The March of the Rose
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2015 by R22CoolGuy

The Gutted Merchant, an inn in Thebes, Andor. Current time.

Graydon and Tristan spent a quiet, undisturbed night in the 'Gutted Merchant' and were up at dawn and ready for the day. They enjoyed a quick breakfast in the dining hall before bidding the innkeeper good day. The innkeeper responded with a good riddance and a command to never darken the doorway of his establishment again. Tristan just smiled and shook his head while leading Graydon toward another inn closer to their departure gate. They arrived at the 'Pious Satyr' which Graydon remarked upon.

"Who comes up with these names?" he asked Tristan as they entered the inn's common room.

"That is a realm renowned name with inns in all of the major cities of the five realms," Tristan replied looking for his contact. "The 'Pious Satyr' is the place to be in any city."

"I do not see them here," he remarked to Graydon as he approached the innkeeper.

"Excuse me, I am looking for some friends of mine and I do not see them here," Tristan explained. "Perhaps you can help me?"

"What do they look like?" the innkeeper asked, with a bored tone of voice.

Tristan described the young woman and her father and the innkeeper remarks that they had been there, but had left the day before yesterday. The innkeeper explained that the two had left in the company of hired men-at-arms and were headed toward the eastern gate, but did not know their ultimate destination. Tristan slipped him two silver pieces and thanked him for the information and the two left the inn.

"What now?" Graydon asked, as he followed Tristan.

"He still owes me for half of the contract money," Tristan explained. "The hermit I told you about has a small cottage about a half-days journey before Loudin. After we stop there we make for the city and I will collect the rest of the money owed to me. After that we will head in whatever direction the old hermit suggests."

Tristan led the two toward Thebe's eastern gates and the road toward Creton, which they would be on for a couple of days before turning south toward Loudin for a week. The attacks started the second night out, before they had turned south. Tristan had just mentioned that they needed to be looking for a place to camp for the night when the smell of brimstone caused him to stop mid-sentence.

"What is that smell?" he asked looking around.

Graydon shrugged, and then instantly became alert when he felt a nagging feeling come over him. His horns began to glow an inky black, and an itch began just at the base of his neck.

"Graydon! Why are your horns glowing black?" Tristan asked, before spinning around to the sound of a 'pop'.

A demon had just materialized behind them. A DEMON!! Three more 'popped' in, forming a semi-circle in front! They were surrounded by denizens of Hell! They were about four feet high, bat faced with fangs. They had leathery wings as well as a spiked tail, and were all black in color except for their beady red eyes. Each demon was brandishing a different weapon.

"Half-Spawn, your time on this plane has just come to an end," one of the demons declared in a croaking voice before all four attacked.

"Take the rear, I will deal with what is in front," Graydon commanded before engaging the three in front.

Tristan nodded and advanced on the rear demon, who was brandishing a wicked looking trident. He drew both his rapier, which was enchanted to glow bluish-silver in the presence of a magical enemy, and his dagger, which was also enchanted to do damage on entities that ordinary weapons could not. The demon swung his tail up and forward, revealing a nasty looking barb, dripping a clear substance -poison!

"Be careful, Graydon, they are poisonous," Tristan hollered out while ducking a strike by the tail.

The two combatants slowly circled each other, fainting with their weapons to test the defense of the other. The demon struck first, thrusting with his trident trying to catch the blade of the rapier. Tristan reacted quickly and slashed with his dagger, racking the back of the demon's hand that was clutching the haft. The demon lunged forward, thrusting the trident toward Tristan's chest while striking with the barbed tail. Tristan jumped back, sweeping the trident to the side with his parrying dagger, and bracered wrist while simultaneously bringing the rapier up and across his body, blocking the downward strike of the barbed tail. The force of the tail attack hitting his sword reverberated throughout Tristan's arm. The trident was pushed aside to Tristan's right but still caught Tristan's cloak, fouling within the material. The demon jerked the trident back almost causing Tristan to lose his balance. Once again they circled each other looking for an opening.


Graydon barreled into his attackers, sending the middle demon sprawling to the ground, and engaged the other two. The axe went slicing through the air and then slicing through the striking tail of the demon to his right. He then reached out with his gauntleted hand and grasped the demon to his left by the throat, squeezing tightly. He lifted the demon high into the air, shaking it back and forth, and then threw him over his back and into a tree to Tristan's left. The demon that was in the middle tried to get up but Graydon stomped down with his right foot crushing his skull. With an inky 'pop' the demon fled the plane and was gone. He concentrated on the tailless demon to his right, re-grabbing the haft of the axe and bringing it up to block the swing of the demon's flail. The chain and ball wrapped around the upper portion of the haft and Graydon, seeing an opportunity, jerked his axe up and back to his right. The demon's arms shot forward, still attached to the handle of the flail, pulling it off-balance. Graydon let go of his axe with his right hand and brought his fist down hard on top of the demon's head, driving the skull through the shoulder blades and crushing the spine. The demon 'popped', disappearing from the plane in a smoky blackness. Graydon quickly turned to where he had thrown the other demon.


Tristan knew he was overmatched due to the type of weapon he was using. The rapier was just not the right type for this style of fighting, it did not have the blade strength to block the demon's weapon for very long. Truth be known, Tristan tried to avoid direct conflicts, preferring to use stealth and surprise, neither of which would be useful in this engagement. The parrying dagger was actually better at blocking and slashing, so Tristan looked for an opening where he could turn the battle to his favor. The demon was just not providing him with an opportunity to end this. It was adept with the trident and kept trying to disarm Tristan with it. Tristan danced just out of the thrusting reach of the weapon, hoping the demon would stumble because of overreaching. There it was; the opening he was looking for!

Tristan was continuing to move to his right causing the demon to pivot while thrusting. The off-balance movement caused the denizen of Hell to overextend itself, momentarily losing its balance. Tristan pounced, pushing the trident down with his rapier, while stepping inside of the demon's defense, and then stabbing it in the throat with his dagger. The demon looked at Tristan with shock while its eyes slowly blinked in surprise before disappearing in an inky black smoke.


Graydon turned to where the demon had been thrown and quickly advanced before it could get its wits about it. The demon leaped to its feet and brandished a long shafted morning star, moving it back and forth. Graydon dodged the head of the weapon, staying away from the deadly spikes. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Tristan had just dispatched his foe and was coming to his aid. He continued to keep his foe's attention on him as he watched Tristan stalk the demon.


Tristan turned to where Graydon was engaged with a demon, who was wielding a morning star, keeping Graydon at bay. Tristan quietly stalked the demon, approaching from his blindside until he was close enough that the rapier slid into the demon's back easily. An audible 'pop', the smell of brimstone, and the residue of black smoke was all that was left of the final demon.

"That was intense," Graydon declared as he cleaned his axe with some moss.

"Intense?" Tristan barked. "You never said anything about being pursued by demons!"

"Because I did not know," Graydon replied with a shrug. "I do not know why I am being pursued but we will have to be more diligent."

"So, you do not think this was an isolated attack?"

"No, they knew who, or rather what, I am," Graydon replied. "That leads me to believe that more attacks will follow."

"I was thinking that we might find a place to bed down for the night nearby, but maybe we should put some distance between us and here," Tristan remarked and started down the road, not waiting for Graydon's answer.

The two traveled until the setting sun made navigating the road difficult for Tristan and finally deciding to stop for the night. Tristan had found a small knoll just off the road that looked like it had been used as a stopping place by travelers in the past. There was an area tamped down from where bedrolls had been used, and a fire ring that had not been used in some time. All in all it was a perfect spot to spend the night, had it not been for the dark clouds moving down from the north, but still several hours away.

By mutual consent, based in no small part on the events earlier in the day, the decided to take turns watching the camp. Graydon volunteered to take the bulk of the night since he required less sleep than Tristan. Tristan did not argue and took the first watch while Graydon reminded him that he wanted to be up before the witching hour. The first part of Tristan's watch passed without incident and it was still some time before he was supposed to wake Graydon when the advancing storm announced its arrival with a flash of light and crash of sound. Graydon jumped up at the sound of the thunder and they quickly decided to break camp and find a better place to wait out the storm. They doused the fire, shouldered their packs and weighed their options.

"Is there any place close by where we can wait the storm out?" Graydon hollered over the noise of the booming thunder.

"Not for several leagues," Tristan replied. "There are some ruins not far off the road after we make the turn south but I have never actually been in them. Perhaps we could make it there before the storm."

Graydon nodded and started trotting in the direction that Tristan had indicated. Tristan looked around at their camp one last time and started after Graydon.

"Graydon, slow down. I do not have the advantage of your sight."

Graydon nodded again and slowed his pace to one that Tristan could easily match, but was still quick enough that they were putting distance between them and the approaching storm.

They had not been on the road long before Tristan finally called out that their turn was coming up soon. Graydon peered into the night, briefly lit by the advancing lightning, and saw the marker for the road to Loudin. Graydon took the road, turning back to make sure Tristan was still with him and picked up the pace a little. He was pretty sure that they would not reach safety before the storm broke and was already looking for any type of cover.

It seemed like forever before Tristan finally hollered that the pathway to the ruins should be coming up on their left any time now. He was laboring with each passing step and Tristan knew that he would have to stop soon or collapse from exhaustion from the forced march.

Graydon acknowledged Tristan's directions and began scanning the area for the path, but he was not prepared however, for the white shining light off in the distance to his left, or the sound of harps. A beacon, calling him toward it. Graydon slowed and looked around for the source of the harping sound he heard but could not find it. Tristan paused beside him, hands on his thighs, gasping for air, and looked at Graydon oddly.

"What is it?" Tristan asked breathlessly, and then pointed toward a path. "There is the path I spoke of. Hurry, the storm is almost upon us."

"The storm is already here!" a cold, dead voice bellowed out in front of them.

Tristan pivoted left and looked on in horror! Two large, black winged, reptilian shapes, holding flame-bladed swords and whips of fire, blocked their path! Demon Lords from one of the Planes of Hell!

Graydon's horns began to give off a blood-red light as his eyes began swirling crimson. He struggled to keep the anger that threatened to consume him at bay. These were not bothersome little demons like before; no, these were lords of the underworld and they affected Graydon differently. He concentrated to push the emotions down and make use of them, and then brought his axe up to the ready, noticing for the first time the faint blue-silver glow of the axe blade.

Tristan did not know what to do. He certainly was not strong enough to face a Demon Lord, let alone two. His weapons were enchanted, but he was not sure that the enchantment was strong enough for what he now faced.


Graydon, with no regard to his own safety, waded into the fray, swinging his axe while trying to avoid the sting of the flaming whips. The demons stepped away from each other and engaged the travelers. Graydon gave the one advancing on Tristan only a momentary glance before engaging the one left for him. Hobgoblin war axe crashed into demon enchanted hell blade with a force that knocked both combatants backward away from each other. Graydon reacted quicker and leaped forward swinging the axe downward in a great arc toward the unprotected head of the fiend. The demon raised his sword in protection and again the axe bounced backward from the collision. This time, however, Graydon was more prepared for the force and held his ground.


Tristan found himself face to face with a demon straight from the very pits of Hell. He ducked under the horizontal swing of the demon's sword and hacked at the demon's right leg with his own weapon. The rapier bounced back from the attack leaving nary a scratch to show for the meeting. Tristan rolled to his left out of the demon's direct path, trailing his right hand which held a dagger, trying to hamstring the evil one. The dagger, at least, was somewhat more powerful than the blade, for it left a scratch across the back of the demon's leg. Not much to show for the initial engagement, and that truly worried Tristan.

The Demon Lord turned on Tristan and swung his sword downward in an arc straight for Tristan's head, intending to cleave the thief in two. Tristan sprung forward from his crouched position away from the sword and turned to face the fiend once more. The demon spun around, lashing out with his flaming whip, encircling Tristan's rapier, and then jerked back, disarming the thief, who backpedaled looking for an avenue of escape.


Graydon's second attack fared much better than his first. He focused more on the demon than its sword, which he deduced correctly, had some magical way to repel his axe. This engagement he tried a different tactic and swung low for the legs, forcing the demon to react to him. They battled back and forth exchanging blows, which each blocked, or parried, while looking for an opening in the others defense to end the battle. After several exchanges Graydon was forced to admit that he was battling his equal and quite possibly his better, and the battle could turn against him at any moment.

The sound of a trumpet behind Graydon was his salvation, for at that moment the Demon Lord looked to Graydon's right in shock. Graydon wasted no time and swung the axe straight at the massive thigh of the hell spawn, cleaving through muscle, tendon, and bone. The demon began to fall to its left and Graydon giving it no opportunity to correct its fall, followed up the attack, bringing the axe up into the air, reversed its direction, and brought the axe head diagonally down into the top of the shoulder of the demon and deep into its chest. In a flash of inky blackness, and smell of brimstone, the Demon Lord was gone. Graydon turned to see how Tristan was faring with his opponent and stopped dead in his tracks. Standing before him were two warriors of the Angelic Host!


Tristan continued backing up, giving ground to the advancing demon when he felt a shiver as if stepping through a cold mist. A trumpet sounded around him caused him to stop. Tristan did not realize it, but he had just stepped onto holy ground, holy ground protected by two angelic warriors!

"Do you require sanctuary?" a voice boomed out.

"Yes!" Tristan screamed out in desperation, not truly understanding the question.

Two beings materialized on either side of Tristan causing him to shield his eyes from the blinding white light. The Demon Lord screamed in anguish as two warriors of the Angelic Host, angels, appeared before it.

"My, my, my, Truloc, you are certainly far from home," the angel to Tristan's left proclaimed. "It is time for you to return there."

"This does not concern The Host, Uriel," Truloc, the demon lord, spat out. "You have no business here."

"Oh, on the contrary, we do," the second angel replied. "This mortal is on holy ground and has requested sanctuary. That makes it the business of The Host."

"And to further amplify our position, Truloc, you have also crossed a holy threshold and therefore are trespassing," Uriel added. "Or in your haste to dispatch this mortal did you not feel it?"

 
There is more of this chapter...

To read this story you need a Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In or Register (Why register?)

Close