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The Arrow and The Orb pt. IV (IC)


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"Nein!" the quiet raspy voice echoed across the parking lot behind the warehouse through the chill October air. "Ze crate und ze box both go over zere." Nacht Kreiger stood on the loading dock, pointing and shouting orders.

Below and around him, a small army of SHADOW troops milled around, loading large crates onto a semi backed up toward the loading dock.

SHADOW's presence in Freedom had been growing recently. Left unchecked with their own devices, this couldn't mean any good for the city or it's inhabitants.

Luckily for the forces of justice, it seemed that SHADOW had been getting sloppy. Their scouts and lookouts had not been too aware this night. Nor had they done a very good job of hiding. Even now, one unfortunate scout lay unconscious atop the warehouse across the street from the lot. A figure clad in gray armor and protective clothing stood over the unconscious criminal, gazing down at the scene below.

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Arrowhawk had chased the criminal up the steps of the old water tower, looming over the man as he shied away, lashing out frantically with a knife. "Johnny," he growled, lashing in hard with his right hook. Johnny's arm was smashed clean through the wooden hand rail, the knife flying out of bruised fingers. "I gave you one chance to go straight, and yet you go back to the Mob..."

His threats were suddenly distracted as something outside a nearby warehouse caught his eye. It looked like a small army of men in grey jumpsuits. Oh no... Suddenly caught between his desire to apprehend this one criminal, and to stop this army of them, he made a compromise.

Barrelling forwards, Arrowhawk barrelled upwards, grabbing Johnny by the collar as his cape billowed out behind him in the shape of a hawk's wings, carrying him across the night to slam into the warehouse they seemed to be loading the truck from. Johnny screamed in sheer terror as they flew, but stopped suddenly when his torso was thudded into the corrugated metal which formed the roof. Standing up straight, Arrowhawk narrowed his eyes and drew his longbow, kicking Johnny's prone form to make sure it was unconscious. Then he addressed the SHADOW troops below.

"You chose a bad night."

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"Damn." Nacht Kreiger swore. "He ez not ze van I vanted. But he'll do to give ze boys zome sport." He then noticed his collective army of SHADOW troops staring dumbly up at the costumed hero. "Vell?" he said, more loudly this time for Arrowhawk to hear, "Vhat are you vaiting for? Get eem!" the living shadow cried, and pointed at the rooftops.

The SHADOW troops immediately dropped what they were doing and surged toward the base of the building, like a dark wave crashing on a rocky beach.

Arrowhawk noticed that about five or six of the troops hung back to guard their leader. But he was more worried about the sixty or seventy minions storming his location.

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Arrowhawk noticed that about five or six of the troops hung back to guard their leader. But he was more worried about the sixty or seventy minions storming his location.

Well, not particularly worried. In the blink of an eye, he'd dropped into an easy firing stance with an arrow nocked, and the one he'd fired as he'd dropped to one knee sending one SHADOW trooper flat on his back with a concussion.

A few seconds later, another six of the troopers had been dropped with concussions, broken ribs and crippling groin shots. Arrowhawk scanned the oncoming mass of troopers, eyes narrowing. Well, that was a drop in the ocean. "You heard the man," he growled. "Get me."

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Like ants, the wave of SHADOW troops poured over the side of the building on which Arrowhawk was perched. The half-dozen he'd struck had fallen a good distance to the ground, luckily taking other with them when the struck the ground.

As he fired arrows, however, he caught a glimpse of Nacht Kreiger making hand motions. While, Arrowhawk was able to decipher that the SHADOW leader was signaling someone near Arrowhawk's own position, his response came only too late. Whirling to see what surprises lay in store on the rooftop for him, Arrowhawk saw... nothing. But took a swift blow to the stomach all the same. The strike was far from the worst he'd taken and barely phased him. The problems came after that, when invisible hands seized him, and threw him from the rooftop. Quick thinking on Arrowhawk's part allowed him to draw his grappling gun. A small swing lessened his impact, But he still struck the ground amidst an army of enemy troops, who encircled him, though did not yet act.

"Ah, I zee, you haff met my more advanced agents, Herr Arrowhawk." Came the judgmental voice of Nacht Kreiger. Two more troops melted out of the ever present shadows of the lot to appear seemingly out of nowhere. "You see, ve haff many tricks, und many sleeves vit vhich to hide zem. It is, how you say, trap." By this time, Arrowhawk was standing. He'd be damned if that wasn't a smile on the living shadow's face. "Unfortunately for you, trap eez sprung by wrong rabbit. Und you ve do not need. So..."

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Elsewhere...

"A friend, and fellow warrior is in trouble, Shield-maiden. He fights a battle he cannot win. Go now, and aid him."

"I hear and obey, Norn."


Meanwhile in the alley...

"...eet eez unfortunate. But I am afraid you must be...dispozed of." Nacht Krieger finished, raising his hand, he prepared to give the order to attack. "Blitz--"

Krak-Thoom

Lightning flashed, and struck the ground near Arrowhawk, forestalling Nacht Kreiger's speech. When the blinding flash cleared, a woman clad in bright blue armor stood where the gods' power had touched the earth. "Nein! Eet eez to zoon--" Kreiger was saying.

"Hark, mortals," Valkyrie cut him short once more. Confidently, she stared into the crowd of criminals. "I am Valkyrie. Servant of Odin. He hath decreed that it is his champion that thou shalt battle tonight. This other is not to be touched!" She turned and motioned towards Arrowhawk, whom she had yet to lay eyes on. Arrowhawk? Oh no!

"Get her!" Cried Nacht Kreiger. The SHADOW surged forward.

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Arrowhawk swiftly holstered his grapple gun and re-quivered his bow. He stood in a boxing stance, and eyed Valkyrie up and down. "Yeah, thanks for the help, but I reckon you're going to need all the help you can get. Besides, if they touch me, I snap their arms." With that, he ran and leapt into the circle of troops around them, snapping one's head to the side with a swift brutal kick, and landing with both feet solidly planted.

Without breaking stride, he snapped his fist around in a solid right hook and laid out another trooper.

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Arrowhawk swiftly holstered his grapple gun and re-quivered his bow. He stood in a boxing stance, and eyed Valkyrie up and down. "Yeah, thanks for the help, but I reckon you're going to need all the help you can get. Besides, if they touch me, I snap their arms."

Hmm...I'm sure you do. Vivian thought, briefly distracted by Arrowhawk's muscles tensing before his leap.

With that, he ran and leapt into the circle of troops around them, snapping one's head to the side with a swift brutal kick, and landing with both feet solidly planted.

Without breaking stride, he snapped his fist around in a solid right hook and laid out another trooper.

Come on, V! Focus! She made herself concentrate on the fight. Tearing herself away from Arrowhawk's warrior instinct which she found so attractive.

Three of the SHADOW troopers near Arrowhawk rushed straight past him, straight towards Valkyrie's back. Three more joined the charge from the other direction in front of her. It was clear they were not here to fight Arrowhawk. The two more advanced troopers faded from view once more.

Valkyrie stood against the deluge of SHADOW like a levy before a storm. When the first of the troopers reached her, she raised the massive hammer in her hand, "Odin's Might!" she called out, and a flash of lightning struck the hammer. It split off in all directions. Miniature bolts of lightning struck every SHADOW trooper within fifty feet, pulverizing most, and leaving others smoldering on the ground, including the two troopers who had become invisible for only a split second.

The crack of thunder that followed was nearly deafening, even to Arrowhawk.

"Thy concern is appreciated, Hero. But a true warrior must hold one's own against their enemies, lest they deserve not their title. Odin has trained no stripling, as you shall soon see." With that, she fixed her left hand back on the haft of the hammer and set herself to receive the next charge.

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Another trooper dressed slightly differently than the others appeared next to Nact Kreiger. His uniform held a vertical red stripe down the right-front of the chest with golden buttons. His mask had a vertical red stripe over his right eye to match the stripe on his vest. Nact Kreiger addressed him quietly, "I leave zis in your capable hands mein Kapitan. Do vatever it takes. Kill the pesky bird if you haff to. But his exelency vants her taken." With a shadowy tendril forming a mockery of a clenched fist, he gazed out over the fight, before his head snapped back towards the commander. "Alive, Kapitan. His excelency vants her alive." Nact Kreiger received a curt nod from the officer and turned to walk toward the warehouse.

Just before he entered the shadows of the building, a large glowing portal opened to receive him. A second later he had passed through it and was gone.

The officer whom had replaced Nact Kreiger raised his hand. Four separate portals opened at the four corners of the parking lot. What looked like frothy black ooze spilled forth from each of them. In reality, it was a tide of SHADOW troops.

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"Well, it never rains but it pours," sighed Arrowhawk, once more drawing his bow, and pivoting on the spot. His bow twanged as he turned slowly and methodically, arrows firing up and down and straight forward. The shots arced into clones, winding them with strikes to the solar plexus, flooring them with groin shots, and in a couple of cases, snapping ankle bones so that they couldn't stand up.

It was still not enough to stem the tide. "I hate clones," muttered the dark clad archer, drawing himself up to keep fighting.

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"Verily!" Valkyrie agreed, with the bowman's sentiment as she swung her hammer and crushed one of the clone's skulls. Wherever her hammer landed, lightning struck, delivering divine justice. "A warrior's fighting style is a reflection of their soul," She supplied, happily collapsing the lungs of a nearby clone. "All clones fight the same. They have no individuality. No soul." She swung the massive bludgeon downward, crushing a kneecap. "Those without souls cannot truly enjoy battle, nor the victory that may come of it. Come, archer. Let us show them the might of a true warrior!" Valkyrie twirled quickly in a circle, loosing the hammer on a crowd of clones that had stumbled to close together. It bowled the lot of them over, lightning striking them all. Not a second later, the hammer arced backward upon its own flightpath, returning to her hands.

And still the army of clones seemed endless.

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"Um..." said Arrowhawk, knocking a clone clean off its feet as it rushed at him, by breaking a kneecap in a single shot. "Verily?" He kicked a clone in the face while he strung one shot, firing it into the clone behind the one he'd just kicked to the floor. "God knows how you can actually enjoy this."

He ducked a couple of clones as they tried to attack his in unison, punching one out and using his bow to scythe out the other's legs from beneath him. Ah, a foot rest. He planted his foremost leg onto the fact of the downed man, using him to brace his aim for the next shot.

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  • 3 weeks later...

"Gods." She shot back, "Plural." Another mighty swing downed another SHADOW agent. "And the reasons are many." She clubbed a clone, "The exercise," another clone, "Blowing off steam," another bone crushing impact, "The weight of the hammer in my hands," Arrowhawk heard tendons snapping after the last impact. Valkyrie's speech was sounding more and more modern as she waded into the fray. "It's fun!" Judging by her continued destructiveness, she greatly enjoyed her job.

Then suddenly, the surging clones fell back. They no longer threw themselves at the two warriors, but waited just out of arms reach. Arrowhawk downed a few more with arrows, and Valkyrie had time to throw her hammer one last time. As her hammer returned, and he knocked another arrow, the two realized something was a miss. Falling back to the center of the pocket of clones, they found each other back to back, prepared for whatever came next.

Then swirling purplish portals opened horizontally about ten feet in the air just in front of the line of clones that formed the circle. Ten figures dropped into a crouch on the pavement. Once they stood, the heros saw that their uniforms were different.

The new arrivals wore red. Their blood colored uniforms were so deep in color they seemed to drip. The two heroes did not have time to study their new opponents, however, because they quickly faded completely from view.

Forming a split second decision in her head, Valkyrie turned to her battle companion. Placing her left hand on his shoulder, and looking at him straight on she spoke, "It is clear that this is not your fight. Nor do you want it to be." He knew she wasn't just expressing an opinion. The fact was, the only clones he'd killed that night hadn't directly attacked him. They'd been trying to pass him to get to her. "It is also clear that this fight will not be won. They outnumber us too greatly." Her expression grim, she ordered him away, "Go then. May the might of the Gods bear you safely on your way. And pray that we may fight again one day."

The large Orb nestled in her chest flashed and glowed a fierce bright blue color. For a second, Arrowhawk fought the blinding light. But he was finally forced to shut his eyes or risk being blinded. He felt a wrenching sensation pull at his gut, and then there was nothing.

As he opened his eyes, a cool breeze blew across his face. Bow in hand, Arrowhawk discovered himself gazing down on the city he'd sworn to protect from somewhere outside it's limits. He stood high upon a nearby hillside far past the West End and the outskirts of the city. He watched, as the sky overtop the Fens clouded darkly, and quickly. A fearsome bolt of lighting lashed out from the sky and struck the ground with the thunderous force of the God's rage. A second later came the near deafening thunderclap. A second after that came the shock wave that nearly knocked him from his feet.

When Arrowhawk next looked up, the sky was clear and blue. No devastation had been visited on the city. For that, he was pleased. There was another feeling, though. A sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach...

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"This isn't right," frowned Arrowhawk, recovering effortlessly from the forced teleportation, although he did have to fight off the nausea. "Why would she just decide it wasn't my call whether to fight or not?" I'm sick of people assuming they're right all the time.

And on that, he put his bow back into his quiver, and leapt up off the hillside, catching a draught and gliding down towards the city, to investigate the crime scene. I need to find out what happened.

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Minutes later, Arrowhawk arrived on the scene he had been forced to depart. His transit had not taken long, and as such, he was surprised to see that much of the scenery present earlier had completely vanished.

Gone were the SHADOW clones. Gone was the truck they had been loading. The supplies were missing too. It was as if everything had been teleported away, just as the clones had been teleported in.

Arrowhawk's powers of observation, and investigation were not to be denied, however. One thing, that even a child's eyes would have noticed was the large scorch mark covering the bulk of the lot. Likely it was left from the lightning strike that he had witnessed from the hill. He could see where it had pulverized clone after clone. Their bodies serving to lessen the scorch marks on the pavement. He saw too where the truck had been sitting. Some of the rubber from the tires had been left on the pavement from where the heat and power of the lightning had scorched them. The body of the truck had also served to lessen the scorch marks on the pavement.

All of this he had expected to see. He had not expected to find much more, though he was pleased when he did. A good ways across the lot, there was a circular area of pavement completely devoid of scorching. It was as if this small area had either been newly paved since the blast, or was simply not here when the lightning had struck. The circle was about three feet in diameter. Just large enough for one adult sized person to stand within it and have a reasonable amount of room to move. The circle was too perfect to have been created accidentally. There was something more to it.

Further investigation of the pavement nearby yielded a clue. covered in the soot of a pulverized clone were four small indentations in the ground. They were just large enough for the tips of his fingers, and arranged in a line just so that each of his fingers could fit in one of the holes at the same time. SHADOW was getting sloppy. Though it took even someone with his skills a great deal of time to find, a child could have solved this puzzle.

Arrowhawk pressed downward and drew his hand back. A small panel slid open in the pavement. Beneath was a small button which read, "Down".

Not twenty seconds after he had pressed the button, he felt the pavement shift. The small circular area of pavement receded and withdrew under the rest of the lot. A cylindrical shaft rose from the ground. One side of it grew a seam, and split open revealing a person sized recess. Room for one. And not much room at that.

It was an elevator, that much was clear. But where would it take him? To SHADOW? To Valkyrie? To both? One thing was clear and cliche enough. There was only one way to find out...

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Arrowhawk froze. The last time he'd entered an elevbator leading into an enemy's headquarters, the world had gone to Hell around him. But that was my fault... But it had to be a trap. It was just too obvious.

And so he strode into the elevator nonetheless, nocking an arrow and pointing the bow at the entrance even as he brought his knee up to hit the buttons to send him down into the unknown underground, to find out what the hell was going on.

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The doors closed slowly with a soft hiss. The elevator gave a smooth jerk, and began it's descent. Every one of Arrowhawk's senses were on fire. They reached out in every possible direction, searching for the trap he knew they would spring. Unfortunately, none of his senses were sufficient to warn him of what was coming.

An odorless gas poured into the elevator from jets hidden within the very construction of the car. The gas was no different in temperature than the surrounding climate controlled atmosphere. It didn't smell, and it moved too slowly to created ripples in the air.

By the time Arrowhawk realized his senses were dwelling, it was already too late. He'd breathed too much of the gas. Before he could even move a hand to reach the tools and equipment he kept on him, he felt consciousness slip from his grasp like sand through one's fingers.


Klak. Klakita. Tik.

Arrowhawk became dimly aware of the sound of wood hitting metal lightly, but with enough force to bounce around. As his ears regained function, he began hearing a nearby muffled mumbling. Before long, it cleared itself up, and became recognizable speech, "...two in one day," someone was saying, "Boss'll be pleased."

His sight had not yet returned, but his nerve endings had once again begun firing. There was pressure on the underside of his upper arms. A hand. Holding his upper body aloft. The tops of his feet experienced a grating sensation as something smooth with a fine long flaw in it's construction moved across them. Or they moved across it. He was being carried. Dragged.

As the scene slowly formed in his mind's eye, his vision began to return. It was much as he had expected. He was being dragged across a metal floor by two men. One on each side, holding him by the upper arm. A gentle tilt of his head revealed two more men ahead of them, and the source of the klaking. One of the men stood in a doorway, leaning against the frame. The other was discussing something with him, on this side of the doorway. His bow lay on the floor near the two, likely dropped there unceremoniously.

It became apparent that he had not yet been bound, and he was starting to regain full feeling in his extremities. Whoever had gassed him had not counted on the fact that their prey was a seasoned crime fighter, with years of exposure to hazardous chemicals, and dangerous materials, including many forms of knockout gas. He suspected that the gas had been less effective on him than they could have anticipated. Arrowhawk's fingers and toes twitched, eager to be put to work, doing what they do best.

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Arrowhaek gritted his teeth. Four of them, two holding him. And he was currently unarmed. Hey, you got yourself into this. You get yourself out. On that thought, he burst into motion, planting both legs solidly on the floor and standing clear up.

As he did so, he spun his palms, moving to grip his captor's arms and spin them around into each other, powerful arm muscles honed by years of archery moving with machine-like power and precision as the middle-aged crimefighter rose, a sneer on his lips and fire in his eyes.

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With one smooth motion, the two clones that had been holding his arms found their skulls cracking together. They slumped to the ground unconscious. As Arrowhawk dropped into a fighting stance, it became clear that neither of the two remaining guards had expected this when they came into work today. Arrowhawk's bow still lay on the ground near the feet of the closer clone. Both clones were caught unaware and both were not ready for what was about to happen.

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"Nice work, lads," sneered Arrowhawk, lunging forward off his bad leg. He didn't get as much lift as he normally would, but it meant that the leg crashing towards one of the trooper's groins had a lot more power to it. He lashed up at the unsuspecting soldier's groin while simultaneously bringing his arms down in a rabbit punch.

He spun to grab the other man by his collar and slam him up against the wall menacingly. "I'm looking for a Wagner reject. Wanna tell me where she is?"

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After a lifetime of crimefighting anf interrogations, Arrowhawk had become very good at his job. He knew how to make men fear him. He knew the look on their faces when they did.

It was that fear of god that this clone now wore. "She's she's she's on the ... *hurk*" suddenly, his mouth began to foam. He pitched forward clutching his stomach. His violent retching freed him from Arrowhawks hands. "Ha haha huhurr!" A combination of histerical laughter and vomit poured from the clone's mouth before his head struck the cold metal floor.

Arrowhawk heard nothing but silence all around him.

Then there was a gentile moan. It came from inside the clone's post. A row of monitors displayed the output of what was likely security cameras. One showed a blond woman strapped to a verticle standing steel stretcher, or table of some kind. Blindfolded and gagged, her head lolled to one side. Another moan escaped her.

The monitor was labeled, "B5 Interrogation". And that was all Arrowhawk needed...

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Arrowhawk stared down at the clone prone on the ground. "Weird," he said softly, bending to pick up his bow, holding it loosely in a grip so he could swiftly bring it to bear. He frowned at the images on the monitor. This isn't right.

Eyes blazing, he turned on his heels, cape flicking behind him as he dropped into a low stance. Stalking down the hallways, he went in search of B5, itching for a fight should anyone get in his way.

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What followed was a blurry set of minutes for Arrowhawk. He stalked around the SHADOW complex, looking for a way down to the lower floors. This time, there were no enclosed spaces, and nothing to save any of the clones he encountered. The few that actually saw him approach were never conscious long enough to even scream. Each time he left one alive for questioning, it was a repeat of the first clone. After seeing the effects a few more times, he determined that there was some kind of poison being administered to them, if he foaming at the mouth was any indication. But whatever source triggered the dosage still eluded him.

To Arrowhawk's dismay, he discovered that the stairwell on each of the floors never descended more than one floor. Worse still, none of the floor layouts were ever identical. Each new floor meant a brand new search for the stairs. Though it made his life difficult, he couldn't help but marvel at the tactical security the structure provided.

Finally, the last three clones guarding the entrance to the fifth basement floor fell to his arrows. Slowly he stalked down the stairs.

The bottom of the stairs did not open up to an expansive hallway, as many before it had. Instead, it led to a small enclosure. Through the dim red light, Arrowhawk could make out a waist-high steel wall, and a large single-paned glass window that stretched from the top of the wall to the ceiling which completed the enclosure. To the right, a blast door led to the area beyond.

A swift glance through the glass told him beyond a doubt that he was looking at some sort of prison. The room itself was long and thin, and along each of the sides ran what looked to be combination holding and torture station. A few individuals scattered throughout the room were strapped to these steel boards. None looked to be conscious save for one. Valkyrie.

Not twenty feet past the glass, she was strapped to one of the stations just like the others. It seemed she had been stripped of her armor, though it was nowhere to be seen. Stripped down to a ragged tank top, and a pair of pajama pants that were shredded in places and burnt in others, she hung almost lifelessly within her restraints. Of marginally more concern, however, was the enormous man standing before her. With hair the same color as Valkyrie, his massive size alone, made his identity unmistakable, though Arrowhawk could only see his back. Ragnarok.

As Arrowhawk watched, Ragnarok grasped Valkyrie's face with a single massive hand, and raised her chin so that he could look down on her. As he did so, some of the long blond hair fell away to reveal who she was. Even through the blood stains, Arrowhawk knew that face.

A soft whispered voice played through his head from a remembered conversation, "I think this is the part where you ask me what my name is."

Vivian

Arrowhawk froze.

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Oh no. Oh hell no. Arrowhawk reached into his quiver, pulling out a thick, ugly arrow design he'd not used proper since Malice's downfall. It explains so much... He nocked the heavy, awkward arrow, adjusting his sight to compensate for it. And it complicates this so damn much.

He took aim at Ragnarok's back, lips curled back in a snarl. Wait.

Friendly fire could kill her, especially with this man. From half-remembered accounts, this guy was powerful. And so Arrowhawk requivered the arrow, and readying himself to run, raised a hand to his mouth. "Hey, blondie!" He waited for him to turn. "Can't get a date otherwise? Tut tut."

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The insult seemed to not even register. Could the man not hear him? Or was he just so focused he was able to ignore the archer?

Ragnarock's voice wafted into his enclosure, thogh not through the glass shield. Arrowhawk looked down to see a small speaker with a small blinking light and a button next to it. The room was likely soundproofed for observation.

"Tell me," the big man was saying, "Who was your mother? What do you know of the Valkyrie that came before you?" There was no response from Vivian, save for a faint murmuring.

The speaker crackled with static when Ragnarock's fist struck her jaw. A blow like that from Ragnarock would have killed any normal man, but aparantly Vivian was protected by more than her armor.

"Tell me! And while your at it, why don't you explain this trinket you carry?" Ragnarock lifted a small glowing blue jewel on a chain from beneath Vivian's shirt.

"No, ... don't..." was all the response she could muster.

"Ah she speaks! Well, maybe when you start making sense, you can have this back!" Ragnarock quickly snatched the jewel from her, snapping the chain with a smooth motion.

Then something remarkable happened. Ragnarock stumbled, as if thrown off balance by some terrible but unseen weight. He was dragged to the floor by the hand which held the jewel. "What?!" He attempted to lift his hand, but it seemed nailed to the floor. In the middle of his open palm Arrowhawk spied the glowing blue jewel. He could have sworn he'd seen it somewhere before...

"...you so hard Odin himself with feel it!" Ragnarock was saying, "Now explain this sorcerery, bitch! And release me from it!"

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