Chapter Seven: A Chance at Redemption
Akakios woke up, and instantly regretted it. He draped his arm over his face, covering his eyes to block out the unwelcome sunlight. Rolling to his side, a mental thought penetrated the dense layer of sleep that shrouded the demon's brain, something about how odd it was he could smell grass.
Akakios rolled onto his stomach, attempting to get comfortable, but wasn't able to; his mattress was rather hard and somewhat lumpy. He reached out for his blanket to cover himself up, and couldn't find it. Figuring he had kicked the blanket off his bed in the night for whatever reason, Akakios rolled back over and flung his legs over the side of his bed, and was rather surprised to discover he wasn't in it.
After a few minutes of panic, Akakios remembered the previous nights events with shocking clarity. Groaning, the demon grabbed hold of a wagon wheel and pulled himself painfully to his feet; sleeping on the ground had done a number on his back. He stood up strait and took a moment to examine his surroundings.
In all honesty, the place in the daylight didn't look nearly as bad as it did on a moonless night. While still shoddy, nothing appeared to be in emanate danger of collapsing, not including himself. Strangely, the place almost had a idyllic, pleasant feel to it, as he watched various people going on about their daily business. Akakios limped over to a large chest and sat down on it, trying to gather his thoughts. He was interrupted from his mental exercise by a friendly voice beckoning him welcome.
Akakios looked up, surprised as a man of medium height and build approached him, sticking out a hand. "I'm Warriv, the leader of this Caravan." Akakios stuck out his hand and introduced himself in turn.
"Akakios, paladin in training," he replied, shaking Warriv's hand.
"Well met, good paladin! Tell me, what brings you out here to this place?"
"Me and a few others were sent to the Rogue Monastery. Fully trained paladins, you understand. We were supposed to route out some form of demonic infestation, but we were ambushed. I...am the only survivor," informed Akakios, slowly coming to grasp with the information himself. The previous night, it had all seemed somehow distant, like it couldn't be really happening. Relating this tale to someone else, especially with physical pain to reinforce his own existence, caused the message to sink into his own brain deeper than he would like.
"How did you survive? You vanquished your enemies all by yourself?" asked Warriv, a look of even greater respect crossing his face.
"No," replied the demon. "I let them die."
"Pardon me?"
"I let them die," repeated Akakios, with greater emphasis. He reached out and grasped Warriv's collar. "I watched them die, and then I ran. I didn't fight, I just ran for my own life and let them sacrifice themselves for nothing." Akakios slowly slumped to the ground, letting go of Warriv's shirt in the process. Warriv took several steps backwards as the crazed man slowly collapsed in front of him.
"I, uh, see. I'm sure you did your best, to, uh..." began Warriv.
"No," interrupted Akakios. "I didn't even try. I let them die..." Warriv braved stepping forward again, and put a hand on the crumbled demon's shoulder.
"It doesn't sound like there was anything you could do. I mean, if they weren't able to repel the demons that attacked them, you probably would have just died with them," counseled the wagon teamster.
"I should have," whimpered Akakios. "I should have died with them..."
"Now isn't the time for regrets," scolded Warriv. "I'm sure you'll find a chance to redeem yourself, but first thing you need to do is contact your superior paladins and update them."
"You're right," whispered Akakios, his voice a horse whisper as he tried to stench the flow of tears running invisibly down his cheeks. "You're right," the demon repeated, this time with strength in his voice as he managed to regain control over himself. "The rogues will also demand and explanation for my presence here." Akakios stood up, as strait and proud as his aching back would allow. "Who is in charge of this...uh" Akakios gestured around himself.
"We call in the Rogue Encampment," replied Warriv. "And the person to speak to would probably be Akara," he added, waving his arm towards a distant, purple tent.
"Thank you, Warriv," replied Akakios, who then turned and marched briskly to the tent that had been indicated to him, once nearly stepping on a chicken.
"Funny thing," Warriv said to a nearby rouge. "He looks a bit old to be a trainee."
As the demon drew near the tent, he heard a commotion of loud voices. He peaked his head inside and saw a withered old woman speaking to another girl who's temper seemed to be as flaming red as her hair.
"Excuse me," ventured the demon, to which he was instantly met with one look of questioning and one belligerent glare.
"Ah yes, the supposed cowardly paladin. Sit down, I'll deal with you in a second," barked the red head, and turned her attention back to the old woman. Akakios sincerely hoped it was the old woman who was Akara.
Akakios took a seat on a small stool as he listened to the conversation, and examined the contents of the tent. It was lined with makeshift shelves, all of which were filled with bottles of exotic looking liquids. The demon causally examined a few of the labels, the titles of which ranged all the way from, "Min. Health Potion," to "Dragon Egg Yolk". Akakios suppressed a shudder when he saw a jar entitled, "Preserved Demon Heart," and decided to return his attention to the pair in front of him.
"Akara, I'm telling you, they're planning a raid. We need to stop them before they're able to attack us!" Ah, at least Akakios' prayer about Akara's identity had been answered.
"We find ourselves in complete agreement child, but I think it unwise to send any of our rogues into the Den of Evil. I fear that the darkness emanating from that place may prove to powerful," replied Akara, in a smooth, motherly tone.
"Then we'll have to fortify the walls, possibly even seal the gate," replied the other rogue, who began pacing as she spoke.
"Then they will simply wait until all our food reserves have run out,"
"I'd like to them try," the other rogue replied, smirking. "We still have access to the waypoint."
"Er, excuse me," interrupted Akakios. He was met with what is most commonly known as the Icy Glare of Death from the younger rogue and a slightly appraising look from Akara. "This Den, or whatever, where might that be located?" The younger rogue snorted.
"Why, have you decided you want to join your companions in death? It's in the Blood Moor, if you must know."
"Blood Moor?" inquired Akakios.
"YOU'RE SITTING IN IT!" barked the young rogue, with a look in her eyes that said she was measuring the distance between her and his neck. "Now if you don't mind, I'm trying to figure out how to defend our outpost that you so deeply enjoyed last night." with that, she spun around to face Akara and started debating on where to post the guards for the upcoming attack. The demon slipped quietly out of the tent and began to ponder the information he was given.
*****
"Execution?" breathed Jennifer, her eyes growing wide. "It can't be true, we haven't executed anyone in years!"
"Like I said," replied Roswell, "It could just be rumor."
"Wouldn't doubt it if it was true though," replied Enric. "Alvis has been a bit funny lately."
"He'd never go that far, surely?" asked Jennifer. Both Enric and Roswell shrugged. Jennifer shook her head to clear her thoughts, then remembered the reason she was there to begin with.
"Listen, I know this is a bit, er, unexpected," she began. "But, do you think that Akakios, you know..." Enric sighed.
"Yes, he has all the usual human bodily functions. Why do people keep asking that same stupid..."
"No, that wasn't what I was about to ask," replied Jennifer, shaking her head.
"All right, so what's on your mind?" inquired Roswell, spooning some thick, creamy, and overall bland paste into his mouth.
"I, uh..." Jennifer floundered, she suddenly realized she felt humiliated. "Just,...nothing, forget it," and then she quickly hurried away. Enric turned to Roswell, snorting.
"Betchya it was the bodily functions thing," he said darkly.
*****
"I demand to know the meaning behind his imprisonment," replied Samuel. His voice was calm, yet carried a strong undertone of violence.
"Well Sam," began Alvis with sneer, "You see, when you arrest someone, you put them in a little box so they won't escape. Oh, we could go by the honor system, you know, let the prisoners guard themselves, but occasionally that doesn't pan out."
"I meant" seethed Samuel, his blood pressure slowly rising beyond healthy levels, "What has he done to be jailed?"
"Treason, assault on a brother paladin, and demonic infestation," Alvis rallied off.
"And your evidence that he has committed any of this?" asked Samuel slowly, trying to maintain his calm.
"What evidence do I need?" snapped Alvis. "He's guilty, it's obvious!"
"Not to the rest of us."
"Then perhaps you need to be arrested as well, because it is blatantly apparent that what ever corrupted him has overcome you too." Samuel did not answer, instead running his tongue across his teeth, cutting his oral muscle until he could taste blood. This was not the time or place for such a confrontation.
"We shall have the trial as soon as possible," said Samuel, his every word dripping with menace. "I'm sure our judges will be able to see that Morgan has committed no wrong and is as pure as ever."
"The trial won't be here," smiled Alvis, his mouth twisting upwards into a victorious grin. "It will be in Kurast, where they'll get to hear all about his, shall we say, previous endeavors. Bringing a demonic beast into our very midst, I ask you..."
"Akakios is as loyal to us as he is brave and strong!" Samuel roared, his voice echoing across the stone walls. "I'd bet my life on it!" Alvis' simpering grin didn't even flicker.
"Prepare to lose then," he whispered.
*****
So far, Akakios had only took part in one battle, and his primary action was escaping from it. The only shelter he had was being threatened, and the inhabitants of said shelter considered him to be a liability. He had no money, no means of contacting his paladin brethren, and no allies. The demon was unpleasantly surprised to discover that he had lost both his shield and his sword in his attempt to escape, his only armor was thin clothing, and his head was protected by a flimsy mask.
Akakios approached the gate out of the Rogue Encampment and cracked his neck. It looked like it was going to be a fun day.
Akakios woke up, and instantly regretted it. He draped his arm over his face, covering his eyes to block out the unwelcome sunlight. Rolling to his side, a mental thought penetrated the dense layer of sleep that shrouded the demon's brain, something about how odd it was he could smell grass.
Akakios rolled onto his stomach, attempting to get comfortable, but wasn't able to; his mattress was rather hard and somewhat lumpy. He reached out for his blanket to cover himself up, and couldn't find it. Figuring he had kicked the blanket off his bed in the night for whatever reason, Akakios rolled back over and flung his legs over the side of his bed, and was rather surprised to discover he wasn't in it.
After a few minutes of panic, Akakios remembered the previous nights events with shocking clarity. Groaning, the demon grabbed hold of a wagon wheel and pulled himself painfully to his feet; sleeping on the ground had done a number on his back. He stood up strait and took a moment to examine his surroundings.
In all honesty, the place in the daylight didn't look nearly as bad as it did on a moonless night. While still shoddy, nothing appeared to be in emanate danger of collapsing, not including himself. Strangely, the place almost had a idyllic, pleasant feel to it, as he watched various people going on about their daily business. Akakios limped over to a large chest and sat down on it, trying to gather his thoughts. He was interrupted from his mental exercise by a friendly voice beckoning him welcome.
Akakios looked up, surprised as a man of medium height and build approached him, sticking out a hand. "I'm Warriv, the leader of this Caravan." Akakios stuck out his hand and introduced himself in turn.
"Akakios, paladin in training," he replied, shaking Warriv's hand.
"Well met, good paladin! Tell me, what brings you out here to this place?"
"Me and a few others were sent to the Rogue Monastery. Fully trained paladins, you understand. We were supposed to route out some form of demonic infestation, but we were ambushed. I...am the only survivor," informed Akakios, slowly coming to grasp with the information himself. The previous night, it had all seemed somehow distant, like it couldn't be really happening. Relating this tale to someone else, especially with physical pain to reinforce his own existence, caused the message to sink into his own brain deeper than he would like.
"How did you survive? You vanquished your enemies all by yourself?" asked Warriv, a look of even greater respect crossing his face.
"No," replied the demon. "I let them die."
"Pardon me?"
"I let them die," repeated Akakios, with greater emphasis. He reached out and grasped Warriv's collar. "I watched them die, and then I ran. I didn't fight, I just ran for my own life and let them sacrifice themselves for nothing." Akakios slowly slumped to the ground, letting go of Warriv's shirt in the process. Warriv took several steps backwards as the crazed man slowly collapsed in front of him.
"I, uh, see. I'm sure you did your best, to, uh..." began Warriv.
"No," interrupted Akakios. "I didn't even try. I let them die..." Warriv braved stepping forward again, and put a hand on the crumbled demon's shoulder.
"It doesn't sound like there was anything you could do. I mean, if they weren't able to repel the demons that attacked them, you probably would have just died with them," counseled the wagon teamster.
"I should have," whimpered Akakios. "I should have died with them..."
"Now isn't the time for regrets," scolded Warriv. "I'm sure you'll find a chance to redeem yourself, but first thing you need to do is contact your superior paladins and update them."
"You're right," whispered Akakios, his voice a horse whisper as he tried to stench the flow of tears running invisibly down his cheeks. "You're right," the demon repeated, this time with strength in his voice as he managed to regain control over himself. "The rogues will also demand and explanation for my presence here." Akakios stood up, as strait and proud as his aching back would allow. "Who is in charge of this...uh" Akakios gestured around himself.
"We call in the Rogue Encampment," replied Warriv. "And the person to speak to would probably be Akara," he added, waving his arm towards a distant, purple tent.
"Thank you, Warriv," replied Akakios, who then turned and marched briskly to the tent that had been indicated to him, once nearly stepping on a chicken.
"Funny thing," Warriv said to a nearby rouge. "He looks a bit old to be a trainee."
As the demon drew near the tent, he heard a commotion of loud voices. He peaked his head inside and saw a withered old woman speaking to another girl who's temper seemed to be as flaming red as her hair.
"Excuse me," ventured the demon, to which he was instantly met with one look of questioning and one belligerent glare.
"Ah yes, the supposed cowardly paladin. Sit down, I'll deal with you in a second," barked the red head, and turned her attention back to the old woman. Akakios sincerely hoped it was the old woman who was Akara.
Akakios took a seat on a small stool as he listened to the conversation, and examined the contents of the tent. It was lined with makeshift shelves, all of which were filled with bottles of exotic looking liquids. The demon causally examined a few of the labels, the titles of which ranged all the way from, "Min. Health Potion," to "Dragon Egg Yolk". Akakios suppressed a shudder when he saw a jar entitled, "Preserved Demon Heart," and decided to return his attention to the pair in front of him.
"Akara, I'm telling you, they're planning a raid. We need to stop them before they're able to attack us!" Ah, at least Akakios' prayer about Akara's identity had been answered.
"We find ourselves in complete agreement child, but I think it unwise to send any of our rogues into the Den of Evil. I fear that the darkness emanating from that place may prove to powerful," replied Akara, in a smooth, motherly tone.
"Then we'll have to fortify the walls, possibly even seal the gate," replied the other rogue, who began pacing as she spoke.
"Then they will simply wait until all our food reserves have run out,"
"I'd like to them try," the other rogue replied, smirking. "We still have access to the waypoint."
"Er, excuse me," interrupted Akakios. He was met with what is most commonly known as the Icy Glare of Death from the younger rogue and a slightly appraising look from Akara. "This Den, or whatever, where might that be located?" The younger rogue snorted.
"Why, have you decided you want to join your companions in death? It's in the Blood Moor, if you must know."
"Blood Moor?" inquired Akakios.
"YOU'RE SITTING IN IT!" barked the young rogue, with a look in her eyes that said she was measuring the distance between her and his neck. "Now if you don't mind, I'm trying to figure out how to defend our outpost that you so deeply enjoyed last night." with that, she spun around to face Akara and started debating on where to post the guards for the upcoming attack. The demon slipped quietly out of the tent and began to ponder the information he was given.
*****
"Execution?" breathed Jennifer, her eyes growing wide. "It can't be true, we haven't executed anyone in years!"
"Like I said," replied Roswell, "It could just be rumor."
"Wouldn't doubt it if it was true though," replied Enric. "Alvis has been a bit funny lately."
"He'd never go that far, surely?" asked Jennifer. Both Enric and Roswell shrugged. Jennifer shook her head to clear her thoughts, then remembered the reason she was there to begin with.
"Listen, I know this is a bit, er, unexpected," she began. "But, do you think that Akakios, you know..." Enric sighed.
"Yes, he has all the usual human bodily functions. Why do people keep asking that same stupid..."
"No, that wasn't what I was about to ask," replied Jennifer, shaking her head.
"All right, so what's on your mind?" inquired Roswell, spooning some thick, creamy, and overall bland paste into his mouth.
"I, uh..." Jennifer floundered, she suddenly realized she felt humiliated. "Just,...nothing, forget it," and then she quickly hurried away. Enric turned to Roswell, snorting.
"Betchya it was the bodily functions thing," he said darkly.
*****
"I demand to know the meaning behind his imprisonment," replied Samuel. His voice was calm, yet carried a strong undertone of violence.
"Well Sam," began Alvis with sneer, "You see, when you arrest someone, you put them in a little box so they won't escape. Oh, we could go by the honor system, you know, let the prisoners guard themselves, but occasionally that doesn't pan out."
"I meant" seethed Samuel, his blood pressure slowly rising beyond healthy levels, "What has he done to be jailed?"
"Treason, assault on a brother paladin, and demonic infestation," Alvis rallied off.
"And your evidence that he has committed any of this?" asked Samuel slowly, trying to maintain his calm.
"What evidence do I need?" snapped Alvis. "He's guilty, it's obvious!"
"Not to the rest of us."
"Then perhaps you need to be arrested as well, because it is blatantly apparent that what ever corrupted him has overcome you too." Samuel did not answer, instead running his tongue across his teeth, cutting his oral muscle until he could taste blood. This was not the time or place for such a confrontation.
"We shall have the trial as soon as possible," said Samuel, his every word dripping with menace. "I'm sure our judges will be able to see that Morgan has committed no wrong and is as pure as ever."
"The trial won't be here," smiled Alvis, his mouth twisting upwards into a victorious grin. "It will be in Kurast, where they'll get to hear all about his, shall we say, previous endeavors. Bringing a demonic beast into our very midst, I ask you..."
"Akakios is as loyal to us as he is brave and strong!" Samuel roared, his voice echoing across the stone walls. "I'd bet my life on it!" Alvis' simpering grin didn't even flicker.
"Prepare to lose then," he whispered.
*****
So far, Akakios had only took part in one battle, and his primary action was escaping from it. The only shelter he had was being threatened, and the inhabitants of said shelter considered him to be a liability. He had no money, no means of contacting his paladin brethren, and no allies. The demon was unpleasantly surprised to discover that he had lost both his shield and his sword in his attempt to escape, his only armor was thin clothing, and his head was protected by a flimsy mask.
Akakios approached the gate out of the Rogue Encampment and cracked his neck. It looked like it was going to be a fun day.