'In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends'
A warm breeze blew on Sarin's neck softly, coating his bed in a shroud of warmth, which was unusual since it had only been that day he had shoveled tons of snow from his garden.
The grizzled old warrior rose his head from the comfort of his bed and opened his eyes, wondering what could have woken him at such an infernal hour of the night. Upon seeing nothing to suggest anything was amiss, his eyes drooped, beckoning him to surrender to weight of sleep dragging him into a dreamless darkness. Though the comfort of rest tempted him, he knew something was not as it should be, he rose his head to look at the fire.
It was not the fire that blew in the heat, yet it was a warmth he had never encountered, it sapped his energy like the heat of the southern lands he had explored many years ago. The feeling came to him suddenly, he felt as though he had been plunged into a scorching desert.
Turning over he looked across the bed and frowned, Mendela, his wife of eleven years was not there. A bang echoed through the room and the window doors, which were half open and blowing in the warm breeze. He stood, stretching and thinking perhaps his wife had arisen from the bed and gone for a midnight snack, waking him by accident when she left the room. He had always been a light sleeper, being a soldier did that that to a man after years of raids and ambushes by bandits in the wilderness, sometimes even when the unit was stopped for the night.
Sarin pulled his tired body across the room, his eyes half closed as he grasped the window doors and attempted to close them, as he stood in front of the window, a flash of burning light crashed into the side of the house. A cry arose from the depths of the manor house and Sarin felt the hard stone floor under him as something crashed into him, sending him reeling and rolling until he hit the fireplace. He leapt up to confront the thief he suspected had jumped through the window at the same time he had reached it, though it was not a thief that faced him.
A winged creature of purple and black flesh stood in his window, colossal wings reaching from one side of the room to the other in all it's glory. It took a step towards him, hissing from envenomed teeth on it's gnarled face, with a sudden movement, the beast swept across the room, crashing into Sarin's muscular body. He grasped the claws as they slashed, but the creature was stronger than he. It tackled him to the ground, biting deep into his flesh, tearing a chuck from his shoulder.
Sarin screamed, and the beast cried out too. A third scream, a young boys echoed through the hallway outside. The cry Sarin recognized as his youngest sons. Pushing hard against the beast with all the might he could muster from his shattered arm, he slammed it's head onto the hard stone fireplace and it released it's vice like grip on him. He brandished his fist from his left arm which was still on one piece, smashing down onto the face of the monster. It scrambled back, surprised at his sudden burst of strength.
The door burst open and the ring of a blade, followed by a flash of steel appeared, illuminated by the embers of the dying fireplace. The sword, an Akaviri Katana of military design, swept high, decapitating the winged nightmare before it could turn to face it's new foe.
"My Lord," the familiar voice of Dwail said, a mercenary hired to protect Sarin's gold vault," thank the nine you still live,"
"My sons," Sarin said, staggering from the deep bite," I heard their screams,"
"I have sent one of the others to help them get out," Dwail said.
"What the hell is going on Dwail?" Sarin asked.
"I don't know," Dwail replied," the monsters came from nowhere, theres no time no, we must find the rest of your family,"
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The two men emerged into the hall, which was clouded with thick black smoke which was accompanied by the smell of burning wood and flesh. Another cry rang out from the floor below and the sounds of battle sounded for a few seconds, then silence followed a moment later. Thudding from below told them that someone was coming up the stairs, heavy feet and distorted voices from an unknown creature in an ancient forgotten language spoke words that chilled Sarin's spine.
Sarin rose a finger to his lips as the two men took hidden positions, one on either side of the stairwell. Dwail was the only one of the two men who was armed and Sarin had seen him handle himself fairly well in a fight before. The mercenary was on a better wage than most hired hands could say, he was a devoted man to his cause and would not fail Sarin.
The door opened and a boy, Valus, Sarin's youngest ran through without seeing either man hidden. Sarin yearned to reach out and bring his boy to safety, to let him know that he was not alone, but he had no time for the action even if he had tried. Two figures pursued the boy, clan in black armour which was laden with specks of blood and with what could have been the remains of any human organ.
"No!" Sarin said, kicking forward into the stomach of the unaware humanoid.
It barely flinched and brandished a blade of the darkest metal and spun around to face Sarin, grasping him by the neck and throwing him into the wall.
"You dare to challenge one of our kind mortal?" the humanoid said," since you are the only one of these pathetic dogs who is worth our time, you will have the honor of serving as the dressing on my next meal. Kill the boy Ka'uth, this one we take with us,"
Dwail's sword flashed again, severing the head from the second demon like man and the second turned to face the warrior, who was only dressed in his bedclothes. The demon slowly circled him, watching the man as he switched the blade from hand to hand nervously, he had never faced such a foe. It's face w twisted and broken, the result of many battles and war wounds. It's expression could only be described as pure evil, it smiled at his foolishness, yet it was a smile that said he took pleasure in slaying men.
"Your soul is mine," it said, moving low with unnatural speed despite it's heavy looking armour it wore.
The blades clashed, blue sparks flying as the two swords struck midway between the two. He spun the katana low, to strike at the demon's kneecap and immobilize him, it moved too fast switching hands and parrying the stroke and knocking Dwail back against the wall. The monster took it's sword in two hands and thrust it towards his stomach, Dwail sidestepped, swinging the blade high. The demon met the blow and returned it's own, it struck again, this time at Dwail's heart. Dwail ducked, slashing a the demon's waist, spinning under it's arm before it could recover and thrusting the sword through it's back. It stood for a moment longer, then collapsed, it's body becoming naught but dust.
"Valus?" Sarin called," where are you?"
"Here father," a child's voice replied and the boy emerged from a room.
"Come," Dwail said,' we must find the others, My Lord,"
As Sarin stood, a women's scream rang out that froze his heart. The injured man stood up and ran down the stairs, leaving his boy with Dwail. He came to the dining room where three bodies lay, two of them appeared to be the savaged remains of some form of human, probably some of his guards. Next to them was one of the black armored demons, choking in it's own blood and staining the carpet crimson.
"My Lord!" a voice said.
He turned to see two men emerged from a side room, both clad in heavy steel armour and carrying heavy axes. One of them threw a filled scabbard across the room, which Sarin caught and gripped the ruby encrusted hilt with his good arm. The blade sang as it was drawn, his family emblem, a richly gold and ruby plated katana engraved with blessings of Akatosh to strike down dark spirits.
Sarin and his two guards knocked aside the front doors of his house, stepping onto the blood stained snow. Bodies of guards, maids and a child lay at the doors, blood covering their back and black feathered arrows lodged in them where they had tried to flee. In the centre of the hell was a giant flaming portal, surrounded by molten rocks and melting the snow around it. None of the creatures were around, but it didn't matter, it was already too late.
"My Lord," one of the guards said, kneeling by the body of a slain women.
Sarin fell to his knees, recognizing her as Mendela, his wife. In her arms lay his other boy and their newborn, all cut down as they tried to get away.
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" Sarin screamed in to night.
His head hit the ground as he fell forward, taking them into his embrace, though they were dead and already cold.
"They came from that," Dwail said, leaving the house with Valus, the last survivor of his family.
Sarin picked up his sword and stared in the evil portal, only one thing on his mind, vengeance.
"Muster the survivors," Sarin growled, an inhuman fury taking over his mortal shell," I will have my vengeance,"