Barlowe, Wayne - God's Demon

"Really. Your survival skills must be extraordinary."

"Perhaps, my lord," said Faraii with great humility. "By necessity. I explored, hunted Abyssals for provisions, and made many notes on the indigenous dwellers and their culture, Lord." Faraii seemed to Eligor at ease and yet respectful. He also seemed a little stiff, something that Eligor put down to his having been away from the cities for so long.

"Well then, you and Eligor, here, will have many things to discuss. He thinks of himself as something of an ethnographer and spends much of his free time compiling material on the creatures of the wilds, as well as what the souls can remember of their civilizations."

Faraii's expression did not change. He bowed his head slightly in acquiescence.

Sargatanas was silent for a long moment. "You haven't mentioned that you are a baron," he said unexpectedly. Valefar looked at him for a moment and back at the newcomer.

"I was a Seraph Minor in the court of Iuvart before the Fall, Lord. Forgive me; no guile was intended. I do not like to think of my prior life." He looked away for a moment, the pain evident upon his face.

"It hurts all of us who choose to remember, Faraii. Myself included," said Sargatanas after a moment. "The War ... the War had to be fought. We lost and we paid for it dearly." He looked at Valefar and Eligor and both nodded. "Well," Sargatanas said more brightly, "I think that you will be a fine addition to our court. With your knowledge and experience we will be able to more confidently traverse the outlying regions with little fear of running afoul. Welcome."

A glyph appeared from Sargatanas' chest, a duplicate of one that hovered near where his heart had been torn out. It floated toward Faraii's burning sigil, where it intertwined with it, becoming one. The pact of a new alliance had been sealed.

Sargatanas rose, patted Faraii on the shoulder briefly, and strode down the stairs. "Get him settled in, Valefar," he said over his shoulder. "It is time the Baron had someplace to call home."

As Sargatanas strode from the chamber, Faraii looked relieved, if not outwardly pleased. But when Valefar and Eligor approached him with outstretched hands he readily took them, clasping them in a grip that surprised both demons. Valefar said, "Welcome to Adamantinarx, Baron Faraii. Whether you chose this city by chance or not, this is the best of all cities in Hell. You will see."

Faraii smiled faintly. His eyes shone brightly.

Eligor studied the newcomer with interest, wondering what lay behind his laconic stoicism. This demon of the Wastes might well be worth further study.

Valefar, however, seemed more reserved in his interaction with Faraii, walking a pace behind him as they left the chamber, watching his peculiar movements closely and taking in every detail of this newest member of the court. Eligor realized that this was as it should be, that Valefar was dutifully performing one of the most important functions of his office—that of appraising those who might aspire to Sargatanas' inner circle. This exotic figure, clad in burning skins and moving in his odd, angular way, was, in fact, a baron, not some untitled itinerant, and he deserved a respectful but thorough evaluation.

The three demons exited the huge chamber, and at its main threshold guards handed Faraii his bundled traveling kit. This included a rolled protective hide, worn cooking utensils, and a strangely wrought blade that did not go unnoticed by either Eligor or Valefar. It was black and very long, with a grip ample enough to have been used with two hands. Unlike most weapons, it seemed to have been fashioned from the sharpened spine of an Abyssal and had teeth, small bells, and dried eyes dangling from short cords tied into its hilt.

"An interesting weapon, Faraii," Valefar said.

"Acquired in an interesting way, Lord Prime Minister," Faraii said, handing him the blade. "As part of a ritual of acceptance into one of the local Waste tribes I had to hunt and kill what they call a Great Gouger, and take its skull-spine for a weapon. They are regarded as the tribe's totem and are formidable creatures standing nearly thirty feet high." Faraii seemed very matter-of-fact.

"Did you use an Art Martial to kill it?" asked Eligor, who found this mysterious figure more fascinating by the moment.

"That would not have been acceptable," said Faraii. "The tribes are neither demon nor soul but, as you know, were here before us. They live an austere life out there, and rely on nothing but their cunning and traditional skills to combat the elements. As a sign of respect to their culture, I killed it with their simplest weapon—a heavy sling."

Valefar hefted the weapon for a moment, then handed it back to Faraii.

"If you like, Captain Eligor, at some future time I will show you some of the traditional fighting forms that the tribespeople taught me," Faraii said, shoving the sword back into his bundle.

"I would very much like that, Baron."