The beginning of their quest had been a battle of the minds. Who could they trust, and who should they hate? How would they venture to their destination? What would they do when they reached the Demon Gate? Elite was sick of asking the same questions. He preferred to get on with it and keep it simple - Get to the target, take action and move on. Sorian had been the man to remove the frustration of politics off Elite’s shoulders, this was a strong point that made them a good team.

Etherea had sheltered them for the night, the aging walls of their Inn “The Lost Sailors Widow” were enough for a single night’s rest but nothing more. They now stood on the outskirts of town as they waited for the rest of the group. The dry musty scent of the Tular Plains blew in from the north of their position, a horrid smell that Sorian saw as a sign of the death that was to come. Then, the sudden approach of a galloping horse suggested more than just a bad smell. The blood-stained saddle and adrenaline fueled sprint said all it needed to. Shrieks erupted so loud they echoed into the maze of streets for everyone to hear and drew the eyes of anyone bearing a sword.

Anyone who worked in the hillside fields came charging back into town like panicked rats running from rushing water. Sorian waded past the scrambling bodies of frightened early morning citizens, his hood pulled back and his sword drawn. They slowly walked up the path, eyes focused on the demonic looking silhouettes that formed under the burnt orange of the morning sun. Only the early risers of the morning were up to witness them arrive, but soon the town of Ethera would awaken.

“A scouting party perhaps?” Sorian shouted over the fearful cries. “One of us should wake the others.”

“Perhaps… If you consider them intelligent enough to form such a plan.” Elite took long, strong strides as he followed closely. His appearance gave the locals a fright as they tried to flee into town, rapidly changing direction upon sight of him. “Let us engage. The others will have to catch up.”

Somewhat humanoid in appearance, the first demons were quick on their feet. They were disfigured with scars and deformed with extra limbs, horns and claws that protruded from their various extremities. Some even carried weapons; dark metallic blades that curved and twisted unlike anything forged in the modern world.

Sorian glared back into the fearsome beast's blood red eyes. Raising his sword above his head he braced with both hands as the demon drove down its horn-shaped hand. It landed with a clang as the metal of Sorians sword met his attack, but before a test of strength could commence Sorian slipped under its arm and twirled into a long deep slice that ripped into the demon’s torso. It roared in what could not be determined as either pain or enthusiasm for the fight, but as Sorian followed up with a swift beheading it slumped to the floor. Sorian’s scimitar style blade was as sharp as ever, so clean was the cut that any mere mortal would have died from the initial blow.

Elite, trusting in Sorians capability, did not watch. Raising his cleaver above his head he drove the rusty blade down in an angular attack. The second demon, appearing solo in its approach, ran into its demise against Elite. The fusion of Elite’s physical force and the weight of the delyn blade cut through the demon in a single blow, shoulder to hip, before jamming clumsily into the ground.

Knowing he could take a moment, Elite watched as the demon slipped off his weapon and landed halved upon the ground. He stomped his foot into the face of the gurgling demon and smushed it into the dirt.

“Sorian… What are you doing?”

Sorian was knelt by the demon, blood filling the dirt at his knees, and ran his finger against the crudely bladed shards that had been forced into the horn to form it into some sort of mace. “They made it here faster than anticipated… And they are better armed than I would have expected.”

Elite pulled his cleaver from the ground and knocked on it with his knuckles .“Stop wasting time… There are more demons to slay.”

Elite stepped away to engage further combat, the few citizens of Dark Elves that had evacuated the surrounding area were back within the town, but with no walls to protect Etherea only the town guard and any armed locals could protect the rest of the populace.

—---

Elite and Sorian laid waste to the demons before them, effectively defending from the front as they waited for their colleagues to make an appearance. Gradually the rest joined the fight, but there had been little time to converse, as the sheer amount of demons that were making their way to Etherea was no small number. The idea of Sorian’s scouting party seemed far-fetched at this point.

Elite paused as he found a moment. Blood dripped from the rust of the cleaver and the bodies of the lesser demons lay at his feet. Even with Sorian’s youth-like agility he could not avoid the staining spray of the rotting blood from the demon corpses. Their new allies, Leoric and Emi, still separated by the demon horde, battled not too far from their position - using a thick stone wall of a large house to protect their rear as they thought side by side. It was thanks to Emi’s boat that they were able to be here for this battle, without it any slower ship would have been arriving today, probably to a besieged or destroyed settlement.

“What a mess… There’s simply too many to stop this town from being overrun.” Sorian wiped his blade clean with some spare cloth.

“Are you get…” Elite paused his response as he turned and cleaved another demon into the earth. “Are you getting tired?”

“As spritely as I am… Age has its limits…. Plus, while I see Emi and Leoric… Where is Mr Veritas?”