"Sir Alistair, those are the accused of corruption and association with the demonic."
The elderly man, warrior, whom Tymeon would have estimated as in healthy fifties, were he not pushed forth, stumbling, looked at the three prisoners before him with a clear distaste.
"Name?" The Inquisitor demanded, addressing the alleged cultist.
The would be cultist remained silent.
"What is his name?" He asked the armored man to his side
"He refused to say, we found him trying to sacrifice one of the villagers in an abandoned shack at the edge of the forest to the east. A man went missing, and we searched for him. Ended up with his heart almost cut out. The cultist tried to run away, and draw a dagger, but we overpowered and subdued him. He has been silent ever since."
The Inquisitor's features screwed in displeasure as he asked for a description of the sacrificial alter, and the room.
"It was a church altar, probably stolen from somewhere, and there was a dead goatman carcass hung on the wall, open from neck to groin, with its insides splattered beneath it, and some humanoid figure with four limbs, with spikes at their ends, was painted with blood nearby. There were also remains of other people that we found buried in a shallow hole behind."
"The limbs seemed bent like spider's, I think." Another commented. And received a glare from both the first speaker, and the Inquisitor.
The Inquisitor addressed the criminal in question, in a deep, commanding voice, as a thin, mousy looking man in a corner was writing in a scroll.
"You, who would not name yourself-stand accused of demon worshipping, murder and sacrificing to demons. What say you to these accusations, you slave of the Demon of Anguish? Do you deny killing the good people of this village, and who knows what other atrocities-in the name of Andariel?"
It was only then, that the man, who spoke not a word since the guards first saw him, appeared to have words to say.
His face twisted into an ugly rage as he replied. "Andariel? No, you self-righteous fool; She is nothing before my master! I am an envoy in the name of a power much greater. One beyond your imagining! I serve the Great Demon Na-Krul, and when he will awaken, and walk this world, the wake of horror that will follow will be so great, that the dark times in Tristram twenty years ago will be seen as a merciful reprieve! He will destroy the Prime Evils, and ru-"
"We have a confirmation, and a confession-did you write it, scribe?"
The mousy scribe nodded and replied with a "Yes, sir".
"Then for your corruption and consorting with demons, as well as murders, I sentence you to death!"
The now self-admitted cultist, who continued to glorify his demonic master, smiled gleefully and maliciously, as he suddenly gestured, and from his hand, a Fireball was launched and moving towards the one who condemned him, to kill him and his surrounding men in the explosion.
Only to collide with the Inquisitor, who ran to the front, holding forward his kite shield, which suddenly started as if changing into a glowing white frame, with a cross symbol in its middle, and nothing else, and the very air around him seemed to be saturated with power, as if the heavens decided to show their favor, in what could be an Aura the man seemed to have around him, which seemed to lessen the fireball, as it collided with the shield.
The next moment He charged forth, and in a swift move Tymeon only saw from that demon-Leah, that day in that mansion, was before the condemned, and struck with his mace.
The man who was proclaiming the glory and power of his demon lord without stop fell dead, from the hit on his head, finally silent.
The entire crowd was silent.
"S-sir? Are you alright?" one of the men finally asked.
The Inquisitor sheathed his mace into the belt, and the no longer glowing shield into his back.
"Yes, Bartleby, I am well enough to proceed with the next prisoner. I may be getting older, but I am still a Paladin of Westmarch!"
'A P-paladin of Westmarch?! Why did I pick that amulet up, what was I hoping for? I won't be able to get away from it now!' But Tymeon knew what he thought at the time he gleefully took the amulet. What he hoped to accomplish in his childish, ignorant, naiveté. He just hoped Leah won't take his soul to hell, after his own execution.
"What of the other two?" The Inquisitor, no, Paladin, asked.
"The boy seemed to be in a hurry to leave, and when we tried to question him, he dropped this. We found a witch's amulet just like that in the massacred farm, two weeks ago."
"Yes, I remember that…" Sir Alistair frowned, as he looked at Tymeon.
"The girl was found with a young man in the woods last night, and showed demonic traits when she tried to resist our arrest, the boy with her soon started panicking, and didn't know where he was, or how he got there."
"Hmmmmm…" The Paladin approached the pretty girl Tymeon remembered from before, 'and who could forget her?' and gestured to her with his outstretched right hand. A glowing white ball of… something, appeared before it.
"Do you know what that is, girl? This is a Holy Bolt! It can bring no harm to people, even healing and easing the good men and women it may strike, but no demon will ever find it anything but hurt and harm."
The girl seemed to flinch as the man, and the globe of holy energy got closer, trying get away from him, and somehow, only now did Tymeon notice that her hands were bound behind her back, and her feet were chained, the chain meeting in the middle, and from there going all the way to the hands of the man who ordered him arrested, as if on a leash.
As she got to the end of the chain, and the aging Paladin, on the other side, directly between her and the holder of her leash, and slowly getting closer, she started to panic.
"No! Get away! Please get him away-you handsome strong man-you wouldn't let a pretty girl suffer, would you?" however her pleas fell on deaf ears, and as the Holy Bolt touched her, she shrieked, in a haunting, unnatural way no human could, as burn marks appeared on her arms where she tried to cover herself with them from the Bolt, and her form shifted, just a bit.
And while her lovely young face was still panicking, it now had inhuman, red eyes instead of the previous pleasing blue, and a pair of small horns peaked at the sides of her head from her hair. Her chest actually got noticeably bigger, and the most noticeable of all- a pair of batlike, leathery wings spouted from her back.
It was a form familiar to those who knew something of demons, and to those who only just heard rumors and tales.
"A succubus!" The stunned Paladin murmured, his Holy Bolt disappearing- and the crowed of villagers around shouted for her death.
'Am I to die here soon, together with a demon and a cultist?' a stunned Tymeon thought.
Suddenly, bats flew to them, and started harassing the men, more and more appearing.
They tried to shoo the flying pests away, or kill them, in some cases, one of the villagers yelled- "Smoke! It's smoking from the direction of the storehouse! It's on fire!"
As most of the villagers ran to the direction of the storehouse, and the Paladin and his tried to rid themselves of the bats, a fog descended on them, making visibility, and even breathing, harder. A Roar was heard nearby, and a monstrous demon struck one of the men. A sickening crunch was heard as the man fell, to never rise again.
Through the smoke, Tymeon thought he saw a shadow, with long horns, carved backwards, and spikes, as another man yelled, and gone silent.
"It's hunting us!" One of the men fearfully exclaimed.
The paladin called for order among the men, but another roar had them ignoring him in their panic, as another was silenced midsentence.
Some ran away in fear.
The smoke began clearing, however, and revealed more about the nature of the foe.
It was Her, the demon Leah, looking as monstrous and terrible as the day he first saw her, as if reminding him, that despite her normal, casual words during their journey, she was anything but.
Claws bloody and tail swinging from side to side, she called, in a surprisingly human voice.
"Walk away please, I don't want to fight you!"
The Sir Alistair paled as he saw her. And then seemed to lose himself.
"No! You cannot be here! You are dead! They defeated you! They told me they vanquished you! They we marched into hell itself and slew you!"
He then activated his Holy Shield, and Charged at her, in panicked fury, only to have her duck, and turn sideways. Her own blows were blocked by the shield, and when she sent a Firestorm, the flame that attacked him did no visible damage, while another of his men screamed, as he rolled on the ground, burning.
"What are you waiting for? Help me! They wanted to kill you too, and would have already finished executing us both if not for that demon! They still might, if we don't escape now!" The girl-succubus? Called, breaking Tymeon from his shock.
He swallowed, then nodded to himself, and hurried to her side, stopping just out of reach. "She is my demon- if you harm me she will kill you, just so you know!" He really hoped she believed his lie, as the claws she had in her current, winged form looked deadly.
She looked at him incredulously, and then nodded her agreement.
Tymeon looked around for anything sharp, and finding a sword, near a dead guardsman, took it and hurried to the side of the succubus.
"You liar- I will get you from hell and drag you there! Don't you dare! I-"
Whatever else she was, was left unsaid, as he interrupted her-"Turn around, I will cut at the rope holding you."
As she reluctantly did so, he cut her bindings, trying hardest not to cut her as well, and with her arms released, both hurried to the chain leashing her, as a demon and paladin fought in the background, maybe for his life.
Later, Tymeon would wonder at the irony of the Paladin Sir Alistair, probably intending to kill him, and the Demon, Leah maybe (hopefully) to save him (he did NOT want to think about other reasons she could have for charging in like that).
The chain leash was found tied to a wooden post, and Tymeon was trying to think what to do, when the succubus clawed at the post, again and again, freeing enough of the chain to be untied.
No longer bound, winged demoness slashed the last man yet to flee in terror or fall at his face with her claws, a moment later he after looking into her eyes he dropped as well. She next took flight, and dropped, with a leg stretched downwards, kicking the Paladin in the back of his head.
"That's for burning me, you bastard!"
Surprisingly, a groan was heard, as Sir Alistair tried, and failed, to rise.
"Must we keep fighting? Let us leave without farther violence, and we will not trouble you anymore. Your men are all either ran or down; only you remain." Leah tried to reason with the man before her.
"No…You are not Him." The Paladin seemed to exhale with some relief. "But I cannot allow you leave unchallenged either. To allow evil uncontested would be a betrayal of the last remaining of my oaths as a Paladin of Zakarum! I am to find demons wherever I find them."
"But I cannot help being what I am, and would not have attacked you, had you accepted to talk, rather than attack right away. Am I condemned for being a demon?"
"You ARE a Demon-by your very nature you belong in hell and will do evil, and tempt others to it! No matter how hard you might struggle against it, no matter how much you may dislike it, you are, by nature a corrupting force of evil. Just as I am a Paladin for the Light-we are who and what we are, and our nature will show through."
He then moaned in pain, stopped his struggle, closing his eyes.
"No! Don't you die on me! You hear me! Don't you dare die on me!"
Leah ran to his side and crouched proceeding to hastily undo the clasps of his armor, now gaining red stains. Underneath was a red stained shirt, and under it was revealed a deep chest wound, one that seemed old, and reopened, with familiar claw marks, only bigger. At the back of her head she sensed the dark curse within the scar-a curse that reactivated in her presence after its dormancy-and the familiar feel of its power.
Author Notes: This is my longest chapter yet. I initially intended to separate it into two at the roar(just before the fight), but changed my mind-do you prefer its present form, or advice me to separate it into two chapters?
Anything familiar about Sir Alistair?
If you have advice, ideas or suggestions, if you have a character you would like me to add (minor char in a minor role) PM me.
Please Review, it makes updates faster. ;)