The demon’s iron grip closed around the halfling, crushing his lungs and stifling his scream of agony. Turning to face the remaining invaders of its profane temple, it tossed the tiny, limp form over its shoulder where it landed beside the charred remains of one comrade and betwixt the sundered limbs of another.
Now only two remained – a wizard and a warrior. A wicked grin full of sharp teeth split a face that might have been disturbingly handsome, had it not been covered in gore. A voice as smooth as silk and sweet as honey drifted forth as it took a step forward.
“Poor insects, you’ve rushed headlong to your deaths. But it need not be so. Bow to me, and be spared; worship me, and be filled with power beyond comprehension.”
“Never trust a demon!” Brogan spat and raised his enchanted sword before him. While the sword was capable of wounding the demon, it could not kill him. Behind him, the wizard Zuric worked feverishly to complete the ritual that would finally banish the demon back to the foul pit from which it had crawled and free the kingdom from the corrupting influence it had spread and drawn power from.
“How much longer, wizard?” The warrior called over his shoulder. He feinted to the right and suddenly reversed direction. As the demon raked the empty air where his head was a split-second before, he drew from it an inhuman scream of pain and anger along with the slash he landed on its left side. A kick from the demon sent him flying backwards, nearly taking out the wizard and ruining the ritual on which they had placed any hope of victory. The warrior crashed into a stone pillar, stars exploding across his field of vision as his head struck the hard granite.
“Fool!” The demon stopped and looked down at the gash, one that would have killed a mortal man. It was already beginning to mend. “You cannot deny the inevitable. I have ruled the infernal realms and now I will rule this world!”
Brogan crawled to the sword he had dropped and staggered to his weary feet, dizzy and sore. He managed to shake off enough of the daze he was in to see that the demon had now taken an interest in Zauric, kneeling directly between them and chanting from the mysterious scroll he had picked up during their investigation of the demon and his growing influence. The sounds his friend were making were gibberish to his admittedly uneducated ears, but seemed to alarm the demon, now that the din of battle had lessened and he could hear them.
“WHERE DID YOU GET THAT!?” it roared and started to lean into a charge against the defenseless wizard. Brogan, his world still spinning, managed to get a couple of steps in before launching himself at the rushing demon. The armor he wore gave him just enough weight and momentum to carry his much larger, heavier opponent wide of his target. They tumbled to the bloodstained floor, a tangle of limbs and talons. Finally getting his bearings, Brogan was horrified to discover that the demon had ended up on top of him. He struggled to bring his weapon up, only to have his sword arm pinned under a large bony knee. The demon, leering evilly, wrapped his hands around the warrior’s helmet and ignited them. The hardened warrior started to scream as the metal heated.
The demon’s leer suddenly turned to a look of shock. The fire left its hands as it began to seize violently. His helmet still trapped in the demon’s unholy clutches, Brogan managed to squirm out of it and out from under the rigid, twitching form of his foe. Tendrils of brilliant white light lanced into the body of the demon from a crystal held by the unflappable Zauric.
“Now, while the demon is bound – strike!”
Brogan raised his sword over his head, “Back to fires of hell, monster.”
To his shock, the demon managed a tiny agonized smile, the smallest of movements a struggle. “Ignorant fools,” it spat. The sword descended, splitting the demon’s horned skull right down the middle. A high keening wail echoed in the chamber. The crystal held by the wizard flared once and exploded, knocking the two heroes off their feet. They were dimly aware of a rushing wind and the odor of brimstone and burning flesh which lasted but a moment. By the time they were upright and oriented, it was over.
There, like a statue out of some twisted sculptor’s nightmare, knelt the grey, lifeless form of the demon, still clutching Brogan’s scorched helmet, his sword embedded in its skull. As they watched, the figure began to break and collapse in on itself. Soon it was nothing more than a pile of ashes.
Brogan retried his sword and helmet and made his way to a pile of rubble, setting himself down on one of the larger pieces.
“Blasted demons,” he spat. “Be sure and thank whoever it is gave that spell, ‘Ric”
Zauric surveyed the scene as one who had just woken up from a dream, his face scratched and bleeding in several places where fragments of the exploding crystal had struck him, “I’m not eager to see them again, or ever.”
Brogan, having taken a scrap of clothing from one of the cultists who had come between his party and the demon, began to clean his sword. “Why? Was it stolen?”
“Not stolen. The individual who provided the ritual was a former acquaintance of our vanquished foe.”
The warrior looked up, “You mean a cultist? Or . . . ?”
Zauric turned to his remaining companion. “It was a demon, Brogan. To kill a demon, I summoned a demon.”
“Oh ‘Ric, you can’t trust those things! It might have just as easily given you a spell to open up an infernal portal or some such!”
The wizard shook his head, “No, you see, Mnemysyx was banished here by his own kind. Once upon a time, he tried to conquer the infernal realms – nearly succeeded, too. The other demon lords banded together and overthrew him. No, he has few – if any – friends back home. Besides, from what I studied of the ritual, there were clearly binding elements to it. You don’t use those for portals. Shame about the crystal, though. I would have liked to keep it.”
Brogan shook the soot from his helmet and inspected it. He placed it on his head. It was still warm – which unnerved him a little, after nearly having his brain boiled inside it – but undamaged, aside from a few minor scorch marks. He exhaled. Having purchased his armor as a matching set after their last adventure, he was loathe to replace even a single part of it. As he looked around the room, he realized that he could see into even the deepest shadows – and there were many shadows in the foul temple – as if the sun was falling directly upon them.
“Hey Zauric, I think that spell enchanted my helmet! I can see in the shadows!”
“A fortuitous side-effect of the ritual. Some of the demon’s abilities may have been transferred into the items it was in contact with. Such effects often dissipate over time, however, so don’t get too attached.” Zauric walked over to the remains of their companions and sighed. “Tiff just needs a visit to the temple; Kent and Jaquio, on the other hand, will need some more work. Let’s load them up and get our reward.”
A sudden shove and a burning sensation began to spread through the wizard’s body. He looked down to see the tip of an enchanted sword sticking out of his chest.
“I think not,” the voice of his longtime friend, smooth as silk and sweet as honey, whispered in his ear, “you see, there was only one survivor of the epic battle with mighty Mnemesyx – and it isn’t you. Sadly, the rest of the party was beyond saving.”
Zauric managed to stagger around to face his betrayer. “H-how?”
The warrior sneered, “Ignorant wizard, those accursed weaklings went to such great effort to kick me out, what made you think they’d help send me back?”
Brogan withdrew the sword from the wizard and wiped it clean on his robes before turning to walk away. As he sank to the floor to join the bodies of his friends, the last thing Zauric heard was, “Never trust a demon.”
[reus id="5675" meta=""]
