Apostles of Doom

Sir Lady Serah shook her head, staring in shock at the being. “I’m sorry, but did Melissance just say you are a demon?”

Salvatore grinned mischievously, tilting his head from side to side as if the term was flexible. “Technically, yes, in that I am not a mortal even upon the Planes of Man. I was formerly a seraph in the service of a certain deity whose name I may no longer say.”

Sir Samwell snorted loudly, causing Salvatore to glance at him with a humorous smile.

“Was there not something in that contract you sent to the Inferno about not infringing on others’ copyrighted material?” Sir Samwell asked.

Barabus had no idea what the knight meant.

Salvatore grinned more broadly. “I fear I have no idea of what you speak, good knight; I can only speak as to my own personal story.”

Sir Samwell made what sounded to be a rumbling growl of irritation — a sound that Barabus normally associated with Modgriensofarthgonosefren warriors around alfar.

Sir Gaius spoke up. “So you are a fallen avatar?”

Salvatore bent his head in acknowledgement.

“That is quite interesting. There have been several theories that demons are actually fallen avatars,” Dante said.

“We prefer the term enlightened avatars, actually,” Salvatore replied.

Sir Samwell made that odd noise again.

Melissance laughed. “Shall we sit? I suspect we shall all have plenty of time to explore our various histories and tales in the near future.”

“Indeed, my lady,” Salvatore agreed, pulling back the largest chair for Melissance. “We are a very interesting party.” He glanced very specifically at Sirs Gaius and Gadius before his eyes came to rest on Sir Samwell.

Tierhallon: Late Sixth Period, Murgatory Time

“So, to summarize,” Tiernon said looking out from behind his desk at Beragamos. “Hilda, in pursuit of the abducted knight and the mana-stealing demon, has found herself in the middle of an impending conflict with the Unlife, who are currently the main obstacle between herself and her goal, and so wishes to participate in the conflict and eliminate that which is standing in her way?”

“Yes, Your Godship, that indeed sums it up,” Beragamos, sitting in one of the two chairs opposite the desk, replied.

“Hmm.” Tiernon pursed his lips in thought. “Well, I must admit, she has the team spirit. This is exactly the sort of attitude I look for and applaud.” He leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms upon his desk. “As you know from the adventures of the idiots in the Rod, we cannot go after Talarius, nor gain access to the mana-stealing demon, in the Abyss,” he said, Beragamos nodded.

Tiernon continued, “If we want to actually retrieve Talarius, and more importantly”—he stressed the last clause heavily—“get a good look at, perhaps even apprehend, this mana-stealing demon, our best bet is to do it on Nysegard. Actually, I suspect it is our only bet.”

Beragamos swallowed hard. “I am not quite there yet on the apprehension, Your Godship. I would like to size him and the situation up quite a bit more.”

Tiernon grinned and nodded. “We will not underestimate this demon again.” The god shook his head and thought for a few more moments. “Very well; Hilda may go, as well as Stevos, and if Inethya or Dashgar want to go too, I am fine with that.”

“Thank you, Your Godship,” Beragamos replied.

“I am not convinced Sentir will be happy with me overruling him,” Tiernon mused, and looked mischievously at Beragamos.

Beragamos chuckled at the joke. “You are his god, his savior and his world. He will get over it.”

“Yes.” Tiernon smiled before looking more serious. “One more thing,” he said, looking intently at Beragamos. “This is only between you and me; I would like you to sneak into Nysegard as an observer. Do not reveal yourself to the others or mortals. Do not join in battle. I do not want anyone to know you are there. But I would like you to observe our forces and how they conduct themselves, and should the opportunity present, after the battle, travel to the Isle of Doom and get me details on this demon.”

Beragamos blinked at this unexpected request, taken by surprise, but he quickly nodded. “As you request, Your Godship.”

Etterdam, Arcem Conclave: DOA + 14, Dawn

“You seem rather morose today,” Lilith commented to Sentir Fallon as the two of them and Aodh sat watching Etternon, the local star, rise above the horizon while sipping local ice wine. They had been discussing their next steps.

“Things are getting awkward on Nysegard,” Sentir Fallon replied sourly.

“Awkward?” Aodh asked. “There are many words for that wasteland; awkward is not typically one of them.”

Sentir Fallon snorted. “The Storm Lords, whom you may recall have been of considerable assistance to us, are making a very significant advance upon one of the largest resistance cells, a place called the Citadel of Light.”

Lilith groaned, shaking her head. “How overly melodramatic!”