Fantasy Band of Demons (Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy)

[Monday]

Eamon blanched as Cyrillia explained that human meat was a delicacy in the demon world, something he had not, in fact, known. The thought of digging eyes out of lifeless skulls prompted a shudder, and he was relieved when she said harvesting was his choice. She did have a point, in that the dead would not be needing their organs, but he had also been taught to treat the dead with respect even when a burial could not be managed... even when they were the enemy. Despite becoming a demon, he thought of himself as human first, and to participate in this business at all would be tantamount to cannibalism. He sincerely hoped he himself would not be expected to consume human meat, and vowed then and there that he never would. Surely that was not part of his duty.

Not for the last time, he wondered if he was in over his head. He pressed his mouth into a thin line and nodded noncommittally at Cyrillia.

The cavalry leader ordered his men to dispose of them, his tone laced with disgust. Cyrillia informed them that she would let them deal with the soldiers in order to prove themselves. She pulled a large black greatsword out of a portal and rested it on her shoulder, looking at them expectantly. "If you take hits, I can heal you, too." Well, that was somewhat comforting. "Just concentrate on fighting," she said with a cheery smile that only made Eamon more nervous than he was already.

Meanwhile, the cavalry surged forward, and Bismark plunged into the fray, tearing into the soldiers with a pair of demonic claws. Eamon followed, trying to come up with a plan. Even with his increased height, he was still at a disadvantage when faced with a force on horseback. If only I had a- As if it had read his thoughts, his sword transformed into a large halberd within his grip. None too soon, he gripped it firmly and aimed it at the nearest soldier, who rode right into it and was knocked from his horse to be trampled by the rider behind him. Eamon took advantage of the confusion to drag that rider to the ground and quickly stab into the gap between the man's breastplate and helmet.

He felt a flash of heat erupt off to the side, followed by a bloodcurdling scream, and turned to see a man fall to the ground engulfed in flames. Behind him Bismark was still hacking and slashing at the enemy, but the back of his clothing was stained with blood. Eamon started fighting his way toward his comrade, thinking they'd be more effective if they stuck together. With his newfound strength, he could swing his halberd tirelessly, knocking men from their horses, piercing through their armor, and batting aside their weapons with ease. Before long, he'd cleared a path to the Jester. One soldier who had fallen from his horse was charging Bismark on foot. Almost without thinking, he transformed his weapon into a bow and quiver and shot the man through the neck, both to help Bismark and to get his attention. As the soldier toppled to the ground, the arrow vanished in a puff of black smoke.

Eamon ran up to his fellow demon, his bow and quiver becoming a sword and shield. "We should stand back to back," he called, turning to face the rest of the cavalry, which now surrounded them in an approximate circle since they had charged right into the center. Not the best planned assault. Thick dust swirled in the air from the trampling of hooves and feet. As he prepared himself for the next wave of attack, the stirrings of an idea began to form in his mind.

 

[TanteRegenbogen]

Cyrillia

Cyrillia watched as both Bismarck and Eamon engaged in battle. Bismarck went first. It seemed he was enjoying it. However soon, not long into battle Bismarck took a hit. He fought off another enemy with his flame ability that he had requested as a power. As demon lord, it was part of Cyrillia's duties to take care of her followers, however she would have taken care of them even if it wasn't her duty. She concentrated her power on healing Bismarck. While it was kind of difficult to heal him due to him moving around, Cyrillia managed to heal his injury. "Good job, Bismarck! Keep up the good work." Cyrillia cheered on.

Cyrillia then turned her focus to Eamon, who seemed to have quickly mastered his shapeshifting weapon, first taking out a horseman with a large halberd. He then took out a couple more soldiers before clearing his way towards Bismarck. As a soldier tried to charge him on foot, Eamon quickly changed his halberd into a bow and took out the soldier with an arrow. Cyrillia watched as they seemed to begin to work in a team to deal with the threat. "You are doing well. I know I can trust your abilities." Cyrillia shouted to the two.

The cavalry leader began to charge Cyrillia seeing her as the leader and the healer. Her gaze shifted towards him. She seemed to be rather relaxed and confident. "Oh? We got one attacking me?" Cyrillia said with a grin. "I wonder if you are really worth it." She swung her massive sword at the cavalry leader, cutting through the horse like butter. "Normally I like horses, but in this environment a quick death is merciful compared to starving." Cyrillia said as the cavalry leader fell off the halved horse. She picked him up and said: "Watch as your men are defeated. I will let them decide whether to let you be the messenger that we are coming for the Empire or to kill you like the others." "Just kill me already or are you afraid?" The cavalry leader said. Cyrillia chuckled: "Afraid of what? The Empire? I am to bring justice and revenge for the murder of a nation. I may be a new demon lord, but I know that me and my companions are strong and in time we will get stronger."

"Guys, when you are done, tell me what we should do with their leader. I will let you decide. We could let him warn the Empire or we could take them on by surprise." Cyrillia said to Eamon and Bismarck.

 

[Nubby Nubs]

BISMARCK

Although he was a bit distracted with fighting the patrolmen in front of him. Suddenly, an arrow pierced a charging patrolman that was only moments away from giving him a good stab. This sudden assistance made snap his head to face the earl,"we should stand back to back" he called. Bismarck merely shrugged,a little assistance was something he wouldn't. so with a sudden flash of a warpy purple,he suddenly appeared from behind eamon. HIs back facing eamon's. He didn't really have much of a plan when it came to dispatching the incoming assault,but he didn't need to waste his thoughts on such fools. All he had to do was Rip and Tear,He allowed a few of them to come close,then using his unholy fire to turn most of the charging cavalry into ash.

of course,one of them managed to get through. And screamed an angry warcry as it continued to charge, bismarck merely let out a chuckle. as he pulled back his fist, he punched the horse in the face. This threw back the horse several feet from him,and at same time launching the rider to the air,thanks to his unnatural agility. He managed to grab the ride by the leg, and SLAMMED the bastard right onto the ground. he then went with a quick strike to the heart with his daemonic claws. bismarck was sure he had finished his side,he didn't pay much attention to the earls fight as he stood up, and yelled out to the queen,"O queen! i'd say we take the bastards by surprise. For such fools will not believe the word of one,but will absolutely listen to the many.!"

 

[Monday]

Over the cries of the men, the thudding of hooves, and the screams of frightened horses, Eamon was vaguely aware of Cyrillia shouting encouragement. He appreciated the sentiment, but needed to focus, so he mostly tuned her out but remained alert in case she gave an order. When he suggested to Bismark that they stick together, the Jester appeared suddenly behind him, then immediately let loose with his flames without waiting for another word. Eamon fought back his growing irritation. A soldier, the man was not.

At this stage, a coordinated attack was probably too much to ask of him. Though, despite his lack of training, he was doing well, tearing into the one straggler like a wild beast. Eamon steeled himself for the coming attack on his side, instinctively shifting his sword into a spear. Meanwhile, Cyrillia called out, "Guys, when you are done, tell me what we should do with their leader. I will let you decide. We could let him warn the empire or we could take them on by surprise."

After dispatching his rider, Bismark voiced his support of a surprise attack, saying the empire wouldn't listen to the testimony of one man. Eamon decided to forestall his reply until he had finished his side of the battle. Why there had to be "sides", he had no idea, but Bismark seemed to consider his part in the affair to be finished. The remainder of the troops had balked at the sight of the Jester's firely assault, which had bought him a little time, but now they charged again, screaming their battle cries. As they began to close in on him, he realized that he was facing them alone, not as part of a formation, and that as such, he needed a new strategy. A completely unconventional one. One he had not been trained for.

His mind went blank. Panic settled in his gut as blows rained down on him, and he resorted to warding them off with a single large shield. Think, Eamon! he admonished himself. But no ideas came. He began to despair. No. I will not die here! Instinct seized him. His shield disappeared from his left hand and reappeared in his right as the original sword of Elwynn, and he swung it in a wide arc, a feral roar tearing from his throat. Two lines of horses plowed into the ground, their legs severed. Before he had time to wonder how that was possible, a soldier thrown from his horse had grasped his ankle and was brandishing a dagger. Quick as thought, he stabbed downward, and the man fell limp. Several others had managed to disentangle themselves from the pile of bodies and scramble to their feet. He was on them in an instant, dispatching each with a clean, fatal blow, his reactions faster than they'd ever been. Two riders still circled the pileup, and he shifted his sword into a bow, each arrow finding its mark in middle of the breastplate.

Once their riders had fallen from the saddle, the two horses galloped some distance away, then slowed to a trot, probably heading back the way they'd come. All at once, a weariness fell over Eamon's limbs, and he wondered if whatever magic had allowed him to slice through so many horses was the cause. Only now did he register a pain in his shoulder. He touched it gingerly, and his hand came away sticky with blood. The wound wasn't serious, so he took the time to pick over the carnage and put any horses or men that were still breathing out of their misery before walking over to Cyrillia. He found it bitterly ironic that despite his utter distaste for the demons' meat market, he'd managed to leave far more salvageable material than his comrade.

Belatedly, he remembered her query about the expedition's leader, who she was now holding in the air like a small child. He stared at her defiantly, and if he was afraid, he did not show it. Eamon had to admire the man's courage, if nothing else. It would be a shame to watch him die. "There is honor in giving the enemy fair warning..." he trailed off. Even with their powers, he doubted whether they could contend with the full force of the Empire's armies. "Though... secrecy would compensate for our disadvantage in numbers," he admitted.

 

[TanteRegenbogen]

Cyrillia

Bismarck seemed to be for just offing the leader and taking the empire by surprise. Eamon seemed to be undecided, citing the pros of both options. Both men had finished fighting and had defeated the squadron of cavalry.

Then an idea stuck Cyrillia. "I think I have something even better in mind. Something honorable that will yet give us time to catch the empire off guard. I just need to see if I am able to do something for it. The leader has the responsibility over his men both in life and in death. So how about we lay all the bodies on a rug or cart and have the cavalry leader make sure his men get a proper burial. If I can summon a horse, either a demonic horse or a spectre horse and have it exist under certain conditions, I can ensure that the cavalry leader sticks to his duty. The condition will be that as long as the summoned horse is attached to the cart or rug in tow, it will exist and once it is detached, it will disappear. I can give the cavalry leader food and drink for three or four days so he doesn't starve along the way. And if he makes it to the border before us, he can give the empire warning, though it might be too late then and barely give them time to prepare." She said.

Cyrillia then noticed Eamon's wound and apologized for not noticing it earlier: "I apologize Eamon. I see your shoulder is injured. Let me take care of that." She then set down the cavalry leader and stuck his sword far enough in the ground so that he couldn't just pull it out. Cyrillia then approached Eamon and held her hand over his wound. "This might feel a little warm." She said as she concentrated her power, healing Eamon's wound.

On his knees, the cavalry leader chuckled and said: "Only three demons can't put up a fight against the Empire, even with healing power. But I must admit, your plan with me proves tha at least some demons have some honor." Cyrillia squatted and looked down at the cavalry leader. She then said: "I haven't shown you what I can do. I am basically the battering ram and catapult of this army. And yes, I have honor. I will treat you at least with honor. Honor which the Empire didn't have when it incinerated my homeland. Honor which my family didn't have when they tried to sacrifice me to summon a demon to destroy the Empire. I, Princess... no, rather Queen Cyrillia Vertassa of Deubel turned Demon Lord of the Earthly Realm, have enough honor to allow these soldiers at least a proper burial in their homeland. However, in return, I will take their eyes and tongues as a sacrifice if you want to call it that way, as it is customary for demons to do so. They don't need them anyways to be at peace. It is your duty now to deliver the bodies home."

"I have not tried this yet, but I have a feeling it may work." Cyrillia said. She cut her hand and let a couple droplets of her blood drip on the ground. "Maa'ur, chief god of demonkind, I ask you of a favor. In exchange for some blood, I ask you to summon a carriage and a steed to deliver these corpses. And the steed shall disappear if uncoupled from the carriage but no later than in a weeks time." She said. Cyrillia then heard Maa'ur's voice: "Easy thing. More than enough blood." And a black carriage drawn by a warg-like creature with red eyes appeared before them. It wasn't necessarily the type of steed she had hoped for but it would do.

"I will give you food and drink for your trip." Cyrillia said to the cavalry leader.

(OOC: I hope you guys are okay with this.)