kapuchuThat is a very confusing choice of words.
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@NarayanK Alright, have fun with it.
@Lazo Can I use your character for my contest entry / picture? o-o
*blinks* I guess, though I haven't been keeping up to date with the contests so I don't know what you're planning to do with it.
Slow progress on the 'RGTS' collab. People are busy so it moves rather sporadically.
@Lucius Cypher Tend to prefer google docs for collabs. Has a built in spell-checker, at least. If you can only work on this kind of thing from a phone, the apps are a lot more functional than the pad.
@Lucius Cypher Tend to prefer google docs for collabs. Has a built in spell-checker, at least. If you can only work on this kind of thing from a phone, the apps are a lot more functional than the pad.
A grunting snarl escaped Fenn’s throat as the full mass of the Allegiance collided against him. In a startling show of strength, the impact barely slowed the centaur’s charge as it moved the both of them out of the rain of fire. It mattered little to the demon. It just meant the enemy was within easy reach.
Fenn’s fangs closed on the angel’s shoulder, where the armor had been stripped off. The taste of iron filled his mouth before they crashed against the adjacent building. The shuddering impact loosened his one armed grip on the angel’s armor. A second crash against a pillar managed to dislodge him, and he fell to the wayside.
The dog began to roll upright even as the sound of hoof falls turned and closed again. The Allegiance’s sword swept down, illuminated by the fiery light coming from outside. It crashed against the Ardor’s blade and was held in place, the metal groaning under the strain.
The dog stared up at the golden figure. Then swallowed the flesh he had torn from its shoulder.
He pushed, forcing the blades apart, forcing the heavy figure of the Allegiance to retreat a step. Fenn moved to claim the lost ground almost immediately, and the stolen blade struck the angel’s shield with enough force to rock it back against one of the several box-laden, metal scaffolds that dotted the interior of the building. Growling through bloodied fangs, Fenn pounced.
This angel was soft under that armor, just as soft as all the others they had torn apart to get there. Oh, it was larger, to be sure, and the missing chunk of muscle on its shoulder barely seemed to inconvenience it, but Fenn had to wonder just how much he could tear off before it stopped moving. The moment he got a decent grip on the centaur, the moment he got past the golden armor, its fate was sealed. The Allegiance must have known this as well as him, for as the hound’s claws neared it, its blade slid between them. Pain blossomed in his open palm. The angel’s shield suddenly swept upwards, striking the side of his jaw and Fenn staggered to the side.
He barely managed a stumbling step before two heavy objects planted themselves under his arm. Ribs creaked under the weight of gold-clad hooves and the Hellhound toppled, crashing over the boxes and metal.
A new light illuminated the room, and a clicking metal noise came from the Allegiance’s position. Fenn rolled onto all fours, ignoring the pulsating pain on his side, and bared his fangs in the angel’s direction.
The centaur’s sword was raised over its head. It had split into segments, all encapsulated in a string of roiling fire that swept outwards like a bladed whip as the arm came down. Fenn raised the Ardor’s sword. It crashed against one of the bladed spurs, but the whip merely wrapped around it. Fenn hissed as the next blade struck near his neck, grinding against his collarbones, while others struck the scales on his back.
Fenn’s muzzle twisted into a toothy smile as flame surrounded his left claw, spread open on the ground. A pillar of fire erupted from the ground beneath the Allegiance washing over its armor and obscuring its vision. Blood and smoke welled from Fenn’s injuries as the bladed whip was drawn back.
The Hellhound moved with it, the angelic blade still clutched tightly in one long limb, and swung at the obscured form of the angel. The flame was extinguished as quickly as it had started, revealing the Allegiance with its shield at the ready, but Fenn was not aiming at the centaur’s torso. The serrated blade struck one of its forelegs, the terrible force of the blow pushing it past the golden armor like a hot knife through butter. Metal bent, bone crumpled, and the limb flew into the depths of the warehouse.
The Allegiance reared, clumsily trying to stumble away on its remaining limbs. Fenn closed, drew his right arm backwards, and swung his sword forward. The angel hastily rose its shield. The golden sword struck with a sound like an explosion and shattered, the force of the blow knocking the centaur off-balance. Heavy, clattering noises filled their surroundings as the armored form of the Allegiance toppled onto its side.
Fenn wasted no time falling over it. He pushed aside a vainly raised shield, using it to pin down the Allegiance’s sword arm. The angel struggled, trying to push away the demon and stand up again, even if it was on three legs, but there was little chance for that at that point. Fenn was known for his strength, and he had all the leverage.
One of his tree-trunk limbs rose slowly, as if cocking the hammer of a gun, clawed digits closed into a fist. Fenn brought it down under the angel’s arms. Armor cracked. The Allegiance tensed, ceasing its struggle for a moment, as though the breath had been knocked out from it, before redoubling its efforts. The arm was raised again, then fell. A spider web of fissures ran through the plates.
Fenn raised his arm, but this time the digits were spread open, claws bared. The arm fell down. Metal bent, bone crumpled, and the hound’s large claws plunged into the centaur’s rib-cage. Once again the centaur tensed, but as Fenn began pushing out to the side, the angel’s struggles suddenly reached a fever pitch. With a clicking sound, armor fell out of place and clattered onto the floor. Flesh stretched and, with a grunt of exertion, the demon’s arm burst through the front of the Allegiance’s chest, spilling red over the warehouse floor.
The Hellhound looked down onto the still corpse, absentmindedly licking his muzzle as blood and smoke hissed from the wounds he had sustained before glancing outside. As entertaining as this bout had been, it was not the angel they had been ordered to kill.
Fenn’s fangs closed on the angel’s shoulder, where the armor had been stripped off. The taste of iron filled his mouth before they crashed against the adjacent building. The shuddering impact loosened his one armed grip on the angel’s armor. A second crash against a pillar managed to dislodge him, and he fell to the wayside.
The dog began to roll upright even as the sound of hoof falls turned and closed again. The Allegiance’s sword swept down, illuminated by the fiery light coming from outside. It crashed against the Ardor’s blade and was held in place, the metal groaning under the strain.
The dog stared up at the golden figure. Then swallowed the flesh he had torn from its shoulder.
He pushed, forcing the blades apart, forcing the heavy figure of the Allegiance to retreat a step. Fenn moved to claim the lost ground almost immediately, and the stolen blade struck the angel’s shield with enough force to rock it back against one of the several box-laden, metal scaffolds that dotted the interior of the building. Growling through bloodied fangs, Fenn pounced.
This angel was soft under that armor, just as soft as all the others they had torn apart to get there. Oh, it was larger, to be sure, and the missing chunk of muscle on its shoulder barely seemed to inconvenience it, but Fenn had to wonder just how much he could tear off before it stopped moving. The moment he got a decent grip on the centaur, the moment he got past the golden armor, its fate was sealed. The Allegiance must have known this as well as him, for as the hound’s claws neared it, its blade slid between them. Pain blossomed in his open palm. The angel’s shield suddenly swept upwards, striking the side of his jaw and Fenn staggered to the side.
He barely managed a stumbling step before two heavy objects planted themselves under his arm. Ribs creaked under the weight of gold-clad hooves and the Hellhound toppled, crashing over the boxes and metal.
A new light illuminated the room, and a clicking metal noise came from the Allegiance’s position. Fenn rolled onto all fours, ignoring the pulsating pain on his side, and bared his fangs in the angel’s direction.
The centaur’s sword was raised over its head. It had split into segments, all encapsulated in a string of roiling fire that swept outwards like a bladed whip as the arm came down. Fenn raised the Ardor’s sword. It crashed against one of the bladed spurs, but the whip merely wrapped around it. Fenn hissed as the next blade struck near his neck, grinding against his collarbones, while others struck the scales on his back.
Fenn’s muzzle twisted into a toothy smile as flame surrounded his left claw, spread open on the ground. A pillar of fire erupted from the ground beneath the Allegiance washing over its armor and obscuring its vision. Blood and smoke welled from Fenn’s injuries as the bladed whip was drawn back.
The Hellhound moved with it, the angelic blade still clutched tightly in one long limb, and swung at the obscured form of the angel. The flame was extinguished as quickly as it had started, revealing the Allegiance with its shield at the ready, but Fenn was not aiming at the centaur’s torso. The serrated blade struck one of its forelegs, the terrible force of the blow pushing it past the golden armor like a hot knife through butter. Metal bent, bone crumpled, and the limb flew into the depths of the warehouse.
The Allegiance reared, clumsily trying to stumble away on its remaining limbs. Fenn closed, drew his right arm backwards, and swung his sword forward. The angel hastily rose its shield. The golden sword struck with a sound like an explosion and shattered, the force of the blow knocking the centaur off-balance. Heavy, clattering noises filled their surroundings as the armored form of the Allegiance toppled onto its side.
Fenn wasted no time falling over it. He pushed aside a vainly raised shield, using it to pin down the Allegiance’s sword arm. The angel struggled, trying to push away the demon and stand up again, even if it was on three legs, but there was little chance for that at that point. Fenn was known for his strength, and he had all the leverage.
One of his tree-trunk limbs rose slowly, as if cocking the hammer of a gun, clawed digits closed into a fist. Fenn brought it down under the angel’s arms. Armor cracked. The Allegiance tensed, ceasing its struggle for a moment, as though the breath had been knocked out from it, before redoubling its efforts. The arm was raised again, then fell. A spider web of fissures ran through the plates.
Fenn raised his arm, but this time the digits were spread open, claws bared. The arm fell down. Metal bent, bone crumpled, and the hound’s large claws plunged into the centaur’s rib-cage. Once again the centaur tensed, but as Fenn began pushing out to the side, the angel’s struggles suddenly reached a fever pitch. With a clicking sound, armor fell out of place and clattered onto the floor. Flesh stretched and, with a grunt of exertion, the demon’s arm burst through the front of the Allegiance’s chest, spilling red over the warehouse floor.
The Hellhound looked down onto the still corpse, absentmindedly licking his muzzle as blood and smoke hissed from the wounds he had sustained before glancing outside. As entertaining as this bout had been, it was not the angel they had been ordered to kill.
The large sword aimed for Lily stopped cold as it met the chains wrapped around Fenn’s arm. The large angel regarded the sudden intrusion, or so it seemed to the hound as the Ardor’s armored face angled upwards to face him. With a violent motion, the sword was pushed aside and a massive fist slammed against a hastily raised shield, sending the angel sliding back several feet.
Flashes of red and gold announced the arrival of two more, and Fenn was forced to take a step back as a golden blade flashed towards his face. The second angel moved to flank him, but a flash of steel struck its side, sending armor plating flying and the angel tottering.
Lily stepped in beside Fenn after having sent the angel flying, a spear-like weapon with a large, curved blade, instead of a shorter tip meant for stabbing, held in one hand. Her stance was an unprofessional one, seemingly full of holes in her defense, but Fenn had been on the receiving end of her Guan Dao, and knew full well that she was a terrifying force to behold when using that weapon especially.
She sprang forward, engaging the one she had wounded before. She blocked its initial sword strike, batting it aside with the handle of her weapon, before cutting downward across its faceplate. The armour protected it, but it was sent reeling. It charged again, attempting to stab her, but once more she batted its weapon aside, sending the angel flying back with a powerful blow to its gut. Again and again it attacked, slashing, hacking, and stabbing, and each time Lily ducked, dodged, parried, or simply swept its offense aside and retaliated.
Of course, for all of this display, it still left Fenn with the remaining assailant. Fenn backed away another step as the golden blade flew across his vision, almost nicking his snout. The Ardor took another step, drawing its weapon back as it readied for a lunge. Fenn took the opportunity. He drew to the side as the weapon darted forward, and instead of plunging into his chest, the blade struck against his side at an odd angle, eliciting a pained grunt but otherwise skittering harmlessly off the hardened scales. The claws of his left arm wrapped around the angel’s armored wrist, pulling him off-balance, while his other paw clasped the back of the Ardor’s neck. Drawing forward, Fenn lifted the armored figure before slamming it down face first on the concrete with his full weight. The large, golden blade fell out of its hand.
He raised an arm to deliver the finishing blow, only for a flash of red at the corner of his eye to catch his attention. He drew his arm back, blocking the first Ardor’s blade just as he had done when it had been targeting Lily. This time, however, red filled his vision as the Ardor twisted and brought his shield forward against the Hellhound’s head.
The blow staggered him, and Fenn stumbled back just in time to escape the sweeping slash aimed for his throat. The angel stepped forward, raising its arm for another strike. Below him, something heavy clattered against his claws. Fenn grasped it on instinct, and with a furious bellow swung the object against the Ardor. The golden sword the first Ardor had dropped batted its cousin aside with tempestuous force, crashing against the angel’s armor and sending it careening away from him, an ugly gash marring the upper part of its chest.
Beside him, Lily continued playing with the lone Ardor. She met its charge, hitting its weapon hard with her own. She jumped back, leaving herself open. It sprang forward, intent on taking advantage of her moment of weakness. She grinned and sidestepped, swinging her guan dao at it even as it transformed into a warhammer.
“Too slow!” she cried, the hammer impacting on its helmet, shattering it and sending the angel crashing to the ground several metres away.
Fenn bared his fangs as he watched the three battered angels. The one Lily had hammered away rested splayed on the ground, still reeling from the impact. The other two, one only armed with an unsteadily held shield and bent armor, the other nursing the wound in its upper torso, drew back slowly towards their companion, shields facing the two demons.
The Hellhound snarled, taking a step forward, before several pillars of light descended from above between the two groups.
Fenn forced his anger to cool as reinforcements took shape before them. Anger and excitement. He had begun to worry that they had already taken the measure of the angels stationed in this city, but the forces arrayed before them seemed fit to sate him. Of the two angels that alighted before the mob, the larger of the two drew Fenn’s eye.
They had found their target, he understood, and suddenly the entourage made sense. A valued commander was bound to have bodyguards. Fenn set his left arm on the ground, holding the arm bearing the angelic blade out to the side, as though ready to charge. The ends of his fur simmered with small flames.
“It seems they welcome us personally, Imp,” he grunted under the small one’s speech.
She smirked, leaning her hammer against her shoulder in a relaxed position. “And with as much drama as one would expect of a school play.” She cocked an eyebrow at Fenn’s look. “What?”
Fenn grunted. “A failing. Drama never killed the enemy.”
And only one needed to be killed this time, even if they were faced with a small army, Fenn reflected. He had not forgotten about their shadow, either. It had not bothered to hide from them, but neither had it seen it fit to intercede so far. If their intentions had been harmful to them, he felt they would have taken steps to conceal themselves. This, in turn, made him wonder if they had not been waiting for this very confrontation. If they had, Fenn and Lily may have created an opportunity. For what, he was not completely sure of, but he had his suspicions. Some of which could greatly simplify or complicate their mission.
Whatever the case, the die was cast. The soldiers behind the general cheered at the conclusion of their leader’s posturing. He had never understood why some being’s tongues ran loose at the moment of killing their foes. Barks and snarls were warnings. Murder needed no words, and to think otherwise was to allow the chaos to unfold on another’s whim. Fenn himself had never been one to squander such opportunities, and as such he had began to ready himself from the moment they spotted their target. An orange glow had appeared on the pavement under the general’s feet as the Archangel’s declaration neared its conclusion.
As the first ‘Hurrah!’ died down, a torrent of fire blossomed from below the Champion. A series of javelins followed as Lily’s weapon changed shape, already held over her shoulder. The projectiles were aimed slightly to the side of the general, so as to catch him should he discover and dodge the fire.
Flashes of red and gold announced the arrival of two more, and Fenn was forced to take a step back as a golden blade flashed towards his face. The second angel moved to flank him, but a flash of steel struck its side, sending armor plating flying and the angel tottering.
Lily stepped in beside Fenn after having sent the angel flying, a spear-like weapon with a large, curved blade, instead of a shorter tip meant for stabbing, held in one hand. Her stance was an unprofessional one, seemingly full of holes in her defense, but Fenn had been on the receiving end of her Guan Dao, and knew full well that she was a terrifying force to behold when using that weapon especially.
She sprang forward, engaging the one she had wounded before. She blocked its initial sword strike, batting it aside with the handle of her weapon, before cutting downward across its faceplate. The armour protected it, but it was sent reeling. It charged again, attempting to stab her, but once more she batted its weapon aside, sending the angel flying back with a powerful blow to its gut. Again and again it attacked, slashing, hacking, and stabbing, and each time Lily ducked, dodged, parried, or simply swept its offense aside and retaliated.
Of course, for all of this display, it still left Fenn with the remaining assailant. Fenn backed away another step as the golden blade flew across his vision, almost nicking his snout. The Ardor took another step, drawing its weapon back as it readied for a lunge. Fenn took the opportunity. He drew to the side as the weapon darted forward, and instead of plunging into his chest, the blade struck against his side at an odd angle, eliciting a pained grunt but otherwise skittering harmlessly off the hardened scales. The claws of his left arm wrapped around the angel’s armored wrist, pulling him off-balance, while his other paw clasped the back of the Ardor’s neck. Drawing forward, Fenn lifted the armored figure before slamming it down face first on the concrete with his full weight. The large, golden blade fell out of its hand.
He raised an arm to deliver the finishing blow, only for a flash of red at the corner of his eye to catch his attention. He drew his arm back, blocking the first Ardor’s blade just as he had done when it had been targeting Lily. This time, however, red filled his vision as the Ardor twisted and brought his shield forward against the Hellhound’s head.
The blow staggered him, and Fenn stumbled back just in time to escape the sweeping slash aimed for his throat. The angel stepped forward, raising its arm for another strike. Below him, something heavy clattered against his claws. Fenn grasped it on instinct, and with a furious bellow swung the object against the Ardor. The golden sword the first Ardor had dropped batted its cousin aside with tempestuous force, crashing against the angel’s armor and sending it careening away from him, an ugly gash marring the upper part of its chest.
Beside him, Lily continued playing with the lone Ardor. She met its charge, hitting its weapon hard with her own. She jumped back, leaving herself open. It sprang forward, intent on taking advantage of her moment of weakness. She grinned and sidestepped, swinging her guan dao at it even as it transformed into a warhammer.
“Too slow!” she cried, the hammer impacting on its helmet, shattering it and sending the angel crashing to the ground several metres away.
Fenn bared his fangs as he watched the three battered angels. The one Lily had hammered away rested splayed on the ground, still reeling from the impact. The other two, one only armed with an unsteadily held shield and bent armor, the other nursing the wound in its upper torso, drew back slowly towards their companion, shields facing the two demons.
The Hellhound snarled, taking a step forward, before several pillars of light descended from above between the two groups.
Fenn forced his anger to cool as reinforcements took shape before them. Anger and excitement. He had begun to worry that they had already taken the measure of the angels stationed in this city, but the forces arrayed before them seemed fit to sate him. Of the two angels that alighted before the mob, the larger of the two drew Fenn’s eye.
They had found their target, he understood, and suddenly the entourage made sense. A valued commander was bound to have bodyguards. Fenn set his left arm on the ground, holding the arm bearing the angelic blade out to the side, as though ready to charge. The ends of his fur simmered with small flames.
“It seems they welcome us personally, Imp,” he grunted under the small one’s speech.
She smirked, leaning her hammer against her shoulder in a relaxed position. “And with as much drama as one would expect of a school play.” She cocked an eyebrow at Fenn’s look. “What?”
Fenn grunted. “A failing. Drama never killed the enemy.”
And only one needed to be killed this time, even if they were faced with a small army, Fenn reflected. He had not forgotten about their shadow, either. It had not bothered to hide from them, but neither had it seen it fit to intercede so far. If their intentions had been harmful to them, he felt they would have taken steps to conceal themselves. This, in turn, made him wonder if they had not been waiting for this very confrontation. If they had, Fenn and Lily may have created an opportunity. For what, he was not completely sure of, but he had his suspicions. Some of which could greatly simplify or complicate their mission.
Whatever the case, the die was cast. The soldiers behind the general cheered at the conclusion of their leader’s posturing. He had never understood why some being’s tongues ran loose at the moment of killing their foes. Barks and snarls were warnings. Murder needed no words, and to think otherwise was to allow the chaos to unfold on another’s whim. Fenn himself had never been one to squander such opportunities, and as such he had began to ready himself from the moment they spotted their target. An orange glow had appeared on the pavement under the general’s feet as the Archangel’s declaration neared its conclusion.
As the first ‘Hurrah!’ died down, a torrent of fire blossomed from below the Champion. A series of javelins followed as Lily’s weapon changed shape, already held over her shoulder. The projectiles were aimed slightly to the side of the general, so as to catch him should he discover and dodge the fire.
Wanted to drop by and say I probably won't be able to write for a few days. Finished my finals yesterday, but now I need to move out and take some flights back home.
A lone Light Angel dangled from Fenn’s grip, wings twitching helplessly behind him as it clawed at the large claws clutching at his neck. The angel’s lance was held on the dog’s other arm, the tip steaming. A wisp of vapor coming from the Hellhound’s shoulder betrayed where the spear had met flesh, managing a small cut.
On a beast his size, such a wound was insignificant, but several others such scratches marred the dog’s hide, along with slightly discolored patches of scales where an angelic lance’s beam had met its mark. As the largest, most obvious threat, Fenn drew in most of the enemy fire, and against so many small foes, he had little choice but to rely on the toughness of his hide to fend off the blows he could not avoid. Against the angel’s projectiles, Fenn had done what he could to procure cover. Several upturned vehicles and smouldering wrecks on their wake revealed his attempts at shielding himself, their surface twisted and bent both by the beams of light and the use he had given it. Thus far, the angels had managed to do little more than inconvenience them. Admittedly, he had expected more.
He cocked an eye towards his companion, still locked in battle with what remained of their attackers.
An inhuman scream split the air as the demoness viciously tore the wings off of the angel on the ground. He was left to bleed to death as the last remaining Affinity charged at her in outrage. She sidestepped his charge, plunging her sword through his skull in the same motion. Her clawed foot met his torso as he passed, kicking him away even as she held unto the sword. Its own momentum and the added power of her kick all but served to cleave its skull in two as her sword was wrenched free.
Lily sighed and stretched. Her sword vanished into aether, and the Affinity fell to the ground.
Another to add to the pile. Several other corpses, belonging to both bestial and humanoid angels littered the streets around them. Some held similar wounds to those borne by the ones Lily had dispatched, while others were crushed, mangled, or charred until their muscles shriveled and curled inwards, as though they had tried to shield their bodies with their limbs as fire consumed them.
Fenn turned his gaze towards the one still held in his grasp. The angel’s struggles had waned. Its arms simply wrapped over his in a seeming attempt to loosen the pressure on his throat. Fenn grunted. Bone cracked. The soldier fell limply to the ground. After a moment’s consideration, Fenn discarded the angel’s weapon as well, letting it clatter onto the asphalt.
They seemed to have reached a lull in the fighting. No angels were flying at them for the moment, but he did not doubt that there were others either on their way or fortifying their defenses closer to the tower. These angels had not been the greatest of warriors, but they had responded to the threat with surprising alacrity. Courtesy of those figures outlined against the sky? Were they scouts relating their current position to the rest of their forces? The Imp could stand to root them out if that was the case.
And there was more. The scent of demon had seemed to grow rather than diminish as the pair progressed through the streets, and he was certain it did not belong to the rabble gathering at the human settlement’s outskirts. Now his ears pricked as footsteps approached. Not from the human settlers, he knew. Those had either ran in a panic or locked themselves within their homes at the first hint of their approach.
“We have company, Imp.”
Lily’s feline ears swiveled around, turning backwards as if trying to catch the sound of the same steps Fenn had heard. “I know,” she said quietly, her gaze fixed forward. “Another demon, it smells like, but not someone from the Council.” She glanced up at him. “Ideas?”
The dog rolled his shoulders, falling onto all fours again. As long as this new party did not get in their way, he did not care what they did about them. So far, they did not seem inclined to try. Acknowledging them might change that. Or it may net them a potential ally, if their goals happened to align with theirs.
“No. Do as you will, but do so quickly. We must keep moving if we are to reach that tower.”
Lily shrugged, sounding like she was of much the same mind as Fenn. “Let’s keep moving,” she said while trying to wipe off the blood that had coated parts of her tail, “If they’re an enemy we can deal with them, and if they happen to be an ally, then nothing will change.”
“And the ones in the sky? Should we ignore those too?”
A mild look of surprise washed over Lily’s features. She turned her attention skywards, eyes narrowing at the far-off figures. She blinked, and Fenn could see that her eyes had changed; no longer slitted like a cat, but completely round and with a yellow sclera. “Angels,” she confirmed, her hawk-like eyes reverting to those of a cat again. “Army of Light, the humanoid ones.”
“I don’t like their eyes on us,” the dog grunted as he began moving forward. “Let us move to a side path, put some buildings between them and us.” The way forward would be contested either way. If they insisted on moving forward on a straight line, the angels would be able to set checkpoints to obstruct their progress. Better to vary their approach if they could. Lily followed in silent agreement.
On a beast his size, such a wound was insignificant, but several others such scratches marred the dog’s hide, along with slightly discolored patches of scales where an angelic lance’s beam had met its mark. As the largest, most obvious threat, Fenn drew in most of the enemy fire, and against so many small foes, he had little choice but to rely on the toughness of his hide to fend off the blows he could not avoid. Against the angel’s projectiles, Fenn had done what he could to procure cover. Several upturned vehicles and smouldering wrecks on their wake revealed his attempts at shielding himself, their surface twisted and bent both by the beams of light and the use he had given it. Thus far, the angels had managed to do little more than inconvenience them. Admittedly, he had expected more.
He cocked an eye towards his companion, still locked in battle with what remained of their attackers.
An inhuman scream split the air as the demoness viciously tore the wings off of the angel on the ground. He was left to bleed to death as the last remaining Affinity charged at her in outrage. She sidestepped his charge, plunging her sword through his skull in the same motion. Her clawed foot met his torso as he passed, kicking him away even as she held unto the sword. Its own momentum and the added power of her kick all but served to cleave its skull in two as her sword was wrenched free.
Lily sighed and stretched. Her sword vanished into aether, and the Affinity fell to the ground.
Another to add to the pile. Several other corpses, belonging to both bestial and humanoid angels littered the streets around them. Some held similar wounds to those borne by the ones Lily had dispatched, while others were crushed, mangled, or charred until their muscles shriveled and curled inwards, as though they had tried to shield their bodies with their limbs as fire consumed them.
Fenn turned his gaze towards the one still held in his grasp. The angel’s struggles had waned. Its arms simply wrapped over his in a seeming attempt to loosen the pressure on his throat. Fenn grunted. Bone cracked. The soldier fell limply to the ground. After a moment’s consideration, Fenn discarded the angel’s weapon as well, letting it clatter onto the asphalt.
They seemed to have reached a lull in the fighting. No angels were flying at them for the moment, but he did not doubt that there were others either on their way or fortifying their defenses closer to the tower. These angels had not been the greatest of warriors, but they had responded to the threat with surprising alacrity. Courtesy of those figures outlined against the sky? Were they scouts relating their current position to the rest of their forces? The Imp could stand to root them out if that was the case.
And there was more. The scent of demon had seemed to grow rather than diminish as the pair progressed through the streets, and he was certain it did not belong to the rabble gathering at the human settlement’s outskirts. Now his ears pricked as footsteps approached. Not from the human settlers, he knew. Those had either ran in a panic or locked themselves within their homes at the first hint of their approach.
“We have company, Imp.”
Lily’s feline ears swiveled around, turning backwards as if trying to catch the sound of the same steps Fenn had heard. “I know,” she said quietly, her gaze fixed forward. “Another demon, it smells like, but not someone from the Council.” She glanced up at him. “Ideas?”
The dog rolled his shoulders, falling onto all fours again. As long as this new party did not get in their way, he did not care what they did about them. So far, they did not seem inclined to try. Acknowledging them might change that. Or it may net them a potential ally, if their goals happened to align with theirs.
“No. Do as you will, but do so quickly. We must keep moving if we are to reach that tower.”
Lily shrugged, sounding like she was of much the same mind as Fenn. “Let’s keep moving,” she said while trying to wipe off the blood that had coated parts of her tail, “If they’re an enemy we can deal with them, and if they happen to be an ally, then nothing will change.”
“And the ones in the sky? Should we ignore those too?”
A mild look of surprise washed over Lily’s features. She turned her attention skywards, eyes narrowing at the far-off figures. She blinked, and Fenn could see that her eyes had changed; no longer slitted like a cat, but completely round and with a yellow sclera. “Angels,” she confirmed, her hawk-like eyes reverting to those of a cat again. “Army of Light, the humanoid ones.”
“I don’t like their eyes on us,” the dog grunted as he began moving forward. “Let us move to a side path, put some buildings between them and us.” The way forward would be contested either way. If they insisted on moving forward on a straight line, the angels would be able to set checkpoints to obstruct their progress. Better to vary their approach if they could. Lily followed in silent agreement.
Surveying the city from their vantage point, Fenn could not help but muse on how glad he was that he was no longer within the walls of the Council’s castle. Lily, who was pacing nearby, had commented on the place not being hospitable, but the Hellhound found the rough stone and the heat suffusing the interior entirely too… soothing.
He despised the feeling, particularly when he thought of the circumstances behind his presence there. When he had told Lily about the watchers, he had hoped to hint at a warning. The watchers would monitor all within their domain, but there was a difference between her and all other agents the Council had recruited.
She had an agent of her own.
Fenn was unbranded, something he was convinced to have some hidden significance. As it stood, he was little more than a guest. Worse, he was a guest’s guest, allowed to remain solely on the condition that he proved useful. He was lower than the watchers in that regard, in the idea that he may have retained a larger measure of freedom than all others, and his actions would be monitored closely. Worse, any suspicions that fell on him would fall on Lily as well. Explicit betrayal may not be needed to make the Council act against them, and who better to give the task of purging dangerous elements than the lowly, ubiquitous servants? If that came to pass, he and Lily would be targeted first, the dog suspected.
There was also the possibility that he was being paranoid and the lead Watcher saw him as little more than a brainless savage, unworthy of concern, but complacency had rarely done much to assure Fenn’s survival.
One way or another, the demoness had not seemed to understand the larger implications of their circumstances. Or perhaps she understood all too well and had simply refused to say as much. Such a thing was not speculation they needed their keepers hearing.
The dog grimaced. He detested games of intrigue. That he had participated in such a thing before had no bearing. He hated them then, and hated them now, and participation only ever seemed to bring misery to all involved. Completely haphazardly. Another reason to be relieved at their new surroundings. The violence and aggression in a battle were raw and clear. All those involved knew that by the end of the day there would be the taste of blood in their mouths – if they remained to taste it, that was.
He could spy numerous angels from their position, patrolling the inner perimeter. The Army of Light dominated the city’s skyline, while numerous patrols of more bestial angels dotted the streets, their movements given away by the light reflecting off their armor and trinkets. Most of the fighting was currently taking place near a forested area, where small bands of demons kept trying to break through Heaven’s defenses in rabid but disorganized waves.
Were their objective to simply wreak havoc, Fenn might have suggested they circled around and destroyed the defenses keeping the demons at bay, leading them deeper into enemy territory. He frowned. Perhaps not. The streets and buildings would force the demons into funnels from which the enemy may whittle them down with projectile fire from atop the roofs. The angels were too well entrenched for a single assault to fold their entire defense. It was fortunate, then, that their actual objective was to eliminate but one of them.
“What are your thoughts, Imp?” he asked.
Lily gazed across what amounted to a battlefield, her eyes analytical and bereft of any of her usual playfulness. “Going by air is out of the question. I might be able to carry you, but I’ll be slow and prone to attack. We’d be dead within minutes. Going by ground is about the only option we have.” Her gaze swept towards line of angels holding the demons at bay. “I can create an opening for the demons to exploit, possibly break the line, and create a bit of confusion. We should be able to use that to our advantage and, despite your size, make our way to wherever their commander is.”
She had seen what he had seen, but perhaps not seen enough. “We have the advantage in that they do not know where we’re coming from, Imp. You would go where they expect resistance?” he hummed, a sound like crumbling rock. “Those angels are already engaged. No need to draw them towards us as well.”
“You underestimate my abilities to remain covert, but I see what you mean.” She played with a lock of her fiery hair, saying nothing for a while. “What would you have us do? Your size makes avoiding large confrontations unlikely,” she spoke at length.
The dog shrugged. “Leading is your responsibility, Imp.”
"I feel like you're testing me."
"Leadership is ever a test."
“Be that as it may, I am still asking you.”
The dog grunted. “You already stated the crux of the issue. I cannot avoid confrontation. The question thus is this: Do we move forward, eliminating all resistance before more can converge on our location, or does one of us cause havoc while the other slips through their defenses? The decision may come down to whether you prefer both of us to be present for a confrontation with the target.”
“I would prefer we stay together. I do not doubt your, or my own, strength, but this is still an angelic general we have to deal with, and I would not be surprised if the pompous bastards up above are sending their own covert reinforcements.” She hummed, watching one of the airborne angels intently for a moment. “I also doubt I can disguise myself well enough to simply slip past everything and get close enough to take down their general. I think our best choice is to simply eradicate all opposition, and move towards our goal. Regardless of everything, we are a force to be reckoned with, and they will likely have to—”
Fenn let out an amused snort. “Just state your orders, Warleader.”
The demoness actually chuckled at that, a sound both alien and familiar from her. “Warleader, really?” She gave him a wicked grin. “Very well, then—” her form shifted; legs breaking into digitigrades, ending in clawed paws with sand-coloured fur creeping up to her knees. A tail sprouted from behind her, as her pupils turned to slits and her ears moved up, becoming those of a feline. All the while her clothes tightened across her body, a result of her now more pronounced muscles “—Let us get started.”
With that, the pair jumped down to the streets below.
He despised the feeling, particularly when he thought of the circumstances behind his presence there. When he had told Lily about the watchers, he had hoped to hint at a warning. The watchers would monitor all within their domain, but there was a difference between her and all other agents the Council had recruited.
She had an agent of her own.
Fenn was unbranded, something he was convinced to have some hidden significance. As it stood, he was little more than a guest. Worse, he was a guest’s guest, allowed to remain solely on the condition that he proved useful. He was lower than the watchers in that regard, in the idea that he may have retained a larger measure of freedom than all others, and his actions would be monitored closely. Worse, any suspicions that fell on him would fall on Lily as well. Explicit betrayal may not be needed to make the Council act against them, and who better to give the task of purging dangerous elements than the lowly, ubiquitous servants? If that came to pass, he and Lily would be targeted first, the dog suspected.
There was also the possibility that he was being paranoid and the lead Watcher saw him as little more than a brainless savage, unworthy of concern, but complacency had rarely done much to assure Fenn’s survival.
One way or another, the demoness had not seemed to understand the larger implications of their circumstances. Or perhaps she understood all too well and had simply refused to say as much. Such a thing was not speculation they needed their keepers hearing.
The dog grimaced. He detested games of intrigue. That he had participated in such a thing before had no bearing. He hated them then, and hated them now, and participation only ever seemed to bring misery to all involved. Completely haphazardly. Another reason to be relieved at their new surroundings. The violence and aggression in a battle were raw and clear. All those involved knew that by the end of the day there would be the taste of blood in their mouths – if they remained to taste it, that was.
He could spy numerous angels from their position, patrolling the inner perimeter. The Army of Light dominated the city’s skyline, while numerous patrols of more bestial angels dotted the streets, their movements given away by the light reflecting off their armor and trinkets. Most of the fighting was currently taking place near a forested area, where small bands of demons kept trying to break through Heaven’s defenses in rabid but disorganized waves.
Were their objective to simply wreak havoc, Fenn might have suggested they circled around and destroyed the defenses keeping the demons at bay, leading them deeper into enemy territory. He frowned. Perhaps not. The streets and buildings would force the demons into funnels from which the enemy may whittle them down with projectile fire from atop the roofs. The angels were too well entrenched for a single assault to fold their entire defense. It was fortunate, then, that their actual objective was to eliminate but one of them.
“What are your thoughts, Imp?” he asked.
Lily gazed across what amounted to a battlefield, her eyes analytical and bereft of any of her usual playfulness. “Going by air is out of the question. I might be able to carry you, but I’ll be slow and prone to attack. We’d be dead within minutes. Going by ground is about the only option we have.” Her gaze swept towards line of angels holding the demons at bay. “I can create an opening for the demons to exploit, possibly break the line, and create a bit of confusion. We should be able to use that to our advantage and, despite your size, make our way to wherever their commander is.”
She had seen what he had seen, but perhaps not seen enough. “We have the advantage in that they do not know where we’re coming from, Imp. You would go where they expect resistance?” he hummed, a sound like crumbling rock. “Those angels are already engaged. No need to draw them towards us as well.”
“You underestimate my abilities to remain covert, but I see what you mean.” She played with a lock of her fiery hair, saying nothing for a while. “What would you have us do? Your size makes avoiding large confrontations unlikely,” she spoke at length.
The dog shrugged. “Leading is your responsibility, Imp.”
"I feel like you're testing me."
"Leadership is ever a test."
“Be that as it may, I am still asking you.”
The dog grunted. “You already stated the crux of the issue. I cannot avoid confrontation. The question thus is this: Do we move forward, eliminating all resistance before more can converge on our location, or does one of us cause havoc while the other slips through their defenses? The decision may come down to whether you prefer both of us to be present for a confrontation with the target.”
“I would prefer we stay together. I do not doubt your, or my own, strength, but this is still an angelic general we have to deal with, and I would not be surprised if the pompous bastards up above are sending their own covert reinforcements.” She hummed, watching one of the airborne angels intently for a moment. “I also doubt I can disguise myself well enough to simply slip past everything and get close enough to take down their general. I think our best choice is to simply eradicate all opposition, and move towards our goal. Regardless of everything, we are a force to be reckoned with, and they will likely have to—”
Fenn let out an amused snort. “Just state your orders, Warleader.”
The demoness actually chuckled at that, a sound both alien and familiar from her. “Warleader, really?” She gave him a wicked grin. “Very well, then—” her form shifted; legs breaking into digitigrades, ending in clawed paws with sand-coloured fur creeping up to her knees. A tail sprouted from behind her, as her pupils turned to slits and her ears moved up, becoming those of a feline. All the while her clothes tightened across her body, a result of her now more pronounced muscles “—Let us get started.”
With that, the pair jumped down to the streets below.
Fenn, Lily and Mary appeared at the Council’s chamber with a snarled curse and a watcher’s reedy laughter to announce his entrance. Fenn found the source of the aggravating noise and immediately lashed out with a large arm.
The watcher danced back as if expecting the blow – and it likely had. The thing probably invited such assaults on its person daily. “Careful, mutt. You stand in the presence of your betters. You better tuck your tail between your legs before your luck runs out.” With that, the thing retreated into the ranks.
Fenn was tempted to pursue. He did not know if whatever protection had been afforded to the demon ceased within this realm. It very well might have, judging from the fact that it had bothered avoiding his attack, but the gesture may very well have been another taunt. He managed to restrain himself, glaring out at the retreating figure. Even if he could not tell one watcher apart from another, that was a scent he would remember.
After a moment, the demon allowed himself to study his surroundings. The molten landscape and comfortable heat brought back memories of older times, a nostalgia Fenn would have dwelt on in other circumstances. In the safe confines of his mind, sentimentality was a trap the old demon allowed himself to fall into occasionally, but it had no room there. The three demonic visages carved into rock and the alien pressure exuding from them assured him of that.
As expected from the watcher’s words, others had been summoned along with them. He remembered most of them from the seal’s cavern, though there were a few others as well. Observers, much as him and Lily had been? Perhaps.
The Council’s voice echoed through the cavern. The dog found his jaw setting, his frown narrowing into a scowl. Already there were others voicing their agreement or dissent – and why would they hesitate? The Imp herself had set out to ask about rewards, like a haggler in the marketplace.
Here was one of the oldest powers of the universe offering to aid them in doing something most had chosen to do on their own. Not offering. Asserting authority. Yet, their command, the threat used was… empty. Eventual annihilation? Everything faced that in time. Some of those gathered in this place would be dead come the next century simply due to natural causes, and the two demons’ existence had ever been one perched on the edge of doom. There was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind, that the choice offered to those present held a hidden edge, something that only doubled as he saw the lead watcher marking some of the other’s foreheads.
It was difficult doubting the power held by the molten statues, but could the same be said about their influence in the current proceedings?
Another glance at those present let him reorganize his thoughts. Everyone in the chamber had been present in the conflict in the tunnels, but perhaps the idea that everyone involved in the conflict in the tunnels (barring hell’s recruiter, the white haired half demon and the snake – though then again those could not truly be considered outcasts to their cause, could they?) was present in the chamber, being given this choice, was the more poignant thought.
Where had been the Council’s forces? The lead watcher claimed their most powerful enforcers would not set foot on Earth unless they meant to destroy it, but the idea struck him as absurd. It left the Council powerless over whatever happened in that realm. It left the seals at the mercy of whoever found them. Unless they found those who gathered to protect them, and made them their own. Suddenly, the Council had gained new enforcers, and the chance to influence events on Earth. Was that all this was? A power game hidden behind a noble cause?
The answer given by the lead watcher, prompted by the heads of the Charred Council, seemed to confirm his suspicion. ‘As long as you remain in our favor’ was a pleasant manner of saying, ‘as long as you serve’. All the services this Council would be able to provide demanded a commitment far beyond the protection of the seals.
Fenn found the idea of submitting himself in servitude to beings that had bowed their heads in favor of an imagined notion of cosmic balance almost physically repulsive. This would be a master that would survive him, and abnegate everything he had learned throughout his life. It would not be a reason to be. It would be a slow death.
Damn him, this would not be the first time his pride led him to perilous waters for no good reason.
“I have proffered my allegiance once today. I shall do so no more,” Fenn spoke, his gravelly voice carrying well in the chamber’s interior, as though he was used to entertaining audiences.
The dog shook his head slowly, then gestured at Lily. He had to ignore the irony burgeoning in his mind that, were it not for her, he would have participated in the seal’s destruction. Perhaps this meeting would not have come to pass if he had simply tried to gut her where she stood in the tunnels. “My duty is to this one. Should she choose in your favor, I shall aid her, but that will be the extent of my commitment.” He directed a scowl at the lead watcher. He had been tracking him, as well as motion from the other specters around him out of the corners of his eyes. The dog’s ears were propped and alert. “Know that if you or any of yours seek to brand me, Watcher, I will take an arm in exchange.”
The watcher danced back as if expecting the blow – and it likely had. The thing probably invited such assaults on its person daily. “Careful, mutt. You stand in the presence of your betters. You better tuck your tail between your legs before your luck runs out.” With that, the thing retreated into the ranks.
Fenn was tempted to pursue. He did not know if whatever protection had been afforded to the demon ceased within this realm. It very well might have, judging from the fact that it had bothered avoiding his attack, but the gesture may very well have been another taunt. He managed to restrain himself, glaring out at the retreating figure. Even if he could not tell one watcher apart from another, that was a scent he would remember.
After a moment, the demon allowed himself to study his surroundings. The molten landscape and comfortable heat brought back memories of older times, a nostalgia Fenn would have dwelt on in other circumstances. In the safe confines of his mind, sentimentality was a trap the old demon allowed himself to fall into occasionally, but it had no room there. The three demonic visages carved into rock and the alien pressure exuding from them assured him of that.
As expected from the watcher’s words, others had been summoned along with them. He remembered most of them from the seal’s cavern, though there were a few others as well. Observers, much as him and Lily had been? Perhaps.
The Council’s voice echoed through the cavern. The dog found his jaw setting, his frown narrowing into a scowl. Already there were others voicing their agreement or dissent – and why would they hesitate? The Imp herself had set out to ask about rewards, like a haggler in the marketplace.
Here was one of the oldest powers of the universe offering to aid them in doing something most had chosen to do on their own. Not offering. Asserting authority. Yet, their command, the threat used was… empty. Eventual annihilation? Everything faced that in time. Some of those gathered in this place would be dead come the next century simply due to natural causes, and the two demons’ existence had ever been one perched on the edge of doom. There was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind, that the choice offered to those present held a hidden edge, something that only doubled as he saw the lead watcher marking some of the other’s foreheads.
It was difficult doubting the power held by the molten statues, but could the same be said about their influence in the current proceedings?
Another glance at those present let him reorganize his thoughts. Everyone in the chamber had been present in the conflict in the tunnels, but perhaps the idea that everyone involved in the conflict in the tunnels (barring hell’s recruiter, the white haired half demon and the snake – though then again those could not truly be considered outcasts to their cause, could they?) was present in the chamber, being given this choice, was the more poignant thought.
Where had been the Council’s forces? The lead watcher claimed their most powerful enforcers would not set foot on Earth unless they meant to destroy it, but the idea struck him as absurd. It left the Council powerless over whatever happened in that realm. It left the seals at the mercy of whoever found them. Unless they found those who gathered to protect them, and made them their own. Suddenly, the Council had gained new enforcers, and the chance to influence events on Earth. Was that all this was? A power game hidden behind a noble cause?
The answer given by the lead watcher, prompted by the heads of the Charred Council, seemed to confirm his suspicion. ‘As long as you remain in our favor’ was a pleasant manner of saying, ‘as long as you serve’. All the services this Council would be able to provide demanded a commitment far beyond the protection of the seals.
Fenn found the idea of submitting himself in servitude to beings that had bowed their heads in favor of an imagined notion of cosmic balance almost physically repulsive. This would be a master that would survive him, and abnegate everything he had learned throughout his life. It would not be a reason to be. It would be a slow death.
Damn him, this would not be the first time his pride led him to perilous waters for no good reason.
“I have proffered my allegiance once today. I shall do so no more,” Fenn spoke, his gravelly voice carrying well in the chamber’s interior, as though he was used to entertaining audiences.
The dog shook his head slowly, then gestured at Lily. He had to ignore the irony burgeoning in his mind that, were it not for her, he would have participated in the seal’s destruction. Perhaps this meeting would not have come to pass if he had simply tried to gut her where she stood in the tunnels. “My duty is to this one. Should she choose in your favor, I shall aid her, but that will be the extent of my commitment.” He directed a scowl at the lead watcher. He had been tracking him, as well as motion from the other specters around him out of the corners of his eyes. The dog’s ears were propped and alert. “Know that if you or any of yours seek to brand me, Watcher, I will take an arm in exchange.”
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