“Just another part of what makes me so charming,” said Thunderclese.
“I liked you better when you were afraid of me.”
“Quiet, you two,” Vlishgnath suddenly interrupted.
Maximus, still in his full plate, slumped down on a rock with a metallic clunk, exchanging a glance with Thunderclese before looking back to Vlishgnath. “What’s wrong?”
Again, Vlishgnath shook his head, listening for a moment before answering. “Someone is listening to us.”
Maximus looked to Thunderclese, who shrugged in confusion, then turned back to Vlishgnath. “What is it?”
“I can’t say, but they’re very good at staying hidden.”
Maximus let out a low growl. “Shall we hunt them down?”
Vlishgnath sighed, looked to the giant man, and smiled. “I’m afraid we would never find them, my friend. It was only by chance that I heard them to begin with, and I imagine they will be gone already by the time I finish speaking.”
Maximus let out another prolonged grumble.
“Perhaps it was one of the townsfolk?” offered Thunderclese.
Vlishgnath shook his head again. “I doubt it. If things are as bad as they sound in Grisbane’s report, he’s likely got survivors barricaded in the church by now. You were there, Thunderclese, tell me…what was it like?”
Thunderclese’s expression turned pensive, his tone taking on an almost mourning quality.
“People were starving. The ones that weren’t mad with fear said they hadn’t been able to grow anything for months. People who went out at night often disappeared, and Baron LeFay sat idle while the people continued to suffer.”
“Did anyone make contact with the Baron?”
Thunderclese shook his head and said, “No. Our main priority was to secure the town and ensure the safety of its people.”
Vlishgnath nodded slowly, then drew in a heavy breath and stood from his stump. “Well, gentlemen…I suggest you get some rest. We’ll reach Drenton midday tomorrow, and I doubt we’ll be receiving a hero’s welcome.”
Episode 3
As the small village of Drenton came into view, it was clear something had gone horribly wrong. Small, rustic dwellings that had likely sat upon lush, emerald-green grass now sat mired in mud, rainclouds blocking out the sun and precipitating lightly to perpetuate the oppressive feeling that emanated from the area. The four men stopped for a moment to behold the disheartening scene.
Thunderclese came up to stop next to Vlishgnath. “It wasn’t nearly this bad when I left…”
Vlishgnath nodded in acknowledgement, speaking in the cold commanding tone of a military commander. “Helmets on!”
Without hesitation, Thunderclese and Euronymus donned their headwear, while Vlishgnath did the same. Maximus, as always, was already in his full plate.
“Thunderclese, lead us to the church.”
Thunderclese nodded, and they slowly began making their way into the village. The streets were slick with rain, and most of the houses appeared abandoned. Signs of livestock being hastily slaughtered were present, and a good number of farm tools appeared as if they had been dismantled for parts. The only building made of stone was the church, which sat in the center of town and had been commissioned by the main cathedral in Ascention. It was purposely built large; in times of crisis, it could serve as a bunker for reinforcements and, in times of war, as a military foothold.
Vlishgnath, Maximus, and Euronymus continued following Thunderclese towards the building, until Thunderclese suddenly pointed and cried out, “Look!”
Vlishgnath turned his gaze just in time to spot what appeared to be a figure made from shadow disappearing around a corner at the end of a small path between two houses.
“Dismount!” Vlishgnath ordered, who slid from his horse with a natural litheness—the same grace absent in the way Thunderclese and Euronymus climbed down from their mounts, while Maximus stood from his cart and jumped down to the ground with a thud. “Shields at the ready!”
As the others stood on guard, Vlishgnath signaled silently for Thunderclese to follow, who responded in turn and fell in next to him. As they cautiously approached the corner of the house the shadow suddenly lunged forward from its hiding spot and dove straight through Thunderclese, continuing on through him and diving underneath the supply cart.
Thunderclese fell to one knee, dropping his shield from his left hand to support himself on the ground while he lifted his helmet from his head with his right, retching uncontrollably.
Vlishgnath stepped over to Thunderclese quickly, placing a hand on his shoulder and offering a quick prayer to Mithos. After a moment, his hand in contact with Thunderclese glowed brightly, and Thunderclese’s color returned.
Thunderclese spit on the ground one final time before standing up. “Well that’s new.”
“Silence!” was Vlishgnath’s harsh response, for at that moment, Euronymus was fixated upon the supply cart where the shadow had disappeared.
The tall, grizzled cleric slowly drew his mace in his right hand and reached out with his left as he cautiously approached the cart. A hissing sound came from underneath, and in an instant several things occurred.
The area suddenly became dead silent. All color drained from the world, and the pressure rose so great that the others could feel their ears pop. A sickening, unnatural nausea washed over them all in waves, and, as if in slow motion, the form of a grotesque, purple humanoid with bat-like facial features and sinister red eyes began its desperate attempt to scamper out from underneath the cart.
Euronymus, who seemed able to move at somewhat quicker speed, reached down and grasped the creature by the throat, lifting it up off the ground and holding it out at full arm’s length. Then, as if being jolted back into reality from a nightmare, color collapsed in on the black and white bubble they had inhabited and the pressure dropped.
Events unfolded at normal speed, Euronymus still holding onto the demon he had just snatched from the ethereal plane. The creature clawed wildly and frantically at him, snarling obscenities in the abyssal tongue and spitting at him, its claws leaving jagged marks in Euronymus’ black steel armor.
The three paladins watched on in a reverent fascination as Euronymus slowly made a sign of blessing, then raised his mace up high and brought it down upon the head of the demon, smashing its skull in. Yet still, it continued to struggle, no longer able to swear and spit, but rending and clawing with all of its strength at whatever part of the cleric it could reach. Several times Euronymus raised his mace in the air, bringing the brutal bludgeoning instrument down upon the demon’s head until the ground had been spattered with the black ichor that ran through the creature’s veins. Pieces of its skull and flesh sat in pools of blackness around Euronymus’ feet, while bits of the demon slid down the front of his plate mail.
Once the headless figure had quivered its last motion and gone still, Euronymus tossed it to the side like a rag doll. He then turned and reached out, pointing his open palm at the remains. After a moment, a divine white pillar of flame sprang forth from the ground underneath the corpse, burning bright and pure as it reduced what was left of the demon to ash.
“What in the abyss was that?!” came Thunderclese’s abrupt exclamation, breaking the shocked moment or two of silence that had followed the event.
“Hah! Next time, save me one!”
Maximus walked over, stamping down the demon ashes before turning to nod his approval to Vlishgnath.
Vlishgnath, however, was not so elated, for even as they spoke, he could already feel