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The Templar scrambled up the stairs of the watch tower. His boots thudded on each wooden step, threatening to punch through the ages stairs. One hand held the stock of his rifle and the other was frantically trying to pull his zipper up.

The soldier had been taking a piss at the base of the watch tower, which stood at the top of a clear cut mountain. He could see for miles in every direction and with the radio in the tower, he could report it. However, he still had one hundred and twenty steps to go before he was at the top and he knew that he didn't have much time.

They nearly got him when he had been wrangling his dick free from his pants.

The beast had jumped out of the woods and him. It was grotesque with oily, jet black fur, a mouth full of needles and claws that could put tears in steels.

The Templar had just barely been able to pull his rifle up and fire a shot. It hadn't hit, but it startled both of them enough and the beast had made a quick retreat into the woods.

Now there were a dozen. He had seen them running down the side of a mill just across the valley from him. It was miles away, but time wise, it was mere minutes before they reached the tower. He needed to get to the top and call the base on the other side of the range and warn them.

Attacks of Templar bases had been on the rise for weeks now. Strange, bipedal Lycans, devoid of identity and hungry for blood, would swarm by the hundreds and kill everyone in sight. Because of this, the old watch tower, once used to scout for fires, was manned once more by a Templar.

The watch had not been popular. Anyone at the tower was meant to sacrifice themselves to warn the base. With the tower at the tail end of the locations where attacks had been occurring, it had been a matter of when, not if, the attack was going to come. No one wanted to man the tower and so, the base commander had drawn straws and set up the watch rotation that way. One week at the tower every six months was the rotation. It had only been three weeks since implementing the new tower watch.

The Templar's thighs burned as he rounded another corner of the tower. He was half way there when he heard the howling and yips of the approaching Lycans. How he wished that he had a Lycan by his side, but the commander had been the only one at the base. There was rumor that more were coming straight from the Vatican, but such rumors were hardly true.

The tower began to vibrate as dozens of paws hit the stairs at the base. The Lycans also barked and yipped in blood crazed excitement. They were scrambling over each other and still going up the steps much faster than their prey.

It was their first hunt since they had been turned and yet none could even recall ever being human because of the where power of their bloodlust and the domineering control of their alpha. It filled their heads. Kill the Templar! Kill the Templar! Feed!

It was the call that ran through all of their minds and drove them with reckless abandon. It was what made them go like wild animals and chase the lone Templar up his watch tower, but then... about half way up, the winds changed and a new scent emerged. Other Lycans of a different pack. Rivals. Enemies.

The lone Templar reached the top of his tower and slammed into the small shack that stood atop of it. It was a small room with everything necessary to live there for a few weeks and a radio that was already on the channel to the base.

He grabbed the radio and spoke into the mouth piece.

"Outpost tree-nine. Tower four." He nearly shouted into the thing.

"Tower four," a voice replied. Some static was heard, but the Templar recognized the voice as the base commander. "We've been trying to reach you for sometime now."

The Templar didn't even think of an excuse, instead he went straight to the report. "Enemy Lycans are attacking the tower! I need help."

There was a short pause. "We already know."

"What?" The Templar squeezed the radio tightly in his hands. "Say again?"

"Don't worry. Sit tight," the commander replied without the smallest hint of worry in his voice. "And enjoy the show."

The radio cut out and the Templar dropped his end. He scratched his head and looked out the door. The Lycans should have been on him already. He should be nothing more than a few piles of bone ridden meat, yet here he was, alive. The tower had also stopped shaking.

Grabbing his weapon, the Templar slowly stepped outside and looked at what was happening.

Below, a fight was going on.

Four individuals stood surrounded. The dozen Lycans that the Templar had seen before had grown to nearly fifty now.

The four individuals were very obviously Templar with their shiny armor, but there was something distinctively different. Three wore bright oranges, blues and reds with a large red feather protruding from their helmets. The fourth was larger, not by much, but enough to be noticeable. He wore no fancy colors or emblems, but instead wore a white cloak that was emblazon with the red cross of the Templar order. They stood before the horde, unimpressed.

"You will slay my brothers no more," the larger Templar announced to the Lycans. He drew his sword, a simple long sword. The others drew their weapons as well, a mace with a tower shield, massive broadsword and a light machine gun that surprisingly had a bayonet that was more like a spear.

There was no more talk. The Lycan horde attacked. They all jumped forward and the blood spilled fast.

The Templar with the machine gun opened fire, sending a stream of silver coated lead into the mass. It was impossible to miss and several Lycans were instantly torn to shreds by the thirty caliber rounds. Still, there were too many and the distance was too short for the gun to keep them at bay.

The Templar with the broadsword broke to the left and the larger Templar broke to the right while the mace wielding Templar stayed in the middle and covered the last Templar. There, they enacted slaughter.

The Templar moved gracefully and still, without mercy. Their weapons always found their spot, cutting, cleaving and smashing through the Lycans with ease. Though the Templar on the tower couldn't help but watch the larger one below. He moved with more aggression. Where the others waited for the enemy to inevitably come to them, the larger Templar sought out his next target. He would cut one Lycan in half and before the bits even hit the ground, he was bisecting another.

Despite being cut down so fast, the Lycans didn't stop their attack. They swarmed, changing their tactics and attacked the mace wielding Templar, who swung his mace back and forth, sending the iron ball through skulls with each swing. His shield vaulted would be attackers over his head where he then stomped on them with his metal boots. Though, there were too many.

A Lycan got behind the Templar and leaped, claws out and mouth open. It hit the Templar's back and sunk its teeth into his shoulder.

Instead on buckling under the pain and weight, the Templar swung his mace over his shoulder and caved the Lycan's right eye socket into its skull. The move left the Templar open and another Lycan cleaved into his chest plate with its claws, leaving red, wet grooves in the metal that oozed more blood. Still, the Templar fought on, even as more and more Lycans got blows in. He went down swinging until his arms were torn off and the Lycans made sure there was nothing left of him to recognize any more.

Seeing their brother fall, the other three Templar fought with even more ferocity. Bullet and sword, lead, silver and steel, all made short work of every Lycan they came across until there were none left, but one.

The last Lycan was different. It stood hunched over like all the others, but there was an intelligence to its eyes. It hadn't attacked with absolute disregard to its own safety, it had stayed back the entire time, watching.

"Who are you?" It licked its teeth and asked. It's whole body moved, jerked and twisted slightly as if there was something inside of it, trying to get out.

"I could ask the same thing of you," The larger Templar said, wiping his blade clean on his soiled cloak. He had gone untouched through the entire ordeal. Not a single scratch on him. "I know who your master is, but I haven't seen or ever heard of him creating such blasphemous creations such as yourself."

The last Lycan grinned. His teeth were black with tar, gums bleeding. "Fenrir had many tricks. He has plans for all of you in the end. You cannot resist forever."

The larger Templar stepped forward, which caused the Lycan to step back in uncertainty. "What is he planning? Killing and pillaging won't get him anywhere. Why start his so called Ragnarok now?"

The smile never faded from the Lycan as he took his head into his own paws and snapped it head off in one violent jerk. The body stood for a long second and then it let go of the head that bounced away and fell.

The larger Templar sighed and turned to look at the bloodied heap that was one of his Templar bretheren. "We'll burn the bodies now and have a funeral. These were all innocent people at one point and Knight Martinez deserves a proper send off."

They began the slow and dirty business of collecting bodies and stacking them.

Shortly after, the Templar on the watch tower came down. He looked in awe at the carnage. He had never seen so few take on so many. He had always been told that a single Lycan could take on a dozen humans.

"There you are," the larger Templar said upon seeing the man. He had smelled him a long time ago, but didn't want to frighten him any more than he already was. Most of the order was made up of people who had never fought at all. It was a job to them. Even most of the Lycans in the order were green as well. This war was going to hurt a lot.

"You killed them all," the Templar said, gazing back and forth across the ground and then to his saviors.

"Not all of them," the Templar with the machine gun, now strapped to his back, said in an Australian accent. "That one there killed himself before we could." He chuckled and tossed what looked like a torso onto the growing pile of bodies.

"What's your name, Templar?"

"Maacio Yavuz," he answered.

"I'm Jack Williams," The larger Templar replied. "The one with the mace is Knight Dubois and the other is Knight Walker."

"And the one that fell?" Maacio asked.

"Knight Martinez." He made a cross across his chest using his hand. "He was a good and faithful man all the way to the end."

"He wouldn't have wanted to go any other way," Walker said and picked up the still full chest piece that belonged to Martinez. He set it down off to the side along with other parts that had belonged to the deceased Templar.

"Full of piss and vinegar," Dubois replied. "Or in his case, Tequila and hot sauce."

"Aye," Walker nodded. "Wanted nothing more than to be in the field. How many times did he complain about being on guard duty?"

"Too many," Jack said and began to help with the bodies again.

Maacio tried to help, but he didn't have much of a stomach for the gruesome work. He had come from the markets of Istanbul where he sold spice with his mother and father. It was his uncle who had shown him the Templars after rising tensions between Christians and Muslims had driven him and his family to Europe. He hadn't even gutted a fish before.

Jack went ahead and let Maacio sit off to the side while had and his companions finished the job and set the dead Lycans on fire.

After, a grace was dug and the remains of Knight Martinez was lowered down and into it. Everyone said a few words, even Maacio, who spoke his appreciation of his sacrifice, before filling the hole and planting makeshift cross of sticks at the head of the dirt pile.

"How did you know that they were coming?" Maacio asked, looking up to Jack.

"There's been other attacks all along the mountains," Jack replied. "We were too late to get to the other ones."

"Mine was next in line," Maacio stated.

Jack nodded. "They're preparing for something big, testing out defenses, taking out our forward posts. We're nearly helpless to stop it."

"Gonna take the fight to them," Walker said. He was now sitting on a stump, cleaning his gun. "Hit them before they hit us so hard that we fall and never get back up."

"With you three," Maacio said, "they don't stand a chance. I never knew that the order had Knights like you three."

Dubois chuckled and Walker smirked. Jack kept a straight face, if not, still a little mournful for Martinez.

"What?" Maacio asked. He looked between the three.

"Knight is a title a little below ol' Jack Williams here," Walker said.

"A little?" Dubois exclaimed. "As far away as possible for one of us Templar."

When Maacio didn't change his confused look, Walker leaned in close and whispered in his ear. "You have the honor of addressing the Grand Master of the Knights Templar Order."