The Village

The old apothecary sat there next to Sana as Sister Agnes rested on her knees across from him, he watched intently as the nun began to heal Sana but he was worried. Sister Agnes’ healing light was faded and did not possess the same strength that it had held earlier in the day. With all the healing she had done for the groups over the length of the day the sister had used most of her power and energy. Slowly Sanas crushed chest began to reform and take a more normal shape, the wound on the side of her face closing gradually as the burns down the side of her body from earlier healed but it was a slow process making it painful to Sana. Sanas fingers flexed and clenched as agonizing hisses passed through clenched teeth. Wylsen took Sanas left hand and held it, trying to give her some comfort but he knew it wasn’t going to help. He did have a few potions left in his shop for healing but he restrained himself from retrieving them, this battle would be long and there would be many injuries; as long as Sister Agnes could continue to keep them alive he wanted to save them for the last possible moment.

The Anti-Paladin whipped his head around as he heard a woman speak and the crash of a window; following by a rather trembling voice trying to muster up courage. Pulling the reins on his mount he turned to face them, his sword still drawn. He smirked; if you could call it that for his face was so scarred the only thing one could see was that his jagged lips curled slightly to one side. Kicking his heels into the flanks of his hound from hell causing it to rush the two lone opponents that stood before him; rushing forward the Hell Hound opened it black jaws and a blast of fiery breath came out of his mouth towards Tobias. As it did so the Anti-Paladin, riding his mount came past Vaeri, his dark blade coming down hard and striking towards the elf-womans left arm. The hell hound turned quickly, as it stopped its charge and spun around to face them once again, its back now to the inn and it looking to charge right through them towards the two that were bent on getting Sana back on her feet.

What a day Lob had had. He had thought he would have enough energy to go back for the alpha after getting the wagon home. Sadly the first fight, the trip out, the fight with slavers and dogs, the breaking of tree limbs, and hunting down the rabbits on the way back... All of that left him well and truly bushed as he found his way up to the top of a thatched straw roof and he collapsed against the stone chimney for heat and shade.

Hours must have passed before he awoke to the sound of the alpha screaming. Crawling to the edge of the roof, he could feel the wrongness even without his ability to sense danger. He watched as others came out while the wolfrider ran them down and his dog gouted flame like a dragon. Club in hand, he took a silent run across the Inn roof and leapt down with the oiled bone in a two-handed overhead strike.

No funny stuff, this one was wrong and needed to be stopped now and fast. With all the strength of a fire giant and the hush of a hunter, he hopped and hoped to cave the chestplate inwards on the badknight with a single silent strike in surprise from the shop's shadow to hide his own. The dog would be next.

Fiona wasn't naturally paranoid, but tonight she had deemed it best to keep what armor she had on, at least until Sana returned safely. It had been an incredibly eventful day, and a dangerous one too, and Fiona was trying to stay prepared for any more slavers, if some still lived that hadn't been dealt with yet. Staying awake as long as her body would allow, she preoccupied herself mostly by making light conversation with other party members and villagers who stayed at the inn.

As it turned out, she was right to be ready for another fight, but wrong to be expecting more slavers. Sana's scream drew her attention outside, where she laid eyes on the dark creature riding something straight out of hell. Fiona's initial confusion and alarm settled on a few questions, like why this thing would be drawn here, and why it was after the child Sana had. Did she find that child at the slaver camp? Had they missed her? Was this thing involved in the sickness affecting the others?

It seemed too great a terror to be coincidence, but for now, Fiona's goal had to be dealing with that terror. They could find out where it came from afterwards. Quickly Fiona consumed the Bull's Strength potion she had acquired earlier, having removed it from her saddlebags upon leaving Liam in the stables. Drawing her sword, she stepped outside shortly after Tobias, noting the severely injured state of Sana, and Vaeri's arrival from above as well. "I've got your back," she said to Tobias, hoping to be of some reassurance. That he was out here at all astounded her a little. "We can do this."

With that, the combat began, and Fiona waited for a moment to strike. She chose to move forward when the beast had its back turned. She moved to strike at its back left leg, targeting the weakest-looking point and making a two handed slash of her blade, hoping her enhanced strength could severely damage it and cripple its movement.

The evil one went to charge once again on his hell hound towards Sana and through the rest of the group but the sudden slam to his Hell Hounds neck right in front of him caused the best to stumble as his head went down; the club that Lob wielded breaking through the skin from the force of the bash and causing a decent amount of blunt force trauma. The knight of darkness did his best to stay on his mount but as Fiona came in from behind and sliced with her blade he tumbled off the large monster to the ground; Fionas blade catching the tendon on the back side of left rear leg and cutting it clean through. The Hell Hound roared in pain as the wound oozed a dark fluid that looked similar to blood but seemed to have a much deeper hue to the gooey substance.

It growled deeply, baring its teeth as it turned its attention towards Fiona; the beats head whipping around as it moved on three legs, refusing to put the injured one on the ground at this time. It was injured but far from being out for the count. The Anti-Paladin grunted as he hit the ground but managed to tumble and come up on his feet, his blade still in his hand. Dirt and dust falling off his dark armor as his fingers flexed, gripping his blade tight in one hand as the other hand fanned out as if to say come get me. That smirk on his lips was still there, as if he was enjoying it and he held no care if his mount was already injured.

“First you, then the child,” he said in a low guttural voice towards the group as he waited for the next onslaught of attacks.

Hugh continued to search frantically from person to person, anyone with a similar hair color was a target for his hand to grab them and turn them to face him. He kept searching through the people, until his attention was grabbed by the human female, Fiona.

Her words made him more at ease as she explained, but he was perplexed. Personal reasons? He hadn't a clue, but his mind sought through many different possibilities before he shrugged it all off and decided on helping the people out of the little wagon.

He would offer his hand to the old and feeble; he could scoop up the children in his arms and set them on the ground, gently. He had no idea where to take them, but they were all evidently weaker than he, so Hugh kept up the process till the wagon was empty and the group of refugees headed off in different wayward directions.

Hugh seemed to stand proudly, and had a contented smile on his face at seeing the people free from slavery. He stood for a long time, looking around the town at the different happenings. The bodies had been cleaned off the streets, but not before Hugh could nab a few goodies. He himself was wearing a brand new set of chain mail, and had acquired many other strange trinkets.

He felt slightly thirsty from all of the fighting, so he took out this odd vial and held it to the sky, looking it over. "How bad can it be? My liver is amazing, after all." And so, he popped the cork, and downed the vial. Didn't taste like poison, but it would take enough poison for a horse or a bear to put Hugh down, so he wasn't exactly scared.

The liquid didn't seem particularly nourishing, but he didn't feel any adverse affects from it. "Alright, looks like everything is gonna be okay-" His attention was suddenly diverted towards the sound of hooves and then yelling from one particularly familiar voice.

Hugh turned and faced the direction of the sound and there he saw Sana, galloping on Rodger, with something cradled in her arms. The closer she got the less happy he was to see her, as something seemed to be coming up behind her. "Ahh fuck." He stepped back a ways, as both characters rushed through, Sana coming through first and charging into the Inn. It wasn't long before she was back again and facing down this monstrosity.

It was a towering hell hound bearing none other than an antipaladin. For a moment he wasn't sure whether or not it was a good thing he had left behind being a paladin long ago, but he shrugged that off, as things got far more ugly than had started out.

Hugh was on edge, and drew his falchion the moment he saw the antipaladin charge towards Sana. He felt a little overly confident, watching Sana take on the beast. The thoughts going through his mind were that the demon would be shot off his mount, but he was gravely wrong.

His jaw dropped, and so did his sword, as he watched Sana get thrown against a wall like a rag doll, dropping uselessly. He screamed out in agony, as he watched her fall.

He rushed to her side, skidding to a stop. He was at a loss for words, as the nun scrambled to save her. There was reference that she was still alive, but barely. Hugh, however, couldn't speak as his mental state seemed to degrade. To him, it looked as though she was dead, and he couldn't hear what anyone was saying, as his ears seemed to suddenly start ringing and his mind began to grow dark with despair.

There was a sword that was strapped to Sana's back, that Hugh hadn't taken note of, as he stared at her. She seemed lifeless, and so did Hugh's eyes at that moment. He felt like all of the life had been crushed out of him, and that now he was losing everything he had to hold onto. As a random unconscious movement, Hugh drew the sword from her back and turned away, diverting his attention towards the hell hound and it's master.

There it was; he had lost it all. He felt empty, as he walked towards the beast, this new large sword in hand. Lifting up the hilt to his face, he spoke several simple words, before holding it with both hands. "He that lives by the sword shall perish by the sword." He spoke these words as a curse upon himself, almost like it was his time to go. Maybe he was cursed; cursed to relive the same agony and anguish for an eternity. Like an affliction from some benevolent god.

Now, the antipaladin had been knocked off his mount and was standing, ready for a showdown with Hugh. Hugh didn't think they would be a good match, nary, Hugh was going to disembowel the dark knight and parade his entrails around the town. He felt focused and as though no pain could bother him at all.

Hugh marched up towards the man, quickly closing the distance, before shouting to draw his attention, "SURPRISE, MUTHA FUCKA!" With that, Hugh swung his sword at the midsection of the antipaladin, bearing it down on him with all of his force.

Vaeri stifled a giggle at Tobias' attempt at bravery. He was not a strong individual, but he got an A for effort. Coming out to face this foe in the shape he was in took real guts. This brief lapse in concentration cost her a second of reaction. Vaeri managed to barely step out of the way of the charging hellhound and received a deep, ragged gash in her left arm for the trouble. She took a second to check that her arm wasn't completely useless. There was no bone showing. It'd have to do. From there, Lob and Fiona entered, managing to injure the Hellhound and knock the antipaladin off. Just as well, it would make retrieving the first ingredient and smiting the unholy man all the easier.

She spotted Hugh charge in to attack with a sword, and decided to help a brother out. As he came from the front, she rushed in from the back. Vaeri lifted her axe well above, letting her hands slide to the very bottom of the handle, optimizing its strength and range for this attack, but here she was committed to the blow. It would be hard to recover. The plan was to split the anti-paladin's skull like a watermelon whil distracted by Hugh. Or be gutted by Hugh while he was distracted with the axe. She wasn't picky.

It's a good thing Hanzo is a light sleeper.

He'd trained himself with that habit for whenever he found it necessary to sleep while on the road or in some uninhabited area. There was no telling when whatever shadows or rogues of the night would come forth and attempt to take their picking on one's sleeping form. Now, it was more than enough to be alerted by the blood-curdling scream of Sana, and a subsequent cry or roar from some other sinful-sounding entity. It was what looked like an evil or demonic paladin, riding what could only be a hellhound.

He demanded a child, some specific one that was here, and did not hesitate to attack when the others tried to assault it. Sana got herself badly injured, and Hanzo himself weighed the options of how well he could fare against this beast. But then again, who would this monk be if he were to refuse to aid?

Gathering his will for the incoming fight, Hanzo opened the inn's window wide, backed up, and performed a running headfirst leap out of the second story. Throwing his body in a forward twist, the monk righted himself to fly at the antipaladin with an outstretched kick, hoping the force could knock the corrupt man to the ground.

A familiar, reassuring voice came from somewhere far, away. "I've got your back. We can do this."

The rogue nodded, took a deep breath, and was nearly set on fire. The hell-hound's mouth opened very slowly, and the rogue almost instinctively rolled away mere seconds before he'd have been immolated.

He looked back up and saw that Hugh, Fiona, the orc-thing and Vaeri had engaged the monster. It had even been dismounted due to a crushing blow from the orc-thing, and now the hell-hound was menacing... Fiona. Fuck, this thing was making a point of threatening things the rogue actually gave a shit about.

Before he could talk himself out of it, the rogue sprinted forward, yelling and waving his knives. Running up from behind, he leapt up at the beast, attempting to plunge both daggers into its back.

The Anti-Paladin stared down Hugh as he watched the man leave the side of the woman that he had already dispatched in his mind, that smirk widening to a large and cruel smile, brown teeth showing from behind the mattered lips. He brought his sword out to strike but because his focus was on Hugh he did not notice the elf woman coming up behind him. Vaeri was able to bring her axe down and take a good gash out of his left shoulder causing the swing he was trying to take at Hugh to block to fail. Hugh swung the sword towards the evil one and it sliced across his chest from right shoulder to left hip but due to his armor it did not take him out of the fight yet but it was enough to break through the mans armor in some of the weaker places and pierce his skin. If that wasn’t enough he suddenly dropped to one knee as he was struck from above by an unknown assailant. Hanzo managed to take advantage of the situation and strike true but it was only enough to knock the Anti-Paladin down on one knee, though his scalp had a nice gash in it from the force.

Even with all three of heroes landing their blows it wasn’t enough to stop the man. He was not able to return any of the attacks but rolled to the side and came back up on one knee facing the three before him, placing himself between them and Sana. The three had been lucky to hit the Anti-Paladin and not each other. Tobias, however was not as lucky and then again was lucky in the same breath. As he came down to attack the Hell Hound turned his attention to him and leapt out the way, a move that would send Tobias to the ground instead of into the monsters back. The beast swung his claw towards Tobias but had jumped too far and just missed; his claws coming dangerously close to the thief.

Sister Agnes concentrated on healing Sana instead of the fight but Wylsen watched with worry between both scenes. What the man had just been hit with he should have been at least knocked out cold but no, he was crouched there and ready to attack once again. Sana suddenly gasped for air and sat up straight, Wylsens head turning quickly to look at her and sighed in relief. Sana coughed slightly and held her chest. She still hurt but at least she was conscience now and sitting up on her own. Sister Agnes falling back slightly to rest against the post, feeling very drained from the amount of healing that Sana had required.

Sana looked at the group and slowly pushed herself to her feet, rocking unsteady due to still feeling weak as she began to look around for her bow. Wylsen grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her but she tried to push him away, yet unable to do so. Wylsen finally took a moment to look at her closely and tilted his head to the side, she hid it well but as she told him to, “let me go,” her gypsy accent flowed through. The old mans hands glowed for a moment as he did something he had not done in decades. Looking at her he found a truth she had buried deep that she may not even been aware of. Sana looked at him oddly as he smiled at her; the glow fading away.

“You know what to do, now do it Gypsy,” he said quickly.

“Then let me get my bow!” she snapped but the apothecary held his ground. “What? Wait.. you don’t mean…”

“Yes I do, now do it before things get worse,” he whispered.

“It won’t work,” she said trying to push away from him but again physically she was too weak.

“Only if you don’t let it,” he said before finally releasing her. Sana tilted slightly but managed to grab ahold of the post and keep herself on her feet. Taking a deep breath she looked at the old man worried who only replied with a smile and a motion with his hand for her to do whatever it was he was speaking about; the nun looking on had no idea, she was confused as Sana had been at the beginning on the conversation. Sana nodded slowly and turned to face the group that was fighting to keep the child she had brought into the village safe. Seeing Hugh there she knew she had to at least try, she didn’t have the strength to pull back a bow string; even if she did she couldn’t risk not hitting her mark and hitting one of them.

Fiona's sword came away from the hell hound spattered with a very dark liquid, the relatively poor nighttime lighting inefficient to show any color. Far all she knew, this creature bled entirely black blood. That she made it bleed at all was encouraging; the others who had arrived to fight were preoccupied with the anti-paladin, leaving it up to her and Tobias to deal with the mount.

As the beast turned to stare and growl at her, Fiona paused, widening her stance slightly, preparing to dodge away when it attacked, but Tobias was driven to strike first, trying to flank it while its attention was elsewhere. It proved both quick and aware of its surroundings by getting away from him, and Fiona's eyes widened when it nearly landed a slash on his prone form in return.

Keeping her sword in both hands, she flipped it over backwards and rushed forward towards the hound's side. "Get away from him!" she shouted, just before she raised her arms and drove her sword down, trying to pierce through the hound above the right shoulder, hoping to strike something vital if she could connect.

The badman had a bigsword, time to take it away. Taking a side swing stance, he moved around to the darkone's side to flanks as the wolves do. He wasn't looking to strike down the man, but next time he wound up for a swing or swung wide then the dragons bone was going to take that sword away. And the hand with it if he could.

The primal mind fought against itself, this man exuded a fear like a dragon and the fire breathing dog did not help. Part of him wanted to run, the part that wanted to eat tomorrow, to live tomorrow. That part knew this was no hunter of people, this one was something wrong with nature itself. Wrong things need to be set right.

He wanted to avoid anymore fighting he really did but he couldn't stand seeing his companions fighting a battle alone so he called upon his locust but didn't direct them at the anti-paladin. No he had them cover him so he could chant divine light and blind the hell-hound.

"I Attempt to Remember Everyone I Have Ever Encountered But You Deserve No Such Thing" he said as he stepped towards the battle his voice muffled and distorted By the locust

Dreamless sleep is the best kind of sleep; you're mind is clear and you're not doing anything but resting. Some argue that dreaming is the best kind, Melvus would disagree. He would, however, agree that interrupted sleep is the worst kind of sleep... That was what his sleep was, dreamless, yes, but it was interrupted... Melvus rather enjoyed his sleep. Why, then, was it constantly being interrupted. It wasn't even anything particularly loud which had woken him, it was just the sound of distant commotion and some yelling from outside.

It would appear that I slept for a few hours... I'll see what is transpiring outside... Melvus got up from his bed, got himself dressed and made his way to the window of his second story room. As he looked out he noticed the woman... Sana? Yeah... She slammed against the wall of the inn, blood splattering from her. He also took note of the nun running to her and a few of his companions outside. They were fighting something. I suppose I should help... I've had enough sleep...

After retrieving his staff and sword he made his way outside, remembering that he didn't have his cloak. My potion was in there... Oh well, I shouldn't need it for this. There was very little light outside, only some ambient torch-light. Even in the low light, he could see the hellhound, mainly because it seemed to be on fire, probably because it was - or rather its oral region was... At any rate, the beast was accompanying a man. He wore black armor and seemed to radiate evil. That's that I suppose.

The monk, the knight, and the elf attacked at once, they landed but didn't seem to do much damage as the black knight rolled, avoiding the blunt if their attacks.

Melvus could feel his own power, it was rather low. He drew his sword and disappeared. I'll use my weaker spells for now... and my sword, I'd rather not pass out here. "My master once told me... I am the calm center of the storm, that I must remain fearless, patient and calm as my opponent rages around me." Melvus' cut into the fight as he materialized in front of the heroes, between them and the dark knight. "He also told me to strike through my opponent!" With that a glowing arm appeared behind Melvus, slamming against the ground, thrusting the wizard toward his opponent, sword at the ready.

A blood boiling scream and the command to arm’s had held a significant spark in the soul of the golden eye’d stranger even all the way at the stables, where he lifted his head to listen to what would happen next.

After mere moments, the stranger knew what he had to do. He slapped his palm against the rump of an unusually large snow white destrier that stood by him in the oak pillars of the stables. Leather bags caught his eye, as well as a long glinting object that laid all along the wall at a great length. A familiar glimmer shone in the golden eyes of the man as his finger tightened around the bags.

Minutes passed and no other sound filled the ears of the stranger than those of the pounding hooves of his white destrier and the protests of rushing wind. His eyes were slits behind a thick and strange helmet and one hand held the reigns of the bit while the other couched a long lance. A long red cape fluttered behind him as he charged on top of the great white horse, giving him the view of a hero.

Great armor covered his figure, quickly tightened with the skill of an old soldier, and yet the armor reflected the shining plates of the youth. The man’s muscles strained as his short lived charge came into fruition.

The bodies of his comrades by chance blurred in his vision as his eyes refocused passed the roaring winds of the rush and onto a dark and evil knight. He tilted and aimed his lance, and the great weapon began to glow a white heat as he whispered words of holiness, the words of smite evil. He kicked his horse for one final rush of power and the great beast launched off it’s hinds as the mounted warrior completed his tilt and thrusted his lance forward to end the charge and attempt to skewer the evil before him.

Sana took a deep breath, watching the fight as the old apothecary stepped up next to her to steady her if needed. Sana doubted this would work, as far as she knew she had never been able to cast during her life even though she had been taught the songs growing up and had to perfect them. Wylsen nudged her slightly and she could only nod as she began to part her lips. Her voice started out as nothing more than a whisper as the lyrics came forth. “She sits in her corner singing herself to sleep, wrapped in all of the promises that no one seems to keep. She no longer cries to herself, no tears left to wash away. Just diaries of empty pages, feelings gone astray but she will sing,” she whispered in a soft singsong voice but nothing happened and she felt like an idiot standing there singing while they fought.

Wylsen stepped into her line of sight and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You have to believe it, do it for them,” he said motioning with his head towards the group that was desperately fighting but unable to get the upper hand.

Sana drew a breath and lifted her head more, trying to believe. “Till everything burns, while everyone screams. Burning their lies, burning my dreams. All of this hate and all of this pain burning all down as my anger reigns, till everything burns,” her voice sang, a bit stronger now and Wylsen smiled as she gave off the faintest of crimson hues from her skin.

“Come on, keep it going,” he urged her as he motioned with his hands, fanning them slightly towards himself.

“Walking through life unnoticed; knowing that no one cares. Too consumed with their masquerade, no one sees me there but I will sing,” Sana sang, her voice growing strong with each note that left her lips, her eyes closing slowly. Her sultry voice growing in strength as each word passed through her lips. The crimson hue that had been so faint was growing in intensity, her hair and clothing moving slightly as a wind seemed to pick up around her; Sana feeling the change continued hoping that it was working.

“Till everything burns while everything screams. Burning their lies, burning my dreams. All of this hate and all of this pain; burning it all down as my anger reigns,” she sang with force as her hands and body began to move, the crimson shaded light now bright and swirling like a blood drenched fog caught in the winds.

“Till everything burns,” she sang as her voice carried to the ears of each of those out there and her foot slammed into the ground below her; eyes slamming open, consumed with the shade that whipped about her. Her hands thrusting out as she continued, the light seeming to funnel through them and shooting out to each member that she considered an ally in this fight against the Anti-Paladin. “While everyone screams; burning their lies, burning my dreams. All of this hate and all of this pain burning all down as my angers, till everything burns!” she sung, holding out the last word as long as she could as the crimson light created an aura around each of them. They would feel courage building within them, fatigue fading away as it did, feeling themselves heal from wounds not yet tended to.

Sanas voice began to soften as she continued past the last held note, the hue fading from around her friends and the winds relenting around her form. “Watching it all fade away,” she managed to whisper as she drew her song to a close. The effect would continue for her party for some time but she was spent from having cast it. It was her first true cast and she was already weak. As her hands began to lower she began to wobble on her feet, Wylsen rushing to come up behind her and catch her as she began to fall. Gently lowering her to a seated position and resting her next to Sister Agnes.

“You did good Gypsy,” was all Wylsen said while he rested her back against the post. Sana nodded slightly as her head tilted back and she watched, hoping what she did would help the group over all. Sana did not have to wait long to see the results of her song. Fiona was in mid swing towards the Hell Hound, coming in from the side with her sword and aiming to hit something vital. She did, the sword pierced through the beasts flesh and drove directly into its heart and severing its spinal cord at the same time. It yelped but it was too late, the monster dropped to the ground with a thunderous thud, falling dead where it lay.

The Anti-Paladin saw this and narrowed his eyes, looking for the closest person to take it out on and his eyes fell on Hanzo. Moving to swing and take the mans head off he would have succeeded if it were not for Lob coming up and being ready for the swing. As the dark one swung so did Lob, who had been waiting for the attack and brought down his club hard against the mans arm right at the elbow. The sound of bone cracking echoing through the air as he dropped his sword in the process and stumbled back slightly; grabbing his now unusable arm with his good one. Catching himself before he was able to fall he seemed to growl demonically.

The sound of hooves beating grabbed the Anti-Paladins attention, turning to face it he was left no time to get out of the way as the lance hit him full force in the right side of his body on his chest near his should and lifted him off the ground. The force dented his armor and cracked his collarbone, sending him flying through the air and crashing into the ground, sprawled out just as he had done to Sana. Gasping for air he fought to recover but only managed to sit up before anything else happened.

Vaeri laughed as the anti-paladin's strike was intercepted by Lob. So far in this fight he had had great timing, first dismounting the fiend and now potentially breaking his arm. And now a newcomer joined the battle a mysterious armored warrior on a brilliant white horse. His blow knocked the unholy warrior into a vulnerable position and she could feel the divine magic starting to fade, so she took a hint from Sana's magical music.

"Nobody approach the unholy one! Burn to ashes! Flame Strike!" Vaeri gestured towards the antipaladin, a beam of light signalling where the holy flames would strike him.

Tobias's attack was brave, ambitious, and mighty, three things that all present would agree were totally unlike him. As such, it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise when it completely failed.

The rogue crashed to the ground, face in the dirt. He was just beginning to scramble to his feet when he looked up and saw the Hell-Hound's slavering visage fixated on him. Well, at least he'd gotten its attention away from Fiona. Hell-Hound bait - maybe they'd put that on his tombstone, if anyone bothered to give him one.

The claws sang forward, eager to usher the rogue off this mortal coil. Tobias closed his eyes and waited for a death that never came. When he opened them again, there was a song filling his ears, haunting and beautiful. Everything burns.

"Get away from him!" Fiona cried as she cut into the monster, her blade finally putting an end to its unnatural life. For a moment, though she was spattered with dirt and blood and gritting her teeth with the effort, she seemed to be the most beautiful woman the rogue had ever seen.

More had entered the fight - the whole gang, it seemed. They were currently dog-piling the rider of the Hell-Hound, even managing to break its arm and knock it prone. Vaeri seemed set to finish the job, appearing to conjure some spell or another over the knight, a beam of light marking it for destruction.

But then, maybe that wouldn't be enough - it had survived plenty so far. Pulling himself upright, Tobias sent a knife sailing towards the knigt, shouting as he did so: "I've got your child right here, fucking prick!"

---

Drizzak had been trying not to think too hard since speaking with Sister Agnes. Her words made his brain do backflips. Wanting to be a good goblin, made him a good goblin? He had to admit he was a bad goblin to be a good one? If he failed to be a good goblin, he would still be good because he tried? The concepts of good and evil, right and wrong, occupied the edges of his mind as he ate his evening meal of meat and bread.

Not great for dinner conversation, so he remained quiet until the time for rest came. He slept near the window that night, looking up at the stars. The cool, soft breeze helped him to lay his wandering thoughts to rest, and soothed his aching wounds. The dog mauling on his shoulder throbbed softly, but the pain was mostly in his head. The stab wound at his other shoulder was slightly more painful. He could feel it healed for the most part, but the feeling of being pierced never went away in truth.

His face was still slightly cut up, and his body was generally bruised all over, but he managed to find some semblance of restful sleep beneath the watching stars. That was until the scream for help went up. Drizzak was slower to move, body stiff and sore, but he moved all the same as he tried to don his weaponry and armor. Whip, blade, pelts and leather. No cloak this time. He liked his cloak too much.

He rushed outside behind all the others and sized up the enemy. A huge, imposing knight and his terribly frightening looking... dog? Was that even a dog? Or a dog-shaped demon? Drizzak pondered as he circled the fight. Now was not the time for thought. His friends were being attacked, and hurt! How could he just stand there as this happened? Now was the time for action and bravery!

Now was the time to be a good goblin, in the way he knew best.

With a bark, he dashed into the frey, feeling the song from Sana empowering his stride and making him feel lighter than ever before. Stronger than ever before. He intended to strike after the divine fire from Vaeri and the knife from Tobias. His whip was drawn, and ready to slice through the air as he flung it toward the Antipaladin's neck. Behind his teeth glowed a golden light, a flame powered by rage. If the whip grappled successfully, he would pull him down and unleash an inferno of flame upon his head in a roar of anger.

And The Battle Draws To A Close

The Anti-Paladin sat there, gripping his arm from the break and the pain of Lobs strike, trying to get to his feet. His eyes widened as he heard the words Flame Strike echo through the air right before he was engulfed in the holy driven flames. He tried to move out of the way but it was all for naught. The flames covered his form and even though the flame themselves caused no burns the holy side of the attack charred his flesh and burned through the armor as if he had none on at all. He was given no chance to recover from the attack as he felt a dagger find the soft spot in the breach of his chest plate that Tobias had sent flying towards him, the break was caused by Hughs strike early in the fight and it provided enough space to wedge through and puncture his lung.

He sat there, burning and bleeding out, hanging on to life by a thread. That thread was cut with the snap of a whip that wrapped around his throat and snapped his neck. The evil being sat there for a moment as the flames faded away and he toppled over to the side lifeless. A stunned look plastered on his hideous face; the whip still around his neck. With that the fight was over and Wylsen jumped up, in a rather spry gesture for a man of his advanced years, thrusting his fist in the air and screaming out.

“Yes!” he hollered before he clapped several times and looked at the group over all with a grateful expression on his face; smiling brightly. Sister Agnes took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh of relief. The village could now have peace, something they had not had in sometime. Tilting her head slightly she looked over to Sana and rested her hand on the archers shoulder. Sana just sat there, still trying to catch her breath and regain her strength from the casting of the song.

“Are you alight young lady?” the sister asked concerned. Sana just nodded, her eyes feeling heavy but she forced herself to stay awake. “What child was he screaming about?” the nun was finally able to ask now that the fight was over. A small smile came to Sanas lips as from the inn emerged the little one, peeking her head out from the door way. Sana lifted her arms up slowly, them shaking somewhat from the strain. The little girl smiled brightly and rushed from the inn, across the street and over to Sana. Crawling into Sanas lap and clinging to her as Sana wrapped her arms around the little girl.

“This one,” Sana said in a tired voice. The little girl looked at the Sister as she clung to Sana and rested her head under Sanas chin.

“Where did you find her?” Wylsen asked as he knelt down next to them.

“Hidden in a hole in the ground,” Sana said in a quiet voice; she rested her head back on the post she was leaning against as she sat there holding the little one.

“Do you know why he had her?” Sister Agnes asked as she watched the little one and then looked over towards the corpse of the Anti-Paladin.

“No idea, ask him,” Sana said with a smirk on her lips as she sat there and then yawned slightly.

“You and the rest of the group need a good nights sleep,” Wylsen said as he righted himself and stood up.

“Need to get,” Sana began before she realized that she did not even know the childs name yet. Looking down at the child she perked a brow. “What’s your name?”

“Ariana,” the little girl said as she looked up at Sana. Sana nodded and smiled at her, running her fingers through her hair.

“Hello Ariana, I’m Sana,” she said in a kind voice. “I need to get Ariana cleaned up and fed first,” Sana said as she sat there. The Sister laughed slightly as she moved and rested on her knees.

“You can’t even stand up right now, I’ll take care of her, it’s what I do,” the sister said gently and held her hands out to the child. The child shook her head and clung tighter to Sana.

“No!” Ariana said defiantly. Sana laughed at the kids tenacity.

“I have her, just find her a place to sleep. I’ll move in a minute, just need to catch my breath,” Sana said as she pushed the nuns hands away before shifting the child in her lap and holding her close. Sister Agnes smiled and shrugged as she stood up, Wylsen helping the old nun to her feet.

“Looks like the village needs another clean up and someone needs to get the claw off the Hell Hound,” Sister Agnes said to Wylsen.

“Right and if they get the blood for me I can make some potions for them by morning,” he said before turning to go into his shop to retrieve some bottles to hold things in.

“I’ll go find the child a place to sleep,” Sister Agnes said as she walked across the street and into the inn; leaving the group to do what was needed to finish. The Sister smiled towards Drizzak as she passed him and gave him a nod of approval before she continued on her way. The bodies would need to be burned after the claw and blood was harvested from the Hell Hound. The Sister doubted there was much left they could use from the Anti-Paladin but there may have been a few items.

Vaeri plated the base of her axe onto the ground and took a few seconds to catch her breath. She had hoped that the holy flames would be enough to off the unholy warrior, but it being the catalyst to his defeat was acceptable. She placed her right hand over the gash in her left arm and made a silent prayer as golden light glowed from her palm. To her surprise, there was no wound to heal. When did that get fixed? Vaeri vaguely remembered her arm feeling weird when Sana began singing, that was probably when the wound was mended. She looked around saw that the only ones injured now were the two dead unholy ones. Justice prevails. Vaeri walked over to the antipaladin's corpse and spat on it before turning to the body of the hell hound.

"I will extract the claws from the hound. I'll be right back." Vaeri walked back to her room, her bag sitting open on the floor. She shoved her weapons back into the magical pack and pulled out her carving knife. The cloak was retrieved from the floor and shaken a few times to remove any dust or dirt that had accumulated on it before she put it on. She decided to keep her face revealed, however. It wasn't cold, the skies were clear and everyone outside had already seen her face. The elf returned to the battlefield twirling the blade in between her fingertips. She was a skilled, practiced hunter. She'd been hunting since she was 25. Granted back in those days she was firing a toy bow at the local squirrels the sly beasties always managed to avoid the arrows no matter how well she aimed. It still counted. Something as simply as removing a few claws should be child's play. Still, Vaeri couldn't completely shake the thought that asked "What if you ruin it now?"

It may have been doubt, it may have been unfamiliarity with skinning canines, but Vaeri actually did screw up her first few tries, causing first two claws to snap instead of coming out cleanly. By the four claw, she had found her stride and extracted 6 of the beast's claws before feeling satisfied. Maybe they only needed one claw, but it was better to have too much than too little.