The red light flowing into the room through the windows was an artistic stroke to him. A comforting silence was all that met him as he sat at the head of the table. His lips thin and distorted into a smile as he stared at the remains of what had been a dreadful dinner. The blood strewn white cloth and floor was all he had desired since the start of it. How joyous it was to him, sitting there carefully cleaning the knife.

There was a certain pleasure for him in the action of ending life. To snuff out one of the many sources of the endless noise he couldn't stop. This was the first day in a long time he was free of it, now that most of the living souls in the area had been either possessed or snuffed out. The evil beings he worked with are all silent for him.

Yet, he took particular pride in the site of the dead at the table. It had gone off without a hitch. The ambassadors, the local lord, and several other prominent people had all been so quickly and ruthlessly killed in their seats. The final drops to break the dam and issue forth that beloved silence. Now, with the only sounds being the muffled destruction outside, he could have a moment to relax.

It had been a long, careful process to make this day happen. The church had been such a horrible little thorn in his side to keep out of the ritual sites. Thankfully, his friend down south had given plenty of refugees that no one would notice if they went missing. Even better, the one thorn that could have been particularly problematic in that little old fort had stayed sitting there. Though, a certain twinge of sadness struck at that. Alexander had been such a fun person the last time they had met. Yet he had one more job to finish.

The black haired man picked up the wine glass in front of him and studied it carefully to see if any blood had fallen in. He muttered, "The Silent Watcher, The Undying Hound, The Mercy's End, The Justice's Hero, and The Vindict's Wrath. Three of five, two to go. Hope that moron down south doesn't kill one of them."

Then, from somewhere in the building, a mind thought in an old voice, *Damn that fool!*

The man let out a small theatrical sigh and considered for a moment how the wording would need to be. Still, there was a certain happiness to know that he'd not have to hunt down the old fool. He listened to the angry mind of the inquisitor, shocked that he had come alone. Maybe, though, his fellow holy men had fallen to the chaos in the streets. Demons and the possessed were slaughtering and gathering up what few lived and wouldn't escape. It possibly meant the old man had brought forth a special weapon, though.

After a few moments, the door to the dining hall opened and Marindol stood there. Aged as he was, he still was somewhat an imposing figure in that moment. The old priest had a sword of all things, bloody in his hand, as he shouted, "Altgastir Montiquen!"

The Baron grinned playfully at the old man. He studied the blade carefully, realizing it had several magical circles carved along the blade. It was a beautiful weapon the royal man had seen in the temple. With glee knowing the old priest had brought a holy relic to try and kill him, he said, "My my, here to be my savior, Inquisitor?"

The priest stepped forward, the humming blade brandished in his wrinkled hands. The Baron held up a hand and said, "My! Not going to try to stop me are you? Do you think you'll survive this?"

The priest sneered and said, "I'll die trying. I knew you were one of them."

Altgastir grin turned ruefully cruel as examined his knife while saying, "Oh, most certainly. Too bad you were too late. If you hadn't focused so much effort chasing Mr. Moores, you MIGHT have stopped all this. How does it feel? "

The priest stopped some distance away, glaring intently. The Baron laughed with a gleeful tone, saying, "Oh, I know! Shocking right? Amazing! When I'm done with you, I'll send word to the Hound that the plan is going forward too!"

The black haired man stood up dramatically, smiling at how the priest's thoughts did exactly what was needed. Alexander had failed to be possessed and thus the setup failed then, but this new plot was going swimmingly. He was giddy at the idea that he might Lady Lura'mi, too. He sighed and said, "Oh, I guess I can just tell you. Why not? You won't be leaving anyways."

The Baron slowly began to circle the inquisitor, head tilted back slightly, and blade pointed at the old man. He continued, "You are far too smart for your own good. Skilled as you are, you're just too old as well. Lady Lura'mi was all too eager to scoop him up out of your little prison. Maybe if you hadn't been so paranoid, she'd not have turned on the world too! How kind of you to give me so many assets and allies, though."

Marindol had a look of disgust on his face. Altgastir knew all too well the fact that the priest had suspected this exact idea all this time, but it was gloriously funny how quickly he just accepted it. The herald stepped forward and struck out with the knife. The old man stepped back and brought the blade to bear, a humming issuing from the blade.

The Baron stepped aside and watched as a trail of light followed the blade. Altigastir, flourishing the knife at the old man's arm, sang out the words, "Seeking to kill me with a magic blade? Even that won't save you."

Had the old man been younger, he'd have gotten free without any wound. Unfortunately for him, the knife bit across his forearm as he spun. Altigaster spun with him as the glowing blade swung at where he was. Flipping the blade around, the silent watcher dropped down low as the blade continued as the inquisitor stepped back.

The Baron laughed madly, enjoying every second, saying, "Come now! Surely age isn't such a burden, you idiotic old zealot!"

The inquisitor was still moving oddly well for his age. Something was up, but the younger man couldn't figure out what for the only thoughts in the older's head was purely about the fight. That was still in and of itself useful to know. The two circled each other slowly, looking for any opening. The sword's trail of magical energies was no doubt a danger in and of itself. For all his taunting, Altgastir knew too well how quickly this would turn if that blade were to strike him.

The Baron with his free hand reached into his jacket and in the same motion launched the knife in his hand at the priest. The old man struck away the knife with his blade and charged forward, keeping well in mind the trail. The baron pulled a new knife and just barely moved in time to dodge an upward slash.

Then the old man brought down upon him a furious blow, faster than the first. Altgastir dropped to one knee and switched the knife to his other hand. Then, Marindol dropped the blade and began to circle. The Baron spun as best as he could, realizing the trap that was laid as the trail of light began to incircle him.

He launched himself at the priest. The blade came up again, Altigaster twisting himself as best as was physically possible and drove his knife towards the old man's shoulder. Searing pain struck the Baron as the trail of light hit his body, yet he pushed forward, driving the knife in as deep as he could.

New pain struck the younger man as the priest struck him with his fist and the baron rolled backwards and bounced back to his feet. The priest stood there in the red light next to the window as Altigaster steadied himself with one hand on the dining table he found himself next to. The trail of light had left his arm with a nasty burn and his face stung from the strike. He said, grinning through the pain, "My, Inquisitor. The years have been nice to you apparently. That wasn't the plan you had in your head either."

Marindol's face darkened with understanding and the Baron played off shock. Altigaster pulled a third knife from his coat as the priest began to move forward again. Then the sounds of several odd, out of rhythm foot steps began to sound out from somewhere. The inquisitor stopped and his eyes shot between the younger man and the direction of sound. Then, much to Altigaster's shock, the old man turned, broke the window, and lept out.

Running over to the spot, he saw the old man hurrying himself away to the gate. The limp he had was an enjoyable sight, but the broken awning was going to bother him. He turned from the window and began dancing a waltz about the table. He stopped mid step as the demons burst into the room. The largest figure was covered in coarse, black hair and large. It resembled a crude human with no head and a set of teeth in the center of it's chest. A rare breed of demon, both intelligent and physically strong, yet willing to listen.

The demons about it were far more standard. Weak, violent things that now merely only followed orders because of the greater demon's power. The Baron began to look over his burned arm as it said in an echoing voice, "The Contritioner forces are advancing on the city."

Altigaster let out his breath in a long, deliberate way and then threw the bladed weapon into the back of the elven corpse next to him. Calmly he returned to his seat and took a sip from his glass. Luckily, that had not been broken in the scuffle. He asked, faking annoyance, "Alexander?"

The demon was frowning as it stood there, towering over it's kin. The thing said, "Oh, most certainly along with that one female you told us to look out for. The Priest?"

Alexander would have to wait, even if it was the action he'd hope wouldn't happen. Things would have been far more simple for everyone if the younger herald would just stay in that kennel. The fact he brought along that one woman struck the man as somewhat cute. The fact the hound had apparently to the same tastes as him was somewhat warming. Still, he didn't like others playing with his old toys. The Baron shook his head of the thought and said, "He is to escape. If there is any objection, kill the objectors. The old man is more useful right now."

The large form turned and began to lumber away, it's many strange underlings following. Altister thought about the woman for a second and said, "Oh, one more thing."

The demon turned its eyes back. The other evil creatures were clearly agitated as they stood there. An easy solution to one of his personal problems was right there in front of him. The Baron's face twisted into a sadistic grimace. It was about time to have a bit of revenge on the pale elven woman and teach Alexander a lesson at the same time. He said, almost cooing out the words, "I want that woman killed in front of him. That should rile him up something fierce. Slaughter the little force he brought with him too. "

The excitement of the larger sent it's little clan of demons into an agitated state beyond what they were. Demons were generally physically weak and thus needed numbers. Yet, this was a veritable feast for them with all the horrors happening in the city, they'd grow rapidly. The Baron didn't know how many birds this stone would take out for him, but he couldn't just let the chance pass by. The creature began to grin, bearing its teeth fully, as it hissed out, "Oh it will be my pleasure."