Chapter 11: Blood, Bones, and Bullets

Demons, fuck, but the most screwed up thing I've ever gone up against were Banshees during the war before I wound up on Sanctuary just to pull Shepard's ass out of the fire. And what kind of moron calls this deathtrap of a world Sanctuary in the first place? What kind of sand blasted idiot thinks that's a good idea? Nothing on this forsaken dust ball is a sanctuary since there's like a billion kinds of critters that want to eat your face off, or worse. And the worst part of it all, there are actually people there, going about their daily lives with no idea that literally anywhere else would be better. Hell, even that shithole on Pragia where I was 'raised' to be a badass biotic would've been better than 'Sanctuary'.

Fuck my life, I need a damn drink if I'm thinkin' like that. Or a lobotomy. Whatever the case, I will say this much. Sanctuary might be a shithole in the ass end of nowhere, but it's not all bad, provided there isn't a gigantic demonic invasion in the works when you decide to drop by. Or a sudden attack of undead, or khazra, or cultists, shit you know what I mean! Speaking of cults, unlike the one I ran with for a while, these guys actually have real power, too bad they decide to screw with innocent people every which way. Found a cellar full of poor bastards not long after touchdown that had been tortured literally out of their minds just so the cultists that had done it could get whatever information they could. Tried to spare 'em….but they wouldn't have it as they ran at us, literally frothing at the mouth. ….Most terrifyin' thing about all this is that could've just as easily been me, or Miri. Hell, it still could if we aren't on our toes and we wind up with our panties around our ankles. Didn't think I'd ever be this worried again after we kicked those tentacle faced sons of bitches back into the void… but it turns out I was wrong.

Shows how much I fucking know. Well, whatever ends up happening from here, I'm gonna enjoy ripping Magdha's spine out her ass before I beat her to death with it. Then I'm gonna rip Belial's balls off, assuming he even has any, and shove them down his throat right along with a Singularity so his insides become a blenderized pulp. And Azmodan? I'm sure I can think of something for that spider legged freak of nature. Just give me time.

End of Audio Log from Jack, formerly Subject Zero.

The clang of a metallic hammer striking steel was interposed with the blacksmith's current….well customer wasn't the right word since the young woman wasn't actually buying anything, acquaintance was probably the better term as he listened to the request she had regarding Leoric's crown. Raising one dark brown bushy eyebrow, Haedrig rubbed a greasy forearm across his forehead, a distant, thoughtful frown on his face. "You realize lass, that yer askin' me to dredge up old wounds by askin' for the Black King's crown?"

"I don't know your family history, Haedrig, I just know what I was told by old man Cain, that somehow, the crown's the only way to make it possible to put down Leoric if he has indeed crawled out of his tomb with the rest of the undead." Ashley replied, her blunt, no nonsense response earning a little flicker of a smile from Haedrig despite the lingering discomfort in his gaze.

Setting his hammer down, partially so the sword he'd been forging had a chance to cool, partially because he needed a break anyway, the man sighed as he spread his hands over the surface of the anvil he'd been working. "My grandfather, the chancellor to the king when Leoric was still alive, was a good man, but he was bound by honor to stay by the Mad King's side even as he became more insane by the day. While the Chancellor escaped when the people overran the King's home, my father didn't. I do not blame the people for what they did, even when they slit my father's throat as I was thrown out a window by one of our friends, Justus, another good man what lost his life before it was over. No, I don't blame them, who had been driven to such lengths by Diablo's mere presence, which was made far worse by the mad king's actions, but wouldn't it be better to leave it alone? You know not how truly terrible the King has become now that he has become fully bound to the forces of Hell."

"Let us worry about how dangerous it is. Besides, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, Haedrig." Ashley stated evenly as she slowly approached the forge and the haunted man behind it. "We all have our ghosts. Am I right in assuming your family's reputation took a hit during that point in time?"

Haedrig was momentarily taken aback by Ashley's astute observation. Dumbfounded for several seconds, he at first couldn't muster up anything to say, but he recovered soon after, blinking his eyes in rapid succession before he said, "Aye it did, despite my grandfather and father's efforts both to try and dispel the vicious rumors that spread about us."

"Then help us, and maybe help yourself in the process. Not for their opinion, since theirs doesn't matter. Take it from someone that knows what it's like to try and live with a choice made by an ancestor. Since we're talking about family history though, my grandfather made a choice that's haunted my family for decades."

That got Haedrig's attention as he looked up and saw the ghosts and old pains in Ashley's eyes. While he didn't doubt for a moment their stories were vastly different, something in the woman's gaze said they weren't so dissimilar despite this. "Do ya mind if I ask what happened, lass?"

"Call me lass again and I might." Ash shot back as a little grin appeared on her face, her words eliciting a bark of a laugh from the blacksmith as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Long story short, he surrendered a...city to Garrus's people around the time our two races had first ran into each other. As the first person to give up ground to someone not even human, you can bet my grandfather's superiors had a field day in ruining him, a black mark that's stuck on the Williams' record for as long as I was alive."

"My apologies Miss Williams. With how well you two get along, I can guess your people and his are allies now?" Ash nodded, which Haedrig returned before a thoughtful frown appeared on his face, "I might not understand where you all came from, but I do get what you're tryin' to tell me. So I have to ask, how'd you get past it?"

"That's easy, someone pulled my head out of my ass before I could kill myself, seeking approval I wasn't ever going to get. I stopped fighting to redeem my family name, and got my priorities right while making sure I was happy for a damn change."

"Hah, that easy eh?" Haedrig asked, and while he smiled widely, the thoughtful gleam to his eyes said he was taking her words to heart as best he could. After a comfortable silence fell between them, Haedrig picked up his hammer and held it before him, his gaze distant but less haunted than it'd been before. "Diablo's taken much from me, my family, friends, good people I saw turn into monsters or were driven to madness. Perhaps yer right lass, instead of focusin' on what he took, what the people thought, I should be concerned 'bout what I yet have. My wife's alive and well, people have come to save us all, and I still have my skill behind the forge." Putting the sword he'd been working on alongside several others on a wooden stand nearby his workshop, Haedrig set to work in preparing a fresh lump of ore for the forge, preparing to melt it down and pour the raw material into a mold for a greatsword. "The king's crown can be found in the crypts in the Weeping Hollow northeast of New Tristram. Look for my grandfather's crypt, it'll likely be in his since he's the one what took it to protect the people from the newly risen Skeleton King."

"He hid it away so they wouldn't get themselves killed?"

"Aye, reckon that was the plan at the time, but he ended up dyin' down there. Wouldn't surprise me none if his ghost was still tryin' to guard it to this day since folk what die badly have a tendency to stick 'round."

"Thanks for your help Haedrig." Ash said and turned away, her hand going for the omni-tool to spread the word to the rest of the team, only to pause when Vega's voice cut through their secure channel. "What?! What do you mean Gemma's ran off?!" Ash heard herself saying as she ignored the blacksmith's gaze on her back. "Ma'am, permission to shoot her so she can't pull this shit again?"

"You'll have to get in line Chief. I'm getting a group together, but did you find where Leoric's crown is yet?" The sound of hurried footsteps in the background was all Ash needed to hear to know Jess was already on the move.

"Yeah, Haedrig said it'd likely be with his grandfather, Chancellor Eamon. His crypt's northeast of town."

"Which means Gemma's likely heading that way herself, but do we know which one?"

Ash turned to Haedrig, who could only shrug in response as he returned to his work. "No, but there can't be that many. If I were to guess, it's likely been trashed by looters trying to get their hands on it during the fall of Old Tristram."

"Got it. Stay in town with James, keep getting the militia up to fighting form. And keep an eye on Moira." Shepard's concern for the wizard was surprising as Ash stopped mid step, puzzled by the order.

"What why? She looks a little pale still but she's probably still exhausted. You think it's something else ma'am?"

"I don't know, and with the intel Liara's sent, that worries me." Ash couldn't argue with that as a cold wave of fear shot down her spine.

The Weeping Hollow

"You'll have to explain how your strange communication magic works once we're done tracking down your hunter friend." Gregory said as he, his skeletal rat that still chittered and squeaked from his shoulder, and several of their respective companions followed a silently fuming Shepard down a wooden bridge that led to a forested area with scattered homesteads beneath its boughs, where the royal crypts were supposed to be located. As much as she wanted to use the waypoint thing Deckard had shown her, she'd found out that the rest hadn't been activated in some time, and she didn't know how to actually use them anyway.

Giving the necromancer a sidelong glance as she led the point of their diamond formation, with Garrus and Tali bringing up her flanks, while Gregory and Lucifer brought up the rear, Shepard chose not to say a word. The dark wisps and motes of blue light that emanated off of her said plenty, as did the scowl that had etched itself into her face. Her mood was further dampened by the literal rain that fell upon them all in worsening torrents. The dirt road turned muddy in short order, becoming difficult just to walk forward, but Shepard pressed on in silence.

More of the same leafless, skeletal trees spread out on every side before them, but unlike the actual forest that had encroached upon the ruins of Old Tristram and the land around the old Cathedral, the Weeping Hollow was expansive fields and grassy hills, with a mountain pass just ahead within visible range from where they were now. Staring down at the muddy ground, Shepard could see Gemma's just visible bootprints in the soft dirt. "She's got about a ten minute head start, and with how fast she can move, she'll likely keep that lead. We know where she's going though."

"So what's the plan Commander?" Asked an all businesslike Tali, although Shepard suspected that she was asking more for their new companions than herself.

"Easy, we beat her to the crypts if we can. Having said that, if there's any people still alive out here, we should try and get them pointed towards New Tristram. She'll be delayed by any creatures between here and our destination in any event, so we can spare the time to save who we can along the way." Without further delay, Shepard charged forward, her assault rifle up and ready for the time being. The others followed as close on her heels as they could, no easy task as their new companions were about to find out.

Ten minutes into their forced march proved that alone as Shepard fired on the move into another small group of khazra, with Tali and Garrus following her example with equal fervor. By the time Lucifer and Gregory were within range to actually be of any use, the goatmen were all dead. "And suddenly I feel like a fifth wagon wheel." The monk muttered as he stepped through the blood and guts that were now strewn across the ground, astonished by the devastation Shepard and her companions had wrought at such range. It was only when he looked up from the grisly scene on every side, that he noticed that Gregory had stopped in the center of the newly created corpse pile.

Shepard too turned, feeling an itch on the back of her neck, a tingle across her skin, and saw blackish red lines of some mystical energy emanating from where the necromancer stood. Blinking as the energy began to seep into every corpse before glowing along where she assumed their veins resided, Shepard snapped her gun up as the first of the goatmen gave a violent twitch, before their eyes, once a reddish brown in the darkness, began to glow with a pale green spectral flame. More astonishingly, beyond the fact all of them were sporting gruesome bullet holes, if they weren't outright missing pieces of their bodies between Garrus's sniper rounds and Tali's shotgun blasts, each and every single one of them took a knee before Gregory, who calmly walked between them towards Shepard as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Seeing her openly gawking face, matched only by the surprise on Tali and Garrus's faces, the man merely shrugged and said, "The Cycle is fueled by death, and it gives life back in equal measure. I can exert my will upon the recent dead, and bend them to my cause. Come. We have ground to cover."

"What the-"

"They will serve their purpose soon enough, I am sure." Gregory explained simply and shrugged. "Whether to shield us from damage or give us an edge is insubstantial, sooner or later we will have use of their strength." And with that, the dozen or so goatmen followed after the man, his own silent guard force that moved as one with the man that had risen them. Sharing a very off put look with her fellows, Shepard grumbled something along the lines of 'Right….just follow the undead horde instead of shooting them' as she soon caught up with the man.

"You realize that you and I are going to have a very long talk about you raising the dead if they're human right?" She asked once she caught up with him.

"I assumed, but rest assured, I do not raise allies without their express permission first. Besides, as you can see, it is not a true resurrection, not like yours from your own account."

"Then what is this?" She whispered harshly and gestured towards the silent goatmen.

"Nothing but a temporary spell that allows me to spur them into action as you might do with a puppet. Only their bodies remain here, whatever they had resembling a soul has long since past the boundaries of this world." Much to her surprise, he put a hand on her armored shoulder, his face surprisingly without his normally cold, stoic visage she'd already come to associate with him. "I understand your discomfort, Jess Shepard, but they are mere tools, just as your weapon is a tool. Priests and priestesses of Rathma are concerned only with maintaining the Cycle, not in perpetuating the evil that would disrupt it as these foul undead would with their very existence, let alone those that would dare to raise them against the innocent. Such adversaries are hated among my order, thus the demons are most often at odds with Rathma's followers."

"Alright, just so we understand where the other's coming from, but we should still compare notes about what constitutes an actual 'tool'." She muttered, still more than a little unnerved by the fact they now had an army of undead on their side.

Gregory, for his part, nodded, his comforting demeanor never faltering as he softly stated, "Our opinions will likely differ on that point, Jess Shepard, but if it's any consolation, I could potentially forge a golem of flesh and bone and blood instead if it would lessen the blow to your delicate sensibilities."

"It wouldn't."

"A pity, since I was planning to do so anyway." The necromancer mused with a shrug. "Surely you have no objections to me doing my best in helping the beleaguered population of this city with my own methods."

"Yeah… but we don't raise the dead or anything." Garrus pointed out with a shudder, a little green in the face. At least he was doing his best impression of being green in the scales along his mandibled face, his eyes flicking between the dead beasts he'd helped put down not five minutes ago.

"True, you merely mutilate the living with your weapons, that's so much better."

"Damn… he's got a point." The turian muttered quietly to himself and huffed at the necromancer. "Fine, just don't expect me to cuddle with your pets."

"Hah!" Gregory cackled unexpectedly, genuine surprise flashing across his pale face. "In that at least, we can agree. While I have no qualms about raising the dead of our enemies, I too would not wish to 'cuddle' with them."

"I must ask, but how do you even know how to do this?" Tali asked as she nudged one of the risen goatmen with her shotgun as they continued forward once more.

"All priests of Rathma must learn how the body functions, how it is created, how it ages, grows, and eventually perishes. While we might not have the same understanding of how everything goes together that you likely do, one must have an in-depth knowledge of both life and death to even have a chance at our magical craft." His matter of fact way of talking about it was somehow more off putting than the actual dead beasts that followed Gregory.

"T-that's good to know." Tali muttered as she continued to warily eye their latest companions. "Though no offense, it reminds me of a rather unpleasant time… so if you could keep it to a minimum?"

For just a moment, Shepard was sure that Gregory was about to refuse her request, but that was before he took a long, probing look into the quarian's purple visor, to the piercing silver eyes that were just visible. As before, Tali this time got the impression she was being seen through, to her very core, but just as quickly the feeling passed, and Gregory merely nodded his head. "My apologies for any discomfort I've brought you Lady Tali'Zorah vas Rayya, vas Normandy, and finally vas Rannoch. I shall endeavour to restrain myself… it seems you're not as unlike from the people of Sanctuary as I first assumed. Though it was not the Burning Hells that turned the deceased against you. That work belongs to another I feel."

"How do you-...nevermind, just...thank you for taking our feelings into consideration if nothing else. But...if it helps, I'm not against you using your power to help protect this world-"

"You only wish it were not necessary in the first place." Gregory finished for her, earning a strange glance from Garrus when he walked past, a hand gently brushing over the quarian's shoulder on his way past, "if for no other reason than you've endured great strife before now at the hands of those who turned your own dead against you."

"Not necessarily quarian dead, but yes." Tali informed the man. "It's...a long story."

"Not to worry, Nihlus will likely inform me of it as our journey progresses."

"Nihlus?" Garrus gaped, only for Shepard to sigh as a thunderous boom followed, and the ghost in question appeared on the sniper's right. "...Huh."

"Indeed, ironically enough he holds the title of Spectre… how very fitting." Gregory mused as he looked towards the two turians, one alive, the other long since dead. "He certainly likes to act the part."

"Despite what he'd have you believe, Gregory's not so different from your illustrious Commander. I've followed the man long enough to know there is a heart underneath his otherwise cold exterior." Nihlus informed the lot of them, only to notice that Tali was openly gaping at the sight of the former Spectre, killed years ago, while Garrus was busy waving the barrel of his sniper rifle through the ghost's spectral center. "Yes, I'm really here, and would you kindly stop that Vakarian? It's….disconcerting."

"Well it's utterly bizarre for me." Garrus rumbled in response as he moved his barrel aside. "Then again, this whole planet's been utterly bizarre from the word go. What's ghosts of long dead Spectres by comparison to those munchers we've been killing since we got off the shuttle?"

"Indeed, but to get back on task." With the same skill he'd once possessed while alive, Nihlus pulled a similarly glowing green hand gun from his side holster, raised his hand, and fired all in one fluid motion just as an oversized, green skinned, leathery bat dripping with acidic drool of some sort was blown apart by the spectral bolt that slammed into it. "It seems we're back on the clock. Commander, this is your op, just as it was back on Eden Prime."

"Right. Let's move it people!"

"He can do that?" Tali whispered, stunned even as she followed in her friends footsteps, occasionally looking at the bat that had just been killed by the dead Spectre.

"A spectral Spectre is formidable indeed." Gregory quipped, earning an amused chortle from Lucifer as the monk charged ahead while the rest of the group rolled their eyes at the bad pun. Cresting a hill, with a house just beyond it, a shout from the monk erased any cheer that had started to form as the sound of fighting soon followed. Without a word needing to be said to the dozen or so goatmen that he'd risen, the beastly 'men' charged ahead, with the necromancer forming a spear of bone just as his gaze fell on yet more, still living, khazra about to break down the door of the home in question. The terrified screams of the family within were soon joined by the dying screams of the monsters that had dared to try and attack them.

It wasn't a fight, it was a slaughter as the monk, followed very closely by the risen goatmen, tore into the goatmen's front ranks, while Shepard and her fire team brought up the flanks, closing the jaws of their moving pincher like formation around the monstrous group. The last had barely fallen to the ground of the living room, painting the wooden floorboards with its black blood, before Shepard planted a boot on its back and fired two more rounds into the back of its head. "Get to New Tristram!" She shouted without giving them a second look.

"Thank you stranges!" The family of five scrambled over themselves, while giving Gregory and his 'guards' a wide berth, to get out of their home before more trouble came to call on them.

Kicking the back door open just as more of them approached, the first of the goatmen on the other side were thrown back from the incredible strength the Spectre brought to bear. That was promptly followed by most of the frame and its surrounding wall being blown outward as a biotic freight train of energy washed over them, leaving bloody smears where before, the khazra's front ranks had once stood. The pieces of shrapnel that rained down on the surviving goatmen ensued greater panic and discord, which made them much easier to deal with them. The disappearance of the house's wall allowed the rest of the team to swarm over the still reeling creatures, leaving nothing in their wake left alive.

"Still as efficiently destructive as ever Commander." Nihlus said, a turian equivalent of a grin on his ghostly face as he lowered his still smoking 'gun' back to its holster on his hip. "Shock and awe tactics were always your preferred method."

"As long as it gets the job done." Despite the sheer weirdness of speaking with her predecessor like this, the initial discomfort and strangeness had worn off by now as she gave Nihlus a sidelong grin of her own. While it didn't reach her eyes, her earlier mood had at least improved.

"That certainly explains a lot." Gregory mused to himself, yet audible enough for all to hear him. "Though your fondness for destruction aside, do you have any idea why the hunter suddenly chose to leave on her own? I have heard that they prefer to hunt alone or with others of their kind, but to suddenly abandon you after you have reached an accord strikes me as odd."

"We can ask her when we catch up with her, preferably after I cold cock her." Shepard rumbled, even as she silently pondered that same question.

The Royal Crypts

Gemma turned her head towards the southwest when the sound of gunfire reached her ears. "They're faster on my trail than I had anticipated they'd be." She mused to herself as she entered the grand cemetery, dedicated to the nobility and their loyal soldiers that had all perished during the Mad King's dark reign. She had little time, not if she wanted to get the crown first, not if she wanted to end Leoric once and for all before they could get themselves killed in an ultimately foolish errand given their glaring inexperience when dealing with the forces she knew all too well.

More gunfire earned a click of her tongue in annoyance. Their weapons were loud, perhaps even crude in a way, but she'd seen how effective they were. Still, they did little but make her life harder, the sounds of combat waking the slumbering dead and the horrors that had crept into the crypts long ago. Diablo's reign was still keenly felt within those catacombs, his servants, long since gone from the land of the living, yet served in death due to the very nature of his corruptive influence. As such, she went to work, walking forward with every bolt she fired as tomb guardians and spectral wraiths rose up to meet her from the still standing headstones on every side. Some wraiths looked like they had in life, others had emulated their bodies decay, and were little more than spectral rotten flesh that clung to bones long dead. Other, more physical enemies, wore far heavier armor than those undead they had encountered so far. And the fighting skills they had had in life still stayed with them, while some exhibited strange powers that attempted to slow her down or outright freeze her in place.

But whatever their skill or power or even their state of being, all of them fell before her undisputable might.

"Come on! You cannot stand against me!" She shouted, ducking under a crackling blade held by a fully armored undead knight, the emblem on its breastplate declaring him a former follower of the Zakarum faith.

How many, she wondered, had come to this place, hoping to cleanse the corruption only to fail, and fall prey to its ever present tendrils that permeated the soil, like a poison would seep into even the tiniest of cracks? It did not matter, the only thing that did was not one more would fall prey to it, not if she had anything to say about it. The strangers had noble intentions at heart, but she knew from experience that that was not enough. They too would stumble and fail, like so many others before them, as the horrors they could not even conceive claimed both body and soul.

Once she had laid a false trail to the other crypts that she'd spotted, breaking down the remnants of the doors that yet stood despite looters and defilers having already been here, she descended into the last of the crypts, her senses going haywire as she felt the evil around her. With every step she took she came closer to damnation as the mortal realm seemed to fade and the reign of the lord of Terror grew stronger. The men who had been buried here had all but given themselves up to a single damned soul, their king, even as they failed to realize that their king was no more, a shadow of what he'd once been before Diablo and Lazarus had destroyed his mind.

With the crack of shattering stone, one of the murals broke apart, to reveal armed skeletons, their eye sockets alight with malice, marching towards her. It was not the first time she had fought such, and it would not be the last. Soldiers they might have been in life, but she had fought their kind before, and death had done them little favours as time gnawed at bleak bones as they lurked, waiting for unsuspecting prey to show itself. She was neither prey nor unsuspecting, as such they fell all to quickly before her. As the last of the tomb guardians fell, a bolt of sizzling arcane energy flying into the ceiling as it fell to her withering fire, Gemma had only started to step forward, when the ceiling unexpectedly cracked. Instinct alone saved her as something erupted forth, slamming down with thunderous force that left the stone beneath it cracked and broken beneath its incredible weight.

"Gods preserve me." Gemma breathed as an Unburied, a monstrous entity with stone melded to its flesh, spike like tree trunk sized arms at its sides, towered over her in the confines of the narrow stone corridor. To make it worse, the floor beneath their feet began to buckle and crack, forcing the hunter to scramble backwards, but a solid overhead smash from the Unburied's right spike covered 'hand' ensured she didn't get far before the ground buckled beneath them both. While the creature fell to its back, largely unharmed, Gemma wasn't so fortunate as something in her side cracked when she hit the ground, and her arm on that side became limp and useless.

She could deal with the pain, her training had been worse, but she couldn't undo the damage that prevented her from using her arm. So as she slowly got to her feet, her thoughts raced. First she would need to gain some distance, preferably lure it into a larger chamber if at all possible. In the open it would lose the advantage the narrow corridors offered and she could attack from afar. She backed away as it struggled to regain its feet. The rubble beneath her was treacherous, causing her to almost fall once more.

The creature was standing upright now, glaring at her with inhuman hatred, the hatred it held for all things living as it attacked. She jumped back, a summersault already in progress, but with speed that should have been impossible for something of its bulk, its 'hand' grabbed onto her leg. She roared her defiance despite the fact its grip was as strong as its stone was unyielding, but for a moment it simply gazed at her dangling form. Then it began to swing, and she crashed against a wall, the ceiling, the rubble, she lost track as she was smashed again and again, and again. She could feel bones bending out of shape, snapping beneath the strain, her ribs cracking, her legs, her arms… nothing was spared and she was certain that she felt her own skull crack beneath the force of the impacts.

And just as quickly it ended, not that she was in a position to notice as she laid sprawled out on the ground as the creature….stumbled? Her vision swam, became distorted as she laid on the ground, helpless, defenseless, confused. Coughing up a gout of blood, Gemma blinked as her vision swam, and cleared momentarily as something in dark armor slammed into the creature's front like a blue blur. "-edical evac now! Gemma's in bad shape!" Ducking effortlessly under the thing's lumbering swing, the armored figure retaliated with brutal efficiency, its fists glowing with the same blue light as thunderous impacts soon followed, chipping away substantial chunks of the Unburied's hide with every assault.

Beams of blue light rained down from above from somewhere behind her, but she couldn't see much of anything now as her mind slowly succumbed to the pain of her injuries. "Saria…" Gemma wheezed, as she swore that she could see her younger sister once more standing over her. Not like she had been in the moment of her death, but for the first time in many years she saw her beloved sister whole, without even a trace of what had happened to the two of them. "Saria…" She murmued once more, hand stretching out, desperate to reach her, her grasp fell short as she was plunged into darkness and despair.

The Royal Crypts

Five minutes earlier.

"Split up, we need to find her fast." Shepard commanded as they came upon the site of Gemma's last fight. Garrus, without needing to be told, stuck to her right side, while Tali went with Lucifer. Gregory, with his small army of undead goatmen, went alone with a short if respectful bow to the others as he went to the third of the crypts.

Taking the northernmost of the lot, walking over the shattered bones of the skeleton warriors that had met a second end at the point of the hunter's crossbows, Shepard walked forward, her gun's light cutting through the darkness that stretched ahead of her. "See anything?" She asked Garrus through their comms, keeping as silent as she could as they proceeded down a long flight of stone and dirt encrusted stairs.

"Mostly rats, spiders, nothing 'alive' though Commander." Garrus replied, just as quietly as he scanned the area with the visor that was a literal part of his face. "Gemma's been thorough, but that shouldn't be a surprise by this point."

"Well, if nothing else, I think I have an idea of why she ran off if what you said earlier's anything to go on, scarface."

"That girl she saved reminding her of her sister, and herself when she was next to helpless herself?"

"More or less." Shepard replied, only to hold up a hand when she heard an ominous rumble ahead. Dispensing with caution, she darted ahead, silent as the ghosts that walked besides Gregory, only to hold out an arm to stop Garrus from pitching into the hole that stretched before them. "Gemma!" She shouted, before she jumped forward, her body glowing a dark, dark blue as she Charged. The crack and resounding boom that followed as she came out of her attack was deafening, but Shepard hardly noticed as the creature of dirt, bone, and stone dropped a bloodied and battered Gemma.

The focus of the creature now lay solely on Shepard, its previous victim forgotten and not without reason. Gemma's limbs were bent in all the wrong angles, she was no longer a threat, she was little more than a corpse at this point. And just as quickly, its limited focus shifted completely to the newcomer before it as her armored fists slammed into its hide with the strength of warhammers, cracking it with every resounding blow. Swinging an arm, she nimbly spun and ducked, countering with ruthless efficiency as she went for the joint, rather than the meat of its limb. The Unburied growled incoherently, sounding like giant stones grinding against each other as it arm quickly snapped at the 'elbow', where it fell, returning to a pile of useless rock, dirt, and human bones. To its limited shock however, the same blue glow that encompassed this new warrior, enveloped its still half formed arm, and it was lifted off the ground, where the warrior promptly used it to batter its own face in. "Medical evac now! Gemma is in bad shape!" Shepard shouted loudly as she ducked under yet another clumsy if dangerously powerful attack.

Reeling back from the thunderous blows that rained down upon it, it only realized after the third smack to its stony 'face' that the warrior on the stone ledge had been firing upon its form with some strange, yet powerful weapon, chipping away yet more of its hide with every blue blur that was no bigger than a grain of sand. Stomping down, the shockwave that came from its heavy footfalls hardly slowed the warrior as it tried to bring its remaining arm down on her, only to cleanly miss as its own severed arm was brought to bear against the back of its own head, about the same time she shot forward once more. Caught between a literal rock and a hard place, the Unburied's 'head' exploded from the Charge and the accelerated 'projectile' that had once been its own stony fist. The force of Shepard's Charge was the far more devastating though as the creature fell backwards, blown back off its feet that when it hit the other side of the hole, it shattered to its base components.

Having dislocated her own shoulder from her last Charge, Shepard gritted her teeth as she knelt beside the hunter. "Hold on Gemma. We're not letting you die down here. Cortez, better let...Chakwas know...she's going to have two patients."

"On it Commander." Steve promised, just before Shepard too collapsed against the far wall of the crypt's newly created hole.

"Tali...meet up with Gregory...make sure you two find that crown before you leave." Despite how drained she was, Shepard's order still rang out loud and clear to the rest of the team.

"It'll be done Commander. Just get Gemma out of this."

"We will Tali." Garrus firmly stated as he went to work in trying to stabilize and patch up Gemma's injuries as best he could, catching an offered vial of a reddish liquid that he promptly loaded up into an injector before turning to a still, barely, breathing Gemma. "You don't get to die on us, not today."

Evac shuttle

Ten Minutes later

"Alright, I need medigel here!" Chakwas shouted at all those close enough to hear, uncaring who would deliver it as long as she got it. "Cortez, get ready to return to the Normandy. I can't treat her here. She's got internal bleeding, multiple fractures in multiple bones, one lung has collapsed… I need the full trauma kit, prepare the medbay for surgery!"

"Proceeding to the infirmary now, Doctor Chakwas." EDI's voice cut through the din over the shuttle's comms as Cortez punched the accelerator, having barely had time to touch down before returning to orbit just as fast.

"Good." The doctor muttered absentmindedly as she connected the unconscious hunter to a respirator. Her oxygen level was dangerously low, and she had lost a lot of blood. Bringing up her omnitool, she used some of the blood spilt to run a test, merely a rough genetic comparison between what she had come to call 'Earth Humans' and those found on Sanctuary. Given the sheer processing power of her omni-tool, it didn't take long for her to receive the results. She wasn't all that surprised when she saw it was utterly alien in comparison. Unknown blood types, gene sequences, antibodies, the list went on.

"EDI, I'm sending you a blood sample, Gemma's. I need you to replicate a feasible replacement ASAP. I don't care how you do it, I need it in fifteen minutes tops." Chakwas ordered as she did what she could to keep her latest patient amongst the living.

"I'll do my best Doctor. It'll be ready by the time you arrive." EDI promised as the shuttle rocked and shook as they exited Sanctuary's atmosphere. Just as quickly, the shaking stopped, and Lucifer, who'd ran out to make sure the way to the shuttle was clear, was struck into utter silence as he saw the vast expanse of space, strewn with thousands upon thousands of stars.

"By the gods of my order….this is your world?" He asked, only to receive a none too gentle slap to the back of his head from Shepard. "R-right, sorry."

"Gemma needs all the help she can get right now Luci, and I'm down an arm." Shepard offered in way of apology, but it was enough for the monk to return to aiding Garrus and the good doctor in doing what little they could do for the demon hunter.

"Be careful as you remove her armor." Chakwas stated, having already set to work in doing that very thing even as she treated the woman every step of the way. "I've already tried to cut through it, but even my tools couldn't get through whatever this stuff is made from."

"I have suspicions, but they matter little now." Lucifer said as he gently opened up some clasps and knots that he'd long since spotted. "Though the design is strange to me… I can still recognize what holds it together… though I am hesitant to do so… I fear in some places it is only her armour that keeps her together at all."

"Your concern does you credit but it's hardly necessary. I've already done what I can to make sure that we won't worsen her injuries by removing her armor… provided we do so with the appropriate care." Karin replied as she efficiently went about the business of getting to the formidable woman underneath. She slowed though as she saw the horrible scars that adorned the still and pale body underneath. "By god."

Crudely put, it reminded her of a ragged rug, every square centimeter of her body was marred by demon claw and teeth marks, as well as more than a few old burns that hadn't healed without leaving telltale signs of what she'd gone through. While she continued to work, leaving the lot of her armor in a heap in a forgotten corner, Chakwas' analytical mind catalogued and filed away everything her eyes set upon. Sword slashes and arrow marks from her few battles against far less monstrous adversaries. Signs of previously broken bones and shattered ribs, a dislocated collarbone that hadn't healed quite right. That was saying nothing of the scars that told their own tales.

Scars that ran down her upper arms in an even pattern, made by a small but sharp knife, deep, but not enough to cripple, only hurt and weaken her. Chakwas might've suspected the hunter of self harm if it weren't for the fact that some of these cuts were in places that could hardly be reached without outside help. Training injuries then, or purposeful torture, possibly both if she was feeling particularly grim.

The steel like muscles had been torn and bludgeoned, hematomas had already begun to form all over the body. Though Chakwas suspected that it was not the first time that the hunter had been injured severely enough to tear muscles and break bones. Even the soles of her feet were spoilt by scars, an ugly crisscrossing of cuts, as if she had been forced to walk on glass.

Her throat and neck showed signs of acid damage, leaving their mark into her flesh before Gemma had managed to remove the substance. Small, almost invisible cuts were visible on her face as well, though it was by far the part of her that had been spared the most. Whatever the case, her task remained the same.

The fifteen minutes to the ship was cut down to ten more due to Steve's frantic flying than anything else, and while Lucifer would've gawked openly at the vessel that they quickly settled within its belly, a sharp glare from Shepard and the fact Gemma's life still hung in the balance was enough to keep him focused on the task before him. He was no doctor, but he knew enough about battlefield first aid to still lend his knowledge, following Karin's lead with an efficiency that made Karin glad to have him around despite her utter focus and dedication to keeping Gemma alive.

Pumping the ambu bag that she'd since hooked up to the respirator that fed into Gemma's mouth, Karin continued to shout orders all the way to the elevator the moment the shuttle touched down and the doors had opened, allowing the team to disembark. With Gemma having been placed on a padded gurney, several other crewmembers standing guard over the ship itself helped to carry the woman away, leaving Shepard, Garrus, and him to make their own way up as they took the elevator up. "At least EDI overclocked the damn thing." He heard Shepard muse to herself as it shot up its shaft and out of sight of those left behind.

"Let's just hope she makes it through the night." Garrus said as he gingerly wrapped his talon fingers around Shepard's dislocated shoulder. "Ready?"

"Nope, but get it over-" She didn't get the chance to finish her quip before Garrus forcefully snapped the joint back into place. "Son of a bitch!" She howled and clenched her teeth as she sent a dark glare at her best friend. "You enjoyed that didn't you?"

"No." He told her earnestly and shrugged. "My tastes are far less violent after all. Watching you get dressed down by Chakwas and grounded for the foreseeable future… now that's something I'm going to enjoy."

"You realize we're all under quarantine until the foreseeable future, right scarface?" Shepard asked in turn, giving her battered shoulder a gentle roll before she nodded approvingly as only echoes of discomfort remained.

She took far more enjoyment from the way his grin fell almost immediately upon remembering the plague they'd just left behind. "Oh….right. Damn but I'm never going to get the taste of all those disinfectants out of my mouth am I?"

"Better get used to it Garrus." Patting his back as she led the way to the sterilization showers in the plastic maze Chakwas had had set up for that very purpose, Shepard gave the man a sidelong grin over one shoulder.

"You're entirely too comfortable with all this, aren't you?" Asked a gaping Lucifer as he took in their immediate surroundings as best he could while following the sharpshooter.

"You get used to it after a while Luci." Garrus said as he patted the monk on his back. "That aside, welcome to the great beyond, otherwise known as space."

"The monks back home won't believe I've been beyond Sanctuary's skies when they hear about all this." A now reluctantly grinning Lucifer replied as he crossed his arms over his chest.

New Tristram

Ashley, for her part, could only rub her fingers over her eyes as she tried to make sense of Deckard Cain's writings, having pulled down a book at random from the heavily laden shelves in the man's home after she'd been invited to pay him and Leah a visit. "How do you even read his scrawl Leah?"

Looking up from the tome spread out before her, the young woman chuckled quietly and shrugged, "Practice. I learned how to read when I was eight while we still lived in Caldeum."

"Heh, that couldn't have been easy."

"No… but I loved it despite the dangers I faced along the way. Seeing the world, exploring the unknown, it was something that most people can't even begin to imagine. And while I unknowingly exposed myself to dangers by tricking shambling undead away from my uncle, looking for and disarming ancient traps, and making my way through enclosed, often treacherous tombs, I thought it was all good fun until I got a bit older and wiser. But by then I guess that excitement never really left since it'd become a part of me." Looking over to where the two women knew Deckard was fast asleep, still recovering from his trials beneath the old Cathedral, Leah's smile turned tinged with a bit of sorrow but fondness for the old man. "He raised me, took care of me, and while I didn't believe him about his search for a way to end the threat of the Burning Hells, I'm hoping to make it up to him now."

"You have nothing to apologize for Leah." Ashley's firm if gentle tones got Leah's attention more than the words themselves as she turned hurriedly to regard the tall, slender yet powerfully built woman that was now leaning over her right shoulder, the book she'd been looking through tucked carefully under her right arm. "I'm sure Shepard's given you the spiel by now, but disbelief isn't a crime, it's merely human. Hell, I didn't believe in all this demon business until I saw them for myself, and while I still want to deny it, I can't turn a blind eye to what's going on around me."

"So what changed your mind Ash?"

"Seeing what those fuckers are capable of at the Cathedral for one. But...I think it was the sheer pain, rage, and sorrow in Gemma's eyes that really did it for me."

"She… I can see what you mean." Leah agreed haltingly but looked to the side, as if uncomfortable. "But… I find her presence… disconcerting nonetheless."

"Yeah… I can get that." Ashley said after a pause and leaned back in her chair. "I guess it's just the part of us that recognizes that, that could be us… that makes us uneasy."

"Yeah… I guess." Leah said slowly, her expression conflicted as she turned back to the books in front of her. "Though I suppose I should be grateful that I even have the chance to worry about such things… these past several days have been anything but easy."

"What would you do if this whole situation wasn't in your way?" Ash asked suddenly, giving Leah pause as she stopped, mid turn of the page she'd just been on.

Gently putting it down, she stared at the ceiling for a moment, lost in thought since few people had ever asked her. "I...you'll probably think it silly."

"I doubt that kid." Ashley was quick to assure her with a snort. "Hell, you'd probably be the one to laugh if you heard what I had planned to do after the war."

"Somehow I don't see myself doing that."

"Oh yeah? Well imagine me deciding to hang up my weapons so I could become a housewife… that's what I seriously considered doing. Thankfully James knew me better and told me to take a nice long vacation first… after a week of doing nothing I went almost insane. So yeah, you can imagine how well that worked out."

Despite herself, Leah couldn't help but giggle, which had Ashley chuckling in turn. Before long, they were doing their best not to laugh outright as they bent over their chairs, hands clutching at their bellies. "I'm sorry." She snickered, which destroyed any doubt that she was anything but sorry. "I shouldn't laugh at you Ash."

"Bah don't worry about it Leah." Ashley said with a wave of her hand once she'd calmed down. "Laughter's good for the soul."

"That much we agree on." Leah agreed as she smiled more openly now towards the marine. "To answer your question, I'd actually like to open an inn. Nothing fancy, something a bit cleaner than the Slaughtered Calf most likely, but it'd be mine, somewhere I could feel content and satisfied once my adventuring days are done."

"Hold onto that dream Leah. You might get to see it become a reality before you know it."

The young woman rewarded her with a smile for her efforts and shrugged helplessly. "Just have to find out where to put it, but you'll be welcome there any time, Ashley."

"I'll remember you said that when me and James eats you out of house and home." Ash countered, earning another light, cleansing laugh from Leah for her trouble.

"Do you have children?"

"Yep."

"How many?"

"Twins, why?" Ash asked, suddenly very suspicious.

"Oh I was just thinking I could take care of them if you ever visited."

"Oh no, I'm not making that mistake. No offense to you, but while I like you Leah, I doubt you'd survive my kids. I don't know how they do it, but they just keep on running, shouting, arguing, playing and talking, it never stops."

"You don't know how stubborn I can be." Leah countered, grinning at the challenge that Ashley had presented to her.

"Heh, no wonder you and Shepard get along so well kid. I'll keep it in mind, but there's no way I'd bring them to Sanctuary."

"I can't blame you for saying that, especially now." Before she could sink back into her dour mood, a gentle nudge from Ashley had Leah perking up when she met the older woman's gaze.

"We're going to stop Diablo and whoever else gets in our way Leah. Marines don't leave a job unfinished if we can help it, and Shepard's the best I've ever seen. We'll save Sanctuary, or die trying."

"It's the 'die trying' part I'm worried about since death isn't the worst thing that can happen here."

"Then we'll deal with that too if it comes to it." The calm yet steely conviction in Ashley's voice left little room for argument from Leah. The soft rustle of cloth had her turning to Deckard's room, where the old man stood, a tired but still visible smile on his wrinkle covered face as he shambled his way towards them. "Did we wake you up with our cackling earlier?"

"You did, but it is fine Miss Williams. I am simply glad you and Leah are getting along so well." He said, chuckling gently as Leah returned to the book spread out before her. "Hard at work? I can't remember the last time I've seen her so focused on the old tales of my order."

"It helps we've seen Hell's minions firsthand, Uncle." Leah said as she turned to a new page.

Deckard's smile fell at that and the merriment left his eyes. "Yes… I had hoped to spare you from such things… to prevent them all together. I.. I apologize for failing you, Leah." Before he could begin to say anything else, Leah jumped to her feet and nearly bowled the man over, her arms wrapping around his body in a tight, warm and encompassing embrace. "Wha-...Leah?" He coughed, confused by this outburst of emotion from her.

Knowing when to beat a 'tactical retreat', Ashley left the two of them, taking the book she'd been reading with her to give them time to fully reconnect. Gently shutting the door behind her as she went, the marine had barely taken five steps into the rain soaked streets of New Tristram, when her comms turned on. Seeing it was Shepard's name on the frequency ID on her omni-tool, Ash didn't hesitate to open up the channel and ask, "What's up Commander?"

"We're back on the Normandy, emergency medical evac. Gemma's been hurt pretty bad."

"She going to be alright?" Ash asked, concern lacing every word as she started for Mira's house, where she knew James would likely be now that drills were over for the day.

"The doc's operating now, we should know in a few hours. How's everything on your end?"

"Quiet as the grave at the moment. A few loose khazra attacks, a couple zombies, but nothing beyond some very minor probing maneuvers if I were to give them more intelligence than they actually possess. What happened out there?"

"We ran into the equivalent of a walking tank, one of those Unburied, but this one was worse.. somehow. You wouldn't believe the amount of damage it was able to just swallow up, would have made a Brute envious." Shepard growled lowly. "It must have gotten the drop on Gemma somehow, in close quarters… you can figure out the rest."

She could all too easily, and the fact it'd gotten the better over Gemma of all people was the far more terrifying part of all this. Still, Ash was able to calm herself as she gently opened the door to Mira's warm and welcoming home, beating her armored boots on the plush if simple welcome mat before walking into the house proper. "Keep me posted ma'am. How are the others holding up?"

"Tali and our new friend, Gregory, are still looking for the crown. Lucifer's up here since he knows his way around a scalpel it turns out. He was pretty handy in helping the doc get Gemma stabilized on the way up here."

"Bet that was a shock for the poor bastard, seeing space for the first time. You realize the Council's going to have an aneurysm when they find out we took one of them off world right?"

Shepard's snort on the other end heralded the blunt disregarding remark that soon followed. "You realize I don't give a damn."

"Oh I'm aware ma'am, and I'm right there with you Shepard." Closing the channel, Ash sighed and made her way to the simple kitchen, where she found Mira and Moira sitting at the wooden table, a pot of boiling stew nestled over a cooking fire. "Ma'am, Moira."

"Hello Ash!" Moira coughed, earning a frown from the marine as she took a better look at the young sorceress.

"You alright Moira? You're looking a little pale."

"It is nothing. I am merely tired and drained still." Moira explained, seemingly convinced that was all it was, but Ashley wasn't so sure from how much paler the woman looked to her eyes. The subtle look Mira threw her way told Ash she was thinking the same thing as the blacksmith's wife stood and pulled Ashley aside.

Once she was sure they were out of earshot, only then did Ash ask, "What's really going on Mira? She shouldn't be looking worse. She's had days to recover from our Cathedral run."

"Because you're right." Mira whispered, the color draining from her face as whatever dawning realization threatened to freeze in her throat. "I think she might have started to become corrupted."

End Notes: Nomad-117: Well…I guess a few things happened in this chapter. Like uh… Gemma nearly becoming beaten to death, and splattered across the walls… glad that didn't happen. And hey, she and Luci are on the Normandy now! Might give the councillors an aneurysm, trying to think positive here because you know there are so little things looking up right now… with the whole corruption thing that might or might not happen and kill everyone. Uh… but hey Deckard and Leah are making up… it's something! And Gregory got undead friends to send into the fray, that's gotta count for something… maybe. But look at it this way… we have worse things in mind.

Vergil1989: Don't spoil anything! Yeesh Nomad, you'd think you'd know better by now. :P Seriously though, this chapter had a lot happening in it, some good, some bad, some VERY bad, but we've had a blast so far and we hope you have as well everyone. That aside, Moira is in deep shit, although how that happened we'll reveal soon enough. Having said that, it's safe to assume it was in the Cathedral. As for Haedrig, since Mira didn't die, it was our thinking that he'd be much more willing to listen to reason and talk about things he'd normally not do so right out of the gate. At any rate, as always, feedback's welcome, so long as it's actual constructive criticism and not just being nitpicky or whatever. See ya folks!