It had been twenty minutes since this battle had started, and Adria d'Nari's company of soldiers was gone. Surely, this most holy of wars, the Crusade, was meant to purge the Holy Land of evil, but she'd never imagined in her wildest dreams that the demons the Church proclaimed were in the Holy Land were real demons. But if she'd had any doubts about their existence before, the sudden appearance of the spectres she fought against now, and the slaughter of the twenty men she served with, was all the proof she'd needed.

She was alone against the last half-dozen or so of the reanimated skeletons as they advanced on her. She remained in her neutral stance, ready to strike out as they approached her. Each strike was carefully placed, and she never left herself exposed. She'd learned as much from her friends, and she intended to live on to keep their sacrifices from being in vain. She fought hard, and managed to survive the last wave of enemies, despite the injuries that she'd taken earlier in the melee. They'd come en masse, striking with weapons that seemed to pass right through their armor. Somehow, she'd only been struck with glancing blows.

Pain seized Adria, and she spun around, sword ready. The next attack came with such speed that it caught her as she was turning, and more pain greeted her. By the time she'd settled into a stance, she'd been struck once more.

It was not a man before her. It was some manner of demon, with long blades protruding from either of its arms, above its hands. Its hide was green, and three horns protruded from its head.

It swung its arm blades at her, and she barely managed to block the attacks. The thing was fast. By the time she returned to her neutral, the thing was already attacking again. It was pushing her into a defensive battle that she would not win.

So, she went on the offensive, a choice that seemed to surprise the monster before her. She landed blow after blow, strikes which the monster blocked deftly. However, when one of its blades snapped under one of her strikes, it was quickly apparent that they were not made to defend. This spurred Adria on, and she struck out at her foe again and again.

Finally, one of her strikes hit home. Her sword struck her foe at an upward angle, smashing through its shoulder at the armpit, breaking its arm and tearing it away. The thing screeched in agony, and struck out faster than Adria thought impossible, even for this unnatural foe.

The slash moved fast enough to break through her guard, and was to cut through her chain mail with incredible ease. However, the monster was more interested in fleeing the battle than in finishing Adria off.

She struggled to keep her bearings, looking for the hut that she had seen nearby. She saw the structure, and struggled forwards, feeling weaker with every step. Somehow, she managed to reach the hut's door flap, and rapped on it once before she collapsed.

When she came to, it was in a bed. There was no one else there. She was surprised to see that her injuries were wrapped, and her mail was folded on a chair by the bed. She sat up slowly, and when she felt no dizziness, she stood and explored his surroundings.

It was a small house, simply a bedroom, kitchen, and greeting room. In the greeting room, seated above an empty fireplace, was an empty golden scabbard with an eye motif present at the mouth and the tip. Seated underneath the scabbard was a stack of cards, with an odd design on the back, and an armband that seemed to fit the deck. Both looked dusty, and there was no one in the house. Still, something about the scabbard and cards that sent a chill up her spine.

Curiosity got the best of her, and Adria picked up the cards and began leafing through them. They were nothing like the Tarots that the other crusaders enjoyed gambling with. The scripts were Arabic, so she couldn't understand them, but the illustrations on them were vivid and lifelike, almost like the creatures had been sealed into them. The cards seemed to mostly depict warriors, or swords, though a few cards seemed more out of the ordinary. One portrayed a man clad in an unusual set of purple armor, wielding a green staff. Another depicted a metallic golden dragon.

One card in particular caught her eye, though. This card didn't have a picture. It was a silver blank, almost like a template. It intrigued her.

Setting the deck back down, she turned her attention to the scabbard. She reached her hand out to touch it.

"I see you've found my wife's things." An old voice said in broken English. Adria spun around to see an old man standing there. "Good to see you well." The old man said with a smile.

Adria sighed in relief, and bowed. "Thank you for saving my life." She said. "I doubt that I'd have lasted very long without you taking me into your house."

The old man smiled. "You won't waste away in the desert, Crusader knight or no."

Adria nodded. "Again, thank you." She turned back to the scabbard. "It's a beautiful piece. You said that it was your wife's?"

"Yes." The old man said, taking it down from the mantle. "Used them during the last crusade. She die good death twenty five years ago."

Adria's eyes widened at that. "The last crusade was fifty years ago. How old are you?"

The old man smiled. "Old enough to know how hard mail is to pierce, much less cut cleanly."

Then, the smile vanished. "What did the creatures look like? I need to know. Extremely important."

Adria blinked. "The creatures? I don't understand, you mean that wasn't some fever dream? That actually..." It all came crashing down on her. Oh God, that had actually happened. Her friends really were dead, those things really did exist, oh God oh God...

"Now is not time for drifting in thought!" The man said loudly. "I understand loss, but extremely important to know what happened!"

Adria saw how serious the man was, and nodded, composing herself. "Most of them were skeletal warriors. They weren't anything special. The one that really cut me up was different. Two horns curving down from each side of its head, and one from the forehead. Green and fleshy. Swords for hands, more or less. And as you observed, it cut through my mail like paper."

That seemed to enlighten the old man, who muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?" Adria asked.

"Mharba shyn." The man said. "Demon Warrior. Powerful creature. Lucky to be alive."

"Demon Warrior?" Adria asked. "How is that possible? What could bring things like those here?"

The old man shook his head. "Not what. Who. Damned self-serving organization called Brotherhood of Set."

Adria was stunned. "So you're saying that a member of some 'Brotherhood' managed to call those things forth? That they followed his commands? That he could summon more? How is that possible?"
The old man smiled. "Easy. I show you."

The man took the cards from the mantle, and led Adria outside. He slid the deck into the slot on the armband, and drew a card from it with a practiced precision and a serious air. Then, he held up the card, shouting something as he did. There was a bright flash from the card, and Adria looked away, shielding her eyes.

When she looked back, there was another person standing there. He was wearing leather armor and a cape. In his hand was a steel longsword. His chest and shoulders were protected by green plates, and a helmet with a wing motif sat on his head. However, the most distinguishing feature of the man before her was his ears.

They were pointed.

"Elven Swordsman." The old man said simply. "Reliable warrior." He turned to Adria, and tossed a card at her. Adria caught it deftly, and looked it over. It was a second Elven Swordsman. The art mirrored the creature before them perfectly.

"Hold card face out and say, 'Come forth, Elven Swordsman!'"

Adria looked at the old man like he was crazy. "You think that I can summon these things like that? That's witchcraft! I would burn in Hell for that!"

The old man shook his head. "No, is magic connected with afterlife. Treat cards and life with respect and honor, and be fine." He held up the card again, and shouted another phrase. The Elven Swordsman turned to a floating orb of light and vanished back into the card. "Treat cards and life poorly, as tools to end, and then burn in Hell." He smiled. "Is much to take in. I understand, went through same thing when I first learned. But is truth."

Adria still hesitated. "I'm not sure. I grew up my whole life with the Church. To just throw it away like that…" She shook her head. "It doesn't seem right."

The old man nodded. "Brotherhood will keep fighting. You know how hard to fight Demon Warrior. Not even strongest monster. Not close."

"Think it this way." The old man continued. "You using your abilities to fight evil. You try fighting old way, and nearly die. Time to change tactics." He smiled, and added, "Remember, crazy is doing same thing twice and expecting new result second time."

Adria nodded, and held the card up. "Come forth, Elven Swordsman!"