Of Jesters and Orcs 11

[CENTER][u]Of Jesters and Orcs[/u]

Chapter 11: Assassins and Destinies

<<<Karaka>>>[/CENTER]

While Mopsa was getting the details from the skittish witches, Karaka hadn’t just been looming like a giant green thug. He’d been on lookout, stretching his sense of awareness as far as he could on the off chance the killer, or killers, decided to strike again. Personally he doubted it, but he never was one to rest on his laurels.

And so stand guard he would do.

Though he did listen to the witches tell their tales, and the more he listened the more he wondered if there was something more to simple murders. The killings while targeted towards magicals seemed… random. A hedge mage here, a base conjurer there, a witch that ran an occult store?

There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason, unless the targets were just magicals in general but then why not aim for the low hanging fruit? The hedge mages, the utter novices, and those with barely any talent? Their deaths would’ve been simplier, easier to disguise and misdirect as an accident or a suicide attempt.

“There has to be a bigger game at play…” Though by the Gods above and below did he hate investigations.

He could do them, but he preferred to keep things simple as much as he could. It always felt like he was just running around being led by nose.

He heard something then, a dull clicking and scratching coming from the door. He recognized the sound from his time as a bandit: someone was trying to pick the lock. Mopsa had heard it too and a quick, and silent, exchange had him nodding.

He’d check it out, it was likely just an average thief trying to break into a rather rich seeming house but… he had his hand on his blade nonetheless.

“Gods save me from rogues…” He thought, only slightly sarcastic.

The sheer amount of times he ever had a hard time could be attributed to or caused by the sneaky shits. He had great respect for people that used those skills, but damn if they were difficult to deal with. Especially when they specialized in stealth and deception.

The door opened before he’d managed to reach it, revealing a voluptuous woman with darker than average skin and ever so slightly slanted eyes framed by coal-dark hair; her outfit was less than conservative as well, showing a large amount of cleavage.

[spoiler=Rogue][img]https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/marvel_dc/images/8/8d/Cheshire_003.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20100514185540[/img][/spoiler]

“... Why do female rogues dress so provocatively?” He couldn’t help but wonder.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” She said with an easy smile; shifting herself to further emphasize her figure. “I must have been at the wrong apartment. I was wondering why my key wasn’t working.” She actually had a key in her hand too. “Do you live here? I haven’t seen you before…”

Karaka raised a eyeridge at that. “Hmm, no my friend and I are investigating,” He said vaguely, never once lowering his guard.

He knew what an assassin looked like, he’d faced his share of assassins and cutthroats alike, if he wasn’t ‘on the job’ so to say and she wasn’t so suspicious he wouldn’t have minded talking with her.

“... did someone break into my house or something?” She asked, face looking shocked. It was a good act, but she didn’t carry herself in a way that would sell it. It was clear that she hadn’t prepped for it.

“There’s been a series of murders and attacks, and since Batman’s unavailable we’re picking up the slack,” He answered, “You never did introduce yourself… Ms?”

“Not Nightwing or Batgirl?” She asked before shrugging introducing herself. “I’m Jade, what’s your name, handsome?”

“Jade, I’ll remember that,” He thought before responding, “Nightwing and Batgirl are also investigating but well… this city is what it is. And the name’s Karaka, Ms. Jade.”

“Pretty name,” Jade said, easy smile on her lips as she stepped a little closer, “That sword just for looks, or can you use it? I used to be pretty into kendo myself…”

His other eye ridge joined the other, while he wasn’t a stranger to forward assassins it always surprised him. “I like to think I’m skilled, but there is always someone better.” He answered, “Though I’m not familiar with kendo…”

“It’s very fun, it’s very… sporterized, however,” She continued, flicking her hair back. “You have to call out your target before hitting. Like your head… your stomach… groin… your neck.~” She practically purred the last word, eyes lingering on each spot. “If you don’t, you don’t get a point…”

“Hmm, sounds familiar enough.” He’d honestly never got the point of duels as his eyes narrowed faintly, “Indeed, I imagine you’re particularly good at distracting your targets, hm?” He asked as he cast some subtle magics on himself.

While not his best stuff, it would change a fatal blow into something lesser. Still dangerous though.

Jade pouted. “Never fooled you for a moment, did I? So much like the bats it’s annoying. When they ask who stabbed you, tell them Cheshire.~” Her blade was in his gut in a flash, he’d never even seen it go into her hand, before she flipped away and began to run.

Karaka grunted  and as much as he wished to remove the blade he didn’t, gut wounds were terrible things even with magical protections, and as much as he wished to give chase there was a possibility that there were more waiting in the wings. Gritting his teeth he reentered the apartment and leaned against the door frame blackish red oozing slowly from the gut wound.

“Fuck,” Mopsa said as she saw him, running over, “Take it out and let me heal you. Who stabbed you? An assassin?” She was already preparing spells to heal him, “Any idea if it’s poisoned?”

“Cheshire she said, she gave me Jade as well but I’m not sure if that’s true or not,” Karaka said as he pulled the blade out causing it to bleed more, “And no, I don’t believe so.”

Though he was going to keep the blade, he’d love to return it to the wench himself.

“I’ll cast a spell to cure poisonings anyway, just in case,” She said, her hands going to him and glowing a soft white. His flesh knit together instantly and, after another spell, an exhaustion he hadn’t noticed faded away. “There, how’s it feel? Still tender?”

“Better, and I suppose it was poisoned,” Karaka said as he checked the former wound, “A mite tender but it isn’t bleeding, so overall I’d call it healed.”

“Good, now…” Slowly, the jester started grinning, “Why’d you let yourself get distracted enough to get hit?~ Was she pretty?~ Prettier than me?~ I won’t be mad if you say yes.~”

Karaka just rolled his eyes. “While she was rather fetching, a disturbingly common trend among wicked women I noticed, she doesn’t hold a candle to you,” He answered, “And I was hoping that she would just back away when she realized I wasn’t falling for it. But we see how that went, eh?”

“Aww, you do think I’m pretty,~” She teased, “But that was a terrible idea. We’re both probably on the hit list anyway. But since she knows where at least some of these nice witches live, we’ll need to work out a place for them to hide out.”

Karaka nodded, in hindsight he probably should’ve just taken her head and called it a day but in all fairness he didn’t want to listen to Batman grumbling about it. And partially because he wanted to fight someone that used a sword as well, but he wasn’t going to actually admit to that. He didn’t like guns, as an orc he saw them as cowardly things… it was one thing to use them to defend yourself and your fellows but it was another thing entirely to use them to kill for reasons beyond defending you and yours.

They offended his orc sensibilities, even if he was well aware of how useful they could be.

“But we can seduce the pretty assassin later,” Mopsa continued, making him sigh, “I’ll teleport the girls to a hotel. Think you can track her?”

Karaka nodded, he didn’t notice it at first but when he started cycling his magic he did catch a whiff of something. It was a peculiar scent, but certainly memorable compared to the odor of the city. Quite pleasant really, but once again he was never going to say that out loud.

“With some difficulty,” He said, “But you should get the coven sorted… I have a blade to return to a cheeky wench…” 

[hr][/hr]

Cheshire led him on a merry hunt though the city, often leading him to clashes with the native criminals that call the city home. All of them ‘mooks’ as Nightwing would call them, most unaffiliated with any of the Big Names in the city.

Though there was a very… irritating encounter with a big name obsessed with a storybook. Seemed determined to put a hat on his head. Karaka broke both his legs and left him tied up before calling it in and resuming his hunt.

Which led him underground, into the sewers (which made him curse violently), and eventually even deeper into what seemed to be a natural cave system.

Neveah was with him, though the bird didn’t seem happier with the sewer smell than he was, and it made itself known by saying. “Mopsa’s diamonds have been stolen, she doesn’t know by who. Foolish jester! Don’t die, she can’t bring you back if you do!”

Karaka just nodded to the nonsensical bird.

Eventually his explorations led him into a sizable opening, entering it he looked around taking in the size and frowning at all the potential hiding spots the assassin could use. But his eyes were eventually drawn to a pit. Glancing into it his nose scrunched up, it was filled with this odd liquid that had an unnatural hue and glow to it.

He could practically taste the magical nature of it.

“What is this?” He grunted the smell of the fluid irritating his nose.

His answer came in the form of a blade slashing at him and Neveah (who naturally flew a short distance away, laughing). It was easy enough to parry, but there were more of them coming and he had to react quickly and move back from the group.

“Assassin toys then?” Karaka retorted as he held his sword at the ready.

They faced off for a time before, as if signaling things to begin, a rock fell into the pool in the pit with a splash. The group of assassins charged as one, and Karaka simply grinned. Being underground stopped him from using most of his more destructive and energetic techniques, he didn’t want to bring the ceiling down on him and Neveah after all.

So straight sword techniques it is!

Reinforcing his body on the off chance any of them showed more skill than expected, Karaka moved to clash against the group. Ducking, dodging, weaving, and deflecting strikes from their weapons. And, though none seemed to show any notable skill, they weren’t unskilled. Each of them moved with precision and fluidity that only came from stringent and harsh training and physical conditioning.

Karaka had to acknowledge the skill of whoever trained this bunch.

Most used swords of varying lengths, though some used weapons he’d only even seen monks use, and a few simply had weapons that surprised him. Still, despite the unusual nature of some of their weapons, none got closer than kissing his flesh instead of slicing him open.

And, despite how Batman would prefer, Karaka wasn’t playing with gloves on. His blade heated and he took limbs whenever he saw an opening. The pain would take them out of the fight, and as the fight continued he felt as if someone new was watching.

And they approved?

Their claps rang out. “My, you’d do well as an ally to us you know.” His voice was deep and refined and, as it echoed in the room, the rest of the assassins moved back. “But you don’t seem like the type to accept the offer, are you Karaka?”

“No,” Karaka said with a grunt as he grabbed one assassin and chucked him across the cave.

“That was rude of you, throwing a non-combatant,” The man said, sounding amused, “Cheshire implied that you were more polite.”

“You trained them, and I can tell you are the greater threat,” Karaka said, “And I am, where is the lass? I have a blade I want to return to her.”

“Being punished for leading you here,” He replied offhandedly, “None of your concern, really.” His steps down the stairs leading up to his balcony were slow and measured, his stance screaming that he was dangerous. “But I suppose it isn’t a great loss to kill you anyway, we get a bounty on each head we retrieve, metaphorically speaking.”

“Bounty, figures,” Karaka grunted, “Assassin and cutthroats, always for the highest bidder,” He added as he held his sword, his senses screaming at him if he didn’t take this seriously this man would take his head.

“It’s for the greater good,” He replied, “But we do need funds to keep operating, sacrifices must be made.”

“Money, truly the Greatest of all Evils,” Karaka said with a snort, not even bothering to argue against the ‘Greater Good’ dogma. It failed more often than not, and he simply didn’t have the patience for it.

“Perhaps, but it can be put to good use as well,” The man said with a shrug before taking a staff from a nearby stand. “You’ve been getting slower and using fewer magical tricks as the fight went on,” He noted, “You’re also old, visibly so, and carrying injuries that didn’t properly heal. It will be less painful if you simply give up.”

Karaka just grunted, “Orcs don’t give up. We win or die,” He said, though he understood the value of a tactical retreat.

A retreat he knew wasn’t feasible, not being in the man’s sights.

“Commendable. Foolish, but commendable,” The man said with a respectful nod, “You know you can’t win.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement of fact that even Karaka couldn’t deny.

Truly, aging was the most insidious curse. It didn’t help that all the tracking and fighting had worn him down. For an old orc he had impressive stamina, but the main problem was his age. And he knew he couldn’t reinforce his body unless he wanted to suffer some backlash.

Mopsa teleported nearby, but she was immediately swarmed by the no-names and couldn’t help as a result, her mace swinging desperately as she cast spell after spell to keep them back and down.

“No interrupts, my dear Lady,” The man commented genially before he held his staff out, “Come then.”

There was a sense of.. finality as Karaka made the first move and instead of feeling any sense of hesitance or dread towards his inevitable defeat and possible death, he just felt a sense of peace.

He fought like a demon, his blade always just getting in the way of the metal lined staff and retaliating with as much force and speed as he could muster. The man was clearly impressed, focusing on each move, but Karaka felt the toll it took on his body.

And, even as his flesh was bruised, his bones creaked and cracked, and his organs slowly failed him, he didn’t make a sound beyond grunts of strain. His pride refused to let him express the pain he felt, and if he was going to die he was going to stare it down without flinching. 

Baring his teeth, blood staining them as well as steadily leaking from his mouth with each cough. Seeing an opening he attempted an overhead slash, only in an instant realizing his mistake but he was committed and couldn’t correct in time.

The man, the Assassin, didn’t smirk in superiority as he struck. His staff deflected Karaka’s blade to the side as his other hand slammed a dagger through his chest before quickly slicing his throat down to the bone. “There, I’ve made your death as painless as I can in acknowledgement of your skill.”

Karaka just fell to his knees as he heard Mopsa call out for him, one hand grasping his throat as the other went to his chest. Though he couldn’t speak beyond making gurgles, he looked at the Assassin, trying to commit the face to memory. Why, he couldn’t honestly say; only that things started to fade.

The last thing he knew he was falling…

His eyes opened as he stood to the side of his body, lightning surrounding Mopsa and striking all of the men around her as the assassin turned to run. But… time was frozen and a young looking woman was standing nearby.

She was pretty, though her pale skin reminded him of some dead bodies and her ankh of a southern religion he knew of. It was a symbol of life, he thought. Her face was painted, though in a different manner than Mopsa’s, and her raven black hair was cut short; like a warrior, even if her stance said she was a healer.

Karaka looked at her for a few moments, “... Who are you?” He asked as he looked around.

Mospa’s face frozen in despair and rage, assassins frying and possibly dying.

“I’m Dee,” She replied with a soft smile. “And you are dying… but we have some time to talk. How about we go for a walk?”

“Dying…” He muttered as he looked at his… body, before looking back to Dee, “Yes, I don’t think that’d be a problem,” He added with a nod.

Truly he felt… off, numb even. He wondered if any of his tribesmen experienced such a peculiar movement.

“That’s shock,” She said, voice so painfully gentle, “I don’t usually show up like this, I usually wait for someone that’s guaranteed to die, but you’re up in the air at the moment.”

That made sense, but he looked at her curiously, “Show up…?” Karaka just hummed, “I… believe I know what’s happening…”

She smiled knowingly and, perhaps, a touch smugly as she started walking away. Time was still moving, just very slowly and the arrival of Nightwing in a flash of light showed as much.

Karaka followed. “I never imagined the Keeper of the Dead would be so fetching,” He commented, “Legends depicted you as a wizened elder guiding the dead to their final rest.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” She replied, sounding grateful, “But I don’t usually take that form. It depends on what the person needs, to a point, but most prefer seeing a face like this one… besides, I like this look.”

Made sense to him. “It suits you,” He said, “I think Nightwing calls the look… ‘goth’ I think?”

“I picked it up from someone I met in a… ‘hot topic’ I think the store was called,” It didn’t sound like she had a chance to misremember it, “but you’re more willing to embrace this than most are. I suppose your culture views death as something natural, even positive?”

“Death isn’t something to fear or run from. Nor is it something to embrace or seek out. It is the final rest waiting for us all,” He said, “Many in my tribe greeted the Keeper of the Dead as a friend, or so I like to believe.”

She nodded, hat on her head not moving an inch, before correcting him. “I’m not a Keeper of the Dead, I am Death of the Endless. I was the first being to die, just as Destruction of the Endless was the first to Destroy and Dream of the Endless was the first to Dream.”

“Interesting,” Karaka said, “But you wanted to talk Lady Dee?”

“Please don’t call me ‘Lady’,” She said with a smirk, voice full of amusement, “It makes me feel older than I actually am. But yes, in fact; my family, the other Endless, are the topic I wanted to talk about.”

“As you wish, Dee,” Karaka said with a faint chuckle.

In a blink they were out on the street, the setting sun casting a dark shadow across the city. There were other Dee’s talking to people. Not many, just a few in dark alleys, but enough to tell him that he wasn’t the only one dying at that moment.

Karaka just remained silent as he watched Dee help them move on with a few words; some cried, others raged, and some denied it. But eventually they all accepted it, and with some kind words and a friendly smile she helped them find peace.

“I had a sister named Delight, once upon a time,” She said, “It didn’t last.”

Karaka just thought, “I assume you didn’t escort her to peace,” He said, “She… changed. Delight became something else,” He speculated.

Dee just smiled, though there was a faint sadness to it, “Observant. But yes… my sister Delight became Delirium, and we don’t know why,” She said with a faint sigh, “I still love her, but well… I assume you can make your own conclusions.”

Karaka just hummed. “Do you think she could return to Delight?” He asked curiously.

“Maybe, when she focuses she can bring it out again but it never lasts,” Dee replied, “It causes her pain, according to her. Maybe Mopsa could fix it, we’ve never tried with her brand of abilities. Ours can’t do it, nor any other magic from this… plane, you and she called it?” She looked towards him for confirmation.

“Yes. Though I’m fairly sure there are other terms for it. But plane is the most commonly used.” He said, “Though I must confess, Mopsa is a better bet. I never studied the most esoteric aspects of magic, and I’ll gladly leave Conceptual subjects to people far more intelligent than I.”

Dee nodded and continued, “It was on one of her good days that she told Dream, my closest brother, that a demon was going to try to usurp her powers through ritual. This is not an unprecedented attempt, but it was hard to figure out who was doing it and harder to do something about it.” She smirked and looked at him.

“And I and Mospa barged into the issue, I believe?” Karaka asked with a faint snort.

“In a way,” She replied, “Destiny is very annoyed with you both, it should be said. You weren’t in his book originally and he has had to edit large parts of it.”

“... Would it help if I apologized for myself and Mopsa?” Having an Endless, if they were equivalent to Gods like he thought they were, irritated with him sounded like a bad time.

“Only somewhat,” She said, voice sardonic and a touch dry, “But he’ll ‘get over it’, as teenage girls would say.”

“Well if it helps, I don’t believe Mopsa did it on purpose,” Karaka said, “I certainly didn’t plan it. Even if the change of scenery is rather pleasant.”

Dee snorted. “It does, and he knew that before, but that doesn’t change how much work you’ve made for him.” Her hand waved through the air some, “As an example, Brainiac was supposed to attack a month after he did and kill approximately five percent more humans than he did and Poison Ivy was supposed to have taken over a factory farm approximately nine miles away from the city, which would have led to both a small improvement in water quality in the area and a drop in output that would have resulted in three deaths and a quality of life improvement for other farmers by six percent,” She listed off, “And that’s just for a start.”

“...I’m not apologizing. And Ivy is more Mopsa’s fault then mine.” Karaka said with a faint chuckle, “Though it sounds like good and bad has happened due to our appearance.”

Her smirk seemed to widen some, like she’d just won a bet with someone, before she said, “Isn’t that everyone? Regardless, the reason I can appear to you like this and give you the warning I have is that neither of you have a set Death yet, you’re fluid and unwritten.”

“True enough,” Karaka said, “Though I suppose my having a foot in the grave before this helped slightly.”

It wasn’t hard to guess, admittedly. Not with how time had completely stopped by then. It was highly unlikely they’d have been able to hold such a long conversation if he was alive without anyone interrupting.

“I had to arrange for it to happen,” She replied, not sounding apologetic in the least, “I haven’t done that in… a very long time. I learned early on that Death happened with or without me being there.”

“If I was anything other than an orc I’d probably be annoyed,” Karaka admitted with a chuckle, “As it is, you gave me a fight every orc dreams of having before dying. So for that, I thank you for arranging this meeting.”

She smiled at him. “You’re welcome. It’s not often I have people thank me for anything involving, well…” Dee gestured at the environment around them. “Usually it’s just cursing and anger.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” Karaka quipped with a faint smile.

“If it wasn’t me, it would have been Dream; if that changes anything,” She replied, “Likely to Mopsa as she slept. But the earlier the better with things like this.” A small bag was in her hand, soft clicking and clacking coming from it. It explained where Mopsa’s diamonds had gone… the disappearance of which had almost certainly been what delayed her arrival.

Karaka just nodded in understanding, though he did look over and saw that they were approaching the Gotham General Hospital.

“Now that I’ve delivered my warning…” Dee said, handing the bag over to him, “Can I make a request of you?”

“Of course,” Karaka said as he secured the bag, how it would even translate to his body he didn’t even try to make sense of, “What do you need?”

She waved towards the hospital. “It so happens that a child has died alongside you, and he’s always wanted to see a superhero. I… try to let people get their wish, when it’s something like this, but the usual people I’d take him to are busy; not that they’ve ever seen me.” She smirked and winked playfully, “I’m pretty subtle when I want to be.”

Karaka just smiled. “You’re a kind woman Dee,” He said, “I’d be honored.”

“I have no reason not to be,” She replied before, with a suddenness that shocked him, they appeared in a hospital room.

He saw another Dee sitting on a boy’s hospital bed, large white and fluffy wings upon her back. Really, she looked overall more angelic than she did for him. “Told you I knew a superhero,” She told the boy, who looked excited to meet him. “Why don’t you ask him those questions you were so eager to share?”

Karaka just chuckled before walking over and crouching before the boy, though a part of him was sad to meet him. The death of a child was a horrible thing, no matter the circumstances.

“So, what’s on your mind?” Karaka asked with a smile.

The questions came as a torrent, and he patiently answered each one.

[hr][/hr]

The boy went with the angelic Dee with a soft and happy smile, his last question… “Does it hurt to die?”

Answering it hurt, even if the answer was ‘no.’ Dee hadn’t stopped smiling through the whole thing, but it was a sad and gentle smile. A soothing one, like a mother caring for her sick child.

“No, it’s like falling asleep,” Karaka had said, “But what comes next is amazing,” He’d added as he ruffled the child’s hair, getting a giggle in return.

“You’re a better person than you think you are,” Dee said, sounding genuine, “But I don’t think you’re cut out for my job.” It wasn’t a statement meant in unkindness, he could feel that, but…

“No, I am not.” Karaka agreed, he couldn’t imagine the weight of responsibility her duties entailed.

“You’re thinking too small too,” She confided, “This is one world among billions, each with millions or billions, in some cases trillions, of men, women, and children; all of them Destined to die, someday.”

Karaka just nodded, it was less he was thinking too small and more he simply couldn’t fathom it. Logically, he knew this (at least after Brainiac), but he couldn’t really get it. But this entire meeting helped him at least understand a little, but in the long run he didn’t truly comprehend anything.

“I do see the demon’s attempt, on that topic. Billions of deaths all at once that aren’t meant to happen,” She shrugged, “But I can’t look directly into it without making it more likely to occur. It starts three weeks from now in Europe, but I can’t give you anything more. If we get more information, Dream will tell you.”

“That is fine,” Karaka said, “And when we meet and it's my time for my Final Peace, I’ll greet you with a smile and hug, Lady Dee,” He teased faintly.

Her eyes rolled. “I was thinking of taking a mortal guise for a time, after this is dealt with, maybe you can give me that hug then,” She said with a smile, “Maybe Mopsa too.”

“Really? Well then I suppose I’ll see you sooner than expected,” Karaka chuckled, “And Mopsa will love that. Though I’m already dreading the questions and teasing in turn from her…”

“It helps me keep perspective,” Dee said, “On mortality. I don’t do it often, but every century or so.”

“Well, I suppose we should get to resolving this Demon problem so you can take your vacation,” Karaka said as he stretched faintly, “Though… well, how do I even go back? A dagger to the heart and a throat slashed to the bone is kind of difficult to bounce back from.” Not to say it was impossible, he’d seen some frankly ridiculous things in his life.

Dee just smiled, reached up, and pushed on his forehead; making him fall backwards.

Opening his eyes when he already had his eyes open just moments before was an interesting experience… and a mistake as the strange magical mud got into them and burned a bit.

With a hacking cough he pulled himself out, feeling better than he had in decades in spite of the clear scarring on his chest. He looked younger too, the wrinkles and creases that had formed on his hands were just gone.

“Oh thank Picoperi that worked,” Mopsa said, slumping against a part of it. She looked like she’d been carrying a heavy load and, since he’d died a distance away from the thing, it wasn’t hard to figure out why.

Though he couldn’t really say anything to comfort her as he focused on coughing and hacking up bits of magical mud.

“I just hope he came back sane,” Nightwing said, looking about as good as Mopsa did, “He wasn’t dead for too long, so I don’t think there will be an issue, but… hey Karaka, why does two plus two equal fish?”

“Because Mopsa wrote the damn textbook!” He retorted between coughs.

“He’s good,” Mopsa said with a grin, helping him up and out of the pool, “Welcome back to the land of the living, I told you not to do what you did and-are those my diamonds?” The look of absolute confusion on her face was worth the stab wound on its own. “I know for a fact you didn’t have those before I tossed you in there, the hell?”

“Yeah, Dee gave them to me,” He said as he passed them to her, “She said she had to arrange things.”

“... Who?” She asked, “I think he’s lost it. We’ll have to put him down like a sick horse…”

“Death,” Karaka answered with a snort before he looked at Nightwing, “Don’t even think about it.”

“About… what?” Nightwing asked, “Zatanna and Dr. Fate have talked about her once or twice, surprised she showed up for you though, anything she needed to talk about?”

“Demon trying to usurp her sister Delirium's power,” He said, “It’s somewhere in Europe, but she couldn’t be more specific.”

“... That’s a problem,” Nightwing noted, “Come on, we need to go. The League is on the way, Batman will be here soon and I want to get the criminals you maimed ready for transport.”

Karaka snorted. “Took them out of the fight, didn’t it?” He said, “Besides, Cheshire led me on a merry chase.”

“Not blaming you, we just need to get them stabilized,” He replied before running over to the men and women he’d disabled.

Karaka just rubbed his forehead, “I haven’t snapped like that in sometime…”:

“Come on, you can use a wand, can’t you?” Mopsa said with a grin, handing him one, “Let’s not offend our host’s sensibilities.”

Karaka nodded and got up before he went to work using the wand to stabilize and heal the disarmed (literally) assassins before tying them up.

It was going to be a long night… longer than it had been already, anyway.

[hr][/hr][hr][/hr]