Leonidas Strider sat upon his black and white steed, Rafeus, as he rode at a canter towards the West, inside the Keep of Cloryn, pressed with stress and effort. Behind him, two fellow mercenaries, or "unofficial helpers" followed. Their job was to liberate the West Gate, which had fallen to the demons, something that could not be allowed at any stretch. He rode through the deserted and slightly broken streets, with the wind brushing against his face and body, or at least his slightly drunk mind felt. His hair flew backwards, and he rode with only a single hand upon the reigns, the other being at the sheathed long sword at his belt, with the intent reason of drawing it out the best he could.
He noted that the Gate wasn't too far away, and even from here, he could see the fires of the hellish demons. At the very least, there were around ten bodies lying around.
Showtime. He barked his orders to the men, with enough firmness to make a skilled army instructor like him, "RAZEEL, TAKE THE RIGHT LANE, AND YOU, KAREN, TAKE THE LEFT LANE! FLANK THEM, WHILE I TAKE THE FRONT ON. GET YOUR DAMN BOWS READY." It was enough for them to split towards the right and left, following his orders, as he rode on forward, towards the Gate, which wasn't more than half a klick away from them.
He whipped the reigns on the horse prompting it to go faster, but it wouldn't. In fact, it was slowing down, slowly at first, but then it just stopped. It was chattering in terror, due to the fact that the demons terrified him. Or at least one of them did, who was much larger than the rest. He quickly dismounted, and let the poor horse run away, which it had obviously wanted to do since the siege began.
He unsheathed his long sword and short sword, and walked forwards. Razeel and Karen were both ready, which was something good. They'd begin as soon as he made contact.
"HEY THERE, ITS ME, MICKEY, MOTHERFUCKERS!" he yelled, dragging them towards him. It only took a few seconds for the 8 feet masses of plating and powerful muscles to start running for him. He sighed, and all the times he'd fought demons came to mind. Each time he had a personal victory, they would lose on the larger scale. Cloryn was different. It was far too important to lose. But now was definitely not the time for such thought. The first one he'd handle on his own, the second and third would get three flaming arrows in their necks.
As the first nine foot abomination came at him, the thought to pray to the Angel's occurred, but he knew they were pieces of shit that care not for humanity, so it meant nothing.
The grunting monster in front of him raised his giant clawed hand, a crude blade in the other. "Hell no motherfucker." Were his words.