this up we will never make it to market, whether it be from lost time or the depletion of my energy. Besides, don’t you think three times is enough for this day?’ Stub looked to the morning sky and then down to the large curved woman and said, ‘No.’

A twitch of the face and the woman’s focus was elsewhere as she squatted to the earth and placed a hand. ‘The hex gives warning Stub, men approach, I sense armour. Prepare yourself and stay close.’ Stub dropped his sacks that dented the earth with a thud, he then worked his large hands to free the stiffness. Shouted words were heard from armoured men. ‘Halt and stand still!’ Hands were on the pommels of steel, as one step forth in the shimmer of armoured superiority. ‘The giant and the fat woman. You were found easily enough, I must say you are no giant, but big you are, damn big. Raghop’s gaze is upon you and you shall have his judgement, bring forth the Seer.’ Stub saw a muttering old woman led by chain to sniff the air and stare intently. Twenty men and one old woman surrounded them and even his slow mind knew it was a bad situation. The old woman snarled and clawed at thin clothing, running skeletal hands over the tattered dress. The Seer showed signs of arousal that was promptly yanked away by the chain. She spat and flashed teeth. ‘The pleasures are rife, they stink of fluids. She is spoilt and he. And he!’ The Seer moans and rubs what throbbed. A whip of chain brings forth a yelp and more snarls. ‘She is a witch, a greedy witch, and the pleasures, so greedy, so very greedy!’ The Seer screams in frustration as she is yanked away, with withered breasts exposed and wanting. Swords are drawn, and Stub looks to His Lady to see her nod. His mighty hand clamped to the helmeted head lifting the man off the ground. ‘Stand back or Stub squishes his head.’ The Witch said. The man in Stub’s hand clings to his thick wrist and swears profusely with pain, as the metal of his helmet clamps to his skull. A stalemate is formed allowing time for the Witch to collect fluids of sweat upon the fingers. Enabling ancient symbols to be written in hissing purple. Spirals of wind stirs the pine needles off the ground, whipping them into a frenzy. They are soon heard smacking into the armour of steadfast men, blinding them to her next move.

The Witch runs her hands between the legs and coats them heavily with fluid. ‘We go Stub and bring the man.’ The Witch’s writing is quick as ten fingers make their marks to the air. The wind was dying and armoured men are drawing closer. The glow is strong and distortions are heard. As the air warps apart something counters and promptly all is still. The Witch screams as the writing is drawn away into a sword held by a woman in white armour. ‘Stub its God forged.’ She hissed in pain, covering her ears. ‘Yes, Witch you were close to escaping and now Raghop’s gaze is upon you. And you large Ogre, let my captain go.’ The woman in white’s voice distorted his vision as Stub looked to His Lady in writhing pain. The number had grown to twenty-two and the God forged sword started to hurt his ears. With a deep breath Stub made his decision and felt metal crush, making blood squirt between his fingers. The body struggled no more and with the dead weight, it could easily be thrown at the woman in white. Even in armour the attack was quick as the blade slid easily through his tough skin. No air remained in the Ogre's lungs after the abrupt exhale. The God forged weapon was buried to the hilt, flush between his ribs. Stub’s strength ceased and felt the burn of his body, soul burn as they called it. When one dies from a weapon such as this, light escapes the body and you are done. Stub knew the stories and now experienced it first-hand. He thought of His Lady and willed with all his might for one more action. He glared to the shocked woman in white armour, then put his fist to her fine face. The Ogre then promptly succumbed to death before the woman skidded to a halt.

The echo of clapping twitched his ears, it was dark, totally dark where he was. The clapping persisted and Stub stood in an unclothed form with no sword impaled in him. His hands searched and he felt no blood or wound. ‘Four hundred and eighty-two thousand, three hundred and fifty-eight deaths I have seen dealt by God forged weapons and you Sir, are the first to delay your soul long enough to demonstrate something unseen before, vengeance from being killed.’ The voice was young and male. ‘It was not for vengeance, I wanted to give My Lady a chance to escape.’ Stub said feeling for anything around him. ‘Well, in that you have failed, the witch is bound and captive, I believe they are going to burn her.’

‘Then send me back and let me save My Lady.’

‘Really and what makes you think I can do that?’

‘You are a God, I am dead, and so you must be a God.’ A chuckle was heard. ‘So Stub what do you know of the Gods, tell me all you know? And we will see where that gets you.’ Stub strained with thought to recall all he knew. ‘There are five Gods, Technolus, Sadarsa, Splice, Vanarus and Raghop. People worship them and they get weapons. That is what I know.’

‘Well Stub. You know very little. Let me tell you, Gods are meddlesome creatures and there are more than five. I could explain about the manifestation of energies and their manipulation, but that would be lost on you.’ There was a glare from Ogre eyes. ‘I am slow, not stupid, worship brings Gods their power, their energies for them to do whatever with.’

‘So, not as dumb as you appear to be, so look upon me and tell me which God I am?’

Appearing before him, Stub looked upon a throne made out of wispy smoke and there sat a young man dressed in tailored blue and of dark skin. ‘I cannot tell, you do not match any descriptions.’ Stub said after a long study. A smile of pure white teeth began the God's words, ‘True, Technolus would have machinery. Sadarsa would have pleasures abound. Splice would have nature present. Vanarus would have chanting and praise. And Raghop...’

‘Would have his scales.’ Stub finished the words, edged with hate. ‘So not a Raghop fan then, can’t blame you his Champion did kill you after all. Here Stub I will tell you a story of a child who gets into trouble about eating a cookie, or something, it doesn't matter. What matters is when the child is in trouble they hope for something bigger than them to come and help. They have no name for this thing, but that does not stop the hope from starting. Now, as they grow they take on the five known Gods and that’s that. But before they do that, before they know for a certainty there are only five Gods, there is me.’

‘And who are you?’

‘I haven’t got a clue, so I just do what I do. I have seen children drown, cry over dead families and their own blood and take cookies as well. I act when I can, in little ways for little beings. You Stub were little once, you had a rabbit and you patted it too hard and it died. You wished for it to come back to life, but it didn't, and you learnt to be gentle with creatures. Then you escaped the Morals War and hid, all half breeds were being slaughtered and those dogs were sniffing you out. But they did not find you and you knew they should have. It is the little things that add up, it is the little things I do.’ The God said, crossing his legs. ‘I am not little anymore so what do you want from me?’ A God’s stare looked upon him. ‘No you are not little anymore, tall, big and much muscle. You had strength and now you’re dead. But still, you got a punch in and that is no little thing either. Maybe it is time to enter a Champion into the world’s chaos. I have felt for some time, the Gods are becoming more indulgent, more chaotic. But you keep company un-befit of a Champion, a witch nonetheless. A woman who willingly fornicated with a demon, then ingested her own offspring to gain power and powerful she is, as she ingested twin Demon-spawn.’ And there Stub looked upon a God who sat silently judging him, with an unnerving look.

Tied to a pine tree the witch struggled against the punches to her body as kindling was heaped around her. ‘Enough!’ The Champion ordered through a spitting command. She stood with swollen eyes, a flattened nose and no front teeth, upper or lower. Beautiful once, now beautiful no more. The Witch hung slack breathing hard. ‘Your death won’t be so quick compared to your lumbering, dead brute.’ The Witch laughed and so did the Seer in lusty self-indulgence. ‘You! Tame the Seer and throw her into the coldest water and you Witch are nothing more than a whore to the unclean.’ Blood passed the Witch’s lips. ‘And you just got real ugly, real quick. My man Stub got you good, I will burn happy knowing that. Even your Seer enjoys it so.’ The armoured fist punched hard to the Witch’s stomach. ‘You will not suffer a quick death. No matter how well you taunt me. Raghop blessed me with his divinity to judge those unworthy of life. I will hear you beg him for death, soon enough.’ The Witch looked upon the red stained chin of the Champion. ‘You just carry a weapon, there is nothing blessed about you. How many swords has Raghop got walking around? There is nothing special about you, nothing at all.’ With a small huff the Champion spat red over the Witch, thick and slimed. ‘Get the fire going, I want to watch the Witch burn.’

Stub grew impatient with the silence. ‘My Lady is a good woman, and her ill deed was done long ago. And she has done a lot of good since.’ The God huffed. ‘Two hundred and fifty-three years ago her deed was done and she only caters to the vanities of those seeking her potions. It only took a handful of coins to put Raghop’s gaze upon her.’ He said with a wave of his hand. ‘My Lady does not do hex or ill curse for others. She helps the animals and prays to Splice for guidance.’ Stub was cut-off by interruption. ‘Splice is nothing to be prayed to idly, humans are sacrificed to fertilise the ground. Picture ten children tied upside down around a large bulbous tree, and then their throats are slit for nourishment. That is the God of Nature. I have seen this year after year, just so one more ring of growth is assured.’ Stub drew a breath, ‘Give me a God forged sword. I shall cut any tree down and with My Lady at my side, I will do anything you command.’ Stub said with pleading hands. ‘You would journey to the Evergreen, take on the Champions of stone and chop down the rotted root of Splice, God of Nature, bringing all wrath upon you and your Lady, with just a sword. You would fail, no God forged weapon can do such a thing and I don’t make weapons. Tell me Stub of bold promise, have you heard of the God of Steel?’ With a shaking head, he said, ‘No, but Technolus covers the metals and machines.’

With a grin, the God spoke his words, ‘And what did she use to build with? The Hammer of steel, the God of Steel. Prayed into existence by those wishing stronger things than stone. An elemental God, old, powerful, strong and now all but forgotten. He would do much to damage Technolus, he lives barely in existence and is strained of mind. I have him in my possession after he was discarded, unwanted and unneeded.' The God brought forth a small cage conjured out of the gloom. Stub looked closely and saw a small man shape of metal, gnawing at the bars. ‘This is a God, he is but a handful of metal? Moving metal, but just a handful.’ Stub said with fascination. ‘Careful, insults he still understands and besides he is a weapon capable of great destruction. Especially to those who think themselves indestructible. Now Hammer I shall bind you to Stub’s mortal coil, he is chosen as my Champion. All that we have discussed is now set in motion, you will abide by what we have agreed upon. Stub, you are going back, prepare yourself for pain, a tremendous amount of pain. But before you go, I need a name, something to announce the sixth God into existence upon the planet.’

‘I am not good, with such things.’

‘Well, it seems I am not good at choosing Champions, we all have our flaws.’ Out of nowhere and totally non Stub like inspiration quickly formed the words, ‘Cower the God of Witness.’ Once the words were spoken by Stub he was gone, leaving Cower to ponder his name. ‘It seems to have a dash of the ironic about it, but still, it’s not a bad name to die from. Now brothers and sisters Cower the God of Witness is intertwining with your fates.’

Armoured men heard the painful screams of a loud brute with a deep voice. Swords were drawn and nervous glances were exchanged. In the distance, a large dead ogre rose screaming. The Champion pushed through the frozen men and drew the God forged weapon, even she hesitated with memories of disfigurement in her mirror. ‘Shields at the ready and form up, we go and kill this thing together.’ Her men formed up on either side and went forth in unison. The large brute stumbled using trees for support as he picked up a blacksmith’s hammer, although a bigger version of it. The God forged sword hissed the air as it came near the lumbering brute. Anger stared back at them, and once the screams of the Witch were heard, all was set in motion.

Stub, stubbed his toe on the God of Steel, Hammer that was now heavy in his hand. With focusing eyes, he saw the wall of shield between him and smoke. His Lady screamed renewing his focus and it was time to see what would happen with the clash of Hammer upon shield. Shields were raised as he over swung the hammer, the metal head clanged to the shield. A dent was formed than a scream was heard by the armoured man underneath. Stub lifted the hammer and noticed a wedged whole through the shield in the centre of the dent. All eyes looked at the hammer, his, the enemy’s and the dead man’s eyes, as a spike of metal quickly formed back into the hammer. Blades of steel cut the air between them that kept Stub from closing the gap for striking. As if responding to what was needed, the metal handle grew in length as the head of the hammer diminished in size. Half the size four times the reach as an armoured man found out as a spike punched through his shield, arm, chin and neck.

Stub chose in action he knew he would regret later, he decided to run. After yelling for an overhand swing, to which the shields were quickly raised to. He faked the attack to slip past them. His lumbering run began and he was quickly past the mass of swords and armour. Muscle pain and bone aches were going to be his companions for days afterwards, as his heavy bulk took its toll. But when His Lady screams he has no choice but to run. Smoke was rising rapidly as the crackles of the flames danced upon the flammable stage. Armour clanked and jostled behind him, as they ran in pursuit. His Lady was reached and Hammer gave an edge that easily cut the thick rope. Kindling was kicked far as Stub took exception to his surroundings. The Witch with hands over her ears cowered behind her dead man, the noise of the God forged weapon hurt only her to no end. She used all her concentration to remain standing, even if her blistered feet and scorched legs demanded she fall. Keeping pace with the backward walking Stub, the Witch knew she was of no help in the presence of that damnable weapon’s noise.

Stub knew His Lady was hurt from the fire and God forged sword. So he decided to strike it with a God. An easy target as it stood out in length to incapacitate His Lady’s magic. The God of Steel met the God forged sword and succumbed to its edge. It sliced deep through the metal head, all stood in awe at what happened. The hammer held tight to the sword and Stub used his strength to yank the sword and the Champion out of the line of armour and steel. The Champion screamed as a large Ogre fist connected to her face once more, sending the woman flying back into the shield wall. Her facial structures crumpled as the hammer seemed to coat the God forged weapon.

The terrible noise for the Witch had stopped, hands were quickly taken from her ears to between the legs. Fluid needed to coat her fingers, it was to be the conduit between her and the air, thicker the fluid, stronger the spell. Fingers searched hard for all she had, sweat, yellow stream and the fluid within and when in a rush nothing was gentle about it. Her ever-wet gave what she needed and so the fingers were coated well. The purple glow was strong and the distortions were heard, with the air warping apart. The black passage was opened, ‘We go Stub.’ Was all that needed to be said as the Witch and her lumbering brute jumped in. The Witch stood in darkness and held out her hand for Stub to find it, once the large hand was found, she concentrated on the ten steps. Heel to toe slowly done with no distraction, if distracted, if a mistake was made, she too would become part of the shrieking misery obscured by the dark Vale. Witches voices countless in number screamed their agonies, lost forever from the ten steps.

Stub held firm to His Lady’s hand as this place terrified him so, the tight rope of the dark Vale chilled to no end. Agonising voices screamed for help at being lost, at being alone and at being eaten. It had been two years since the last time he was here and still a witch screamed as her legs were gnawed upon. He could easily hear marrow being sucked out, by something that enjoyed it so. And then with a long hiss he was back in the world with His Lady. ‘Your legs, My Lady they need attention.’ Stub said dropping the hammer that coated a sword. ‘A minor inconvenience, my dear Stub, compared to what you have been through. Please tell me all as I heal.’ The Witch listened as she rubbed her fingers over the seeping flesh of her legs, bursting blisters and pressing for the leakage. She wrote to the air, healing wards that encircled the legs, the purple haze painfully did its work upon her damaged skin. ‘Cower, the God of Witness, a sixth God to the world. No good will come of this, holy wars have been started for less. And you, my dear Stub are now bound to him, our simple life is over.’ The Witch said flinching in pain. Stub knelt intently watching her legs heal. ‘The God of Witness gave me a chance to save you and I did. I will never regret what I have agreed to.’ His Lady’s hand stroked lightly on his wide cheek and he enjoyed the sensation by closing his eyes to her touch. He leaned forward and presented his lips and hoped he would feel hers upon his. A kiss was shared and quickly broken as strange sounds were heard from the direction of the dropped hammer.

Both Stub and the Witch sat in disbelief as they watched a thick little metal man consume the God forged sword, the sun’s glare brightly reflected from the gleaming metal. The crunching of metal and snapping sounds were the only indication that this was really happening and not some mere illusion. ‘And this is an elemental God of Steel, the discarded tool of Technolus.’ The Witch said. Hammer stopped his digestion and faced the witch, spikes emitted from his form as he ran at her. The mighty hands of Stub caught the prickly little God and held him firm. ‘She did not mean it, mighty God of Steel, you who stood strong and created much. Please forgive her. She has not seen your power, forgive her God Hammer of Metals.’ Stub said calmly as he patted the cooling God. ‘He is old and made Technolus great, if it wasn't for him there would be no Technolus. My Lady, he could be the first God to walk among us.’ Hammer leapt from his hands and returned to consume the God forged weapon. ‘Well, he did neutralise that sword.’ She said to Stub’s smiling face. ‘My Lady, do you know where we are?’ The Witch surveyed their surrounds. ‘These trees are unknown to me. The Ten Steps of the Vale have moved us far. I'm afraid all that we had is now lost in more ways than one. Our house, your breads, my altar is all gone.’ Stub repositioned to kneel behind the witch, so she could lounge back, and he began massaging her head. ‘If you are with me, I need nothing else, My Lady.’ The God of Steel paused to regard the situation then continued consuming the God forged sword of Raghop. To which it found to be delicious and most satisfying.

The Morals War -a mere disagreement between Sadarsa- God of Pleasure and Vanarus- God of Devotion led to the culling of half breeds that had increased in number, due to the followers of pleasure that fornicated with all that moved. It is said that Sadarsa mentioned that a man would be more devoted to a woman with four breasts than two. Subsequently all women with four breasts were wiped from the earth as well as the colonies of the Furred and the Ogres.

A reading from a church of Raghop.

Holy war-an excuse to flex might, examples of reasons- boredom, flirting, and the birth of a five legged goat, gender and species equality. Toll thus counted, two billion eight hundred thousand lives lost. A holy war must involve three Gods or more.

The witch- despised by all faiths and all races, eradicate on site. Demon whores and Spectral sluts.

The Seer- survived victim of Demon rape often cursed to see in the souls of others. Often mimics what they glean, eagerly sought out by followers of Raghop and Vanarus.

Demon- old race of the night, sadistic and fearsome. Best to die, than fall into their clutches.

Demon-spawn- unknown stripped from records.

Ogres- half breed of giant and man.

Furred- a lower half breed that has fur and/or tail, either derived from the two branches of the Slawe- Moon or Sun. They have more human looking faces.

Readings from Master Pitch’s library.

Chapter 2

Techniqua, the city of Technolus the God of Machines, this is where a Gutter Kid sat uncomfortable in the clothes of disguise. Two hours of climbing through and over pipes, walkways, walls and ladders. She gazes at the mighty gears under the Palace high in the sky. Two hundred metres across and made out of bronze, five of them just turning each other, for no other purpose than to awe those who gaze upon them. The whole city glows bronze in the light of day as far as the eye can see, and at night flame spurts and gaslight bring the city to life. This is a time to reflect on her desires on what she wants to be and what she is capable of. The decision is made and she decides that she is right and if she turned out to be wrong then she will be dead. In her mind, details are poured over all she has studied, all the calculations, all the equipment and all her sanity. The girl tightens the oversized boots and belt of her baggy shorts and straps a too large of a bag to her back. Large green goggles are brought down from the leather cap and with one deep breath, she jumps into the void of air three hundred metres off the ground.

She lands it, a three metre drop onto the passing freight car travelling along the suspension cable, the thick wheels gripping the cable tight as it powered along. This is the first jump of several, as multiple cables and freight cars line up at the supposedly right sequence. Enabling her to get to the top of the guarded residence of the Champion of Technolus. It was time to put all doubt out of her mind as she began to calculate the timing of her observations for the past two months. Easy to do when watching the freight cars from up above, not so easy when you can’t see what you are jumping to until after you have jumped. It is time as she starts saying her words ‘Dog and cat sat on a mat.’ She jumps and lands, ‘Peach and squeak give them a tweak but never let them speak.’ A rolled landing and she stands, ‘It doesn’t rhyme but I have to say whose stupid idea is this anyhow blah, blah jump.’ Her eyes are wide until she felt metal under her feet. ‘Splat, splat, if you don’t jump left or was it right. No, it’s definitely left?’ Her shoulder hits hard on the landing. ‘The last to jump hit the pool or land with a bump. If you are right, you will succeed if not I’m going to bleed.’

The water was cold, her body shivered once a lung full of liquid was coughed up. The Gutter Kid looked over to the starting point and stood with the biggest smile her pointy teeth had ever seen. The plan had worked, now she had to dry and proceeded to strip. One hour and twenty-three minutes or so to dry and sun the clothes. The light auburn fur clung wet to her skin as the clothes were laid flat to the sun. The Gutter Kid's tail was glad to be freed from the shorts that bound it so awkwardly. But that’s the price for disguise, from a distance she looked like any other dirty kid, and up close, maybe a little hairy. Of course, no one looks close at a Gutter Kid, those who live off the waste of others. 'Little dirty brats.' were often yelled at her and her friends, of course, if she still had friends, ‘Damn bitch God Sadarsa, offering rewards for the furred.’ Now her former friends saw her as money, at least she was not blessed with four breasts, or it would be a death sentence that paid four times more. Of course the changes were starting to happen, the pattern was emerging, white stripes and dots on the belly. Soon the tail will quiver and all will know she is not a kid anymore. Then she will be plucked and put into whore houses to be an oddity for pleasure seeking perverts. The thought sent a shudder, she was resolved to escape and now part four of the plan was now complete.

An hour and twenty-one minutes had past as she thought over the details. ‘Part one, to fix Basher. Part two, learn how to fix Basher. Part three learn how to be a thief, so to acquire texts and equipment on how to learn to fix Basher. Part four, make life choice or die. Part five, antagonise the Champion of Technolus to kill me.’ The furred girl stretched in the sun and felt her tail quiver for the first time. With two hands, she grabbed it and held it still in panic. ‘No, no, no. Be still tail not now. Quiver all you want, when we are free. But not now, please not now. It was that stupid book that’s the fault telling me all about me and this tail and the quiver. No, no, no be still.’ After rolling around and biting her tail it quivered no more, the bushy white fur tip dripped with saliva as she put on the baggy shorts.

Two men lay flat upon a balcony, one holding a sight glass. ‘Great, now she is playing with her tail, damn furred, they’re all unstable as shit. But still the girl can jump.’ The other man huffed, ‘if I knew she would have got naked. Dam it, we should have chosen a better vantage point.’ With the sight glass put aside, the first one spoke, ‘Look around numb skull there is no better vantage point. Focus will you, she is the best chance we’ve got at acquiring the power of a God. She is smart and determined and if we can figure out when she is going to betray us, we will acquire it, much the sooner.’ The two men noticed a presence of a cough and turned in shock to see the Champion of Technolus, with a God forged crossbow aimed at them, ‘Pawns aren’t we all?’ The Champion said with a huff.

The furred girl looked towards an adjacent building, there was only one with the best view of her accomplishment. A smile wide as before reacted to the yellow flash and the rain of body parts cast to the air. The glint of a sight glass was noted, so she instinctively raised the middle finger while sticking out her tongue. Then with that done, she quickly threw a chair through the glass door and walked in. ‘I have at least eleven minutes to make sure he is thoroughly antagonised at me, time to see what a Gutter Kid can do to such finery as this.’ She said to herself as a fine vase dropped to the floor, pushed from a finger.

It had not been a good day for the Champion of Technolus, it had started too early as word was sent of lesser God worshippers causing trouble. Thievery was the most of it, then the following of clues and witnesses. Of course, Gutter Kids were not very good witnesses which had him traversing half the city. But at least he was getting closer to home, as this building looked over his. This is where he would draw the line if the thieves were not present on the observation balcony. Then he would go home and maybe go for a swim, even letting a few women in. He thought about big boobs and little ones as the bronzed cage elevator took him higher. The floor was reached and like all observation balconies, it was decorated with plants and finery. Only to enhance the observation of the gears of Techniqua, to reaffirm the faith. The glowing string of the God forged crossbow held taut by the sliding mechanism. The low hum was its only indication that it was primed.

Feet were seen of laying men and their discussion was easily overheard, the Champion pieced it together that he was being used. Two surprised men quickly got scared, then quicker still got very dead as the yellow energy bolt blasted both into chunks. Jumping yellow sparks could be seen across those pieces that remained on the balcony, mainly feet and a knee or two. The sight glass was picked up to see what they were looking at and to his astonishment, he saw his pool at his Manor. A Gutter Kid gave him the finger and then watched in horror as it threw a chair through his glass door and entered.

The Champion ran for the elevator and slammed it shut, pressing the button multiple times and swearing frequently for speed, he descended with a very foul mood. With a bump the ground floor was reached, reefing the gate open, he ran to the building, across the wide street, dodging wagons and obliterating a horse that got too close, the spray of which coated the pedestrians near by. He cared little for the crowd of eager women outside his door. They were held back by his guards as he raced past them and into his building. Once again he endured an elevator that moved too slowly for his liking. The Champion made vows to kill ten Gutter Kids for everything that was touched in his home, and if anything was broken, he would kill them all. Finally his door was reached and he opened it hard, the sound of broken things skittling across the tiles, infuriated him more. Especially when he saw the Vase of Flaminos smashed, destroyed for ever. The enchanting power of the compliant woman lost as no woman would ever drink from it again. The Rod of Highpallen snapped in two, never to awake the animal of the woman once inserted. ‘Come out and die, you little gutter shit.’ He yelled. The sound of more breaking, made him work the mechanism of the crossbow once again.

The furred girl double checked the equipment and wore the gold meshed gloves. Making sure the thick cables ran freely and un-kinked into the oversized bag upon her back. There she waited making sure the escape route was available, while holding something large and breakable in her hands. ‘The door is pushed open hard, the scattering of the broken pieces, check. He witnesses the shattered things, check. The anger mounts and hateful words are said, check. Then I say my piece, smash and wait for affect.’ She thought and did before saying, ‘In here, you piss weak Champion of Technolus.’ Upon hearing running footsteps, she made ready by holding two arms out front. The Champion was seen and shouting, ‘Die!’ Before firing the God forged crossbow. The yellow bolt glowed brightly through the green goggles and was promptly dissipated through the gold mesh gloves. A smile wider than ever before, loved the astonished look of the Champion, especially when he fired three times more. ‘Pretty piss weak weapon, Mister Champion of Fucknolus.’ She said, bringing forth his screams as he fired over and over again. The heat of the gold mesh was starting to be noticed as she backed out onto the balcony slowly. Eventually he ceased and spoke in an aggressive manner. ‘Your name gutter trash!’

‘I am only disguised as gutter trash and as for my name it’s go stuff yourself, you pompous, arrogant, and overcompensating Technolus dick.’

‘You set this all up!’

‘That I did.’

‘And those two men?’

‘Fools and back stabbers, what of it?’ The Champion fired four more times, two to her head and two at her legs, however, all were intercepted by the gold mesh gloves. He looked perplexed as he drew a dagger from his side and pointed at the filth. It was noticed straight away that it was God forged as it hurt only her ears. With speed she made way to the walled edge of the balcony, while fending off a bolt of yellow fired by one hand. The dagger came closer, ‘I doubt you can survive a stabbing. I can see fear in your eyes now.’ With a laugh the filth said, ‘You can’t see shit.’ The Champion snarled, as the filth stepped backwards into the air, some two hundred and seventy metres above the ground.

The Champion of Technolus ran to the side and indeed could not see shit. He screamed to the air and forced himself to think. ‘She planned this and she planned for her escape. I am on a solid tower. She must be climbing down. She isn’t splattered on the ground, she must be climbing down.’ The Champion ran to the elevator and slammed it shut, and then pressed the button firmly seething with much anger. The ground was reached and he passed the gathering of eager women to look at his building. With the sight glass in hand, he looked at his tower in detail, bars below his walled balcony to hold