Vale Sadar had survived more conflict, pain, and loss than most who had lived. That's what he has always been best at, surviving when others don't. Through tribal conflict, hostile men of the crown, and even nature itself; it seemed like the gods were ranged against Vale. He looked around and wondered if this might be his final fight.
Terrian had brought them to this place, a graveyard and shrine to Beryllus's faithful; it had long since been reclaimed by the wild forests of Damocles. Though its glory had been diminished somewhat by time, it was not abandoned; a company of devils had claimed it in the name of their cursed patrons.
They had come here for Decius Maximillian, ambassador of the Emperor Otto von Faulken and lapdog of Count Pieter von Berchtold. His location had finally been discerned by the Kingdom and now His Majesty's Inquisition had tasked them with ending this treachery. At least, they would attempt to end this treachery or die alone and forgotten, either looked fairly likely right about now.
Vale sucked in air through gritted teeth. The devil's glaive had taken a large chunk of flesh from his side; he was almost certain that the blow had cracked a rib and he winced with each step. His blood flowed and he was horrified to note that it wouldn't stop bleeding and had taken on the appearance of black tar.
He put the pain far from his mind. He was determined. The distance between him and the Erinyes rapidly closed.
When he reached the first he felt a small tinge of regret as the force of his punch dislocated the jaw of what seemed to be a beautiful, raven haired woman; she would have been exquisite if her features weren't deliberately marred with ritual scarring. The blow took her off of her feet; Vale maintained his momentum, stomping on her throat hard and, with a quick twist of his foot, snapped her neck with a loud crack.
He frowned as her tongue lolled out of her mouth and her eyes became distant, ashen wings twitching slightly. He almost didn't see the blade coming as another capitalized on his moment of hesitation. He barely deflected the sword off his heavy gauntlets and he cursed at himself for his stupidity.
One down, three to go
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Harold Vyxr hated it here. Until recently, he had never had to deal with the creatures that had polluted his bloodline. As a tiefling, he had dealt with adversity his entire life and struggled against his darker nature. The only friends he had ever known had been his instructors at the Institute, as they truly appreciated his talent despite his devil-blood; his peers, however, ostracized him and spoke of him as if he was the same as the creatures he is descended from.
Until recently, he thought of them as bigots; that they were jealous of his talent and his rapidly growing power. He understood their hate now, he understood why they avoided him.
Most terrifying of all though, was Decius Maximillian. Decius was barely recognizable, he stood in front of the desecrated shrine to Beryllus. His skin looked like it belonged to one of the Bearded Devils that they had been fighting, it sat strangely on his body, as if it was slightly loose. Vyxr locked eyes with the foul sorcerer and shivered at the stark raving madness he saw there; this thing was an abomination and needed to die, there was no doubt about it.
He scanned the frenetic melee that raged around him and saw Terrian battling six cultists on his own, the fire burned in his eyes as he shrugged off blow after blow, never taking his attention fully away from Maximillian lest he disappear once again.
Harold Vyxr spoke a few words of power and a swath of cultists burst into flames, screaming in agony as they died. A path from Terrian to Decius was now clear, Harold began analyzing the battlefield once more, though failing to see one of the Erinyes loosing an arrow at him. The impact nearly took him off his feet, he looked down at his chest and was horrified to see blood oozing around a thick shaft buried deep in his torso. Two more arrows sent him sprawling onto the stone floor. Blood hemorrhaged out of his body and suddenly the room was difficult to focus on. He fought the urge to sleep, but it was a losing battle. His eyes closed.
This is it.
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Kywin Vast was invisible, well at least to everyone but those bitches with the black wings and Decius. He was in the thick of things, sending a shuriken into the jugular of a cultist here, embedding one in the heart of a Bearded Devil there. It would have been easy if that bastard Decius wasn't zeroing in on him and hurling fireballs and bolts of lightning his way. Kywin cursed endlessly under his breath as the pain of multiple burns took its toll. If only the priest hadn't been killed he would be enjoying a bit of healing magic right now. Yet another reason to hate Decius Maximillian.
Dark devour his soul.
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Inquisitor Terrian Vahe burned with zeal. He smiled wide as the path to Decius became clear, the smell of the charred flesh of cultists and devils bringing his soul a small amount of comfort.
"Decius Maximillian!" He bellowed, "For crimes against the Kingdom of Damocles and His Majesty King Charles Hadrien, I pronounce you dead already! May the gods have mercy on you for your perversion!"
Decius sneered at the boast, "Filth." he stated simply.
Vahe rushed madly at the demon-sorcerer with his sword held high, stopping for nothing. He swung with all his might, only to barely miss. Decius was prepared for him, his hands crackled with arcane lightning and he gripped Vahe tightly, sending lethal amounts of electricity coursing through the Inquisitor. His mouth cracked into a terrifying grin as he whispered a few powerful words and an explosion ballooned out from behind Vahe; the flames washed over him and the force of the blast, combined with electricity that wracked his body with pain, brought him to his knees. Decius began laughing, a cackle tinged with mania.
Terrian's vision started to darken and blur, then he heard the laughter through the haze of pain. Fury welled up in his chest and a measure of clarity returned. He gripped the Crown Blade tighter and, though his clothes still burned and arcs of electricity made his muscles spasm, he stood up; with a mighty roar he plunged the ancient sword into the heart of his torturer. The pain and laughter ceased.
Decius stood there looking at the sword in his chest incredulously, he tried to speak but words didn't come. Terrian pulled the blade from his opponent's torso and grasped his throat with his free hand, lifting him effortlessly off of the ground and hurling his broken form a full fifteen feet into the one of the many statues of the saints.
Black blood pooled around his body and Decius Maximillian stirred no more.
Justice.
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