Chapter 2

Once in his room he unloaded all the supplies he bought and took out a map of the area. "Looks like I'll start at the river and work my way upstream till I find some trace of him. Or it."

After packing a small food pouch Vyoltin walked out to start his search. He followed the map to where he planned to start his search. He arrived at the river, but before he could start he felt the same intense killing gaze sweep across him. Ignoring the swords on his hip Vyoltin drew the two massive swords on his back. A normal man would normally only be able to use one of the swords at once, but Vyoltin was no normal man. He easily lifted a two-handed sword in each of his hands.

His right handed sword was crafted by the elven smith Eyrinla Heavy-Wind. An usual Elven woman. The Elven people are normally content being artists and living off the land. Most of their weapons are made from blending fallen branches with magic into light and finely crafted works of art. Eyrinla, however, found her place as a specialist blacksmith. She used the knowledge of blending nature and magic to blend minerals and magic instead or branches. One may assume that she made her weapons lighter with magic, but she didn't. She infused her weapons with extra weight as well as enchantments to strengthen, enhance reflexes and even increase the speed of the wielder.

In his left hand he used a weapon of traditional dwarven crafting. Though the maker was an unknow blacksmith, the weapon was of very high quality. Dwarven runes covered the hilt and blade. The runes gave the weapon enhancements to the sharpness, durability and even lessoned the weight. Though the blade had been lightened it still made an excellent offensive weapon for quick strikes to throw an enemy off balance. The light weight of the weapon also made it very easy to move into defensive positions to block and parry attacks. It serves as a weapon and shield.

Vyoltin felt the enchantments take effect the second he gripped his right sword. Strength flooded his body and his rage began to rise. "Come out now and fight me. You wait much longer and you wont stand a chance." Vyoltin began scouring the area with his vision. He stared into the forest looking for the smallest hint of movement. The gaze was still upon him. "Where are you!?"

All around there were multitudes of advantageous positions. Many of them ambush zones. Vyoltin had walked into the thing's trap. Quickly he spotted a strong defensive position created by the rubble of a small fort. Right to left. Up and down. Vyoltin scanned the entire area for any signs of his prey.

The tower's walls had collapsed in many areas giving enough room for him to swing his weapons. The basic structure was still mostly intact to prevent any possibility of a sneak attack from behind or the sides. Just one door led into the room he now entered. It looked as though it may have been the soldiers' dining hall. A few rotted chairs and tables were collapsed in the corner. A rat scurried out from under the rotted wood and out of the room.

Though he couldn't feel the gaze directly upon him the killing intent still flooded his senses and it was growing stronger every moment. Vyoltin readied himself and allowed his rage to rise. No matter what walked through the door he was ready. As he stared towards the door he suddenly felt a massive weight upon his back. Before he could react his helmet was wrenched from his head tearing muscles in his neck in the process. And his anger rose.

Knocked off balance and with searing pain burning through his neck he still turned and readied his counter attack. Unable to turn his neck to widen his view range quick enough he wasn't able to bring his sword up to block the next blow. Still he was unable to see what was attacking him. Vyoltin was thrown to the side as the attack landed on the left side of his ribcage. Even with his armor defending against the brunt of the blow he had his wind knocked out. What ever this thing was it was very strong and very fast. His anger rose higher and his rage took hold.

"Too late," Vyoltin said in a barely audible whisper.

The rage flowed freely as Vyoltin allowed it to over power him. Forcing air into his lungs he let out an unbrideled roar of fury. He launched himself to the side to avoid the next attack that was sure to come. Turning, he finally saw the creature. Vyoltin quickly sized up his apponent for weaknesses and strengths. He liked what he saw. No visible weaknesses.

The creature was more beast than man but could stand as upright as one when it wanted. It had fangs and claws as long as daggers. Muscles rippled its frame under fur as black as night. Where it should have had eyes it had holes devoid of any light or even any life. The thing was a summoned demon. A true demon that made Vyoltin's demon armor look like a child's play thing.

Then, it spoke. The voice clawed at the senses and brought spikes of pain into his ears. The unnatrual sound could have made any normal person go mad. "Give me your flesh."

"If you want flesh I'll feed you your own demon!" Vyoltin's rage and anger fully erupted and he used his berserker style to lunge forward. He swung his sword with every ounce of his strength in an over head strike. The arc of the sword cut through the air and down upon the demon.

At the last moment the demon side stepped the sword and let out an evil and haunting laugh. "Too slow mortal." Continuing the side step the demon stepped behind Vyoltin and slashed towards his exposed neck.

"No. You're too slow!" Vyoltin spun on the balls of his feet before planting them firmly. He brought up the dwarven weapon to parry the attack and stabbed with his Elven weapon. In less than the blink of an eye the demon was pierced through the spot where it should have had a heart.

A howl of anger and pain erupted from the demon. "How dare you! You lowly human!" Black fumes poured out of the wound and slowly the area around the wound cracked and crumbled. "You are marked for death," the demon wheezed.

"I've been marked before, but you are banished."

"For... A... Time..." The demon's face curled into a wicked smile, then he crumbled back to dirt and ashes.

Vyoltin looked down into the pile of dirt and ashes. Among the remains he saw the summoning items. A human jaw, decaying animal flesh and some berries he assumed were poisonous. The most basic and lowest of reagents. Had the summoner used more powerful ites the demon would have been a real challenge.

His helmet lay to one side. He picked it up and headed back to the village. After informing the governor he spoke to the town healer. Though not of much use the healer gave Vyoltin some herbs for the pain. His neck would heal, but slowly. He spent the rest of the day and that night resting before he left the next day. Though the people of the town tried to treat him and pay him for what he had done, he refused all gifts.