Dark shapes flitted through the woods, never still, always in motion. The sun had
set a bare hour before, shrouding the vast forest in darkness, as well as Drak
Yardok, the one gem of civilization this far east.

Torches shed their dim light over the high walls, illuminating men standing upon
the ramparts, girded in steel and thick leather, stalwartly watching the dark
woods.

"Why haven't they attacked yet?" thought Valiant, "It is night now, What are
they waiting for?" The man shivered, and gripped his bow more tightly.

A spearman appeared from out of the murk. He stopped before the man and
tightly saluted. "My Duke," the spearman began, "all is quiet on the western
curtain," he trailed off, his gaze resting uneasily on the forest below them.

"That lad is barely fourteen summers young," thought the duke, "too young to
know the horrors that will surely follow this wait." The spearman left, going back
into the darkness. The duke couldn't help but think that this city would go that
way; Into darkness.

He heard a tree split way out in the forest; A grandfather oak, shattering. Then
he heard another die, and yet another. Mystified, the duke strained to see what
was happening, but the gods-cursed darkness obscured everything beyond a few
hundred yards.

The noise went on for an hour or so, though it was hard to tell time in this
moonless night. The duke was getting a little cramped from standing still for so
long, and so he gestured to another nearby guard, and descended to the city
streets, anxious to put the night out of his mind for a few brief moments, as far
as he dared, at least.

He had barely set his booted foot upon the cobblestone street when he heard
the screams. A man plummeted down from the battlement above. The same
young man he had spoken to. Now he was twisted at impossible angles, with his
belly ripped open from some sharp, cruel claws.

Valiant looked upon this in shock for but a split second, then drew his mighty
sword from its sheath, and with a shout of anger, sprinted back up the rampart
stairs.

He felt the tremble for but a moment, then he was flying through the air, heat
blasting him as huge chunks of granite and mortar exploded in a ball of
destructive fire. The night was lit up as more of these spheres flew through the
sky, sent to wreak their havoc upon the beleaguered defenders. The howls of
rage from within the forest suddenly seemed much, much nearer

Valiant landed on the thatch roof of a small house within the city. Luckily the
inhabitants had all moved away long before, afraid of the monsters they were.
He still had a grip on his broadsword, and his bow and quiver were undamaged
after his fall. He stood up on the roof to find a way down, and his attention was
caught by another blast; something was bombarding the walls mercilessly, and
the defenders were milling about in panic. Valiant wasn't sure if he wouldn't do
the same. He knew his place was with his men, yet he didn't know how he could
help them.

Shaking his head at his cowardly thoughts, Valiant leapt down from the low roof,
and started jogging up the street towards the wall. He immediately noticed a
sharp pain in his side. It must be from the fall, he thought. He lifted off a piece
from his leather breastplate, and saw that an ugly black bruise was beginning to
form.

Disgusted, he covered it back up again, and gripped his broadsword tighter. He
kept running towards the wall. The streets were devoid of people, but the sound
of the dying filled his ears.

He was but a hundred yards from the wall, when a great ball of fire lit the sky
beyond. It arched high above the wall, then dipped down out of site just before
it.

The shock of the sphere hitting the wall shook the ground even where Valiant
stood in the street. This time not just pieces chipped off, but an entire chunk of
wall shattered into a million shards. The ramparts around the blast crumbled to
the ground, and a rubble-choked hole opened up to the night. As soon as the
smoke cleared, Valiant could see small red eyes glowing in the night, and he
heard low growls in the shadows.

Valiant ran off the street, and hid behind a few barrels in front of the abandoned
cooper's shop. He watched the demons enter the breach.

Bodies were strewn everywhere. Most were killed in the strange bombardment,
though some were taken by the demons. The things were big. They lumbered in
through the hole they had made, and stood there sniffing the smoke. The things
smelled terribly of sulfur, and looked like things Valiant had only had nightmares
about. They were easily twice his height, and bulging with muscles, though they
had no skin... simply black ichor, and it coated their bodies like the skin they
didn't have. They left trails of it as they walked along on their two powerful
clawed feet, their long tails stuck out straight behind them, balancing their weight
while their fanged maws opened wide, their forked tongues tasting the air. Four
clawed-tipped hands flexed unconsciously as it searched for more prey. The
body of a slain archer dangled from around its neck.

Valiant simply hid, awed by their sheer size and terrible might. Then he saw the
smaller ones come through the breech in the wall... like ants they came, many of
them. They looked like large dogs, skinless like the giants, but they gracefully
bounded on all fours. The stench of sulfur grew even stronger as these new ones
arrived. Already, the sounds of battle at this side of the city were dying down,
and the screams of the townsfolk were beginning. The lucky ones had made it to
the castle at the heart of the city. The stubborn ones had decided to risk all to
protect their businesses against looters. They now paid the price of their
stubborness with their lives.

Valiant knew that the city was lost. There was nothing he could do to help it,
other than reach Dragonspire, and warn the Emperor... These things must be
stopped, or they will envelope the Empire, and destroy her worse than any war
or plague could. He must make it back.

He waited until the things were past him. Oddly, they didn't smell him, though
they were trying very hard. They looked right at him, but it seemed those red
eyes didn't work very well. But those demon-hounds looked alert... He could see
a glimmer of intelligence in the way they acted. Theirs was a pack mentality, but
they seemed to communicate with some sort of language; he had heard them
calling to each other in a keening wail, and sometimes in a chittering howl.

Soon, most of the demon-hounds were gone too, with only a couple of
stragglers left that had come in too late to enjoy the feast. Valiant knew that this
was his last chance.

The first one went by without looking twice, so intent was it upon reaching the
killing grounds that the demon-giants had created. Valiant let it go by. Then the
second one was nearly to the barrels, with the same eager look on its face.
Valiant held his sword low, then as soon as it bounded next to the barrels, he
jumped up from his crouch, and swung his blade with all his strength full into the
slackly open jaw of the hound. Its momentum carried it farther onto the slanted
blade, cleaving its lower jaw clean off, and driving the edge far into its twisted
brain. The sword stuck, and was wrenched out of Valiants hands as the thing fell
and struck the ground, its body convulsing, and bleeding black blood everywhere.
Valiant stood back, wary if the beast was faking or not. He drew his dagger, and
stood behind the barrel.

But it seemed that the thing could indeed be killed, and that practically taking its
head off did the trick. Valiant reached for his sword, and picked it up. He looked
in shock at the foot-long stump that was left of the blade. Confused, he bent
down to find the rest, but all he found was some ruptured sac of fluid above the
creatures mouth... acid? He didn't know, and didn't have time to find out; there
was no telling when more beasts would arrive. He remembered that all of these
things smelled like sulfur, and he remembered that the beasts seemed to find
things on smell alone. That gave him an idea.

He bent down over the carcass, and with a grimace he took a long breath of
what the beast smelled like. Sure enough, sulfur. It was very weak, now that it
was dead, but it would serve. All he needed was to reach the forest, he thought.
He touched the ooze covering its muscles with his dagger. When the blade didn't
melt off, he reached over, and smeared some of the smelly ichor onto his hand,
thun over his arms. Soon, his whole body was covered with the disgusting stuff.

Saluting the fallen hound, and thanking it for its gift, Valiant sprinted for the hole
in the wall. He made it down the street without incident, and entered the
brand-new passageway. It was wide, wide enough to accomodate the giant
demons at least. That theory was proven at that very moment when the outline,
then the body of one of the giants appeared out of the hazy night. Valiant froze
right in the middle of the passageway, seeing no way to escape certain death.
He prayed then for the first time. But he was interrupted by warm breath on his
face. He opened his eyes, to see the red orbs of the giant before him, the beast
bending down. A pink forked tongue snaked out and tasted the air all around
him. It cocked its head, as if it thought it sensed something wrong, but couldn't
place its source. Then it stood up, and continued walking into the city, walking
over Valiant, who stood transfixed as it walked above him, watched its tail swing
above him. He stood there frozen for a moment, aware of how close he had
come to meeting the Goddess right then. He shook his head, to get back to his
senses, and walked the feeling back into his legs. He was at the other side now.
He could see the forest, across the plains... He must reach it, but there must be
demons out there... But he couldn't see any. Where could they be?

He decided then that he didn't care. He was going, demons or not. He made sure
his bow and quiver were secure at his back, and drew his long dagger, making
sure it was covered in demon ichor. He took a deep breath, then broke from the
cover of the hole and sprinted out into the open plain.

His legs pumped faster and faster, and he could hear his heart beating louder
than the fiery blasts had sounded. He knew that the demons were in the woods
too, but he had a better chance of surviving out here than he had in the city. This
went through his mind as the trees got closer and closer.

When he heard the howl, it chilled him to the bone. He risked a glance back, and
he saw four of the demon hounds bounding out of the hole in the wall and onto
the plain with great strides, eating up distance faster than they'd eat up people.
Valiant turned back to the forest, and focused on running. He was without a
sword, had no time to use his bow, and had a puny knife against demons the
likes of which the stories had never mentioned. He had to run.

The beasts howled in fury when he finally reached the edge of the forest, and
leapt into the underbrush. Seconds later, the hounds dove in after him.
 
 

Onaeus
Patriarch of the Druidic Order
Praetor of Draconia
Duke of Nova Q'lynnesti