Open Chronicles Guillotine

[Jane]

(Poor's Neighbourhood by Lemonushka)​

What a fool.

Hyatta the Succubus stood over the body of Lord Greyfell, the former lord of the town of Guillotine. Her whip wrapped tightly around his neck, underneath his pale face and blue lips.

And her imps poured out of the summoning circle--as many as could squeeze through in the time allotted. Ravenous. Ready to feast and destroy for her bidding, for propitiation to her master, the Dark One Halch.

Lord Greyfell had promised her all he owned, had he not?

Hm, hm, hm.

* * * * *​

The quaint town known "affectionately," and only, as Guillotine. Nestled square in the center of the track of forest and grassland east of the Bystra River and south of the Wda and west of the Spine.

Sordid past, Guillotine had. Throughout history, a number of cruel and unusual torture devices and brutally efficient contraptions of execution had originated from here--one such contraption bearing the name of the town itself. Not that the people who lived there were all that more wicked or virtuous (go on, have yerself a laugh) from any other townsfolk living in any other town across Arethil; somehow, by some sly threading of fate, Guillotine just happened to be the place of a number of morbid inspirations throughout the decades.

What Guillotine was known for, aside from this messy history of invention, was the number of lords the town went through. The town had long ago "sorted out" any nobility from living there; perhaps, in an Age gone and passed, Guillotine was a more orderly place, with a more structured social hierarchy. Now it was a town of rough, hardy, sardonic, fiercely individualistic folk, who with wry smirks bestowed the title of "Lord" upon whomever among them they elected to "lead" them. Yet, miraculously, there was always someone willing to try. Sometimes they knew their place as merely a figurehead, the person to whom actual nobles from neighboring towns or abroad palavered with and other such inconsequential matters. Sometimes they knew this and abdicated "power" when their fellow townsfolk told 'em to and went back to plowing their fields or digging in the amethyst mine or working at the lumber mill.

Sometimes they were like "Lord" Greyfell, a salty bastard if there ever was one. A rolling mess of a man who couldn't damn well take a joke or hold his ale.

Well. There was a saying in Guillotine: "Keep yer sword, keep it close." Everybody in Guillotine was armed. Everybody. Mothers would beat their sons if they hadn't touched a wooden practice sword by the time he was as tall as her waist, and they'd beat their daughters twice as hard. There were no guards in Guillotine, because everybody was a guard. Justice was communal, if'n you want to put it politely.

And as it so happened, the townsfolk of Guillotine had asked Lord Greyfell to step down and head on back to whatever big city he had come from.

Asked him once. Twice. And there wasn't gonna be a third time.

Then he up and went missing for a few days.

Ain't that something.

* * * * *​

Jane sat on a stool at the bar of the dingy tavern known as Dirty Dave's. David, the barkeep, claimed to serve the best damn mead in all of Guillotine. Fuck that bitch Ymir down the street.

A pint of this supposedly "best damn mead in all of Guillotine" sat on the bar counter in front of her. And Jane had her head bowed and the necklace of her Amulet of Astra held tightly in her clasped hands, the amulet itself dangling.

"Astra...Astra, please...give me the strength, give me the strength...!" she said, her voice taut with the tension of one about to crack. It was an intensity from both ends: a powerful desire to drink the immortal hell out of that mead, a powerful desire to resist.

Her fellow tavern patrons, however, were having none of it; those of the small adventuring party she had fallen in with, and especially those citizens of Guillotine proper. A chant had started up in the tavern, with accompanying stomps of booted feet for each syllable: "Take-a-drink! Take-a-drink!"

Jane, still praying, "Astra...ignore these fucks...they know not what they ask."

"Take-a-drink!"

"Astra...I beseech you..."

"Take-a-drink!"

"Maybe..."

"Take-a-drink!"

"Maybe you could look the other way. Or blink."

"Take-a-drink!"

Jane let go of her amulet and it pinged lightly on the metal of her breastplate and hung there by the necklace. Gripped the handle of the tankard and lifted it up. Regarded the tankard and the smooth beverage inside with the warm eyes and upturned brows and quivering smile of someone meeting with an old friend whom they had been forbidden to see.

"Or you could tell me how many floggings this is worth. Heh, heh. Heh. Heh."

And Jane held the tankard close to her lips. Teetered on the precipice.

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• No strict posting order.
• Feel free to create/use NPCs as you see fit. Townsfolk, imps, maybe even something spicier.
• THE DEMONS ARE COMING.

 

[Titus Phane]

Titus was fairly exhausted at this point. He normally walked wherever he went anyways. But still, the travel from the last town to this one was only a days journey... On horseback... Which is why he had to camp in the woods the night before and then travel through the next day to reach the village. He had to sell his horse a few villages back to be able to afford food and a room.
He was down to his last silvers, that should get him something to eat and drink here so that he wouldn't have to go foraging again. He'd have to look for work here to have a chance in the next village though.
He entered the village called guillotine. Such an unfortunate name for a village, but it seemed a well enough place besides the chill that went down his spine. He looked around, his eyes catching glimpses of shadows taking cover from his gaze... Not all was well in this village.

He looked around for a tavern, but all he had to do was follow the noise in the otherwise quite town. He was dressed in common traveling clothes, a leather coat and dusty black breeches, a light backpack with a cloak and bedroll was slung over his back. He approached the steps of the tavern and kicked the dust off his boots before he pushed the door open. Unexpectedly the door swung open a little too easily and Titus flinched as it hit the wall, then grimaced as it slammed shut behind him.
Judgement shot from the bartenders eyes
"Mind the door, boy!"
Titus simply nodded, doing his best to ignore the other staring patrons as he approached the bar to order, placing a silver on the table.
"Food and water, please."

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Nate rested his feet on the table he sat at within the tavern. Smelling the scent of ale, the scent of sick and the scent of sweat as people drank. Not only smelling but listening to the people within the tavern.

He'd listen as a supposed holy woman started to drink ale after the nagging of others. Now that was something nice to see.

"Mind the door, boy!"

Nate looks up at a man walks in after slamming the door and he ordered some food and drink.

One of the waitresses put a plate of meat on his table, she was about to walk away he stops her with a gentle tap of her wrist. "If you don't mind me keeping you for a moment, I'm looking for work. The monster kind of work." He tells her.

The waitress looks a bit confused for a second then gives him a nod once she figured out what he meant.

"Well sir, we did ask our previous Lord to leave a few times. But he just vanished and hasn't come back." The waitress explains, "But that is all that has been suspicious going on so far, he just left everything. His house can't be missed."

"I see, thank you miss." Nate hands her a few coins which she gladly takes and hurries off.

A Lord disappearing and not coming back or sending for his possessions? Interesting.

He gets up and immediately heads for the Lord's house, it is usually never too hard to find a Lord's house. Taking a chicken wing with him to eat along the way.

Time to get investigating.

 

[Jane]

What's one little pint going to do? Don't be a bitch. Astra probably thinks you're a bitch. Nykios definitely thinks you're a bitch. They're going to take their favor and their forgiveness somewhere else if you don't drink this pint. So, really, this is in your best interest. Just don't get into another tavern brawl. And keep your clothes on. And no gambling--tonight. And flog yourself ten times for this pint tomorrow morning.

And, with that, Jane convinced herself to have a drink.

She let out a quick, shuddering sigh and closed her eyes and tipped her head back just so and brought the tankard to her lips and started outright chugging the mead. Her head tipped back further and the tankard higher as she plowed her way through the mead, and the patrons of the tavern switching from their chant to a collective "Ooooooohhhhhh...!" that was rising in pitch as the tankard lowered in its alcoholic contents.

A genial and rabble-rousing cheer went up once Jane finished the tankard and she gasped in an intensely satisfied way for air, having drunk the whole thing without stopping for a breath. She recoiled forward, as if struck from behind, and slammed the tankard down the counter.

BANG.

And nearly jumped out of her seat--that was far louder than she expected it to be.

Then, Dirty Dave, looking past her and toward the front door and calling out, "Mind the door, boy!"

Jane had both of her gaunleted hands on the bar counter, panting pleasurably, smiling delightfully, trying her best not to belch (uncouth: that'd make ten floggings into eleven) so she didn't see who old Dirty Dave was talking to. Didn't matter. The boy in question--man, truly--had come up to the bar more or less alongside her.

A barmaid walked behind Jane and past her with a plate of cooked meat in her hands for one of the quieter patrons. Then, Jane heard the newcomer man place his simple order: food and water. And water. WATER.

Jane slid slyly off of her stool and her smile turned to a sloppy grin and she sauntered over to the new man and (would have plopped an armored arm down on his shoulders, but alas he was standing and quite tall) reached up to hook a hard hand onto his left shoulder. Just casually invited herself into his space.

She looked up at him from the sides of her eyes. Said, "Water. You bothered to come all the way here for water? I'll tell you what you want, blue eyes. The best damn mead in all of Guillotine. Isn't that right, David?"

"That's damn right. And it's Dave."

"Look," Jane said to the new man. "I had a drink. Now you have a drink. It's only fair."

Dirty Dave, far from one to question the paladin's shoddy logic regarding fairness, was more than receptive to getting Titus a mead as opposed to some water. A little extra coin never hurt. To Titus: "Alright lad, what'll it be then? What you said, or what she said?"

And...faintly...very faintly...the slight acrid scent of something burning began to filter into the tavern. Mixing in with the aroma of other unpleasant scents.

* * * * *​

A few Guillotine townsfolk going about their business--heading to a neighbor's house or coming home from a shop or carrying a bucket of water fetched from one of the town wells--cast glances at Nathanael as he went down the streets. Some even touched with their palms the pommels of their sheathed swords and then raised two fingers to their brows as he came close and passed--a friendly little Guillotine greeting.

The scattered clouds above in the early evening sky were much like the homely buildings of Guillotine: patchy. Most buildings had simple wooden board repairs on windows and doors and walls, and some were outright dilapidated. Guillotine could never be mistaken for a place of wealth or prosperity, but the people who lived here loved it and called it home regardless.

Then.

Some distance ahead of Nate.

A trio of squat creatures scampered on all fours across the street, from one alley to the next, little blurs that were there and gone. Perhaps Nate caught good glimpses of them: roughly half his height, bipedal but scurrying on all fours anyway, with pointed tails, clawed hands and feet, and little horn protrusions from their heads. And, quietly, the three creatures had been chittering and snickering in a mischievous and sinister way.

Much like pests in one's home, this trio was only the hint of a greater infestation.

All across the town of Guillotine, the demons--both small and large--were surreptitiously spreading. Getting into position. Whether on the street level, across rooftops, or even underneath the ground itself.

It was their goal to attack everywhere. All at once.

Titus Phane Nathanael McCallister

 

[Titus Phane]

He felt the armored hand plop on his shoulder and looked over at the inebriated paladin. She was certainly a pretty one. He had met paladins before and got the impression they were the stuck up kind of religious, piety before pleasure, this one seemed to have a lower standard of piety for herself.
As a butler he offered her and Dave his most genial smile.
"I'm grateful for the offer, but I'm afraid one silver is all I'm able to spend on victuals here. I am willing and able to work if that's not enough to cover my humble order."
He looked at the smaller woman beside him, she was genuinely pretty, though her current state wasn't that attractive to him at the moment.
Her armor and insignias indicated that she is indeed a paladin, probably of the celestial order or even one of the templar.

"Also, I'm sure my constitution is far inferior to yours, Lady Paladin. No offence to this fine establishment or its drinks, may your barrels never run dry, but the taste of alcohol has never been a pleasant one for me."
He looked back at Dave and apologetically bowed his head.
"I've just traveled on foot from Dunderstahd to Guillotine and spent the night in the woods. I am willing to work for food and water if one silver isn't enough, but I do ask if you would kindly let me have my fill first before I get to work."
He looked up. The sense was getting stronger and there was a smell now. There was a definite darkness settling over the place, slowly and subtly. He could almost see the little shadows gathering around the tavern and all around the village itself.

He was always sensitive to such things, but he looked over at the paladin wondering why she didn't sense it too?
Probably the mead.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He'd faced spirits and his own demons before... But he'd never faced demons in the mortal realm itself.
His gaze darted around the tavern, picking out the most likely entry and exit points, then looked at the Paladin. At first his breathing quickened which caused his pulse to race, but then a calm fell over him as peace entered his mind and his faith overflowed.
His voice was a whisper.
"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death... I will fear no evil, for you are with me."
After that brief prayer he looked at Dave once more and began removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.
"If you don't mind, perhaps this butler can begin working for your fine establishment right now. I do need extra coin if I'm to think of purchasing a horse again."

Without even waiting for permission he jumped the bar and grabbed a broom, jumped back over and hurled it like a spear just as all the windows shattered and imps began screaming into the tavern. The broom caught one between the eyes and sent it flying back through the window it broke.
Titus wasn't far behind and caught the rebounding broom stick.
"We have unwanted guests. Let me help you clear them out."

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Nate looks up as he heard the chatter of the imps, they were a danger to this society. One that somewhat broke free from lordships of the other places within the known world. He unsheathes his silver sword and spins it in the air.

Much like the rats that crowded a merchant’s ship imps were everywhere in this town. But why? Imps usually did not crowd into one area unless there was something more terrible running about. Something which Nate will get to the bottom of once he dealt with these little beasties. The air was thick with their nastiness after all, might as well get some fresh air into this pit.

Within a few bounds he was overtop the giggling and chattering trio of imps and in a clean swipe of his sword they fall down dead, disappearing in puffs of smoke. The last one hanging in for a few seconds gasped, “Go tell your boss they better run.” Nate picks up the imp by the head looking into its eyes blankly, “Otherwise tonight may be their last in this plane of existence.” He tells it in demonic and crushes its head in his hand.

Some of the citizens watched the spectacle Nate looks at them before he heard a crash and sees the tavern had been broken into. No matter, they had a few capable bodies in that establishment.

Now to find the boss. He looks around for any trail of where the imps came from, a few men tried to join him but he waved them off. They had to protect the town, “But go and see if you can get that armored woman in the tavern, she might have better use out here than in the tavern fighting.” He tells them walking off.

The men look at each other before running off to the tavern to get the woman, and maybe her new demon friend. Meanwhile Nate followed the stench and trail of the imps, tracking them through the earth and through their vile smell. Following the strongest one, whomever that may be.

 

[Jane]

One silver.

Poor boy. Man. Young man. Damn it, Dave. Regardless, that was tragic. Absolutely tragic. Well, he could at least work for compensation, for the coin itself or the sustenance he would have purchased with it anyway. And, even now, even after being gone away from Cerak At'Thul and the Black Bay for over a year now, it was still a frankly peculiar concept to Jane: working, and getting paid for it. Paid for it. No shit, actually paid for it. The first time someone had offered her a little pouch of coins for slaying some errant ghouls around their homestead, Jane just looked at them blankly. Didn't know what to make of it.

But enough of that. Blue Eyes was going to get his mead before the day was done. Inferior constitution or no inferior constitution. And why did so many people call her Lady? Jane knew damn well what a paladin was--found that out the moment the Redeemer laid his blinding hand on her face--but what in the immortal hell was a Lady? It seemed like a title. It have something to do with the idea of "nobility"? That Mainland concept that was basically a changing of name, not all that different from a Master in Cerak? Eh. Maybe. For all she knew it was what these Mainlanders called female Captains--but she sure as shit wasn't a Captain.

"You want work?" asked Dave of Blue Eyes. "Sure. Wanted to go home earlier tonight anyhow."

"Or," Jane said, reaching into her own coin purse on her belt and producing a single gold coin and slapping it down to the counter, "you could take that gold there, Blue Eyes, and have yourself some food, some lodging, and a mead. But only if you get the mead."

"What's yer name?" Dave then asked of her.

"Jane."

"Well fuck you, Jane."

"Fuck you too, Dave," she said, feigning far more offensive than she actually felt.

"I just said I wanted to go home earlier tonight and...Are you praying, boy?"

Jane glanced back over and up at Blue Eyes. He was praying. Huh. What gods did he believe in? Jane herself had gone through some phases: first believing in no one but the Eunuch, then--after killing that prick and joining the Sisters--the pantheon of the Dark Ones, and now--after the Redeemer's touch--Celestialism and the Goddess Astra. Yet there were far more faiths scattered across Arethil, she knew.

He might have said it in a whisper, but Jane brashly repeated it out loud, "Valley of the shadow of death? Where the hell is that at?"

But, Blue Eyes spoke to Dave. Who replied, "Yeah, that's what I'm saying. Gowan then and work. If ya can't cook, ya can cle--"

Then everything kicked off. The genial drinking atmosphere of tavern plunged immediately into a melee not with the patrons, but demons. Demons.

Imps. Squat, infernal creatures of dark red or dark brown to drab gray leathery skin. Always grinning and baring their baleful teeth. They came smashing in through the windows (Dave, notably: "Fuckin' hell, I just got new glass for those!") and burning their way down into the tavern from the ceiling or up from the very floorboards themselves, leaving small singed rings where they had entered. And the small imps went immediately to savaging the patrons, tearing at them with teeth or claws and conjuring and lobbing palmfuls of hellfire at them and cackling maniacally as it all happened.

All the patrons of the tavern hastily drew their weapons, as did the small adventuring party Jane had come to Guillotine accompanying. One adventurer out of the four had the worst luck: slain by a hellfire-filled palm to the face before he even knew what was going on.

Jane scrambled for her heater shield, set down leaning against the bar, and drew her longsword. Blue Eyes had seemed to know--to just know--that they were coming. How did he do that? Would the Redeemer have known too?

Jane deflected one orb of hellfire with her shield and it burst into scattering embers and she ran an imp through with her sword. And the thing exploded into ash once slain! What? Where was the fun in that? No blood or body left over? Her smile faltered a little, but recovered. She, along with Blue Eyes and the rest of the tavern patrons, slew the brazen imps that had burst in against greater numbers. Yet even outnumbered the foul creatures had taken five men with them before all was said and done.

(Dave, wasting no time, shouted to his barmaid and his good friends who were patrons: "Get some water! Use the cheap beer if you have to! Put out them little fires!")

Not even a moment had passed since the sudden melee in the tavern did the door get thrown open. Jane whirled around to face it, shield raised and longsword ready, but it was men there, not demons.

And one of them, with particular glances to Jane and Blue Eyes, exclaimed, "There's demons! Demons all across the town!"

As if to underscore the man's words, a unified cry went up all across Guillotine. A gleeful, savage, devilish cry of battle and slaughter, as every demon all at once began to make themselves known and emerge from their hiding spots and launch their assault upon the townsfolk.

One of the other men from the group at the door, said to Jane, "You're a paladin, right? A Demon Hunter sent for you. Man with a wolf fur about his shoulders. You know him?"

Jane just grinned. "I'm about to."

Then, to Blue Eyes, "You know your way around a broom. Know your way around a sword, too?"

Wouldn't be hard to get one. Even if there weren't five dead men in the tavern now, there were probably a bunch of particular somebodies in Guillotine who walked around with a sword and a spare. While the adventurer group Jane accompanied was mourning their fallen friend, maybe Blue Eyes could have her back with that keen sense of his.

Titus Phane Nathanael McCallister

 

[Titus Phane]

All out combat broke loose in the tavern, demons jumped in from all sides like a swarm and Titus was quickly right in the middle of it in his rush to recover the broom. Imps had him surrounded and easily cut off from the rest of the patrons as they tried to attack him from all sides using claws and teeth.
Titus had to act quickly to keep the imps from getting behind him, he used the broom like a staff driving the imps off, but with their numbers one got bold and tried to tackle him. Titus turned it around on the imp and grabbed hold of it instead, using the broom handle to choke the demon while he used its body as a small shield and took the opportunity to walk in a "J" shape to the outside of the circle. Now the demons were all in front of him, one threw a fireball, striking the imp in his arms and turning it to dust.

Titus looked at the pile of dust at his feet, shrugged, and promptly used the broom to sweep the cloud if ashes into the faces of the imps, while they screamed and coughed he held his breath and narrowed his eyes as he proceeded to decimate their numbers, delivering solid strikes to the base of their little skulls, killing them outright.
This was going to be so much easier to clean up than trying to get blood out of the woodwork.

Before long the demons inside the tavern were dealt with, but even before men burst through the door he could sense the demons outside. This wasn't the first time that he'd seriously fought for his life, but it was the first time he'd physically killed a demon. From his experience he knew that their spirits were too durable to actually be killed, but physical bodies like this allow them to actually effect the world and in turn it meant the world can effect them.
That being said... Fighting spiritual creatures was much easier than physical ones.

The fighting was out all over the village now, they asked him how he was with a sword and in all honesty he was more skilled with his hands than a sword, though he has been learning and has a small level of proficiency. He picked up a longsword off the floor that belonged to one of the fallen patrons, he gave the man a silent salute before leaving the tavern with Jane.
"Seems we'll be fighting together for the now, miss Jane. For ease of communication you can call me Titus instead of Blue Eyes."
He made a careless gesture with his new sword, and an imp that was rushing by accidentally caught his eye on the blade, the poor creature turned to dust right in front of them leaving Titus blinking in confusion. These little imps were small fry, far too weak to be the main threat. The villagers were dealing with them just fine, even if they had the advantage of fireballs... Almost too late, he sensed something much more powerful baring down on them from above.

He grabbed hold of Jane's breastplate and pulled her to the side and under him as he pulled them both out of the way with a lunge to the ground. A Large winged creature made impact, its hooves in the soft dirt where they previously stood, sending up a cloud of dust around it. A huge bull headed demon with red eyes peered through the raining debris at the two people he narrowly missed.

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Nate walked through the brush away from the town, the hair on the back of his neck prickling, and his senses heightened even more as he approached the stench. He'd soon smell the sweet smell of a dead corpse, just killed a few hours previously.

Quietly he'd watch a demon, holding the neck of what he assumed was the lord in her whip as more imps poured out of the portal to Hell.

Lords, mostly all the same, greedy bastards. Nate lets out an inaudible sigh, Too blind to know that demons take their contracts to the letter.

He'd look at his odds, a lot of little imps and one succubus. But he knew that more powerful demons may or may not come from that portal. Something which he would rather not risk.

He'd have to go for the source of it all and finish her off quickly.

Holding the hilt of his sword in his hand Nate takes a deep breath and with lightning speed he charges the monster, producing a low sweep of his blade.

That woman better get here soon otherwise the whole town will be overrun and no one will be left of it.

 

[Jane]

He had a hell of way of fighting, Blue Eyes--Titus--did. Jane halfway thought that he ought to keep the broom as a backup weapon. Whether broom or sword or whatever else graced his hands, he would have made for a terrifying Master back in Cerak At'Thul. Not like the Eunuch, who preferred to let his overseers handle the heavy lifting. If Titus had been her Master, Jane reckoned she'd still be in chains, cutting boards and building ships, her only refuge the fantasy of murdering him.

Out of the tavern they went.

And the street Dirty Dave's tavern was on featured its own scattered pockets of chaos and fighting. All those same townsfolk Nathanael had passed earlier were engaged, some down, some wounded, others swiping furiously at aggravatingly agile imps, others ushering their children and their wounded fellows to safety, others finishing their fights and rushing to the aid of men and women holding back small gaggles and even large gangs of the swarming imps.

"Oh fuck me," Jane said in a tone that sounded actually impressed to a degree, spinning around for a moment to witness the carnage both up and down the street. (Also, add another flogging to the current tally.)

One of the men who had been sent by Nathanael to summon her--a man with a damn near dwarven beard and balding head, whose name was George--said to her and Titus, "Come on! This way! That Demon Hunter and you and this lad oughta find where these beasties are comin' from. Do some real good. We Guillotiners can hold our own in the meantime, bet your ass on it!"

"Consider it bet, then," Jane said, hurrying along with Titus (who made an awful fine kill with his newly acquired sword, mind) after him.

They were making good time and good ground. On the way, Jane smacked with her shield an evasive imp back onto a Guillotiner's sword and the creature shrieked and burst into ash. The Guillotiner tipped her a two-finger salute as she and Titus and George passed.

Then something unexpected happened.

Titus lunged on her. Took her by the breastplate and down they went to the ground, in a tangle that fortunately didn't leave Titus impaled on her sword or his head bashed upon her shield. And Jane just grinned in an accepting, Well alright then fashion. Quite the literal one, Titus, wasn't he? Given what she'd said moments ago. Ah, how many floggings was this going to be worth? A Sisters of the Citadel style copulation in the middle of a desperate and frantic melee, with reckless abandon not only for their own lives but the lives of everyone else around them? Astra might be forgiving, but the Redeemer would be pissed.

No. Wait. No, no, no, not a good idea. That's right. Don't forget. The Seal of Nykios. Can't. Can't.

"Can't," Jane said aloud.

Then it became abundantly clear why Titus had did what he did. A demon that most certainly was not an imp crashed down where once they had been, the force and wind of its landing knocking George and his two fellows off of their feet and down to the ground as well.

Jane stood when she got the chance. Let go of the front strap on her heater shield, the back strap keeping it to her forearm. And she laid her hand on Titus's back, and said the words, "May the Blessing of Drakon be upon you!"

Her hand flashed and glowed and that light seeped into Titus; the Blessing of Drakon, a temporary boost to his natural strength and speed, would flow in. And Jane was damn curious--invested--to see what he could do with it.

She raised up shield against Bull-headed Demon. Kept it raised as she charged forward, sliding her Celestial longsword out from behind the shield's protection in a thrust at the demon's massive chest.

* * * * *​

Hyatta saw a flash of movement. And not a moment too soon!

She tossed one of the freshly arrived imps at the sword coming her way, and at the same time she hopped back. With a majestic unfurling of her leathery wings she leapt up and hovered high above the ground. Her whip unraveled itself from about Lord Greyfell's fat neck and slithered back up into a coil by its handle. The portal closed, severing the last imp who tried crawling through in half. Oh, but it was soon to close anyway. It had almost--just almost--reached its climax. It was like edging for portals--how delectable.

Hyatta tittered and hovered in the air and snapped a coy hand up straight and flat, like a shelf to rest her chin on, and stared down at the morsel below her with the wolf-fur armor. The dozen or so imps that had been the last crossovers into Arethil turned from their running toward the town proper and descended on Nathanael. Hyatta spoke in the meantime:

"Oh, ho, ho, ho!" Her tone was excited, balefully playful, and fast. "You didn't even say 'pardon' for your interruption. How rude. I could forgive you, though. Hm, hm, hm! But first, business before pleasure. This whole town was promised to me, sweetie! I'm just collecting what was agreed upon, can't you see? I'm the innocent one here."

Hyatta, hovering, cast a purposefully wistful glance over the town of Guillotine.

"Oh, but if you insist on being boorish, then let's play a game! Hide and seek! I needed to go and find my bodyguard anyway. Why, I'm afraid I've misplaced him, eager little thing! My dearest Trenk, abandoning me to go and have all the fun of the festival I invited him to."

A last smirking glance to the morsel--she didn't anticipate her imps would be able to keep him occupied for much longer.

"Come and find me and we can have our delightful...hmmmmm...tussle."

And with that, Hyatta gave a mighty flap of her wings and sailed over the town of Guillotine and descended down and disappeared among the buildings.

Titus Phane Nathanael McCallister

 

[Titus Phane]

Titus had shielded Jane from the falling debris with his body, he doubted she needed it but it was his first instinct in the face of danger. As a butler he had been trained and made it his duty to protect those in his charge with his very life if need be. But a glance at Jane's face after looking at the bull headed demon told her she initially got the wrong idea, which he found a little odd that was the first thing the paladin thought of when he ended up on top of her.

She got up and placed her hand on him while he recovered his feet himself.
A blessing from Drakon? well, him and the celestials didn't get along very well, so he just had to wait and see how long it took for the primal celestial to realize his paladins blessing was given to a heretic. Besides that, he still cringed, he disliked the use of magic himself and made it a point to not rely on it. But he couldn't reverse the spell now, so he just had to make the best of it. Strength was poured into his muscles as the light entered his own body.

He felt the spiritual presence within him, but it seemed to be dwarfed by the light that already glowed within.

He stood up and joined Jane in her charge against the bull demon. Her holy sword flashed out, but from the left he saw a huge fist break out of the dust screen. Time to test the strength of the primal celestial. He planted his foot, turned his blade, and braced for the impact. The fist connected with Titus, he boots making trenches in the soft dirt, but he maintained his stance and absorbed the force of the strike.
Titus's sword didn't fare so well, the blade snapping without doing any damage to the demon. The demon was immune to the casual weapon.
But still he held the fist even as he felt the strength of Drakon slipping out of his body, being pushed out by the light within him.
Hopefully this was enough to allow Jane to deal a fatal blow, provided the demon didn't swing his other fist...
"Jane, look out!"

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Nate looked a bit tired, why did succubus always have to make things so weird in the first place? Well, that was their profession he supposed.

Sweetie.

That bitch also called him sweetie, something which only his mom called him. Oh, she was going to get it. He bats off the remaining imps, allowing a small opening which he used to his advantage. Another demon, her bodyguard. He'd have to worry about two of them, but right now his goal was set on the more intimate danger of the succubus. He had to cut off the snake's head before it reared its fangs onto more of the town.

"Damn you damn succubus." He growls now full-on sprinting back to the town, an easy feat for him as he was faster than normal humans and it didn't take much out of him because of his stamina. But he would have rather not play cat and mouse within all the chaos of the town.
-----
When Nate reaches town he sees the bull demon, but no sign of the succubus yet. He also sees that woman and that young man fighting it. He'd watch them fight it for a second before jumping behind demon's back and piercing his sword deep into its leg, with a simple slash he slashes his weapon out of the beast's leg. Causing a grotesque and greeves gash on its leg.

"Try to cut its hamstrings, it won't be able to move well," Nate tells them taking a few deep breaths to catch his own. "Then we can finish it and focus on the succubus running around here somewhere."

 

[Jane]

The very first thing Jane did when her Celestial longsword found purchase in the demon's thick chest wasn't to prepare for a counterattack or even a follow-up of her own. No. When the Bull-headed Demon sneered and growled in a wincing pain as the holy blade penetrated its demonic flesh...Jane shuddered. Gasped in a mild enjoyment. Guilty little twists of her eyebrows and a shaky smirk then.

Jane, look out!

Titus. He said it.

Fist. No, the other fist. The one titus wasn't holding back.

Jane's pleasure flashed in an instant into a scowl as she raised her shield and the Demon's fist collided with it. She--having only the strength of a mortal woman despite the bestowments of her paladinhood--was launched clear across the width of the street and slammed into the boarded up window of a home. The planks cracked and bent, but she didn't go tumbling inside, instead slid down the wall and back onto her feet. The goddamn bloody wind was knocked out of her, she felt some nasty whiplash from the impact, stars had burst to life before her eyes in a fast fading display of violent white, but otherwise she was alright. Thanks to the eagle eyes of Blue Eyes Titus there. Or. Maybe just him paying the attention she should have been paying.

And then came the man of the hour. The Demon Hunter himself. Well, that's just what George and his fellows had called him. What he really was, besides a wolf's worst nightmare, was anybody's guess.

But he knew his way around a sword too. Good. And his blade, like Jane's, could damage the powerful demon. Even better. Titus's mundane sword had a rough go of it, but he was doing well enough holding the demon at bay with the Blessing of Drakon.

Cut the hamstrings. Ah, Jane had her guess! The "Demon Hunter" was actually a humble butcher, specializing in rare cuts of meat. There were a few of those crazy bastards she knew of making a living around Cerak; they could cut and cook any damn thing that breathed or swam.

"You got a name, Wolf Man?" Jane called out when she had the breath.

The Demon was reeling after the Wolf Man's rending of its leg. Jane swept her sword out and readied a Smite, divine energy akin to golden lightning rippling down the length of the blade. She charged forward again, spread her legs and weaved her upper body to bob around a flailing arm of the Demon, then slashed her sword into the Demon's uninjured leg. An explosive burst of holy energy, harmful only to Jane's favored enemies, blew off the Demon's leg at the knee, leaving it hobbled and having to support itself with a hand on the ground.

The Demon roared, and Jane laughed gleefully.

"Hey, Wolf Man, that the ham--?"

The Bull-headed Demon drew in a huge inhalation and belched out a torrent of hellfire at Jane.

Titus Phane Nathanael McCallister

 

[Titus Phane]

It definitely wasn't his style to go toe to toe with a creature far larger and stronger than himself. For one, it was rather idiotic to try and catch a punch from ANYONE. But he took advantage of the meager strength he was given, and now that it was gone he was left to his own devices once more.
The bull pulled its fist back so he let go. He only had a foot of blade left on his sword and nothing readily available to replace it.

The demon hunter and Paladin effectively crippled the beast limiting its movement significantly and splattering demon blood all over him, but in doing so they practically doubled its level of danger. The beast was in a rage, thrashing its hulking arms while doing its best to move around on one leg before it finally just went to its knees to move. The strategy was good, the question they faced now was, "where do we go from here?"
He had a third of his sword left and its petty steel wasn't enough to harm the demon like the holy sword and the silver blade could...
But he wasn't out of options yet.

The bull spewed a savage torrent at Jane. He wasn't anywhere near her to remove her from danger, in fact the only thing he was still close to was the demon itself. Jane would have to handle herself, but he could still help.
He gripped the remains of his sword in both hands. The demon wasn't paying attention to him, the torrent of fire roaring right over his head. He had time to do what little he still could.
He calmed his breathing focusing his mind on the blade, focusing his spirit. The light of the creator was within him, which, even though he was but a humble servant, made him more than a conqueror.
The people of the Eastern continent have made an art of fighting with their spirit, and he was told his spirit was incredibly strong.

He took a final deep breath and opened his eyes. When facing creatures of darkness, only the pure light of the creator can banish them. That light lived within him.
He looked up and saw his target, the exposed and distended jugular of the demon bull belching flames.
He charged forward and leapt, as he brought the broken blade into a strike he let out a fierce shout, a shout that focused the light of his spirit into the blade, lengthening it back into the sword it was, and channeling the power of his soul into the singular thrust through the soft underside of the demons throat.

The jaws were clamped shut, a blade of light protruded from the top of the demons skull. Its eyes rolled back in its head. This creature didn't turn to dust immediately, which was unfortunate for Titus who, one; found himself about to fall to the ground with a demon falling on top of him. And two; the clamped jaws that stopped the stream of fire were now about to erupt in an explosion right in his face if he didn't do something.
He pushed off the beasts chest with his boots and let go of the sword embedded in the beasts skull, but that was about all he could do before the head exploded, turning his world into one of fire and darkness.

Titus flew over the rooftops and fell to the ground in a cloud of smoke quite a ways away from the rest, his shirt on fire and his face and hair quite thoroughly singed. His hands and chest sporting bad burns as he lay unconscious.

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

“Nate!” Nate responds to Jane’’s question and watched as Titus finished drove a weapon into the demon’s jaws. But at a cost to himself.

The horrid smell of roasted hair and he saw the demon collapse with its jaws held shut by a blade. Nate looked over to Titus and sees him on the ground unconscious. He knew no magic, he had some herbs that might help. But the town needed to be saved, that succubus was probably feasting on promises also, and souls.

He’d approach the body of the demon and drive his sword into its heart, causing the demon to crumble away and eventually smoke away. He’d then rush over to Titus and look at Jane, “Do you have any spells or something to help him?!” He yells as a group of imps charged at the two of them forcing the monster hunter to charge at them and hack them in half, “There’s a succubus somewhere in this town, we need to take care of him fast before it gets more of a chance to reap benefits from that promise it made with the previous lord.” He tells Jane, “Or we’d have to hide him away.” He did not look too happy at the thought.

 

[Jane]

A snap reflex, and Jane had her shield raised; the Redeemer and his drills, his training which she had loathed at the time, paying off well here. The rim of her heater shield glowed with shimmering white light as she willed into being the protection of her Holy Shield skill, Jane taking a knee to lower her profile as much as she could to maximize the effectiveness of her sanctuary. She pressed her forehead against the back of her shield and clenched her teeth and the Demon's hellfire nipped at the edges of her armor left exposed.

And there she braced, mostly engulfed by the Demon's infernal breath.

But it didn't last long. The last roaring waves of hellfire washed over Jane, diverted by her Holy Shield, and the town around her became visible again after the veil of flame ceased. Steam rose from the front of her shield, a dozen or so wispy tendrils of it. Over the top glowing edge of her shield, she stole a peek.

She heard it before she saw it, the hell of a licking Titus took; heard the heavy THUMP of the explosion (that had once been the Demon's Bull head) and saw the man himself go sailing over the horizon of rooftops before disappearing from her view.

Wolf Man Nate made sure the headless Demon didn't grow his damned head back, impaling it through the heart and finishing the big bastard--who, akin to the imps, became nothing but ash and smoke upon death and crumbled into oblivion.

Jane stood. Swore, "Shit," and followed after Nate. Good eye, like Titus. Saw where Blue Eyes himself had landed--he had just about gotten the miniature tour of Guillotine, flying over those rooftops like that. But there he was, laying half in an alley and half in a street. Fortunately, he was about an arm's length from one of the many puddles scattered about the uneven cobblestone streets of Guillotine. Jane sheathed her sword (Nate had her covered) and splashed some collected rainwater on the small dancing flames on his shirt and then patted them out--maybe a little rougher than she needed to be on the patting part.

Do you have any spells or something to help him?!

"One," Jane said. "And just this one for the day."

Then, to Titus--even though he looked rather incapable of hearing it--she said with the ghost of a smile, "Hey. Titus. No one around here gets to hurt you but me. And you still owe me a mead. You drinking one, that is."

Only fair. She was tipsy, he ought to be tipsy. Nate too for that matter, what was he doing, sneaking around and not drinking. Fun loved to be spread around.

Jane laid her free hand upon Titus's chest then, fingers spread, and invoked the words, "May the Blessing of Metisa be upon you!" And a humble influx of healing energy would flow into him, if his body accepted it; Jane was no cleric or healer, so her invocation of Metisa's favor was not quite as potent as their magicks, nor could she cast it nearly as many times in a single day. But it was all she could offer.

Hopefully it would be enough. If not, then Nate would be right, and they could only hide him away.

* * * * *​

George, meanwhile, had recovered from the Bull-Headed Demon's landing and subsequent forceful death. He had aimed to follow after the paladin and the Demon Hunter, but he was stopped by one of his fellow Guillotiners. Then another. Then another.

Three different men--fine, upstanding folks, and good friends or amiable acquaintances--all coming to him and telling him of different situations across the town. Places that had been hit hard by the demons, and the Guillotiners pushed back.

George cursed, then he and his group of men belatedly followed after the Demon Hunter and the paladin. When he came to them, he saw the paladin healing the injured butler from Dave's, and the Hunter finishing the last of a pack of imps.

"Demon Hunter!" George said to Nate, coming to a skidding stop. The men behind him swatted with their swords at some imps that crawled along the walls of homes. "There's big trouble about the town, bigger than these bugger imps! Trouble suited to you and your lot! Hear me, if you would!"

Titus Phane Nathanael McCallister

 

[Titus Phane]

Again it was as if the gods realized their blessing was given to one who's defied them. The burns receded from second degree to first degree, but then stopped short of healing him completely. Titus remained unconscious, his shirt was charred and burned off him revealing the red skin beneath, the burns would heal over time, but he will have quite a few scars from it.

He was motionless on the surface aside from unconscious breathing and heartbeat, but in his mind was a whole different story.

Spoiler: otherworldly dreams

Titus found himself in a garden, he recognized this garden as his soul, he'd been here many times when he was under attack by spiritual forces.
He looked around, all the flowers were blooming and healthy, the fountains produced clear water and the sky was clear with a shining sun.

But not all was right, for he wasn't alone in this garden. A small woman dressed in mages robes stood on the path, and all around her the flowers wilted.
Metisa.
Titus approached her but stopped about fifteen feet away.
The small goddess looked sadly at the flowers around her.
"How come every time I come here you're flowers wither?"
Titus met her gaze evenly when she looked at him with a pout, "Because you're not welcome here."
Metisa bent down to examine a red rose, but it blackened when she got close and brightened when she drew away.
"Why? Don't you want Jane's help? She's really trying to save you."

Titus shook his head, "I hold nothing against your servant. But my God has decreed that I rely on no other god but Him. His grace is sufficient for me, please leave."
Metisa narrowed her eyes at him, "You follow a god you don't even know exists! I'm here and I'm willing to help you, all you have to do is accept me as your god and pledge your soul to me, I'll heal your wounds and get you back up and fighting in no time!"
She wasn't used to mortals staring back at her so boldly, they were supposed to tremble in awe and fear at the presence of a real god! But not Titus, he had his own God that he revered as above the gods... ABOVE the gods! a God that is more powerful than THEM!?!?
She shook in rage at the offense, the slight, the simple gall this mortal had to defy her so callously!

But what stung the most is she knew exactly who he was talking about, and she knew he knew she knew. She stomped her foot in silent rage. Because she also knew she couldn't do anything to him, she couldn't even curse him because of his God.
"Fine! But just know that my wrath is against you, you will never find happiness for as long as you live! The other gods feel the same way and their blessings will never touch you again!"
Titus laughed... LAUGHED at a GOD!
"Tell me something I don't already know, pretender! I asked nicely before, but I'm done. In the name of the creator and his son... LEAVE!"
She vanished, and so did the garden, the dream ended.

After Jane finished with the healing spell it was apparent that he was plagued by visions. His lips moved and his eyes squeezed tightly. It was apparent that he wasn't waking up anytime soon.

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

"I'm going to head out with these guys so hunt down the big one." He tells Jane as she casts a spell, though she was a bit tipsy. Once the young man didn't move, his attention would then turn towards Goroge, "Let me guess its the succubus. I suppose this was her bodyguard." Nate growls as he motions to George to show him where the situation was.

"Unless there is another high standing demon running about?" He'd look at George. Either way, he would go after the demon or whatever extreme creature was now tormenting the town.

 

[Jane]

Well, Jane did know that she wasn't as good at curing injury as she was at causing it. She tried. By Astra, and coincidentally by Metisa as well, she tried. If the Goddesses wanted her to heal more, then they would have made allowances for her to do so. Hear that, Nykios? Back off with that Seal.

Titus still had a heartbeat, though--Jane could feel it under her palm. And the burns were made to be not so bad, considering. He just hadn't been roused. Nothing she could do about that.

"Not coming around?" Jane asked the unconscious Titus. "You're not coming around." Looked like hiding him away was the only plan now.

Meanwhile, George spoke with Nathanael. Shook his head. Said, "Haven't seen any succubus yet." (One of the gathered men behind him: "Damn, wish I had.") "But here's what I've been told."

Spoiler: The Lumbermill

"Got the Lumbermill just outside of town, on the south end. Old Man Hatry came runnin' faster than I ever seen him go before, said to me there's an Infernal Imp there burning down everything! Big son of a bitch too, big as that Bull Demon or bigger, and tossing around fire like there ain't no tomorrow. And it'll come to town itself soon enough."

Spoiler: Ymir's Tavern

"And worse yet, Ymir's Tavern got overrun! Just up the street here! Hordes of imps, and my good friend Batten said that he saw some armored demons popping up inside--armored like your paladin friend there, save in all black. Ymir herself didn't make it out--don't know if they got her trapped in there, holding her, or if she's dead like the rest of 'em. Fuckin' Dave'll be happy on that last one."

Spoiler: Fountain in Town Square

"Last, the fountain in town square turned red! Changed water into blood! Blacksmith Telford said so! And he also said there's this big mouthed, one-eyed, floating...nightmare creature guarding it. That thing and its own little swarm of imps, mind. Don't know what the hell the demons' are planning on doing there, but I sure as hell don't like it."

And George said after he laid these out, "Whatever you think's the worst spot, go there, Demon Hunter. I can scrape together some Guillotiners and try at the other two. We're a damned rowdy and rough bunch, but we ain't no Demon Hunters--we'll do our level best."

Jane, her Holy Shield strapped about her left forearm, reached down and--with the neighborly aid of one of George's fellow Guillotiners--picked Titus up; one arm held around her shoulders, the other arm around the Guillotiner's. Titus was a big boy, so his feet would be dragging along the street some. The Guillotiner suggested they take him to Dave's, and Jane nodded.

To Nate, she said, "Hey! Nate. Wherever you're going, I'll meet you there. I haven't had the chance to see you bleed yet, so don't think you're rid of me that easily."

She flashed him a big, earnest grin. Demon slaying was fun, sure, but seeing your allies take a wallop to the mouth and watching a delicious dribble of blood streak down their chin...ah, that was something else. If Nate managed to dodge all those demon punches by the time this was done, maybe a little accident, a wild fist gone awry, could happen. Oooo...that'd be something else.

She was already due for some floggings anyway. A few more to her tally wouldn't hurt. Well, they would, but metaphorically speaking.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

​

• Foiling the specific demon incursions will weaken Hyatta's master plan in unique ways.

Titus Phane Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Nate shot a death glare at exactly who said they had seen the succubus, "Be happy with what you have in this plane human. It did not end well for your previous Lord as you can see around you." He warns him listening to George list off what was occurring in town.

The lumber was important to the people, they needed it to survive with winter coming eventually. These were rough people, but they weren't immune to the toils of winter. But even the But he had no magic.

The tavern... was not as important as much as he hated saying it. If they were saying what they did, then Ymir was more than likely already dead, unfortunately.

The fountain was interesting as well, the water turning to blood? Interesting indeed.


The lycan smiles and nods at Jane as she and another took Titus away, "Go take care of the fire demons torching The Lumbermill outside of town! These people will have a harder winter without it!" He tells her, "If I do get injured you can treat me yourself!" He finishes and heads off for the blood fountain.

"George, half your men with the Palladian. They're gonna need it, rest of you with me. We're going to the fountain." He decided it would be best to take the worse of the three evils. A tavern could be repaired, but a lumbermill and the fact the fountain was an unknown he had to go there.

 

[Titus Phane]

Coincidence was on their side and Titus awoke in their arms before being dragged back to Dave's. But everything was swimming and his head erupted in painful explosions. He groaned as he squeezed his eyes shut, even that darkening day was too bright for his thoroughly dazzled eyes to handle.
He felt the paladins armor plates under one and the shoulders of a village man under the other. He hissed at the pain in his eyes and forced himself to look around.

The village was still under attack, but it seemed everyone was still fighting valiantly, so he must not have been out for long.
As he looked around suddenly the pain of everything else hit him all at once, nearly doubling him over in their arms. The burns and scars that only partially healed were punishing him mercilessly.
He cried out in pain, it seemed everything hurt, even the touch of those helping him, but the pain did bring his mind back in focus.
"Aaaaugh! Damn! I guess that means I'm alive... How long was I out... What's the situation?"
He was able to somewhat get his feet under him but he still relied heavily on their support.

 

[Jane]

If I do get injured you can treat me yourself!

"Ha! I'll hold you to it!"

Well, seemed Nate wanted to head off on his own. Oh sure, perhaps it made Nykios and Tychan happy that they were being strategic and trying to thwart two incursions at once, but...Jane really wanted to see him bleed. She never felt like she truly knew someone until she did. And it was even better if she was the proximate cause of said bleeding.

Hm. Here's to hoping he had a rough but manageable go at the fountain. Imagine it. Meet up with him again all battle-scarred. Get him drunk. Lick his wounds. The usual.

And speaking of battle-scarred. Blue Eyes Titus came around. Right as Jane and the Guillotiner helping her were about to turn down the street and hike his ass back to Dave's. Good. Spared them the trip.

Jane kept a steadying hand on Titus's back, and the Guillotiner cautiously let Titus go as he found his footing. George, meanwhile, shouted to the men gathered 'round and picked out those who were going to go with him and Nate to the fountain.

Jane said, "Welcome back, Blue Eyes. I'm no cleric, so you're still a bit like a pig's flank on a spit-roast. I'll bash the next demon I see extra hard for you."

She glanced about. George and Nate were moving out; other Guillotiners ran past, some with swords drawn and others without; things in their small pocket of Guillotine were relatively calm, but the sounds of fire and battle were elsewhere throughout the town.

"You weren't out long, Titus. And we're going to the Lumbermill on the south end of town. Big Infernal Imp there. Heh, more fire, sorry." The word sorry sounded like it was anything but. "Can you walk? Fight? Are you up for it?"

* * * * *​

The town square of Guillotine was a modest thing. Perhaps the only place out of the town that actually showed the efforts of diligence in keeping the cobblestones of the ground clean.

Only, said cobblestones would be clean, if not for the bodies of a few fallen Guillotiners and the soot and ash drifting down into the square from the adjacent homes set ablaze by the imps which pranced about and gleeful torched what they could.

The Cacodemon floated like a baleful sentinel above the fountain; a blood-red sphere of a demon with a wide mouth and a single large eye and horns atop its brow. Hovered and watched as the fountain's marble spire, enchanted with simple elemental magic, spewed blood instead of water that ran down the carved spire and dripped into the circular base.

And, one by one in a surprisingly orderly fashion (perhaps the stern presence of the Cacodemon had something to do with this), an imp would wander up to the fountain and drank of the tainted blood.

Then collapse and writhe and morph into a man-sized, spiny, Feral Imp, empowered and made to frenzy by the foul blood of the fountain.

Titus Phane Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Nate put his heels into the dirt sitting to a stop, he was covered in demon blood and some got into his eyes as he killed them on the way here. Big nasty feral imps.

He needed to destroy the fountain somehow. So he wipes his finger in the wet blood on his face, takes out a slip of paper, and writes an exorcist's mark onto it. Throwing it into the air it floats to the fountain following the wind, weaving through the imps and people fighting until eventually, it would land on the fountain.

He'd look over and rush at one of the imps drinking water. driving his blade in between its eyes. Nate then turns around and tackles one of the feral imps to the ground, rolling onto his feet. It was about to charge at some of the townsfolk running for their lives. Hopefully, they make it out of this bloodbath safely.

His heart was racing and the strong scent of all the races blood, it still meant food for his primal side right? Without giving another thought the hunter runs at the imp as it gets up and slashes it across the belly,

"Instead of heading after weak townsfolk why not go after someone more powerful hellspawn." He growls at it in demonic chuckling as he wipes the blood off his blade with his sleeve.

It would take a bit more to end these feral creatures, and he would rather keep his back not open for attack by going in for the kill so quickly.

 

[Titus Phane]

"Can you walk? Fight? Are you up for it?"

Titus was still in wracking pain, even the breeze felt like fire on his skin, but he was far from out of the fight... What was a little more fire, right?
He waved his blistered hand dismissively.
"I'm fine, just give me something to fight with. Those demons won't kill themselves, though that would be kinda nice wouldn't it?"
He chuckled painfully at his own bad joke as George handed him a sword.

Still, he had to stop and ask himself... What was he doing?! Risking his life for these people when he had a mission? If he died here then his mistress may die, if she wasn't dead already which he told himself was impossible.
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, he helped because that's just who he was, the kind of man he chose to be. His mistress would want nothing less from him.

He slowly recovered his feet and balance, even though every muscle screamed at him he forced himself to move in the direction of the lumber mill unaided.

 

[Jane]

Jane chuckled. Imagine that, a demon falling on its own sword. Would Jane still get credit for that? If she was in the vicinity when it happened? Certainly Astra and Nykios (and not to mention the most immediate and looming figure of all: the Redeemer) wanted her to go marching around and slaying them and her other favored foes where she found them. It had to count, right? It had to count.

Regardless. George had Titus covered, before he went running off with Nate to the fountain in the town square.

And Jane ran at a trot with Titus toward the Lumbermill.

* * * * *​

The Guillotiners were damn hard men and women, and they were holding their own in the streets and mostly so throughout the town--save for those three areas hit the hardest. Jane and Titus's brief run to the south periphery of town was uninterrupted by sneaky imps or imposing Bull-heads.

A giant plume of black smoke rose up from the Lumbermill, the entire structure engulfed in flame; some piles of cut timber and logs on the outside were so far spared, but might not be for long if the demons got their way.

And there he was: the Infernal Imp. A lanky but twelve-foot tall version of the grinning menaces harassing the town. Its skin was bright red, and fire writhed about its hands and on the top of its head. About its neck...an amulet. The center gem of the amulet glowing (absorbing the power of the fiery destruction nearby and becoming charged).

Jane's shield still glowed with Holy protection, and she reckoned she was going to need it.

A glance to Titus, and she said, "I'll grab the big bastard's attention." Then she smirked. "You got burned. Now I get burned. It's only fair, right?"

She had no damn intention of getting burned in the name of fairness, so that was a joke if she ever did tell one. Still, Titus popped that Bull-headed Demon's head quite handily, so if he had an opening here he could do some good damage.

Jane charged forward, shield raised. The Imp turned and noticed her approach. Laughed maniacally and launched fireball after fireball at her, her shield absorbing some of the impacts and deflecting the swarming embers of what remained. She started side-stepping and circling around the Imp, trying to get it to turn its back on Titus.

* * * * *​

The Cacodemon's eye snapped to Nathanael when it saw him.

And, hovering in place still over the fountain, it opened its huge mouth and shot out pink, crackling orbs of hellish energy--condensed essence of pain. Should it connect with flesh, brief agony so terrible that one wished the orbs were lethal.

George swore and he and his men dashed for cover around the buildings of the square, hacking away at any of the smaller imps as they went.

Nathanael McCallister Titus Phane