Shortly after Prisaela left Thoz and Uzdaax on their own, the duo found themselves struggling for any real sense of direction. Leave it to the succubus to light a fire in the group, but when the boss was left alone with the sin of sloth things very quickly devolved into bargaining.

“Fine, if this goes well and we get out of here today you can have the rest of the trip off. I won’t ask you to do any work until we get north to Daskaora” Thozronnath offered after several minutes of Uzdaax begging for some kind of relief. The ghost found exertion of any kind to be a personal slight, and with the amount of responsibility being hoisted on him currently, you could be damn sure he was scratching for any form of recompense.

“Thank you, master, such a generous oooffffer” Uzdaax yawned. His speech had improved dramatically with his recent evolutions, yet he seemed to be in a state of near-perpetual drowsiness, leading to sentences often being punctuated or interrupted by slow yawning.

“The journey north will be long, and relaxing” Uzdaax continued, bowing his incorporeal form slightly as he nodded in deference to his leader.

“Whatever” The devil sighed in response “Let’s just get out of here, the extra security is chafing and making me nervous. The sooner we’re in the middle of nowhere, the better”

Without a further word of instruction to his minion, Thoz moved towards the window of the quaint and cramped bedroom they’d ‘vacated’ that morning. A quick application of [Shapeshift] and his form melted and merged into a large black raven, ominously large. The bird now sitting on the windowsill, clothes and belongings magically melded with its body was roughly the size of a small dog. With [Flight] and [Ethereal Realm] Uzdaax could almost definitely get out of the city without being noticed at all, so the big bird was the potential point of failure in this plan.

A gentle fluttering of feathers accompanied the raven as it took flight into the early morning air over the city of Rovale. Perhaps not quite as inconspicuous as Thozronnath would have liked, he did garner a few second glances and at least one prolonged stare as he ascended higher above the city. As he angled upwards, the devil-bird worked on maintaining a careful balance between altitude upwards and his momentum out of the city. If he flew too high, all he would do is tire himself out by making the trip longer.

That plan came to a very sudden and screeching halt though, thanks to the arrow that whizzed past the tip of Thoz’s left wing. Casting his vision down to the city below him, it took mere moments to find the source of this attack. A small contingent of guards, led by a stocky human in shining plate armor, was following at a full sprint through the streets. Their path was not nearly as direct as a bird’s flight path though, so Thoz felt comfortable he would lose them eventually.

This comfort vanished when the second arrow passed by him. The only thing allowing him any safety from their shots was the sheer height difference and apparent lack of any ranged Skills. He had not lost them at all. In fact, they were getting closer.

Thoz, of course, had no way to know that Sardan the paladin was following the lingering presence the devil left behind. A detection skill being used for rudimentary tracking. Yet, he was still suspicious of how they found him so quickly.

That was not a matter to be focused on now though. Thoz began to ascend even higher into the sky, turning sharply towards the forest meeting point. If he was going to have to confront these mortals, he would do so with as many minions in front of him as possible.

The flight towards the forest was longer than need be, but thankfully safe. Thoz managed to put some distance between himself and the guards who needed to go through the city gates and sent Uzdaax on ahead to contact the others currently outside of the ranger of his [Telepathy]. Anyone who knew a shapeshifted Thoz wasn’t a normal bird and still willingly chased it down was either confident, dangerous, or both, and Thoz was going to make sure he was prepared for whichever one turned out to be true.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sardan was fucking exhausted. On the verge of drop-dead tired, even with the increased endurance some of his class skills gave him. The native guardsmen for Rovale had been set up at every available gate, and even some of the intersections in the city, screening people for signs of the devil as they went about their daily business.

His part in all those efforts had been coordinating between the various locations while simultaneously sweeping the city for signs of the fiend. So far, it had been working fairly well. By sunrise, they had narrowed the area down to roughly five square miles of the city which gave him the feeling of foreboding. The center of his focus seemingly changing within that area suggested the devil kept a surprisingly simple routine or knew he was being watched.

Either way, it gave Sardan an advantage he wouldn’t have otherwise. He had an area he could monitor, and a perimeter he could set up. A five-mile stretch of land was a sizeable chunk to keep under 24/7 surveillance, but with the rest of the guard placed on skeleton crews, Rovale had enough ‘guards’ to manage it. The fact that half the folks on the payroll never showed up to patrol the city and were more of the ear to the ground assassin type made monitoring an urban environment more of a blessing than a curse. A unique advantage to a city of smugglers, and perhaps the only one.

Sardan had to wait all night and into the morning before the stakeout paid off. Part of his responsibility as the only qualified paladin in the city was being on call for the infernal whenever it occurred. He got more than a little grumpy watching the guards rotate through their shifts during the night, each new arrival well-rested and well-fed as he subsisted on dry bread and endurance-boosting Skills.

His patience paid off quickly though, as shortly after sunrise the alarm bells began to echo through the city. By the direction they were moving, there had clearly been some disturbance at the northern gate or that rough vicinity.

Several of the guards in the stakeout unit rushed off to address the crisis, but Sardan could still sense the infernal presence. It was still grating on his mind like the sting of an insect. He convinced only a handful of guards to stay with him.

This proved an astute deduction, as just a few minutes later a massive raven took flight from within the perimeter. That alone was enough to set Sardan’s suspicions upon it, yet when he beheld the creature with his own eyes it was like looking into a fire. He could feel the heat inside his head.

The guards were immediately ordered to fire upon the beast, and Sardan began leading them at a full sprint through the streets after it. Sardan had no way to prove that this was the devil, but he could feel it, he was as sure of it as any sign he had ever received from his god. This was his duty.

It’s a strange feeling, being confronted with the one thing you’re told will never happen in your line of work yet everyone still trains for. Sardan was still an office worker at the end of the day, and he knew that, but at that moment when faced with evil, he felt truly focused for the first time in his life.

He followed the Devil’s assault on his senses through the streets, taking shortcuts through alleys and over fences whenever necessary to maintain a line of sight. Soon though, he knew the beast would be outside of the city and it would come down to speed. That was not something he could win, especially if he needed to go through the gates.

So, he sent two guards off to fetch six horses to the northern gate and took all the other guards to pursue the creature. By the time both arrived, perhaps the horses would help close the gap.

Sardan’s hopes soon turned to prayers though, as the devil became little more than a speck in the distance by the time he had gotten a posse assembled and riding north from the town. They could vaguely follow its trail towards the ironwood forest, but they’d have to track it manually from there.

This was the realization that led to the other guardsmen abandoning Sardan. The paladin was left alone to continue deeper into the wilds in the hunt for a quarry only he felt the need to face. There was no certain measure that he would live through this victoriously, or live through it at all, but that was the premise of faith. Sardan believed he would. Iuris would carry him through in recognition for a lifetime of service, and he would uphold the laws of this realm as only a paladin could.