Journey Into the North

Adrian finished healing the ranger, the guy was alive he was so suprised. Seraph lay on the ground. Adrian reached out to heal the fallen man, but stopped suddenly, his hand hovering an inch from seraph's chest. Something was wrong...so horrible wrong with this man. For the good of all, he must be destroyed--Adrian stopped himself as he reached for his dagger. What was he thinking Seraph and proved himself good many times through this. He may have a bad feelin, but lets not forget how many times. Seraph had fought on tooth and nail to kill anything with a malicious purpose. he may not like Seraph much, but their was no need to kill him. Adrian sat back down, he was losing his way. His oath his honour were disappearing. He would not risk another chance like that, he was going to leave at Sedgeley.

Cyrus wanted to sit still and come to terms with everything that had happened, but he knew he'd never get the chance. Always running or fighting; left a body overwhelmed, it did. He'd thought he'd finally reached a haven, within the earth's womb, but it wasn't so.

Now the men were showing uncanny signs of possession, of evil not unlike that just slaughtered. It gave him chills to see the twisted designs crawl uninhibited over their bodies, so much so that for the first time he entertained notions of leaving. Even as he thought it though, he discounted the notion. He couldn't abandon these people, they were little more then children after all.

He took a step back, acknowledging that there was great good here too. The healing skills of the Paladin and the somewhat darker gift employed by Seraph were just as worthy of note. Cyrus frowned then, noticing a strange look cross the Paladin's face. The man was too often doubting his abilities and one of these days it was going to cost someone his life.

The other's, he saw, were in various states of concern. Some over the more obvious of problems, others more subtle and internal; worry over one's continued unconciousness, concern for a love as yet unacknowledged, for a friend who's soul lay in dire peril, for a quest so close to ruinous end, for a man's battle to autonomy, for a life unclaimed due to bitterest tragedy ...

And his own? Before he could even begin ruminating, something snagged his senses and his head snapped upward. "Elves," he hissed.

"Where," Valin said shortly, a variety of emotions flickering across his pointed face.

"On the mountain, somewhere close." Cyrus replied sensing thier tread on the mountain's broad back.

I awoke with a cough, a splutter...and blood. For a panicked moment, I thought I'd awoken in Bane's world--dark, dismal, empty, and utterly hopeless. Then I turned my head to see faces I knew--Valin, Cyrus, Finn...

"What happened...?" I asked. My voice....was not mine. It was ragged, raspy...ugly. It was then I realized that I could not open my right eye. And figured out what had happened.

Even as Valin opened his mouth to answer, I interrupted: "No, don't tell me...I already know."

"Can you stand?" he asked me.

I nodded, and began to push myself to my feet. Valin's arm was outstretched to help me up, but I ignored it and stood as straight as I could.

I remembered Henry pulling me off the ranger, likely in fear that I was doing some harm to him. The thrice bedamned, half noble bastard of a cutpurse--who did he think he was, interfering with my affairs!? I should strike him down where he stood, the rat bastard. I took a step toward the man, then blinked. What? Kill Henry?...but why?

I looked to the wiry thief; his hands had drifted to his shortsword, for we were too close for his crossbow, whould it come to blows. Killing this man...was out of the question. Something had...changed. I opened my mouth to speak.

"My...thank...Many thanks...Henry. I am forever in your debt." My hands were shaking, but I clenched them into fists to hide it. I reached down at my side to make sure my longsword was there before looking around the room for the others. One again, everyone was staring at me, a couple of them not bothering to hide their gawking looks or expressions of disgust. Finn was terrified, I could see it in her eyes. Her face, however, was stone cold.

"Please..." Again, the rasp of a voice that was not mine. "My friends...do not fear me. All will be explained in time."

I looked to each of my companions in turn, and realized that I'd meant what I said. All of these comrades in arms had become my friends, through blood and through blade. Even Henry, whose looks could kill a Wyvern, would be forever under my protection, and have my respect and friendship.

They had seen the Runes, and yet...had not harmed me, even in my helpless state. Could this be confusion? Fear? I did not know, but I was grateful, either way. I had unfinished business, here. I turned my back on the group, unable to look at them any longer. Looking down at my hands, I knew what to expect, and yet...was still disgusted and horrified. The twisted runes of Bane had dominated both hands, the letters and characters swirling around myginfers and up my forearm, disappearing under my armor. I felt me neck, and places of sheer, frigid colness marked their presence. I followed one trail up my cheek and over my brow. The Runes...had taken my eye.

Seraph's kindness had touched Henry, because he hadn't until now thought the warrior able of such feelings. Now an anger had calmed in Henry, and he sighed.

"We oughta get out of 'ere," he said. "Everything bad keeps 'appenin' down 'ere, and I want some fresh air for once ... and good food."

His comment broke the uneasy silence, and there were nods and smiles from some. Cyrus clapped his hand on Henry's shoulder. "Aye, laddie, that sounds grand. Since those Elves are coming, we may as well meet 'em on the way out, eh?"

Valin said nothing, but he was obviously deep in thought about the Elves. Henry was confused, also -- it was unknown for Elves to be in the North, especially on the borders of human countries, where the Elves usually kept to their own affairs, in their own lands.

Seraph had retreated to one corner, inspecting his body.

Sirloaz stood up, at last, but refused help. No-one spoke a word to him. henry felt the gloom of the party, the fact that two of their own were almost ... possessed ... by this evilness. But he felt something else too, more positive, something of comradeship. They were bonding through their adventures. Henry realised how attached he was too all of them, even Seraph, even the Elf. It was why he had ripped Seraph from Sirloaz.

Sirloaz dressed himself in his spare clothes. He was quiet, and pensive, and looked nobody in the eye. His shame was his own. No-one knew when the demon might take him again, might force him to do anything, so they left space between him and themselves almost unconsciously. Henry realised he would have to be quick with his crossbow if he ever threatened anyone, knowing he would fire if it meant sacrificing one man for the safety of the rest. He resoluted to talk to Seraph ... okay, maybe not Seraph, but at least Cyrus or Valin about Sirloaz and his demon.

"What about Tan'quin?" Adrian asked.

"We'll carry him," Valin answered. "Carmenia can help Finn walk on her damaged ankle, and you and Henry can carry the Druid. We've got to move," he added. "Now."

Everyone grabbed their gear.

Adrian looked round at the ranger. His eyes were glassed over. The ranger facial expression was frozen between fear and rage. Adrian shivered, he was nervous. What had Sirloaz exprienced deep in the cavern? Was he safe to have around? All these thoughts whirled through Adrian skull as they walked. He realized now though Seraph can be a bit gruff and mean. It was because he wanted them to succeed. Still the anger he had felt towards was Seraph was wrong. He had learnt at the academy if he was angry he needed to focus rage on enemies.

He had to leave at Sedgeley he knew that now. He sighed and prayed for guidance from someone.

Carmenia helped Finn to her feet. That hair, it was driving her crazy, all the knots and tangles, and the twigs and leaves that were caught in it. She sighed softly, she would work with that laer.

Suddenly she remembered something someone had said. About Elves coming, and meeting them on the way out.

This was bad. Very bad. She couldn't have them see her, it would ruin everything. She glanced at the people around her. They had no clue. She could just slip away into the shadows. But Finn, Finn would know.

"Finn," she said softly into Finn's ear.

"Wha'?" Finn asked irritably.

"I-I-" suddenly Carmenia thought of something, "I need to use that old cloak of yours." She wanted to add disgusting, dirty, repulsive old cloak, but she didn't.

"Huh?" Finn said, puzzled.

"I'm cold." Carmenia said, trying to shiver.

"Fin'," she said, handing her a dingy brown cloak.

"Thank you," Carmenia whispered, stopping for a moment to put it on. She lifted the hood to cover her ears and most of her facial features. It might work. She hoped so.

I hesitated as Carmenia began to move towards where Valin and the others were congregating for departure, and she looked back at me. One of her arms was hooked across my back, while one of mine rested across her shoulders so I could at least limp around. After the bit with the cloak, we'd tried a few steps; the height difference was a challenge, but it worked relatively well.

"What is it?" she asked, looking worried. I never would get used to seeing people other than Liam look at me like that.

"Jus' a mo'--" I said, sliding my hand down her arm and gripping her wrist so that I could bend over safely and pick the object at my feet. Seraph's gauntlet... "Hel' me o'er ta him?" I asked, jerking my chin towards Seraph. She gave me a look that reminded me horribly of my mother, during those times when she still hoped to turn me into a "lady" and marry me off to one of the village's most eligible bachelors. I rolled my eyes at her, but she just smiled benignly and helped me over.

His back was turned partly to us, his fingers gently probing the skin on his face. I cleared my throat in an attempt to catch his attention; the sound was too weak, and Carmenia shot me another amused glance. I shot her a glare (which she grinned at, the insufferable elf), and sighed. "Seraph."

He turned quickly, alert as ever, hand moving towards his belt and scabbards. When he saw it was only us, he let his hands fall to his sides, but didn't seem to relax too much. "Carmenia," he nodded to her, and then, "Finn?"

I found it difficult to look at his face, scarred so horribly by the runes and that dreadful eye (or lack thereof); beside me, Carmenia had her eyes tactfully lowered. After a moment of vacillation, though, I made myself look him dead on. "Yer gaun'let." I held it out to him with my free hand.

The expression on his face never changed, but I thought for a fleeting moment that there was something a little different about his eyes--eye, I corrected myself. He took it from me, his fingers brushing my hand, and this time I didn't flinch away.

"Thank you."

Everyone was sort of congregating in the Hall preparing to leave, but no one was really doing any moving, to speak of. I needed to change that. Now.

"Everyone, we need to move. NOW" I said.

I could tell Carmenia agreed, and knew what I meant. Why she didn't want other elves to fidn her, I had no clue, but the fact of the matter was only we knew what had to be done. I spoke to her in Elvish
"Carmenia, help me get these people moving."
She obliged, and quickly started herding the rest of the group out the exit to get towards fresh air, Finn limping beside her.

Finally we began to move out, and I pushed the group hard, so that we would escape the tunnels before teh other Elves found us. Finally after about 30 minutes or so, which was about half the time it took us to get down there, we were outside, in the fresh air, in the cool, evening breeze.

No sooner were we out, then the scent of cooking meat assailed our nostrils. We quickly found the Elven camp, and I went to find the leader of the camp.
I walked to the center of the camp, where the fire was, (and I saw Ursa and Alden) and declared in Elven
"I must speak wiht your leader!"
After a few minutes, and hushed chatter, the leader of the camp came forward to meet me. I recognized him immediately. I didn't know his name, but I know that he was behind my parents' murder, and that the usurper had blood on his hands.
"What can I do for you, brother Elf?" He asked, quite pompously.
"My freinds and I are in dire need of food and shelter. Can you help us?" I asked. He replied
"Of course, sit by my fire and you can sleep in our spare tents" He called an order to an orderly, who fetched the things we desired. Soon my anger got to the better of me, but I didn't show it. Centuries of training had drilled into my head what had to be doen, and how to best accomplish it.
"What is your name, Sir, that I may know who our thanks is due," I said, nonchalantly.
"I am Halin Norovir, steward of the Elven Crown," he said. I raised my eyebrow ever so slightly.
"Norovir...but the Norovir family was murdered in cold blood and their only son died too, how can you be a Norovir?"
"How do you know what happened to the Norovirs, brigand, and who are you to question my authority?" He bellowed. "Were I you, I would learn my place"
"Who am I?" I repeated quietly, rising to my full height.
"I am Valin Norovir, son of the murdered Ithrindir Norovir, King of the Elves, Goblin Slayer, Bane of Orcs and Duregar, scourge of the Djinn, Protector of the Weak, True Heir to the Elven Kingdoms. THAT is who I am"
His eyes widened to twice their natural size. He gased,
"L...li..little VALIN? You're Alive?? But, I...I thought..." He sputtered incoherently.
"Yes, I am alive and well, no thanks to YOU," I said, drawing my sword. "And YOU, sir, are a traitor" I said, closing distance on him.
"No, no, please...no, you must understand!" He cried, pleading for his life.
"Begging won't save you, traitors. You know what happens to traitors when they die? They go directly to the ninth hell, to be tortured by Draiccath." I said. Those were the last words he ever heard, as I rammed my sword through his abdomen with a quick thud against the tree he had backed up against.
The rest of the camp, including my freinds who had travelled with me, looked at me in shock.

(OOC: Sorry I've been so absent recently, I've had computer trouble last night, and today I worked a double)

Ursa and Alden left the elven camp.

"Ursa, I have a problem. My jewel has been growing."

"How's that a problem?"

"It's getting heavier and bigger."

"So ditch it," Ursa said.

"You kidding?"

"Then stop complaining about it." The two kept walking.

"How far is it to Sedgeley?" Alden asked.

"Maybe a day or two. Why?"

"I just realized the others don't have the horses we started with."

"That's their problem."

"I think we can solve it though. There is a company of men to the North, I could get a detachment of men and some extra horses to pick them up. What do you think?"

"Whatever."

"I'll meet you in Sedgeley then," Alden said. He built up speed and took flight. He circled Ursa once, before heading North towards the frontier.

The other elves turned to run, but I met them half way.

I recognized and noted their reaction to the Runes upon my face as one of relief, not fear.

"Going somewhere, friends?" I asked lightly. They visibly relaxed, and one even smiled. They went for the swords and began to turn back to face Valin.

One of them said over his shoulder: "Glad you showed up, Priest--Norovir's back and-" The fool thought I was one of the Priesthood of Bane, did he...

I grinned and unsheathed my blade. Taking a step forward, I rammed the sword through the elf's back, where is severed his spinal cord, nicked a rib, then shot through his chest in a gout of blood. Without chcnging the lion's grin on my face, I pulled the blade fro his back, letting him collapse to the ground then looked to the two remaining elves.

"I suggest you remove your weapon belts...and have a seat. You're sorely mistaken of with whom you speak." I was tempted to kill them both, anyway.

They looked at each other a moment, then plopped down on the ground without another word.

I glanced at Valin, who was looking at me curiously.

"What? He went for his blade," I said.

"Nothing, my friend. Let us see what the corpses may tell us, now..." With that, my companion knelt down and began to go through the false Norovir's belongings.

"Finn, Carmenia--tie these two up. Sirloaz, Henry...keep an eye on them," I said, in the voice that was still not my own.

I spat on our captives, then laughed.

"Traitors have no place in this land."

I withdrew my sword from his abdomen as he crumpled onto the ground, sputtering his last breaths before death took him.

I then stood up, flicked the blood off the blade of my sword and said, loud enough for all present to hear:

"If you value your lives, you will stay where you are."

I then bent down to search the body of the traitor. Of course, he was too stupid (or perhaps, smart) to carry anything of any real value. Just some leaves, which I stole, and a scroll with what appeared to be a diary, or a mission log of some sort.

"Seraph...come here, quickly," I said. Seraph quickly plodded over to me to see what was up.

"Look at this," I said, lifting a torch near to it, so that he could see clearly, as it was getting dark fast. "It looks like it is some kind of mission log or diary of some kind. Have Carmenia read it for you"

Seraph quickly plodded off towards Carmenia, and they began to decipher the scroll. I, however, went first towards the cooking meat, and took a large portion for myself. It was the first time I'd had real food in a very long while, and took my time savoring it and enjoying it.

Finally, when it started to get late, I walked over to the bound traitors, who, by the looks of it, had been "roughed up" a little bit by Henry adn Company. Not that I cared. I spit on them.

"Henry, separate them for me, one over there, by that tree," I said, pointing to a large tree a few hundred paces away, "and the other will stay here. Then you should go get some food and sleep," I said, smiling towards him in gratitude. This was the first time I'd remembered ever doing so, but it was not a fake smile for show--it was genuine. I then turned to Finn and said

"Its getting late, Finn, I'll help you over to the fire, for you to eat and perhaps get some sleep."

She placed her arm around me, and we hobbled over to where the fire and food was, so she could get a bit of both, if she so chose.

"Than' ye Valin," she said.

I walked over to where Seraph was squatting with Carmenia, trying to decipher the traitors handwriting, and said

"Seraph, time to interrogate the prisoners"
Seraph jumped up, a gleam in his eye that was rather odd for me. He'd always been one for justice, but never one for....what I was about to do.

Together, we walked over towards teh first one, over by the large tree. He said nothing to even acknowledge our presence. I knelt down so that eye was eye-level with him.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, and I know that you accuse US of treason, yet are affiliating with the enemy now"

"What are you talking about?"

He didn't say anything.

"Answer me!"

He bit his lip, and said nothing.

I was beginning to lose my patience. I smacked him across the face.

"What did you mean when you said that, traitor?"

He said nothing.

I began hitting him harder, and more frequently. Still, he said nothing.

Finally, I lost my patience, killing the Elf, defenseless and bound. And Seraph did nothing to stop me, which I also thought was a bit odd. Although, many things were odder than normal lately, so I didnt really pay it any mind.
We finally walked back to the other one after a couple hours working the first one over.

I began the same way, beginning face to face asking if he knew who I was. He answered with an answer I never thought I'd hear:

"Hello, fatty"

It was a friend of mine from when I was very young and being raised by my uncle in Tor Arcana. I hadn't seen him in millenia, but he KNEW the truth, and it hit me hard.

"Hello bones. What are you doing here, with these traitors?"

"These TRAITORS as you call them, are defending the Elven realms from the enemy whom you would rather galavant with than your own kind"

"My own kind tried to kill me, if you remember, Bones. Multiple times, and I had to flee to the Human lands to protect myself. Who is this enemy you speak of?"

"Bones" lowered his voice so that only I, and Seraph, could hear.

"The Humans. They are plotting to destroy the Elven realm to claim it for their own barbarian expansion! Thats why they destroyed the weave!"

"What are you talking about?"

"The Priesthood has told the Council that the Humans destroyed the Weave so that they can wage war on the elves so they can turn the 'twilight of the elves' into the 'dusk of the elves' if you get my drift." He said in hushed tones.

He continued, saying, "The council raised an army to strike first. We just razed a human shire called Sedgeley because they hold the Tome of Arcana in their graveyard, we know they do, but they wouldn't cooperate."

"But why are you listening to the Council? You know they don't deserve the power they have!"

"That is in the past, Valin. They hold the power, until you decide to grace us with your presence once again," that was laden with heavy sarcasm, and he continued "I need to protect our people, because SOME people, won't"

By the time Valin had me seated by the fire, I was utterly exhausted. Traveling on a sprained ankle, even with help, was no mean feat, after all. The wind and the light (even though it was dim as evening deepened) did something to revive me, though, and the meat helped even more. While Henry lay down and went to sleep, I found myself more awake, and too happy to be out of the caves to want to waste time sleeping. I wiggled into a more comfortable position, gently stretching my sore ankle so the muscles wouldn't freeze up, and sat back to watch the others. Valin was having some sort of discussion with the last living elf.

I looked up as Carmenia approached me, her hair still mussed. She helped herself to the meat and sat down beside me. "How is your ankle?" she asked between delicate bites. She even ate like a lady. I shifted uncomfortably.

"Wud'n too bad a sprain," I shrugged. "Can' do much wif'out 'elp as o' yet, bu' I should be limpin' 'long on me own by t'morrow even."

She nodded, neatly finished the meat (somehow without getting a spot of its juices anywhere on her face or clothes) and then turned to me. "Turn around, Finn." I blinked. "Turn around," she repeated, her voice laughingly stern. "This has been bothering me for a while...."

Suspiciously, I shifted so that my back was to her, and jumped when I felt something brush the back of my hair. She hushed me. "Calm down, Finn. Honestly, you could be quite pretty if you tried... and if you didn't scowl so much."

I muttered something incomprehensible as she combed her fingers through my hair, then began to pull it back into a tidy plait. After a moment, she hesitated. "No, I think you should leave it down for now. Such a pretty color...."

"Wha' d'ye wan', Carmenia?"

She seemed surprised. "What?"

"Wha' d'ye wan'? Why're you 'ere?"

She glanced around the camp, looking suddenly stricken and uncertain. I'd only meant to ask her why she was being so friendly towards me, and what she expected in return for that kindness; it seemed she'd interpreted it otherwise. I turned back towards her, shifting myself delicately, and without asking she reached for my ankle and began to probe it carefully. I winced. "You're right," she said without answering my question. "I doubt you'll be scaling any mountains, but by tomorrow evening you'll be walking on your own, though I wouldn't expect to be too graceful about it."

Henry had dutifully done as Valin had said, because the Elf had finally done it without a patronising tone, and he felt like he was being treated as an equal.

Now, as he bit into the tasty meat, he looked over at the dead body Valin had pummelled into destruction. Henry didn't agree with it, but he knew the Elves had done something truly bad. Something in Seraph's eye and Valin's look told him everything he needed to know, even though he couldn't hear them anymore.

Henry yawned.

The stiffness in his side had returned, and he realised it had been almost a full day since he had last slept. So much had happened since then, some of it he would wish he could forget. Dreams could take them away. He lay down, covering himself in a blanket, his finger curling round the grip of his crossbow as he faded into his escapist fantasies.

Halin is dead," the shorter of the figures said to the taller.

"Good riddance. The fool thought he could hope to kill Norovir, when the prince was surrounded by those companions of his," the taller answered, peering into the large pool of water, whose reflection showed the area Valin and the others had chosen as their camping grounds.

"If the fools that traveled with Halin knew anything, that information will now be Norovir's, Lord."

"Indeed."

"Should I dispatch the Marauders?"

"No...not yet. My son...Sirloaz...is among them. His secret may be fatal to them."

"Your...son? Magus...I did not know--"

"Be gone."

"Yes, milord."

The shorter figure walked away as he larger continued to gaze into the scrying pool, which was now focusing on the ranger, who was busying himself by sharpening his daggers and checking his bowstring.

"I know...that you could no stay away for long, my son. Soon...I will have my Demon back at my side."

The man put his hands on the rim of the pool, revealing them in an eerie blue light. Tattoos of the purest black traced his fingers and up his hand, constantly shifting, as if snakes had embedded themselves in his flesh.

"And you, Seraph Belfast...traitor...your blood will stain my blade, soon enough."

He's back, the demon Sirloaz thought shivering slightly resting his head against the trunk of the tree. That damned priest, the torture lasted for what seemed an eternity. He should have stayed out of my mind, yet he awoke that memory. His thoughts carrying him back to that one snowy day.

A young Sirloaz age of 16, playing in the snow with his adopted little brother and sister aged 8 and 3. His sister sat in the snow watching gleefully as the snow drifted down upon her, speckling her auburn hair with small flecks of white. Young Sirloaz attempting to build a small snowman with his brother, and when it fell they began throwing hand fulls of snow at each other, when out of nowhere 4 horsemen came trotting towards the small village, clearly drunk.

"John take joseline to the woods, and stay there, you know where to hide, I'm going to father" Sirloaz said struggling through the snow as it began to snow and rain at once. Upon reaching his small house in which he was raised he called out "Father!".

"Yes, Sirloaz" His adoptive father said, stooping to fit his tall frame through the door way.

"four horsemen, on the outskirts of the village, they look like they could be trouble" he said urgently.

"And you're brother and sister?"

"Hiding, in the grove"

"Good boy, lets go have a look shall we?" his father said while strapping on a short sword. His father was an traveler who had settled down to a quiet life when his friends were killed on one of their journeys.

They walked out of the house only to have the horsemen right in front of them, laughing in their drunken stupor. "What brings out to Arlenhiemen friend?" His father asked his hands near his sword lest anything go wrong.

"dwaahht? whooos d'o ya tink yous are talk'n ta ushh that waysh?" one of the rider's said drawing his sword.

"No need for that here, we are but peaceful farmers, the problems of the south do not bother us here" Sirloaz's father said sternly his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"We dun careshh whos you's arsh, ush dun kilt joo" the rider said as him and his companions surrounded Sirloaz's father, as Sirloaz looked upon the scene frozen.

Then they attacked, his father whipping out his sword spun around parrying the blows in an amazing display of agility and speed, yet he was not the young man he was when he once traveled the continent. As he was cut on the back of his left leg, the others seeing an opening charged in. His father reacting quickly slashed the throat of one and stabbed another through the heart, yet his sword got stuck in the ribcage. He turned looked the leader in the eye as the other man's sword struck home through his skull, killing Sirloaz's father instantly.

The village just stood there staring at the spectacle, Sirloaz's father killed outright, in the center of the small village. Tears began to tumble down Sirloaz's face as his eyes clouded over. The two remaining men turned away and began walk in no general direction. Sirloaz dashing up to his father's dead form, took a dagger from his belt, and slowly began to walk up to the men. His feet making no sound, as the rain poured down. Then sprinting up he shove the small blade through one of the mens' spine, as he fell to the ground twitching, Sirloaz reached for the other's throat and began to squeeze.

With the last rider's final gasp Sirloaz stood shaking and then began to laugh, his eyes black and burning, as he stalked towards the town, raised his blade and..

"NO!" he screamed into the darkness as he quickly sat up from the tree sweat pouring down his face his eyes wide with fear. The fire had burned down to coals, the slight glow reflecting off the form of his sleeping companions. Sirloaz laid his head in his hands and thought It was that priest... through his torture he had brought up that memory, the one that haunts my dreams; releasing, the demon.