[Open to All] Book 2: Hunting after The Rise.

(Note: ONLY join this project if you are able to stick it out. Otherwise, I'll complete it as a Solo. Continued after: ~Rise~ and is part of an ongoing series. Some parts will be open, other's will be solo's!!! Note if you're interested in joining please place yourself already within one of the steam buggies, thank you for understanding!!!)

~Day 1~

The Demon Compendium. It says that the time for hunting Demons is best at night...after The Witching Hour. Dyne thought to himself.

It was a rough environment out on the dune sea. Craggy rocky formations were present, and the hot sun beat down on traveler's backs. Dyne wore goggles to protect his eyes from the harsh glare of the afternoon sun. He was out that day with several other companions. Assembled at Ettermire for the task at hand. The house lords of the spires in Ettermire needed grunts like Dyne and his companions working the fields proper. The sands swirled about like constant moving streams, the ground was sturdy but one still had to be weary of sudden events like quagmires and pitfalls. Dyne carefully looked through the spyglass and was searching the area ahead of the moving steam buggies. Alerar was a nation of great technological advancements. Including steam technology, like the four vehicles carrying Dyne and the rest of the crew. As a demonologist, Dyne's knowledge of the demon compendium would be invaluable. Four passengers could fit into each of the steam vehicles. Their long, metallic pipes at the rear sections were sputtering hot steam. The vehicles were loud and noisy, scaring off most of the local wildlife and attracting still others.

Dyne was part of a hunting party.

An old enemy was spotted on one of the western ridges, and Dyne was ordered on the hunting party by his superiors. The Cursed, or the Drow of Alerar. Dyne's bald head was hidden by a hood that he wore, attached to his baggy clothing. He'd changed a lot from the idealistic days of his youth. Back when the Cormyr house was something. Those days, he no longer bore allegiance to Corone herself. Alerar was his new flag. The man carefully looked through the spy glass, it was a long instrument used for studying objects at a distance. The images appeared much closer than they were, and it was a good tool for scouting missions. Dyne stood up in his passenger seat, and carefully spied out through the instrument. His eyes straining against the heat of the goggle. It was a higher quality pair, but it still was hard to see at points since they fogged every so often. Dyne was hot, but they all were in that accursed desert heat. Dyne could feel the weight of the machine around him, he'd always did have a high view on technology and considered it the next aspect of Althanas's evolution. Dyne closed the spy glass, and sat down next to the steam buggy's pilot.

Dyne spoke with a gruff Alerar accent, his voice deeper those days. He'd aged considerably.

The mark of the psionic visible in his intensely glowing eyes.

"The outpost has smoke." Dyne said calmly. "The first scout's reports are validated."

The buggy's pilot did not look at Dyne when he responded. He kept concentrating on the control mechanisms of the vehicle. "What do you think happened out there, Dyne?" Came the response of the pilot.

"I have a guess. But we'll need a closer look to see if the taint is present." Dyne responded.

"The Thaynes are bastards, I swear. You suspect more demonic activity out here too?" The pilot asked.

"It reminds me of the other time." Dyne said calmly. "Either way, I'd have to test the psychokinetic energies there."

"Think there may be survivors out there?" The pilot asked grimly.

"Hard to say this far out. We're still quite a ways from the site. I have strict orders though so if there are survivors, extract may not be possible." Dyne focused on the task at hand. Demonic activity in this region has been unusually high. I might have a nemesis out here...somewhere. Gotta stay frosty. Dyne knew the nature of the mission, he was recruited specifically by his master. His master knew of Dyne's skill with the demonic compendium. The book in his possession. It was a dark tome, but would be the key to uncovering the mystery of the hour. It would have the necessary pages needed to command whatever forces had attacked the outpost itself. Dyne's eyes narrowed. He always did hate buggy travel, it upset his stomach at points with how fast they moved through the desert.

Dyne's face shifted to a very serious expression.

A pang touched his mind and Dyne put a hand to the side of his head.

"Are you all right?" The pilot asked.

"It's confirmed. We're dealing with Demons." Dyne said confidently, he could here the whisper of demonic speak in the back of his head...in the tongue of the demons.

[Enter here^]

Out of Character:

Anything here can be changed if I describe something wrong etc

"Finally." The man seated at the rear of Dyne's steam buggy muttered. He wore a wide-brimmed canvas cap and lightweight cloak that had been white once, but was grey with dirt and almost matched the dull steel of the buggy's wall.

"What was that?" The slender elf seated next to him asked in bored Alerian.

"Nothing," the man in the canvas cap responded in the elf's native tongue.

Joshua Cronen pulled the wide-brimmed cap down over his eyes and tugged the collar of his dirty cloak up and huddled against the buggy's wall.

"Too much to drink last night," he muttered, one of the few phrases he knew in Alerian. It could explain away a number of odd behaviors and seldom came under question.

The Alerian elf snorted and tossed a long mane of silver hair over his shoulder and turned away, watching the passing landscape.

Cronen smiled beneath the disguise shrouding his features. And that councillor said arriving anonymously would be the hardest part.

The councillor - one of the Queen's most trusted advisors, or so he claimed - had remained anonymous in their single meeting. He'd worn the guise of a simple guardsman including a full hood and metal facemask which obscured his features completely. Cronen would have had no way of knowing him, but even so the elf disguised his voice. Josh had caught a brief glimpse of the councillor's wrist and its dark mauve skin, which was the only reason he knew the elf was Alerian, or even an elf. By Amaleh's eyes, he'd done work for the Scarlet Brigade during Corone's civil war that had been less secretive.

The information he received was minimal; a strong demonic presence had taken root in the dune sea near Ettermire. An investigative team was dispatched, but the councillor claimed to have better information on the problem than anyone else in Alerar. As the steam wagons rumbled and lurched over windswept dunes, the single sentence that had summed up the job replayed in Cronen's mind. He could still hear the councillor's muffled voice coming from behind the metal mask.

When they discover the demonic power at work at the outpost, they will need someone who can end it. The rest had been left unsaid. Joshua "Breaker" Cronen was known for many things across Althanas, and quelling unnatural forces was one of them. He was glad someone else had finally sensed the presence. For the last half hour he'd heard nagging whispers in the back of his mind, speaking in a cryptic tongue.

Breaker blew dry breath through pursed lips as the wagon tilted climbing a dune, changing the angle of his hat's brim and giving him a view of the man with the spyglass. The fellow was one of the only other Coronians in the party, but seemed at ease with his compatriots and surroundings. He almost seemed in charge. There was something strangely familiar about the Coronian face, his voice, even his energy signature. Breaker coughed as he inhaled grit. He'd fought hundreds of opponents between the Citadel and the great Cell tournament alone; the man with the spyglass had probably been one of them, or maybe spectated a contest.

Cronen wiped his mouth and re-settled his canvas cap at a lower angle. He'd come to Alerar to end the life of an old enemy, but the search had gone on for months and his liquid assets began to dry. And so he found himself in a steam-belching caravan, on his way to quell a demonic power that was probably someone else's old enemy.

Too many people on Althanas carry grudges, he thought, and chuckled, for he was among them.

One of the members of the last steam buggy bringing up the rear, and carrying the groups supplies, was driven by one that was neither wholly dark elf, nor entirely human. He was definitely not a Coronian, but while he considered himself Alerian, his position as Sel Darthirii was tenuous at best. He was a mutt born of the interbreding of three races, human, old elf, and new, and two of the groups dark elf members viewed him with greater disdain than they showed the humans, while the rest, save one, ignored him all together.

the same as most places

He was here, because his superior, who did not like being called master, had requested he come on this journey. To him, every request Faust made was treated as a command, not out of fear, but out of a desire to please.

Unlike the humans, Lothar was not able to sense the presence of the demons, but the hair on the back of his neck, what little there was, given the close cropness of his hair, had been standing on end for the last quarter mile. The sensation of being watched had been going on for a mile before that. He could not have said why either sensation was taking place, perhaps it was some effect of being close to the humans, who mere perception told him that they were both capable fighters and had considerable knowledge in abilities with myserious forces. You could see it in they way they moved, in the way they held themselves, and in a dozen other little things besides, but mostly he could see it in their eyes.

He had made comment about it to one of the others, who had snorted, and said, Lothar was imagining things, the humans were just here as fauder for the demon. Lothar knew better, Faust had obtained some information on both men, and made sure to brief Lothar on what he knew, and so, Lothar knew to be as wary of those two humans as he was of any demons.

The buggy jerked again as it encountered another bit of rocky projection, and Lothar stopped scanning the terrain for just a moment to check the dials above the steering yoke to reassess boiler and Furnas temperatures.

If anyone, or anything was scanning the broken rocky landscape from where they were headed, then the vehicles would no doubt be spotted, they stood out on this kind of landscape far more than the company would be if they were mounted. Still there was no guarantee that if the group had come in on less conspicuous transportation that they still wouldn’t be seen. So, naturally, the groups leaders had opted for speed over subtlety and he could understand why.

Still a part of him still wished for a more stealthy approach.

Out of Character:

will edit for spelling and such later.

Meanwhile...

"They break so easily." That was the last of the survivors.

The Behemoth like creature that lead the others, broke the neck of the last of the hold outs.

The minion lurked in the outpost town all around him, his eyes capable of seeing with the shadow.

One of the minions, presumably a scout, faded into the material world. He approached the giant creature very carefully and looked up to it.

"Our information has returned. A group of meat comes this way. My lord...there are three components in the meat wagon that is interesting." The minion said.

"Three?" The behemoth asked. "Go on."

"One of them is a Caller..." The minion began.

***

"There." Dyne said to nobody in particular. He looked back to the man called Breaker, something rang familiar about him. Perhaps...they had met a life time ago. However at that point, many of Dyne's old memories were shattered across his mind as he'd built up a new life for himself in Alerar. He'd fled the ravages of the Corone Civil War, his family...his former household...just another nameless victim of the long war. The buggies all stopped at about the same time. Dyne stepped out of the vehicle, and signaled for the others to do the same. He wasn't in charged or anything like that, he was just used to giving out orders where the situation called for it. Dyne stepped out of the buggy and looked at the outpost ahead.

Many rustic Alerar buildings were up ahead, some dying fires, and smoke rising up above them.

Dyne could see the unique Alerar architecture up ahead.

There was a large figure in the center of the township, presumably their leader.

Dyne walked over towards his companions, especially breaker and the other newcomer. They were all united against a common enemy. Dyne would be certain they beat the odds. Dyne took a swig of the waterskin in his possession and then spoke to his companions. "I won't lie to you guys. Things look pretty bad out there." Dyne stole a glance in the general direction of the outpost town. Then he returned his attention back to his allies. He kept glancing at Breaker. Where have I seen him before...? The thought kept dawning on him. By that point, most of the adenturers were gathered. Dyne was not gonna pretty up words for the situation, he was only gonna tell them the truth. They deserved that much. "There's a leader there. It's one of the big ones." Dyne said calmly. "There's no way of knowing how many there are all together..." Dyne shook his head. "But, I can tell you guys thinks look kind of bleak even with the hired muscle." Dyne stole a glance at Breaker.

"The leader, what kind of them is it?" Asked one of the more inquisitive of the passengers.

"Can't tell yet. Would have to get a closer analysis on it." Dyne looked at the gathered heroes. "Gentlemen and ladies. Fortune favours the bold. What do you say, you guys ready to send some demons back to their Haide?"
Dyne had extensive knowledge of The Thayne Codex.

He looked at the gathered adventurers, he could tell they were scared.

There were some hushed whispers.

"We were promised a big payday for this...can you deliver that?" Another of the passengers of another buggy asked.

"Whatever you guys find on the ones you kill you can keep. They are Demons. We don't have to show them honour here." Dyne began saying...

And then...

The scouts were upon them.

One of the minion creatures made their way towards the top of the one of the buggies. It looked right at the gathered.

"You've come to have your flesh flayed. And you...Joshua Cronen...our Lords have encountered you before..." At that point several more of the winged imps showed up and began to attack.

Dyne reacted and drew his plynt sword and shield, carefully preparing a counter offensive.

There were five of the minion demons in the first wave, preparing energy attacks presumably of elemental fire.

Dyne raised his shield, with Alerar marks, and felt tremendous heat as a blast struck the plynt surface.

"Let's take them boys!" Dyne yelled and prepared to attack. The others reacted quickly as well.

Breaker appreciated Dyne's powers immediately; to him the power in the air felt like a minor electric current. The kind of static that built up where clothing rubbed on dry days. The other Coronian detected the exact demonic presences, and with the information provided a plan formulated in Cronen's mind. I'll carve a path through this demon leader's minions and destroy it somewhere out of sight. Then we can all go home safe and-- the plan fell to pieces as the first winged demon to assault the buggy train called him by name.

Nevermind that. Breaker shed his cloak and cap and leaped up and out the open top of the buggy. Twin fountains sprayed from outspread palms as he conjured water from the air. The burst doused the majority of the demonfire and knocked some of the implike creatures off their perches atop the buggy.

Josh landed in the dirt and rolled, hearing an imp thud onto the ground behind him with an angry hiss. He twisted and tumbled to his feet and got his first good look at one of the little beasts. It resembled a skinny dwarf, with pointed ears and fangs instead of long beard and hair, and strangely furred, scaly skin.

The imp shrieked in rage and shook forcefully, shedding droplets of the water that had soaked it and its comrades and patches of the surrounding sand.

Josh snatched a dagger from its sheathe in his black metal boot and stabbed the demon in the neck before it could gather its thoughts or arcane energies. Breaker grabbed the dying creature and used it as a shield to ward off a charge from another imp, spraying the first one's blood at the other's eyes. They looked similar, except the second was larger and green-tinged to its friend's red.

Breaker's outburst of power allowed the Alerian mercenaries a breath, and they gathered rapidly atop the buggies, forming small musket blocks and firing in rough, explosive unison.

Josh doused a fireball cast by the green demon with a flick of his free hand and stabbed the beast through the top of its skull. His knife left the corpse easily; its blade was black diamond, originally forged in Alerar for an assassin called Kron Sha'keth. Cronen had killed Kron's brother years prior, and the remaining Sha'keth had wrecked havoc among Josh's dearest friends in answer. It was for Sha'keth Cronen had come to Alerar, and he'd use the assassin's own blade to complete this side job, a constant reminder of his purpose.

When this is over, Josh told himself, looking back to see how his allies had fared, I'll return to my search for Sha'keth with fresh eyes. I will find that murderer and end this feud once and for all.

The bursts of rifle fire might have made one think they were watching the climatic near finale of an alchemist guild fireworks show. The irate outcries of demonic attackers, combined with the agonized death howls of those hit by the explosive barrage of bullets, ensured that such an image was not held over long.

Lothar knew, as he put a bolt through the neck of a flying demon that was trying to swoop down on his comrades as they reloaded, that it was only a matter of time before the demons discerned the weakness in the mercenaries’ firing pattern, and exploited it, and then all Nether would break loose.

His second bolt took another one of the dwarf sized flying demons right through the lower jaw to explode, along with bone and blood and brain, out the back of the things head. He of course didn’t spend the time to admire his handiwork, or to witness the thing hit the ground with all the grace of a deboned chicken, he was busy tracking his next target and frantically thinking of a way that he could convince someone of the tactical error of the current defensive arrangement before the demons figured it out.

A quick glance to his left located the one Alerian that had showed him some degree of congeniality during this expedition thus far.

Ahlysaaria Tuin was serving as the right most pillars to the defensive position, her bow working to provide cover to the third block of riflemen as they reloaded. As one of only two women in the outfit, she was easily spotted by the fact that she used a bow and the fact that her leather and chainmail armor was covered in defensive glowing runes.

Given her stance, and the casual perfunctory way she put arrow after arrow through their attackers, one might think her a somewhat board heiress to a long ennobled family at target practice.

Lothar let out a quick high pitched whistle, which immediately had Ahlysaaria's lavender eyes meeting his. Lothar made a series of hand gestures, indicating the possible shortcomings in their current position and response.

Her nod was all the confirmation he needed.

Turning away from the dark elf beauty, Lothar snapped off his last bolt at a charging four armed monstrosity, who had been wounded by a volley, but hadn’t been incapacitated. The bellow that the thing was about to release was interrupted by the force fed discharge that Lothar sent its way.

The humor of that outcome was lost on the mixed-breed however, as all he could think of was the damage one of those flame discharges could do if it set off the coal stores on one of the steam buggies.

Not bothering with reloading, Lothar simply tossed his spent crossbow into the vehicle before snatching another loaded crossbow from the weapons wrack located on the back of the crew compartment of his buggy, and proceeded to dump three more rounds into the winged demons that were at that moment breaking away from the group assaulting the humans to head his group’s way.

“Covering fire, covering fire, block two cover block one.”

Ahlysaaria voice easily carried over the din of weapons’ fire, roars, screams, and the occasional shout of “get some” hurled the demons way. What was more she managed to at once sound authoritative without shouting. An emotion, which might have been jubilation, Lothar couldn’t be sure, fired off in his brain. A dark elf that wasn’t Faust had listened to him.

“… Block three cover block two, and block one cover three.”

Another four armed behemoth, who had taken enough rounds to kill a bull twice over, took one of her glowing runic arrows through its throat which had it flopping on the ‘deck’ like a fish out of water.

If the humans could keep the fire tossers occupied, and the rotating blocks could keep the fire constant enough, and if he and Ahlysaaria could serve as skirmishers well enough, then they could do this. If, if, if, too many ifs.

(Okay guys, feel free to start naming NPC's/fleshing them out at this point. This thread is meant to last a while!!!)

The small group of defenders were gaining quite a bit of momentum on the first wave of attackers.

Alberdyne listened to his companions as they fought.

He spied Breaker fighting for with great skill, capable of using some of a hydro jet of power that extended from the palm of his hand.

Dyne was impressed.

He kept using the Alerar sword technique he had learned in his time spent in that Nation as one of her sons.

Once, he'd been loyal to the flag of Corone.

Those days were long since gone.

Dyen gripped the handle of his plynt sword with elegant skill, sometimes blocking attacks with his plynt shield.

The weapons and gear in his arsenal glowed with a mysterious dark energy.

Dyne impaled an imp that came too close for comfort.

That's when he noticed it.

Several bolts from engineered crossbows were firing off seemingly at random.

The aim was true, and several of the many attackers were knocked out of the sky that they commanded.

Dyne was a fair swordsman at that point in his life, but he was worried he would hold his companions back.

His eyes narrowed...

Thaynes damn this desert heat... He thought to himself.

As he slashed skillfully, he noticed that the imps were slowly gathering their numbers.

The winged creatures swirled over head, just out of reach of the cross bolts, tormenting the Heroes.

Fell energies, dark-green flame, were launched from the small hands of the foul beasts.

However, Dyne and his companions were more than capable of defending themselves against such minions.

Each of the passengers and drivers gathered their own weapons and gear, and prepared the assault.

There were plenty of defenders...

So far, not a single had fallen of Alerar's defenders.

All fought valiantly.

Dyne especially had something to prove, he understood the score and the nature of the enemy...

When something happened that Dyne had not counted on.

One of his companions, a man named Aelldron, a Drow, suddenly screamed. One of the fellows, a passenger in the buggy he'd been in, suddenly stabbed him through the chest.

A nearby imp had unusually glowing eyes...and had a powerful aura about itself.

Shit! Mind control magic...I hand't planned for that... Dyne saw that the one using the mind-control powers had a different coloured eyes than the rest of them.

Likely a sign that the imps were using their fell power.

Dyne suddenly ran towards the imp in question.

Screaming to catch the attention of the imp, Dyne leaped forward.

His powerful muscles tensed as he jumped forward, attempting to cover a lot of ground quickly.

The sound of the buggies that were still on filled Dyne's ear as he sailed through the air in an impressive leap forward.

He raised his sword and attempted to bring it down on the imp...

Dyne's glowing plynt blade arched downward and struck true, disrupting the mind-control spell.

There was a burst of glowing energy that signaled the disruption process had indeed started.

The air around the imp fizzled and burst with power, Dyne soon decapitated it, the imp's eyes menacingly staring up at Dyne as the head rolled away.

Dyne turned towards his companions.

"Guard your thoughts!!!" Was the only warning he could give them.

They were still on the outskirts of the town.

Dyne blocked an incoming fell blast with his shield.

The force of the impact made him slide backwards a few paces...

They are not average minions...I'm going to have to start playing fire with fire really soon here... Dyne's eyes spotted where Aelldron currently was preparing to attack yet another ally. Shit that's gonna be a problem... Dyne knew where his next mission was.

He ran towards Aelldron, as the Drow mercenary prepared to attack yet another former ally in the back.

Dyne recognized the insane look in Aelldron's eyes. He'd seen it before several times in his life...

Dyne caught up to Aelldron and prepared to intercept an attack, that the Drow had launched on a former ally.

Everybody was presumably too busy to notice what was occurring.

Aelldron swung a mighty swing towards Kabellath, another of the mercenaries who was in the middle of attacking one of the imps.

Dyne reached Aelldron's position just in time, and intercepted the man's sword with his own.

There was a loud clang as the two weapons collided mere inches away from Kabellath's back.

Aelldron stared at Dyne with utter rage. "What do you think you're doing!" Aelldron yelled.

"Stopping you from making another mistake." Dyne responded. Kabellath slew the imp he was attacking and turned to see Dyne confronting Aelldron.

Both of their blades were locked in intercepted position.

Dyne held Aelldron's hatred-full gaze. "You would sell us out for a group of lowly Imp minions?!" Dyne asked of Aelldron.

Kabellath spoke. "It's a charm spell isn't it!?" Kabellath asked.

"Don't exactly know, Kabellath. Just know he killed Grudon just now." Dyne looked carefully at Aelldron. "Kabellath, you're my superior officer here. What would you have me do here?" Dyne wanted to hear it from Kabellath's mouth.

"Kill him. Traitors deserve as traitor's death." Kabellath suddenly said.

And Dyne directly engaged Aelldron...

The mild stirring at the back of Breaker's mind became an aberrant buzz that threatened to overwhelm his senses. The warrior pushed the external force away with experienced ease and sealed it away from his thoughts, away from him. Too many times in the past had some demon or sorcerer gained complete or partial control of his mind. He shuddered at the memory even as he slew another imp with a straight elbow that caved in its skull.

Cronen's comrades fared much worse. A swift glance over one broad shoulder showed them fighting amongst themselves. Only a couple of the mercenaries seemed effected by the demonic force, but the surprise attacks on their neighboring troops threatened to upset the careful balance keeping the onslaught of Haidians from gaining the buggies.

Breaker dug deep into the well of the Eternal Tap that always flowed through him and summoned more water from thin air, fifty pounds which formed into fifty flanged flachette darts and froze into ice as hard as steel. With a quick draw and thrust of both palms Breaker sent the darts whinging through the imps threatening his comrades, decimating the demonic ranks. The salvo earned the musketeers enough reprieve to reset their timed firing.

This way.

The evil presence attempting to gain control of Breaker's mind became a mental path to the behemoth leading the demons. Josh grabbed the next imp to attack by both wrists and used the thing like a flail to clear a path through its ken, delivering shuddering blows to the skulls and jaws and midriffs of the other imps with his weapon's hard heels and knees.

Breaker battered his way through the last of the wave of demons and raced into the rustic dessert town that made up the outpost. He raced past a refinery and a sawmill, feeling the behemoth's presence in the distance like a glowing beacon. The demon was at the far end of the town, in a building hidden by the massive windmill that dominated the outpost. Although only a meagre breeze blew the mill turned with determined regularity. Its blades were made of yew frames with canvas sailcloth stretched between, angled to make the most of even the smallest amount of power. Within came the grinding sound of a giant pestle being powered by the mill.

"Breaker! Over here!" A muffled voice hailed him.

Josh glanced toward the windmill and saw an Alerian palace guard. Hazel eyes drank in enough details to know it was the same guard who had hired him for the mission. The metal facemask had the same scuff on the nose, and the shoulders had the same slanted angle, the right wrist the same long, white scar...

"Ama'leh's eyes," Breaker breathed his goddess' name aloud.

The elf in the mask was the assassin, Kron Sha'keth.

We're getting torn apart... Dyne thought grimly.

Their tactics are baseline and very simplistic, but horrifying nonetheless. They turn comrades against one another... Dyne narrowed his eyes as his sword impaled the chest of Aelldron, once an ally. Now a bitterly hated enemy. This is not a good way to go out... The imps were expendable, and were part of the larger force. This is getting us no where... Dyne carefully slashed apart another imp as he got done killing the traitor. It was possible that more of his companions were under the control of the enemy. By the Thayne...the odds are stacking worse against us... He thought to himself. He raised his shield as a green energy beam, Fell Fire, blasted against it. He was thankful for his recent upgrades. He could feel the heavy weight of the dangerous energy cascading against his shield. The fallen Hero looked to his companions. He saw that Kabellath and everybody not in the command of the demons were all busy fighting. Dyne cursed out loud. The Breaker, Cronen, Hero of The Citadel, was confronting an individual that Dyne could not recall being a part of the buggy caravan.

Was he one of the troops?! Dyne had no time to fight towards Cronen's position. There were members of the buggy squad closer to his position anyway.

As he fought he took apart several more of the imps, but he noticed something. There was a shine off in one of the nearby houses. There, demonic energy is swelling from there... Dyne thought to himself as his mind identified a source of great power. I wonder if there are survivors there... The thought vaguely crossed his mind. However, he would not go out of his way to endanger civilians any further. Dyne cut down two more imps and looked towards Kabellath's position.

"Kabellath, I'm making a break for the town. Cover me, I see something important!" Dyen had to know.

He just had to.

Dyne saw his superior officer giving him a cryptic expression, but nodded.

"Don't take too long man. We're getting overrun here!" Kabellath yelled back.

Dyne partially wanted to yell some supporting words towards Cronen. But that thought was quickly gone when a third party entered the fray. The behemoth Dyne spotted early came rampaging through the assault party, grabbing companions and imps alike. It roared heavily, but seemed drawn towards the position of Joshua Cronen. Dyne saw his chance to make a break for it. As the behemoth arrived, he nodded towards Kabellath, and ran towards the house in question. It was right on the outskirts of the outpost. And old building, constructed in standard Alerar architectural design. It was a more modern building though, built in the years after the global wide demon war. Dyne ran, killing the imps that he came across. It was when he got closer to the building, that he felt the demonic source of power resonating. Dyne kicked the front door of the building open, it was a basic wooden door and caved quickly to his attack. Dyne gripped his sword tightly feeling a vortex like mixture of fear and pure rage.

As soon as he entered the building he was nearly overwhelmed with the scent of fresh-death.

There was a tremendous aroma of blood and death, viscera, and other horrible things.

Dyne immediately spotted the freshly glowing demonic symbols on the ground, just as the members of his Drow household had told him he would find.

It's here...what I'm looking for...

Power singed the air, and in the center of the entry-chamber was a horrible altar. It contained demonic totems and other relics used in dark rites. There were two men waiting for Dyne who wore completely black robes, and there were bodies everywhere. The symbols of power on the ground, walls, and ceiling had been written with the blood of the sacrificed. Dyne wanted to throw up. He was strong willed, but what he was witnessing was almost too much. However, there was a mission at hand. Dyne approached the two strangers.

One of them spoke, Dyne presumed the speaking was the superior officer of the two.

"Fancy meeting someone like you here." The man said in a strangely pleasant voice. There was no rage or hatred therein. The two stood in completely relaxed postures, and they were barefoot. Their feet soaked in blood. "Before you make a move...consider something."

Dyne frowned, but a part of him was compelled by the power in the room, the relics and secrets those two surely held. "Go on, I'm listening." Dyne said in a hushed voice, barely loud enough to hear.

"My lord. He could be one the prophet spoke of." The second figure said, clearly a woman.

"Indeed. Which is why I am giving him this rare opportunity." The man lowered his hood, and the woman did the same. They were both Humes. Clearly not of Alerar origin either, and they had fair skin. Unusually fair skin. They ears were also hyper developed, but Dyne noticed a darker glow in both of their eyes. "Son of Alerar. We are Scions of the Apocalypse." The man continued. "Our leader, Nenkulor Shima has recently fallen in battle and there is a void in our faction."

Nenkulor Shima...? Where have I heard that name before...? Dyne thought to himself. "Go on." Dyne sheathed his weapons and straightened his back as he looked at the two strangers. "You have my interest. But there is something I would ask if we are to continue."

"Go on son of Alerar." The man said carefully.

"My friends are in danger. If you are commanding the forces attacking my friends, I would appreciate it if you recall them and let my friends escape."

The man seemed to carefully consider Dyne's spoken words. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "As a favor to you, Son of Alerar, we can recall some of the Demons. But some of them are in control of the Behemoth creature present, and another. That one never gave us full command."

"Another...?" Then the thought dawned on him. That man that Breaker is attacking...

The male scion chuckled in a rather pleasant and agreeable way.

"Son of Alerar. Your friends will have to fight the rest of the Demons not in our command. But we have power enough to recall a certain percentage of them back to the Tular Planes."

"Back to Hell you mean." Dyne frowned. But he strangely kept his cool because more lives were on the line than just his own.

"Now then. The reason you are likely here." The man said. He removed one of the relics from the altar. A fancy looking scepter. "Did your leaders tell you about the scepter?"

Dyne shook his head.

The woman spoke at that point. "How interesting. You fight for a Nation who would sell you out...and has already sold you out. You have no idea why you are here do you?"

Dyne sighed. "I am just here following orders...but I have my own agenda."

"So the pawn has become a manipulator in his own right." The man said. The man showed Dyne the scepter. "We fought too hard for this scepter." The male scion said calmly. "But I can part with a gift for you none the less." The man said. He turned to look at the woman who nodded.

"You are a Devil Caller." She said calmly. "You need adequate training for your young talents. The Teachers here in Alerar will only become afraid of you. Once they realize what you are...you are already in danger. Son of Alerar. Allow us the opportunity to train your gifts and protect you from what is coming."

"You're saying they will betray me?" Dyne sighed...seemed betrayal followed him everywhere he went.

The man spoke at that point. "No, we are saying they have already betrayed you. Your one ally is the breaker, Joshua Cronen. Guard him and keep him close."

Dyne nodded. "I must ask one more thing." He was still a soldier following orders... "Are there any survivors that you lot spared? I must take them back with me."

"None were spared. But you can have my companion." The man said. "She is quite skilled and will help you with your training to become a Devil Caller." The scion summoned a portal. He grabbed the scepter once more. Dyne eyed the scepter, and a part of him wanted it.

Another day...another time... He thought to himself.

The man motioned to his companion, and she nodded. He left through the portal.

There was a screaming sound from outside.

"It has already begun, Son of Alerar." She said calmly. And the two hurried out of the nightmare room.

***

A short run later, the imps were indeed recalled as the scion promised.

But only a certain portion of them.

Dyne ran towards Kabellath's position and his female companion followed. The both fought the imps that remained, killing several on the way. Dyne was dismayed when he saw that several of his companions had fallen in battle. He spotted Joshua Cronen slightly further away.

Dyne made his way towards Kabellath and the remaining members of his team.

"Kabellath, I found one survivor." Dyne said calmly. The woman ran behind him, Dyne noticed her appearance had changed slightly. Slightly more Human. The thought sent a chill up his spine.

She nodded towards Dyne's leader. Many of the imps had vanished at that point but a few remained.

As well as the behemoth and the man Joshua Cronen was conversing with. "Kabellath, stay here. Me and my friend are going to assist Cronen."

And Dyne made his way over towards Joshua's position, fighting the entire way there. His companions slayed the last few of the Imps that were present.

At that moment, when Dyne saw the behemoth up close, he knew the true battle had begun.

"Welcome to your death, Cronen." Kron Sha'keth cawed. He moved towards Breaker with a bounce in his gait that matched the sardonic glee in his voice. In all their encounters Josh had never seen the assassin anywhere close to happy, even back when his brother Shynt was alive. The sight and sound sent ice-wyrms shivering up and down Breaker's spine.

"You haven't killed me yet," Josh pointed out, and thrust a palm forward, buffeting a gust of wind to knock Sha'keth off balance. In the moment of spare time it afforded him Josh turned and conjured manacles of steely ice around the behemoth's ankles and lower legs, weighing the great demon down.

The behemoth reared and spewed fire at its constraints, but Breaker's ice refused to melt, held together as it was by his very will. He turned back to Kron Sha'keth, knowing that battling the assassin would take all of his focus.

"Cronen, you fool!" The Alerian elf laughed as he removed his iron mask, "you missed your only chance there. How appropriate that your pathetic need to help others will be your undoing." Kron came to rest a short distance from Breaker, standing with hands akimbo, absolutely unarmed. "My sources tell me you nearly became a god," the elf scoffed, "you should have remained in the ether. Your time amongst the living has come to an end... at long last, I will have my revenge."

"Really, Sha'keth?" Josh spit the name like venom. "You've spent the past four years planning this moment... to challenge a demigod in single combat?" Cronen's right arm lashed out and caught an incoming imp by the throat. He snapped its neck as casually as breaking a twig and let the corpse fall in the dirt.

Shadows roiled around Sha'keth and braided into long, thick tendrils that emanated from the assassin like a squid's tentacles.

As the dark magic reached out Cronen raised both arms and summoned pure energy to his palms. A radiant white light surrounded him in a halo which Kron's shadows could only pick at. For a long moment the mortal enemies glared at one another, and then by unspoken agreement they both released their hold on the Eternal Tap. Breaker's light flickered and faded. Kron's tendrils withered and died.

"We'll never settle this with magic," Kron sneered around a curling upper lip.

"You're right," Josh responded, and leaped toward his adversary.

As musket fire boomed and the behemoth roared, the two old enemies locked in furious combat.