Ioannes noticed that the Demon's body was being more easily destroyed than usual, even with the magic that now coated him and his sword, while the Demon's own blade was beginning to glow. It didn't take an above average intelligence to realize that this was a ruse; the Demon must be preparing some sort of spell!

The young man had limited experience with Magic, mostly coming from those Mamlukes who can be trusted to train in the arcane arts; which were few. Nevertheless, glowing swords were not a good omen. And so, Ioannes moved to cut off the hand that held said glowing sword, slashing upwards, trying to disrupt whatever spell Zargon was casting.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the guards around The Scholar being attacked by yet another demon; hopefully, Ioanathan would be up to the task of guiding the defense...

@The Harbinger of Ferocity, @Jon Y, @The Fated Fallen, @IcePezz, @ArenaSnow.

She was losing energy quickly, this was taking more out of her than she had expected. Not having cast for so long, she had become a sorts out of shape. There were too many of them, and too many obstacles. But this was Zargon. And if they somehow had the chance to destroy him now, their realm just may have a fighting chance.

"You have to take him out now! I can't hold these wards for much longer", her form faltered slightly, but her incantations remained firm.

Just then, something. .. someone had started attacking the guards surrounding her. Her concentration wasn't fully lost, but something had to happen. She knew she was the target of this attack. Yet, in her weakened state, there wasn't very much she could do.

There were several spikes of ice shooting their way that unfortunately started causing the guards to scatter.

She knew very well what it was on the other side of that attack, she felt him as he rounded the corner. For she was made of something special, and she intended on surviving this round.

The demon had broke through, and created a gap within her defense. She had no choice. Her lips moved quickly, and with a short breath the incantation escaped, the protection spell started to fade. Her hands rushed out in front of her, palms facing the demon, wrists joined as she let the energy of her magic shoot from her very core.

One after the other, balls of light exploded from her, shooting towards the demon that had rounded the corner.

She knew there would be casualties, but she wasn't ready to give up just yet.

@The Harbinger of Ferocity, @Jon Y, @The Fated Fallen, @Letter Bee @ArenaSnow

Ionathan turned around just in time for an ice spike to impale itself into his shield, immediately he crouched behind his shield only to realize that there were no more incoming projectiles. He looked around at the other guardsmen. All had either dived for cover or were writhing on the floor in agony with ice spikes protruding out of arms, legs and chests. Just then, dazzling light made Ionathan turn his head away, the scholar had responded to the demon's attack but was left vulnerable.

Checking the guardsmen around him he decided to act alone, he could not ask any more from his men. After the scholar stopped her attacks Ionathan placed himself between her and the demon which was moving closer at every moment.

To attract the demon's attention he threw his shield aside, judged the distance between him and the demon and threw his spear. The spear missed the demon which made no attempt to dodge the spear as it went flying past. Ionathan knew that it was unlikely to survive a fight with a demon one on one but his duty was to protect the scholar and he would do this till his last breath.

Drawing his longsword which had his family's words engraved on the cross guard, "Duty Above All". Ionathan pointed his sword at the demon and with a deep breath said "Come demon, show me what passes for fury amongst your misbegotten kind". Hopefully the demon would focus on him with this open challenge. Advancing a few feet forward Ionathan braced for the demon's onslaught.

@The Harbinger of Ferocity, @Letter Bee, @The Fated Fallen, @IcePezz, @ArenaSnow

Jeltheor was able to keep an eye on the group in town through a magic orb he had picked up on his travels. His mood certainly perked up as he watched the Lord Marshall's execution. A mood that was dampened by the battle which proceeded.

"Pitiful little mortals", he mutterred, regarding the band of warriors attacking Zargon.

It seemed though, he hadn't noticed Genevieve, or the other demon who had joined in on the fighting. And if he had, they were of no concern to him as his attention was solely on Zargon and his escape. He wasn't done with him yet, and it was becoming quite clear that if Zargon couldn't find a way out, it would be the end for him.

With a single wave of his hand, shadows begun to creep up around the group.

"He did manage to secure the death of their pathetic leader, I can, at the very least, throw him a bone. Just as long as he knows it's from me." He muttered, disgust lining his tone.

The shadows slink ed and slithered through the battlefield. Whether noticed or not, they were an unstoppable force, passing through whatever was in their was just as easily as the air that settled around them.

One shadow loomed over the lioness before pouncing on her, just as she had done to the wounded demon. It's intention was to devour her whole, shredding any physical manifestation out of existence.

Another shadow stretched it's shape into a humanoid form. It presented itself to Ioannes, just asking for a fight.

The last shadow stood off to the side, but as close to Zargon as it could get. It stood with open arms as if ready to be consumed by the demon, offering whatever aid it could.

Jeltheor had no true idea what the outcome of his actions would be, but he supposed it could work. How does one defeat a shadow anyhow?

@The Harbinger of Ferocity, @Letter Bee, @The Fated Fallen, @ArenaSnow



As the group lingered in the cave, strange things began to happen. Shadows cast on the cold stone walls around them began to move. It was a slight, subtle movement, barely noticeable to anyone that wasn't paying attention. They seemed to linger more near Robert, as if watching over him, or perhaps observing his movements. He would have felt that same eerie presence about, the eyes he felt watching him before he left the town.

Soft whispers of chitter chatter echoed through the various tunnels and caverns, as if the shadows were communicating with one another.

To top it all off, rumbling of rocks and gold and jewels could be heard. There was a disturbance somewhere in the large cave, but where exactly could not be specified.

The tunnels of the cave were like a labyrinth, it was too easy to get lost. They all looked the same, and all lined with treasure. Some of the jewels were as big as a person's head. Even just a handful would make someone the richest being alive- if they could manage to get out alive that is.

The halfling had successfully identified the artifact amongst the sea of jewels. Her attempt at seeing into the scholars mind paid off, otherwise it may not have been as easy. The tricky part now was to actually acquire it.

Despite all that had been against them, despite all that could go wrong, and all that very well may still happen, it was right there within their reach.

The chitter chatter from the shadows grew lounder, edging the group on.

@Belwicket @boomlover @Lucius Cypher @RokkuHoshi @KazeXDZ @Dragoknighte

(following content applies in two sections to the city group, and the last section to the "dragon quest" group, running low on time so proper mentions may come later)

Zargon had almost completed the energy transfer when he felt other entities of demon power arise from all directions. What is this? He was expecting no reinforcements and had left no command along those lines-

Jeltheor. It must have been. Zargon's alliance had obviously paid off, and as it was, he would be able to execute the last portion of his maneuver with much less effort.

With most of his energies contained in the sword, and his physical form currently deserted, damaged and disconnected when his sword hand was cut by a newcomer to the close quarters fight, he would be able to either make an escape or engage using the concentration he had made. He opted the former.

The sword righted itself as it fell to the ground, embedding into cracks in the road. It seemed to absorb the unused shadow being, drawing its energies in through the hilt. It was still for a few seconds.

A bright flash erupted in the ground where the sword was stuck, knocking back all combatants. When the flash died down, only a hole in the stones would remain.

---

Artholath bent his knees to where he almost touched the ground and stepped sideways to just barely miss the retaliation volley. This shouldn't be happening! He knew his prey wouldn't be weak, but he didn't expect the prey to fire balls of energy back.

He saw Ionathan come up to him and pull out a longsword, taunting him to show the what passed for fury in demonkind. Not my target. Engaging the one guard who had not only survived the onslaught, but had actually come up to engage him, would take too long and allow other enemies present to engage as well. He saw shadow beings begin to form ahead of him, engaging combatants that were out of sight to Artholath, but ones that he knew had been fighting Zargon. He took advantage of the following flash to charge into Ionathan's side, attempting to knock him down and sprint towards Genevieve and complete his job quickly and effectively.

---

"Zargon is still on the field, Artholath is missing... I need you to-"

"I am present."

Grhesus dropped the bowl of swirling energies he used to communicate with one of his agents and twirled around, preparing his limbs for attack. In front of him, embedded between the dark red cracks of the castle floor, was Zargon's sword.

Shadows rose from the hilt, slowly forming into a humanoid figure behind the sword. A dark, shadowy hand pulled the sword from the floor with no effort and tucked the sword into the folds of dark energies.

"The enemy is stronger than expected and has resources that I had not anticipated to come into play. I want you to bind an Abyssal and prepare the forces for retaliation."

Grhesus could only stare at Zargon.

"Abyssal? You realize we can't control those things any more than you can control an archangel?"

"Do it, Grhesus. I will gather my energies from the storage places; I will show my demon bretheren I am not to be undone, and I will advance things to the next level.

This is war. War requires risks. I will risk an abyssal.

Also, prepare an extra division of Blood Knights. I wish to cement our relations with Jeltheor."

Zargon began to fade out of the room, seeping into faint cracks into the walls.

Grhesus sighed and looked at the ceiling, wondering why he ever joined Zargon, and knowing full well why at the same time.

---

When the cave's entrance was finally clear of the heros, all was silent.

A hand came over one of the nearby rock formations, pulling up an armored corpse. A zombie, at first glance.

At second glance, the zombie, while not walking perfectly, held itself up quite well and pulled a short sword from a still intact sheathe.

From other nearby formations, other limbs appeared, bringing up other shambling bodies. They moved quickly, settling in position in front of the cave, assuming positions outside the cave, some disappearing behind closer rocks, a few disappearing below random ledges outside the cave. Any who looked out would see nothing.

Above the cave, a shimmering form watched the proceedings. The form was a demon, and the 'zombies' were his elite warriors. It watched with an almost fatherly pride as they assumed their positions as planned. If their skill would not suffice, the total crew of 20 would make up for it.

The demon settled into the rocks, vanishing between cracks, and waited along with its minions.

When its targets came out, it would be ready.

As the demon left the place, Ioannes was confronted by a shadowy being that assumed the form of a Black Knight, one which, in other circumstances, would have been an intimidating enemy. But Ioannes was one of the best soldiers - not warriors, soldiers - in the world, and if Zargon couldn't intimidate him, this puny Shadow didn't stand a chance. Heck, he already had a way to defeat the enemy, a way that depended on the nature of shadows...

Walking backwards as if in fear, luring the Shadow where the sun shone brightest, Ioannes, reacting quickly, angled his sword so that it would reflect the most light, besetting the enemy with as much brightness as possible. If what he knew was right, then the Shadow Creature would be destroyed by the flash, or at least be heavily damaged. If not, well, he would just try and cut the enemy down.

Once he was free of any engagement, Ioannes would observe the situation; the group was still fighting; even though Zargon had vanished, there was still another demon, one besetting the Scholar, who turned out to be a Mage. And said demon was besetting the final guard, pressing on against him and trying to knock him back. Without waiting to see if the knockback maneuver worked, Ioannes drew his crossbow and made to aim at Artolath - not that he knew what the Demon's name was - before having his shoulder tapped by a mysterious figure, a tall, but hunched, person wearing a beggar's hood and cloak.

Turning around in sudden alarm, the Mamluk found himself staring at an old woman's golden eyes and greying red hair, recognizing them as that of Sabira, one of the Girayid network on the island. Trying to hide his disdain of the child-snatcher, Ioannes spoke:

"What are you doing here? Can't you see there's a battle afoot?" Ioannes could not wait to help Ionathan; he rather liked the guardsman. This merely caused Sabira to scowl, and whisper:

"That may be, but I've received new orders from the Homeland. Waldenshore, and the rest of Silver Lily Isle, is to be made friendly to us; whether as an ally, vassal, or annexed."

"Yes, yes yes," Ioannes whispered back, "as if the latter two options won't alienate other nations from us more than we've already done. Although the first and third do mean that the practice of kidnapping orphans from the island would at least be halted. And, yes, yes, I know they're going to have a better life in Giray than in this war-torn island; it's still a hard blow to their minds."

"Are you going to listen to me, or are you going to kill my patience with your political tracts?" Sabira then continued on. "We've been collecting intelligence on various influential figures in Waldenshore, figures we might need to concilate, sideline, or get rid of. You're going to need to hear this; in fact, it's orders that you listen to me."

"First up, there are seven advisors, but only three of them matter; Fredrick, the Merchant, Allura, the Priestess, and Cortana, the late Lord-Marshal's mother and wife of the former Lord-Marshal. Fredrick is a closet supporter of Giray, Allura is opposed, not just to our practice of giving children a better home, but also to being part of a larger religious Millet. As for Cortana, she's a patriot, but here's the thing; she was born in the Empire, to one of the secular Millets. That means she can go either way. Your job is to support Frederick, sideline Allura, and find out what Cortana's true allegiances are. Also, I've noticed you being friendly with that guard; try to get as much influence with Waldenshore's 'army' as much as possible."

"I will be your pawn," spoke Ioannes, "but I am doing this only to fulfil my own goals; remember that. Now, can you please allow me to help my...acquaintances in the battle?"

"All right, all right," Sabira left, allowing Ioannes to finally shoot his crossbow at Artholath, and hopefully save Genevieve and Ionathan...

@The Harbinger of Ferocity, @Jon Y, @The Fated Fallen, @IcePezz, @ArenaSnow.

The sheer viciousness of the combat was what the aptly named "Red" reveled in; the scent of the blood of men and monsters clung in the air, it drove him to wild, bestial frenzy. Like a stoked flame, his wrath burned brighter as each blow Zargon had landed upon his hide wept small streaks of crimson. The demon, not favored by fortune and victim of his own arrogance, had not left the fight so easily as he had desired - oh no, he had wounds to lick... ones that were not bound to heal as the others with anything but time. Injuries to one's soul, what makes them them were no minor things, and angels and demons alike wore them as suit of fleshy armor, both at once indestructible to the works of men but vulnerable to something more sublime.

The vengeance and battlelust grew to pitch as the coward Zargon pulled himself away from this world in a concussive wave that shunted them all aside and as a darkness set in upon the battlefield; "living" darkness, no less. One, unknowingly assumed itself upon the seemingly vulnerable attacker, but as soon as it embraced the energy made real that was her form, she vanished without trace beyond a fine, faint mist that varied between clear spring and blue sea.

She was, just as many things, not as it appeared.

Instead it found itself under the tide of rage that was a beast of a man bestowed with the gift of its shape, too. Thrown across the cracked stone that was all that remained of Zargon's place among the body strewn street, that pool of vast fury destined for a demon unleashed itself upon the shadow which buckled as the air caught with a bright azure light. That killing blow "The Red" so prepared to level upon his diabolical foe reaped a lesser one as fangs struck with supernatural clarity and power. But the brief clap of discharged energy and the smell of ozone proved not to be a distraction to "The Red", who hungered wildly for bloody justice; still burning bright.

Whipping about, his golden eyes and blood stained fur bristled and his tongue rolled in heavy panting, he leveled upon feeling the throes of the hatred subside. Instinct no more in control he transitioned into the form of a man once more, shaking himself off briefly; the dynamics of the battle at hand had changed, and now free of his bestial wrath, so too had his.

Drawing a deep breath to steady himself, his arms then hands presented a gesture, almost as if striking at a distance; what transpired was not some form of concentrated magical strike, but a boon of restoration. Soaked and bloodied as he was, not terribly worse for wear, the other combatants now had foes of the own to confront - worse yet, even heroic men grew tired. It was for these reasons "The Red" bestowed upon them a gift of his Incarnum, healing body and spirit at the same time. Whereas the impact of the deed was pronounced upon beasts, men, even tame men, still held somewhere within them their long lost wild ties.

The amplified regeneration that now filled flesh, resolve and soul in Ionathan and Ioannes, the savage was as quickly as he began, off once more, vanishing between the rubble in moments in an ebon pantherine fomr.

Whatever demonic prey he set himself to now, he was determined to gain the ambush...

@Jon Y@The Fated Fallen@IcePezz@ArenaSnow@Letter Bee

Ionathan braced for the demons charge, but just as it was getting close a bolt struck into its side, the force of the bolt stopped the demons charge in its tracks making the demon stagger to one side. Ionathan looked in the direction where the bolt came from and saw Ioannes who gained nothing but approval from Ionathan, the shot had been calculated in such short time that only the most skilled would be able to accomplish.

Turning his attention back to the demon who had now recovered made numerous attempts to get past him to the scholar but each time a swing from his longsword deterred the demon from his path. Ionathan now when on offensive, starting off with wide swings to get more distance between the demon and the scholar, then using short quick slashes and thrusts to keep the demon on its toes.

But Ionathan knew he was bound to make a mistake and soon enough he made a swing with too much force and could not go back into his stance quickly enough. The demon cast a force of energy that caught Ionathan in stomach, Ionathan flew backward landing on his back, rolling on the ground he quickly recovered only to gag at the feeling in his stomach.

All of a sudden the pain went away and his body was filled with strength, he straightened himself up and looked at the demon. Ionathan now felt righteous in his cause to kill the demon and launched himself in to another fight with the demon how now had made it dangerously close to the scholar.

With his renewed mind and body Ionathan attacks were like a furious rain of steel upon the demon who now had to give ground with almost every attack. The Demon tried to use another spell but Ionathan saw this one coming, he crouched instantly and with a precise lunge pierced the demons hand with the tip of his sword. Ionathan pulled back his sword from the wound it made, twisting as he did so to cause more damage to the demons flesh.

Giving ground himself so that a few feet were now in between Ionathan and the demon he levelled his sword one more. “Demon, you have fought well but clearly you must see that you have be bested". This boost was meant to give his friends enough time to gang up on the demon, he hoped it was enough.
@The Harbinger of Ferocity, @Letter Bee, @The Fated Fallen, @IcePezz, @ArenaSnow

Orchid readied to fire her arrow when she noticed the dragon awakening. Quickly hiding herself Orchid watched to see what the dragon was going to do. The dragon did not seem to stir, but Orchid could tell it was awake. Whether or not it knew where they were, or if it even knew they were there, was something Orchid was going to have to carefully consider. So she took out another arrow, along with the arrow with the rope tied to it.

Orchid took aim from her hiding spot. Her intentions were to fire both the arrows at once, but at different targets: The arrow with the rope she intended to shoot above the artifact they need (Or roughly above it). The other arrow would fly closer to the dragon, but not hit him. She was meaning to have the arrow whiz by his ears or eyes, or hit somewhere near him. It was a distraction, basically. Because Orchid didn't have a lot of weapons that could take on a dragon, though she was certain that a well placed arrow could at least ground the dragon. "Get ready kid. Here... We go." Orchid fired her arrows, one with the rope hitting the ceiling above the artifact, and the other arrow that just barely pierced the dragon's ear, landing into the stone. Orchid then moved, so that the dragon couldn't pinpoint her location.

Regina stretched from her meditation and stood with a smile, seeing the arrow in place. With a nod to Orchid, she lifted herself from the ground, hoping Orchid had a good grip, before quickly sliding up the rope. Looking at the artifact, she put a hand out, using her telekinesis to lift the ornate object from the pile towards her. With the item's lift, there was very little sound, hopefully enough that this dragon would stay asleep, for she didn't know whether it had awoken or not during her meditation. She hadn't yet noticed the new people that joined them or even considered the thought the other dragon she heard of would be arriving. Once the prize was in her grasp, she quickly slid it into her backpack. "Just hope I'll be able to bring it back before they wake up." she said, sliding her backpack on her back again before sliding down the rope.

Isabeau shuffled quietly in the darkness as they neared the rest of the group near the sleeping dragon. The others seemed to have a plan to get the artifact, so she wasn't necessarily needed for that. But there was certainly evil afoot. Her gaze was fixed on the ground in front of her, her slowly moved to grab the axe on her back. There was movement in the cave, but she couldn't tell where from. The lose pebbles on the ground started to move, shaking wildly as whatever it was made its way closer to them.

She did it! Regina grabbed the artifact and slipped it in her backpack.

Izzy inched closer to the group. "You got that stone yet? I'd say we better get a move on quickly ... that dragon may not seem so dangerous, but I can guarantee you that something else is on it's way here right now., she was anxious, her gaze darted around the area.

Just as Regina's toes met solid ground, a gust of wind blew past the group, extinguishing any light that had brightened their way. They could hear the slithering of the 'sleeping dragon' on her bed of coin as she moved away from the group. And suddenly, a large roar echoed through the room. The ground shook, the group could barely see anything around them save the glinting gold that littered the floor.

"Who dares steal from me?!" a deep voice demanded

Artholath snarled, glaring at Ionathan in hatred from deep flaring blue eyes. Unfortunately, enough time was wasted for whatever advantage he would have from surprise to be gone. He could already see looks coming in his direction from the corner of his eyes. The battle had indeed left him scarred, more than the pesky dwarf from earlier had. It was no longer to his advantage to continue.

Letting one more snarl, he summoned quick ice shards to his fingers and blasted them at Ionathan and the sage and whomever else may have been coming in his direction without much accuracy, an act intended to distract instead of damage, while running at inhuman speed towards the nearest alley.

Save death for another day...

Ioannes roared as he felt the boost of ferocity taking him, and the man withdrew his crossbow and, taking his sword out, rushed at Artolath, feeling as though he can take on the world. Of course, the Demon, frightened, just had to duck into a nearby alley; in said alley, he would smell a woman's scent, mingled with the smell of rags and dirt. Sabira clearly wasn't good at evading those with senses other than sight.

Nevertheless, the Mamluk, reminded of his nation's agent, felt rage in his heart, rage against a maker of misery, and let out his repressed feelings against the Demon, which was made possible by the fact that Ioannes was fast, being close to his prime. Tasting victory, he slashed down at Artholath's tail...

@The Harbinger of Ferocity, @Jon Y, @The Fated Fallen, @IcePezz, @ArenaSnow.

With joyful predatory glee the green eyes shown bright, burning with a resurgence of supernatural vigor; wide and fierce once more, a heart stirred by the scent of blood and the lick of injury, they held within incredible intensity beyond that of mere human capacity. Whether it was fate, divine providence or mere chance, the demon had chosen to retreat and of all things to find itself in the sights of, it was none other than the killer stare of a concealed foe, lying in wait. Raving with a second wind both physical and spiritual, the work of the soul-magic Incarnum, the beast struck out from just above and before, all without warning - claws splayed like rending hooks and jaws thrown wide to devour.

Had Artholath known the savage, the Beast-Among-Men, had been stalking him it was likely this choice would not have been made so recklessly; a foe best not toyed with. In a way, it was by fortune of Zargon's sudden departure and the shadow's banishment the wizened barbarian had slunk to the shadows to prepare his next attack and lick his wounds; both of which he did, to great success with the mystic assistance from within. Yet this? This was an unexpected and certainly grand prize - the prey driven full force into claw and fang.

Now, thrown upon the fiend at great speed - as though the darkness before had taken pantherine form - "The Red" called for blood with a primal cry. Booming, it threw ash, debris and dust in the wake of the blindsiding attack, executing with calculated precision; the sort born of beast, man and something... more.

Yet this was not the worst of things...

Here there was nowhere to run, no where to flee, pressed into the fatal funnel; the Mamluk with sword brandished and overcome by the zeal of battle, the scorched stone walls with heaps of collapsed structure, and the unforeseen assault that would strike him with the condensed rage of a hurricane of rending talons.

Whereas Zargon had shrunk away with wounds to long remember his enemies by - ones of crippling, maiming injury - Artholath was likely not about to be so lucky and this moment was perhaps the last "all or nothing" the heroes here would see unless fate proved to be merciful.

@Jon Y@Letter Bee@The Fated Fallen@IcePezz@ArenaSnow

The shards of ice came crashing down on Genevieve, and was very successful at causing the distraction. At least for her. Fortunately for the rest of the group, she had served her purpose at this point and was no longer an incredibly important factor in any of this.

They had drove Zargon out of town, and even Artholath had retreated away from them. Despite her injuries, she could finally breathe. She had the utmost confidence in the rest of the group to come out of this victorious. Whether it was a fools notion or not would be seen in the next few moments. But she turned her back towards the group as she went to lean on a bench not far from their position.

Glancing towards the gnome she asked simply "Would you happen to have a tonic? Or something at least to restore my strength?"

@The Fated Fallen

Artholath ran with the force of blind demonic instinct. Yet those instincts failed him when a massive force crashed into him, both physical and magical in nature.

The assault left him no time to react, and Artholath was thrown by the impact into the ground, smack between two enemies. Strong ones.

"Damn you for this trap Chandon!" he snarled out loud in wheezing breaths in the moments before he would be assaulted again. It was obvious this group not only had a target that was more than the average prey, but defenses that were many times more potent than a single middle-class demon such as himself would be able to handle. He would have never come had he known of this result.

He had only one option open, and it was a most undesirable one. He lacked the power to fight two enemies on a roll, and was stuck between them in a tight alley - a sure sign of defeat. He would have to use the most extreme option; one of Pyrrhic victory, for though he might escape and leave his enemies a little worse off, he would be hard pressed to survive.

Yet as in all cases, Artholath was willing to take the most bleak way out of immediate destruction. Even with the lack of possibility for his survival.

He concentrated his energies quickly, abandoning limbs in favor of a solid mass of energy filling his demonic chest, making it glow a deep blue color and dropping the temperature of the alley many degrees.

Then he literally exploded, his focus causing his form to be shred and in the center blown to pieces, ice particles and raw cold streaks of blue flying in all directions, and above it all, a deep blue shimmering substance that began to quickly disperse throughout the alley.

And then, a small crater in the ground, demonic parts littering the alley, and a light blue mist that slowly spread and vanished across the alley were all that remained of him.

Ioannes crossed his arms to protect his eyes and face, allowing the ice shards to score several wounds, while his legs were hit by the blasts of cold, but the Mamluk did not fall down; he had his pride. As the explosion faded, he observed the scene; it appeared that Artolath - not that he knew who the demon was named - had been killed, although with demons, who can be sure?

Either way, he looked at The Red, feeling more impressed by the bestial fighter more and more; he surely was one who can take on ten Mamluks, even twenty, all armed with guns.

"He mentioned someone named Chandon..." he finally spoke. "A higher-up among the demons of Hell or the Hells?" Someone to research, certainly, although he didn't have the time; he had orders to 'creatively interpret'.

"Anyway," said the young man,."I'm going to see if the others are okay. If there is some remaining presence of the Demon...well, you're the expert on that." And with that, he went back to where Tirrarian and Genevieve were.

"We've ended the threat to you," he said to the latter. "Thanks for the help you gave. That said, though, that demon spoke of someone named Chandon; do you know of him?"

@The Harbinger of Ferocity, @Jon Y, @The Fated Fallen, @IcePezz, @ArenaSnow.

When the lights went out, Lonmil was the first to react. He drew a dagger and moved towards the dragon, able to see in the darkness. "Run!" He shouted at the group. "Gil, make sure they get out! I'll catch up!"

Gil frowned at his short friend, or at least in the direction his voice had come from, before pulling out a small, glowing gem. It gave off enough light to allow him to see and move quickly. He touched each being's hand with a calm voice, "This way." He remembered enough of the way out to not get lost, he hoped.

Once Lonmil was left alone with the beast, he smiled. "I'll make sure the treasure is returned to you." He sheathed his dagger and showed both hands empty, hoping the dragon would take it as a peace offering.

"Let's go." Siegfried said, heading towards the cave exit. When he came to the path that the other dragon had been down, he stopped. "Keep going. Don't stop." He followed at the back of the group, spinning and drawing his sword.

If the first dragon followed, or if the second dragon came out after them, he would take his stance, ready to fight the beast. "I hear a lot of talk about you dragons. Let's see how tough you really are!"

If both dragons followed them out, he'd sigh and shake his head. "I've been in worse situations than this."

If neither of the dragons came out, he would turn to his team. "I suggest we keep moving before they get here."

Epilogue

((Collab post between ArenaSnow and Letter Bee))

The Girayid Network on the island had been purged, and Ioannes had been given most of the credit, credit that, once Giray itself had redeemed its image on the Island by rescuing it from the fleet of demons that were preparing to attack, he can use in order to negotiate a reconcilliation and alliance, an alliance that can be leveraged to start his campaign against the Slave System, a campaign that would start with gaining the allegiance of the Religious Millets, who would gravitate to those who fought demons.

However, the authority of the Five Priesthoods of Giray would not be enough; what was needed was the backing of what backed the Priesthoods themselves; aka the Gods/God/Angels/Whatever. And so Ioannes was busy in Waldenshore's main temple, studying; it was good that Priestess Allura had not known of his true allegiances.

Engrossed in the Temple's library, sitting before a desk, he would not notice any visitors...

The temple was quiet, filled only with the quiet cracking of candle flame. A shifting of the air behind Ioannes went only undetected by the depth of his studies.

However, his concentration was broken by the sound of a solid object meeting temple stone behind him; not a loud noise, but one that echoed in the chamber.

Ioannes turned around, drawing his Pistol at the source of the voice. Was it a demon, or perhaps a human opponent?

Sitting in a chair a few feet behind him, a chair that to Ioannes's memory wasn't there before, was what appeared to be a tall man in grey, flowing robes. His face was covered in hair, with a beard going down to his lower neck, and with sharp but friendly eyes bluer than the sea. The most distinct part of his appearance, however, was the 6 foot spear standing upright in his hand beside the chair. The spear was covered in runes of every shape and many faded colors from bottom to speartip, and appeared as though it was made out of solid iron or a similar substance.

The man gave a half smile and said, "I suppose it is rude to appear behind someone. I apologise." He didn't seem to be a demon... but he did radiate something that wasn't human, either. He showed no indication of fear at having a pistol aimed at his chest.

"Who are you?" asked Ioannes. "You're not a demon, but are you a Mage? Or...something else entirely? I can tell, though, that you must be immensely powerful, while that spear...that spear's runes come from multiple liturgical languages from different faiths."

"Ah, yes... Kan Thanon. The Spear of Ages. It has kept up with the ages, indeed... better than I have..."

The man seemed to wander mentally, looking a little off to the side before refocusing his attention to Ioannes.

"I can assure you that I am no mage. I come from... ah, this is the difficult thing to explain. I suppose the proper phrase here is 'another place entirely'. I've come for a few select reasons, and you are one of them." he stated, as though that would make perfect sense by itself.

Ioannes withdrew his gun, turned his chair around to face the old man, then, with a relaxed expression, spoke:

"Are you an Angel, then?" If so, this opened up a new level of possibilities...as well as new perils; the Divine and the Infernal both asked high prices, the difference is that the former offered an equivalent compensation.

"Does this have to do with the crisis on the Island?" was his next question.

The man smiled.

"You have guessed correctly on both counts." He leaned back more, and put the spear over his lap.

"Although as for the second, the crisis is a little more... far reaching than it appears."

"My name is Aldur, and I am here to aid you and in the process restore the world to at least some degree of balance."

Ioannes nodded.

"And I am ready to help." Eye contact, a stare. "I am not so crass as to ask you for anything, but there is a burden on my heart that I bear." A sigh, and Ioannes's shoulders slumped down. "You know of Giray, right? The nation that takes with one hand and gives with the other? The nation whose people live in peace because of the cries and conditioning of enslaved children."

That last part was a statement, not a question.

"As I said, I am always willing to help, but...it would also give me peace of mind if this weight on my soul is lifted."

The man, or more appropriately angel, gave a small frown at the description.

"Yes... I know of them. I assume you wish me to involve myself in the affairs of that nation?" He cocked his head slightly, but gave no other indications of his attitude towards his question/statement.

"Not in the way you are thinking," the Mamluk said. "No direct interference is needed, merely...merely a mark of Divine Backing, one that gives me the mark of legitimacy in the eyes of the Five Religious Millets. That alone would be enough for me to accomplish my goals."

"I see." The angel pulled at his beard thoughtfully. "Hmm..." He spent half a minute in that same pose before seeming to come to a decision.

"The Millets aknowledge the third split of the Order... so I suppose it is a mark directly from that order that would show support." He began to form a very intricate, hand sized rune on his left hand in bright gold color.

"You may have this mark, but there is one small condition. You can spend some twenty or so years helping take down what I agree to be at the least a heavily misguided society. However, once those twenty or so years roll around, there will be a new rising that will at first appear to be a mere small demonic incursion... but that will in reality be set in motion by beings of a very high ken. I ask that you prepare yourself to battle evil again... and be prepared to return a small favor when the time comes."

"I say yes," Ioannes said firmly, offering his forehead to receive the mark. "I will make any sacrifice, as long as what is sacrificed is my own and no one else's, if it will help the Millets of Giray."

"Then it is done."

The angel slowly stood, spear in one hand and rune in the other.

He walked over to Ioannes, and pressed his hand on the Mamluk's forehead. Although there was a slight sizzling noise, Ioannes would feel no pain. Drawing his hand away to observe his handiwork, the angel gave a short nod. "Go now with this mark, Ioannes, and good luck on your journey. We will see each other again someday."

The angel began walking out, the doors to the temple opening of their own accord. He lifted his head to a grey sky, and with a flash was gone.