-Inquisitor Benavidez-

He had felt the surge of magic and as he’d approached the garrison he’d witnessed the soldiers starting to scramble like an anthill that had just been kicked. Panic was starting to settle before he had had so much as a chance to step into the fortification.

“ATTENTION!” He roared, bringing every single Church soldier in sight to a complete stand-still.

The massive gauntlet-wearing hand was raised and he pointed a finger towards one of the soldiers. “You, what’s happening?”

“The demon and the blood-mage escaped.”

Of course they had. Benavidez’s feeling of unease hadn’t really gone away ever since the conversation and this would certainly explain why. Had they planned it? How had they managed to escape? The shackles were working correctly when he’d come, so why now?

It didn’t matter at the moment. “How?” His single word was a growl that caused the soldier to pale.

“The anti-tampering ward went off, the whole cell collapsed immediately after.”

So it was someone from the outside that had somehow dug their way into the correct cell. Someone able to see through the privacy wards? That meant a powerful mage besides the demon. “They’re in the ruins. Call for the captain and tell her to prepare whatever she can to fight against a low-demon and a high-mage as well as a blood-mage. You!” He pointed at another soldier as the first ran off. “Send orders to the royal guards to post men on every known exit and entry point to the ruins. You.” A heartbeat, and the man ran, the finger pointed to the next available soldier. “Only the bare minimum of men are to be left in the garrison. Everyone else is to spread out through the city in squads of four. Orders are to call out potential breaches into the ruins and converge. Priority is stalling and calling for help.” Sending him off, the hand then gesture towards the last one. “Gather fifteen men and bring them here. Ones familiar with pikes or bows or both. I will lead them personally.”

As the third ran, Benavidez considered for a moment what would be the next step to take. What would he do were he the demon and the mage? They’d certainly seek for their first exit out of the ruins and attempt to blend into the city, probably wait until things had calmed down and sneak out, but…

His thoughts drifted towards the blood-mage. What would that human do? Would he call for the dragon-whelp were the Church to corner him? Or would there be something else in his mind?

The Inquisitor pushed such needless thoughts away. This was no time to dawdle, he had a hunt to carry out.

Pulling his sword from its scabbard, he confirmed it still had traces of blood from the wound he’d inflicted on the human.

He began to cast a spell while he waited for the soldiers he asked for to gather. Carefully, the Inquisitor removed his right glove and nicked his finger, allowing the red droplet to pool on the flat of the blade before he put the gauntlet back on. With a muttering of his voice, the drop flattened and spread across the whole of the blade turning the silver metal red.

Then the blade vibrated. Slowly, he turned the tip of the blade towards his right and the vibration slowed. Moving it towards the left, the vibration began to intensify.

“This way.” He commanded as he began to walk in the direction the blade’s tip pointed to.

No one escaped him.

Especially not that blood-mage.

-Blaire-

She couldn’t get Arwen out, nor could she realistically approach the demons and expect to live. Not to mention she really didn’t want to get involved with the demons.

Blaire had absolutely no intention of getting involved with the demons.

There were hopes that the demon’s plans were to release one of their own, which made sense the more she thought about it, by what little she’d learnt they’d been planning this before Arwen was captured. Which meant she would only need to use the distraction they’d pose to the Church soldiers as a means to ensure her own partner could escape.

Easier said than done, however.

Again she stood near the crumbled buildings watching the guards and the garrison, again she felt a sense of powerlessness welling within her chest. What was she to do against armed and trained soldiers? What could she do in such a situation? It was a frustrating sensation that no matter what she tried, it would be futile. Would it be best to just lay in wait until the demons made a move and try slipping in then?

She wasn’t too sure of her odds. Or more like she was too sure.

It was from this vantage point of observation that she saw when the soldiers began to panic, frantic like headless chicken. Something had definitely happened, but what? Then came the massive monster of armoured steel, and with a booming voice he had given order to the chaos.

“They’re in the ruins.” Blaire’s heart skipped a beat at the thought, was he talking about Arwen? Or was this an act from the demons? Would she be best infiltrating the garrison now while they were distracted?

No, whatever it was, this was a chance.

If she could get to the ruins first…

Locking sights on to the soldier that had been ordered to blockade the exits, Blaire’s head began to concoct a plan. If it’s just one soldier then she had a chance, and if she could ensure one exit from the ruins was devoid of protection… then it wouldn’t be impossible for her to lead Arwen to escape through that unprotected spot.

Her steps were fast, as fast as she could go, in fact, because the soldier was also moving as quickly as he could. She’d have cared about not being spotted and hiding better between the buildings if not because her short legs required her to go at a dead sprint to keep the pace.

It was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened, the distance between them grew too far, and she couldn’t keep up.

Panting, she leaned against the wall, cursing that of all the soldiers that had been sent with an urgent message, it had been a long-legged human. She just wasn’t built to run that much, already she could barely breathe. Her mind used the time to review the route they’d been following and the possible directions within the city it could lead to. How many places were there with soldiers or where soldiers gathered that the Church warrior would be going to?

Blaire didn’t know this part of Hightower well enough to have a definite answer other than ‘there are no stables in this part of the city’.

A silent curse to Dunir for having made her so short and poorly prepared for running on land was hastily mentally followed with an apology and a petition for aid. Had he not made the dwarves for exploring? Then this ought to be right up his alley, she’d never been very pious, but right now she desperately needed to find something amongst the current unknown before her else she’d lose the strange friend that had shown her the taste of freedom.

“Please.” She muttered under her breath, closing her eyes in prayer. A part of her knew there was a ‘proper’ way to pray to Dunir, but she’d never really had a chance to learn it throughout her years of slavery.

The crack of a whip snapped her eyes open, a shock of fear, a twinge of worry; the feeling hammered against her mind instinctively and, for a split second, she worried she’d been found by Cu. But the crack was not meant for her, the person wielding the short whip was not even looking her way.

It was then that it clicked that she was surrounded by half-torn houses, wreckages burnt beyond repair being taken down by dozens of what she instantly recognized as slaves. Most wore chains in their ankles preventing them from running or moving very quickly, others wore collars that kept them chained to single locations from where they’d distribute water, or food, or tools. The dwarf’s eyes widened as she saw this, the torn and tattered clothes, the bruised exposed skin, the welts and cuts.

And the five men wielding short whips along with a short sword at their hip.

Something within her chest tightened greatly at this sight, her lips curled and a worryingly deep dread welled within her. How had she not noticed the slaves until now? She’d barely even paid them any attention, and now…

Her eyes wandered from the five men to the nearly two dozen slaves, then she gazed towards where the soldier had run off to, too fast for her to follow.

From the very start it had been clear she couldn’t do this alone, that hoping for anything but a single lucky strike before she was cut down would be the best option available to her.

But now, as she looked at the slaves, she realized.

The dagger Arwen had dropped along with his belongings before attempting to run from the Church men felt heavy on her hip. And the more she noticed its weight, the more her resolve began to grow. Her eyes wandered amongst the five men, one stood out for having the fancier clothes, the meaner look, and the more determined posture.

With a hand touching the weapon’s handle, the thoughts kept becoming stronger the more she mulled them over.

There was little time to be had, and she didn’t need to do everything on her own.

Not anymore.

-Uryuc-

Making his way through wilderness with two short-horses in tow had been, surprisingly, easier than he had originally anticipated. It was calm, quiet, and devoid of much things worth worrying over besides making sure the horses remained properly fed with some grazing.

Sure, the detour meant he’d have to spend far longer than he’d need to get to the bridge they’d agreed to meet at, but there wasn’t really much else to consider. There hadn’t been roaming guards he’d have to dodge, and the couple times his route had gotten him close to roads he’d just make sure the brands on the horses remained out of sight and he’d pull his hood down slightly further.

No one would bother him, ask questions, or demand answers.

Which had been rather nice.

“Hyah!” Uryuc screamed as he tried to get the short-horse to gallop faster, his red hair whipping with the win as the forest rushed past at either side of him.

Things weren’t so nice anymore.

He turned his head over his shoulder in an attempt to determine if they were closing in or not, turning back to look ahead a second too late.

The raised rope caught him square in the chest, all air was hammered out of him as the horse carried on without him. For a split second Uryuc felt himself floating by the sheer grace of the rope, but it didn’t last, and within the next blink he’d fallen flat on his back against the ground.

A heavy groan followed, his chest throbbed, his lungs were empty and struggling to suck in air, his back had gone completely stiff from the impact. Uryuc struggled to get back on his feet and draw his sword. A foot on his chest squarely pinned him back against the ground.

Whoever had done that had followed the gesture with a scream as Uryuc had managed to pull the short sword out of the scabbard and slashed at the man’s ankle. The half-elf was on his feet the moment after, holding his weapon tightly and glaring everywhere around him.

There were five plus the one he’d just cut, and no doubt the original pursuers would be here any second.

With no time to consider, he lunged at the one who stood between him and the path his horse had followed after he’d been knocked off. A savage downward slash forced the stocky man to step away giving Uryuc the opportunity to break into a full sprint towards his escape.

“Woah there fella.” The man had spoken, raising both of his empty hands.

Uryuc didn’t see the extended foot, and tripped face first against the dirt; the man he’d attempted to bypass stood besides him, an unsheathed blade pointed down at the red-head’s face. “Now now, how bout ye calm down a tad. Killing’s bad to yer soul ye know?”

He considered it for only a quick second before swinging backwards with the blade, slapping the other away and trying to scurry to his feet. “This one’s a fighter.” The short man laughed, his steps quick and precise as he kept the distance between himself and the half-tumbling Uryuc.

It was while transitioning from half-bent over to an attempted fully standing stance that Uryuc’s blade was slapped out of his grip. The half-elf froze at this and glared at the amused looking blonde human. “So now what, elf?” Came the taunt, the tip of the sword returning to threaten him with its metallic tip.

Glaring, the red-head growled and raised both his arms.

“Good, ye understand.” The blonde swordsman made a gesture with his free hand and one of the other bandits rushed over to pick up the sword.

Uryuc remained silent.

“No threats?” The taunt seemed curious, the man lazily keeping an eye on the half-elf before turning to one of the horses the other bandits had captured and brought over. “Ah, a thief, no wonder. Pinched some horses from a noble? Ye can also keep quiet bout it.”

That had been the choice he’d take, not uttering a word and instead willing the man to burst into flames by sheer glare alone.

“I did mean it when I said I’d rather not kill ye.” A cock-sure grin appeared on the man’s lips.

“I’m not being made a slave again.” Uryuc snarled, hands balled into fists.

“A friend of mine once said that a man with no freedom is a man who’s not alive.” Came the response with a slight shrug, shifting his focus to the others. “So?”

“Food, and nothing else.” They replied.

“Ah, so ye’ve got friends ye’re supposed to meet.” A hearty laugh followed the words, blue eyes glancing sharply at the half-elf’s hands. “So a smith were ye? We could use a smith.”

He didn’t care to ask how he’d known. “I’m not interested.”

That caused the man to cock his head sideways. “Ye sure? No horses and no food; whoever yer ‘friends’ are, they won’t be too happy bout it… if ye can even make it wherever ye’re to meet.”

Uryuc glared and slowly looked around, the number of bandits had increased, and though he could trust Arwen wouldn’t do something like attempt to kill him for having lost the horses and supplies, he could definitely not trust that turning down the blonde’s proposition would result in him being able to walk out of there alive.

-Blaire-

The man was turned away from her, wielding a whip as he screamed at one of the slaves. The man’s face was rugged, contorted into a deep scowl, yellowed teeth bared with a snarl. Words were being spoken, shouted, but they were deafened by Blaire’s heart.

BABUMP BABUMP

Hard, the beat of an explosion inside her chest, the sound so loud it should’ve been impossible for it to remain hidden.

BABUMP BABUMP

Her hand grasped the hilt of the knife, her throat constrained, eyes focusing on the man’s head.

BABUMP BABUMP

He wasn’t a stranger anymore, the image was replaced by that of a dwarf she’d known for many years. Pearly teeth flashed with an unconvincing gentle smile, eyes gleamed with desire.

BABUMP BABUMP

The scene played before her, his hand reaching for the hem of her dress, the smell of alcohol on his lips, the silky smoothness of her clothes, constraining, tightening around her.

The dagger was unsheathed.

BABUMP BABUMP

“Huh?” A simple turn of the head, a moment of confusion, a human looking back after having noticed the slaves looking at something behind him.

Sharp pain in his back, a silent gasp, air escaping leaving him with an abrupt inability to draw in breath.

BABUMP BABUMP

Twice, thrice, four, five times. Streams of crimson blood streaked the air every time the dagger returned to the flesh of the man’s body. The speed and force behind the gesture carried an unstoppable intent. His knees gave way underneath him and he collapsed face first against the dirt.

For only a moment he was able to see the face of his assailant. Breathless, the man’s eyes widened at the uncontained fury underneath the golden weave of hair. A feeble attempt to speak became fruitless, a gurgling sound followed blood streaming out of his lips. Silently he convulsed, trying to breathe but unable to, each heave filling his lungs further with blood.

The world began to darken for the man.

BABUMPBABUMPBABUMP

The beating was louder, faster, a dull roar in her ears. Blaire held the bloodied dagger looking down at the dying man. Her mind was blanked. All that was was the sound of her heart, the hardness of metal and the warmth of blood.

Then, clarity, panic, fear. She blinked when realization hit her. Nausea and bile crawled up her throat. She narrowly held it down even as she knelt next to the body and hastily pulled out the ring of keys for the slave’s locks.

BABUMPBABUMPBABUMPBABUMPBABUMPBABUMP

She couldn’t hear anything else. Her fingers were fumbling with the keys, eyes wide and desperate, brain trying to catch up with what she’d just done. “Ah…” The keys fell from her clumsy attempts to hold them tighter. Dimly she realized she hadn’t even known what her next step should’ve been. She looked around and could only see the startled slaves.

The young man that had been in the middle of a whipping was looking at her with wide, green, disbelieving eyes. More slaves like him had become stunned and gawked, the stillness drew the attention of the other handlers.

“Agh!” One of them screamed the moment a tall man had taken the moment of surprise to hit him in the back of the head with a large rock.

“Fight!” The bald man screamed finishing the man he’d attacked with the unstoppable force of the piece of debris falling down on his handler’s head for the last time.

Suddenly, every one of the slaves present stopped focusing on Blaire and instead turned their gazes towards the other handlers. The three handlers appeared to realize all too quickly that they were greatly outnumbered.

BABUMP

Blaire swallowed, grasping the dagger’s handle tightly as she dropped the keys to the green eyed man. Her eyes turned not towards the handlers but towards the direction the soldier had run with his orders. Could she stop him now?

Her eyes caught the sight of the last handler failing his escape attempt, how his screams were abruptly cut short with a wet squelch. Instantly, she knew she wouldn’t be able to control them. They didn’t know her, they didn’t owe anything to her besides the death of the first handler.

Blaire’s mind raced. How could she take control of the situation? Her thoughts turned to Arwen’s escape. What would he do now? How had he managed to keep her and Uryuc travelling together? Why had she stayed with them since escaping and despite being given the option to leave?

BABUPMBABUMPBABUMP

Determination.

“Listen!” She shouted drawing everyone’s attention. The slaves turned towards her even as they were quickly moving to remove their shackles and chains with the keys stolen from the handlers. “If you run away now, you will die.”

Her words had their intended effect, most of the slaves became pale. She didn’t stop however. “If you wish to live, then you must free the other slaves.”

Turmoil, doubt, hesitation. They shared worried glances and doubtful words. But they knew. They knew all too well they’d crossed a line, they couldn’t turn back. Running now would mean getting an arrow or a sword to their back… if they were lucky and didn’t get caught and made an example of.

Blaire inwardly felt a growing sense of helplessness. Had she done the right thing? Could this help her get Arwen from the clutches of the Church? A silent prayer begged the Gods to protect him.

-????-

Waiting had been torture for him. The constraints of the illusion allowed him to keep the appearance of a human, his own magic was kept in check, and with every passing second he wished more and more to pool his magic and use it to attack the humans around him.

But he couldn’t, he musnt. He had to hurry and he had to wait. He had to hurry and tell the others that the Captain was attempting an escape right now and needed their help. But he had to pretend to be a human to not let them know the Captain had help remaining in the city, let them think he was alone. As much as it pained him with every passing second he didn’t start sprinting towards his companions. He knew slipping up now would result in everyone’s deaths.

The inside of his cheek bled from his teeth gnashing on the flesh as he bowed his head and obeyed orders. There was a growing tension in his shoulders as he ran around like some lowlife slave gathering equipment for the Church soldiers. And every passing second his eyes darted this way and that. He had to look for a way out, had to look for an opportunity, had to somehow get out of there.

Then he saw it. A soldier seeming half lost and dazed. The look in his eyes a clear sign that he’d been asleep not that long ago and whose mind had not the discipline or urgency to have blown the cobwebs away. The faux-human knew he’d heard the other’s name being spoken at some point but he’d never put in the effort to remember it. “You.” He spoke, handing over a sheathed sword. “The Captain ordered us to head towards the East wall.”

“Huh, wha?” Confusion as he took the blade and nodded half-sure of the certainty of the order. “What are we doing over there?”

“Deliver orders.” An urgent reply quickening of their steps. The dumb human was close on his heels and that alone was enough to have the other humans ignore them. Had he tried going alone, he would’ve definitely drawn attention to himself.

Slow. He was going too slowly. He was almost starting to run but he had to keep his steps slow enough for the human to keep the pace. He couldn’t ditch him while they were still surrounded by soldiers. “Hey! You’re going too fast!”

No, it was the human who was going too slow, panting and sweating and swearing as his sluggish feet trudged through the air. “We must hurry.” Was all the demonkin said, impatiently, hurriedly.

“Why are we going to the east wall anyways?” The man muttered in irritation as they entered the streets. “It’s not like we have soldiers there.”

“No, we don’t.” His hand reached out to touch the human’s helmet.

The soldier never got past the look of confusion. Didn’t even get the chance to know what happened let alone react. A jolt coursed through his body and every muscle tensed for a fraction of a second before he collapsed, dead on the spot from the silently cast lightning spell.

The corpse was kicked into the side alley where the demon hoped it would take longer to discover him. The next second he was running as fast as his legs would take him. Everyone along the way was ignored, he had to tell them, they had to get moving now!

He was fortunate enough to remember not to slam his way into the safehouse or Yurtu would’ve immediately filled him with holes.

“The Captain…” The demon panted while removing his disguise glaring at the owl shadow-mage. “Tell Arath, the Captain has escaped.”

Yurtu wasted not a second and ran, the demon was hot on his heels, each with their own destination in mind.

The room’s door was forced open. The demon stopped to breathe finding the place completely devoid of the green-skinned orc. “Joun!” The voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Arath was looking at him with wild eyes from the room’s entrance. “What happened?”

“Captain has escaped to the underground. The Church is going crazy trying to find him.” Joun replied. “Where’s Greyfang?”

“She’s acquiring supplies.” Arath replied putting on the long cloak that would help hide her appearance. “We don’t have time to wait for her.”

Joun gritted his teeth. She had a point. “We don’t.” He admitted. “The Inquisitor is already on the move. We can’t waste this opportunity.”

The sound of the door slamming shut drew the attention of all three of them. They exchanged looks, hands going for their weapons and silently drawing the. “Greyfang?” Joun spoke loudly and carefully, his right hand drawing small circles in the air as he began to prepare to cast a spell.

“The slaves!” The green skinned woman appeared in the corridor, eyes wild and an incredibly wide smile on her lips. “The slaves are revolting!”

All four of them exchanged looks. A frown overcame the two demons.

“Coincidence?” Artha spoke with a hint of hope.

“Can’t be.” Yurtu growled.

“I agree.” Joun nodded.

“But a revolt can’t be good news for the Church soldiers right now.” Yurtu pointed out. “It’s too convenient… Trap?”

The male demon growled a curse under his breath. “If it’s a trap, it’s too inconvenient for the Church. I already confirmed Captain escaped into the underground.”

Hesitation passed over Artha’s face. “Maybe they knew you were a demon.”

“Then they’d have captured or killed me already, the Church doesn’t exactly let demons roam free.” Joun countered. “This is an opportunity we can’t risk being staged and end up wasting it. It’s likely the only chance we may have.”

“I don’t like it, but I agree.” Artha nodded. “Let’s hope Captain will head to the docks like we’d planned originally.”

“Carefully.” Yurtu added eyes taking a soft grayish brilliance as he prepared to cast a spell to better help them go unnoticed.

“Carefully.” They nodded.

- Margad -

The sewers were, in theory, the best place Margad could have ever hoped to fight in. He specialized in water and earth magic and the sewers had an abundance of both elements. Combining this with his natural ability to see even in absolute darkness, it should be obvious he would be better off attempting to engage his enemies within the underground.

Reality was much less ideal however. The smell alone was something that made his head spin with a mix of revulsion and nausea.

The company wasn’t exactly ideal either.

“The Inquisitor is tracking us.” Arwen spoke with some apprehension.

Margad didn’t answer, he was too busy with other things. “Over here!” A human soldier shouted and as soon as the demon saw the Church soldier, he released the spell he had prepared. A spike of rock and soil thrust up from beneath the soldier and the human was no more.

Adjusting the lump that was Arwen on his shoulder with a grunt, Margad stopped and drew mana once more, preparing for the new wave of soldiers that had undoubtedly heard the first one. “How do you figure he’s tracking us?”

“Call it intuition.” The human shrugged with a grunt from where he was. Margad noted how he was avoiding to look in the direction of the only source of light: the torch the now impaled soldier had been holding. “It’s a bit too coincidental the number of soldiers we’ve been finding has grown.”

Indeed. “Stoneja!” Margad roared the instant he spotted a soldier passing the corner of the first one. A series of screams was heard as more spikes erupted under the soldier and those behind him.

Silence followed.

“You’re starting to get tired.” Arwen pointed out. “Let me off.”

“You’re useless down here.” Margad replied.

“I can at least run if I can put those boots on.” He pointed at the slaughtered soldier. “And arm myself while at it.”

“Not enough time, they’ll be here soon.”

“So collapse the tunnels to buy us time. It’s not like they’ve sent mages down here that could clear them out.” The human spoke.

Margad’s eyes widened as he looked at the human he’d been carrying. His mind began to whirl; he had never thought of making the tunnels collapse. It would be of great aid in restraining the enemy’s movements and impede them from following him. Why hadn’t he thought of this when escaping the Church? No mage could clear out a tunnel faster than he could bring it down on them!

Tossing the complaining human next to the impaled corpse, he confirmed the latest batch of soldiers had died and quickly collapsed the tunnel behind him and the two in front. “I could go straight up…” He muttered, looking at the ceiling above him.

“Inquisitor is probably expecting you to do exactly that. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s right above us.” The human grumbled, struggling to remove the boots from the corpse. His complexion becoming greener as he spoke. “We need to figure out a way to block that detection spell or we’re not getting anywhere without him having an ambush waiting for us.”

Margad wasn’t dissuaded as he kept glaring upwards. “I could prepare spikes down here and open a hole underneath him.”

“That’s… that’s pretty smart if you manage to catch him by surprise.” Something about the way Arwen replied seemed like he didn’t much like that fact. “Though I personally wouldn’t want to be in an enclosed location with a bleeding, experienced and powerful blood-mage.”

The words were worrying and Margad quickly nodded. The blood of a blood-mage was incredibly toxic. Not to mention that if the mage survived, they would be in a very dangerous situation. “Agreed.” Stopping, the blue-skinned demon switched his thoughts towards the problem of them being tracked. A solution quickly presenting itself. “He’s following you, probably using the blood from the stab.”

He became pale at that. “That’s not good.” The sickened expression from handling the bloodied clothes and gear was replaced by a worried look. “And the only way I can come up with to block it is not something I’d rather do… do you have any spell to block tracking?”

“How would you prevent being tracked without a spell?”

“By bleeding all over the place.” The human grimaced. “It should increase the number of false positives and make me somewhat harder to spot.”

‘False positive’, the word combination was odd to Margad as he’d never heard it before. Still, he could grasp the idea behind it easily enough. That and the risks. Arwen being a blood-mage could potentially poison everyone in the city who came into contact with water from a nearby well. As much as he’d agree to it, there were some people within the city that Margad would rather not die.

But there was an alternative. Margad’s eyes lit up. “If by blood he tracks you, then with blood we can hide it.” Approaching one of the more severely skewered corpses, he removed the human’s cape and drenched it in the soldier’s blood.

“Oh, hell no.” Arwen turned greener once more as he saw the cape.

The demon frowned. “The alternative is that I leave you down here on your own.” He stated bluntly, a fate the demon himself would rather avoid. He couldn’t let Arwen out of his sight, the human was too dangerous and valuable for that.

The human cringed, shuddered, and grimaced. “Fuck my life.” He muttered lowly, furiously rubbing his hair with his hands and avoiding looking at the dead soldiers let alone the demon working to thoroughly cover the piece of clothing with the still warm blood. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

He didn’t though, gagging and still looking incredibly displeased with the idea. He had to take several deep breaths and mutter something to himself before finally calming down. With a grimace, the human nodded weakly as he buckled on the sheathe and blade from the soldier. “Do your thing then. No tricks.”

Margad turned towards the coat and draped it over Arwen’s shoulders. The human made a gagging sound but held his composure. Margad began casting an occlusion spell. It wasn’t great but he didn’t know any spell that would work better. “This should be enough.”

“Fingers crossed.” The human muttered with a troubled expression then sighed. “Time to get a move on then.” With a wince, he used the sword to make a shallow cut on his hand and pressed it against the tunnel’s roof leaving a small bloody mark there. “This much shouldn’t put anyone’s life at risk.” He mumbled while putting on the bloodied hood and not looking very happy about it. The gagging was restrained once more.

The blue prince’s tail lashed in irritation and contempt at the clear signs of inexperience the human had in relation to blood but he said nothing, taking a deep breath to prepare his next spell. With both hands against the crumbled walls, he focused. An abrupt rumble followed and the spell told him of the dozens of soldiers that were currently attempting to remove the rubble in front of them. With this confirmation, Margad turned towards the other tunnel and this time the spell told him there were soldiers working but far less than on the other hand.

“This way.” He stated casting another earth-spikes spell to remotely kill the soldiers before he began to cast another spell to raise the rubble into the air.

Still looking green, Arwen nodded and hurried through with Margad following close behind, the demon allowing the rubble to fall back down once they were through. “You have a lot of magic to burn through, I’d have thought you’d have a lot less.”

“That’s because I’m a demon.” Margad snorted and motioned him to get rid of the torch. “We don’t want to get spotted.”

Arwen glanced at the torch and then at himself, then frowned. “I may have an idea.”

- Rainer -

CLAK CLAK CLAK

The two men swung the long handled hammers down on the iron chisel with rhythmic consistency, every second meant one more impact, every impact the chisel sunk just marginally further into the stone. It wasn’t until the chisel had sunk halfway that they stopped.

“Next.” The human muttered, wiping sweat from his brow while Rainer brought out the next chisel, placing it half a pace away from the first and keeping it aligned to the other chisels.

The human raised the hammer while Rainer held the chisel, two impacts proved to be enough to keep it steady on its own. The minotaur then picked up his own hammer and began to match the human’s rhythm so both of them could attack the piece of metal at the same time.

The large stone they were standing on had been one the dragon had summoned during its rampage, and right now their task was to riddle it with chisels aligned in a straight line so as to make it easier to split the boulder into more manageable pieces. The sound of their hammering was drowned in a sea of noises, dozens if not more were carrying out their own tasks.

CLANG

A bell rung once, the sound was unlike anything Rainer had heard before. It was akin to a crystalline explosion. It sent a tremor through the ground and up his very bones. At the sound of it, everyone present paused in their work.

CLANG

Twice it rung, and Rainer noticed how the men and women abruptly tensed up. They were looking at one another with confused expressions.

CLANG

A third time, and as one, all of them began to rush to drop everything they were doing. “Rainer.” The man who’d been hammering with the minotaur made a gesture to him. “We need to move and arm ourselves.”

“What’s happening?” He couldn’t avoid asking.

“We don’t know, but if the Church’s bell rings thrice, it’s big.” The man lead him towards where the other workers were gathering. “It means everyone has to arm themselves and get ready for battle.”

Something that the Church considered important enough to gather everyone under their control and prepare them for battle. Rainer couldn’t avoid becoming tense. The sight of the other workers taking out some swords and shields from a box made it worse.

“This is all we got.” The men emptying the box declared after less than a third of them were armed. “We will have to make do.”

“Can’t we go to the barracks? Aren’t there more weapons there?” Rainer asked worriedly.

“We may not have the time for that.” Someone else replied before raising his voice. “Groups of three, spread out and take defensive positions. Anyone armed approaching is to be given exactly one warning and no more.”

One man stepped in front of the man who had given the order and bowed. “What is our objective?”

“Garcia is to head to the garrison to give them the confirmation we’re ready and undergeared. Until we receive orders we stay put and protect this location.” At his command, one of the men armed with a short-sword and a shield nodded and began to run towards the city.

‘Protect this location…’ Rainer grasped the hammer as he turned to look at the site. It was ruins and rubble. Was there anything here worth protecting? He doubted it.

He noted smoke rising in the distance, and a sense of unease grew within his gut.

- Yselda -

The bell had rung thrice, and each time her room had shaken with it, the feeling creeping up her soles all the way to the tips of her horns. The minotaur couldn’t stop herself from looking out the window and noticing the rising column of smoke. Worry began to well inside her gut.

Clutching her hands, her lips curled and her brows furrowed. Every part of her told her she should be out there right now. That something bad was going to happen. That she should be looking for Rainer and work together with him.

But no matter how much she said it in her thoughts, she couldn’t bring herself to leave the room. She’d been ordered to stay until the following day, and she knew, she was sure, that if she didn’t follow the Inquisitor’s orders the both of them would quickly regret it.

Her lips curled further.

More and more, she wasn’t sure what she should do.