[NaNoWriMo] Untitled as yet!

[theshirn]

Yeah I'm putting mine up, mock away, etc.  Putting it in piecemeal.


Hell.

It wasn?t quite typical to the average person?s conception of it.  There were no winged devils prodding people with pitchforks, no seas of fire, no wailing of the damned (or at least not too much of it).  The walls were not cavernous pillars, the roof was open to the skies above, which were a familiar blue.  At a glance, it didn?t look all that different from the real world.

But Hell it was nonetheless.  The people there were there for punishment after the lives they had lived, ostensibly to purify their souls.  While they had formed a rough sort of community, it was only out of need for something familiar, and the same crimes that had damned them to their torment here continued to make their lives miserable.

Which was perfect.  Hell, it turned out, was a grand sort of sweet shop for the demons that ran it.  They fed off the hate, the fear, and the anger of those imprisoned, each to their own kind.  When a soul had reached redemption, the demons could tell simply by the fact that it no longer provided nourishment for them.  Of course, the demons would keep them around and torture the souls themselves, except that it was banned by the whole arrangement itself.  Seeing as the deal meant that the demons basically had a permanent 12-course buffet at all times, and they were never satiated, none of them really wanted to disrupt the system anyway, and any who went rogue would be swiftly dealt with by his compatriots.

It drove Valraden absolutely nuts.

Valraden was an unusual sort, even among demons.  He was a demon of hatred, but didn?t seem to embody his aspect like the vast majority of the denizens of Hell.  Valraden was calm, rational and prone to laughing at things the other demons couldn?t comprehend, and then laughing all the harder at them.  Many of them whispered that Valraden wasn?t actually a demon, but an official in disguise from Above sent to oversee the operation.  More than once they?d tried to off him.  It hadn?t worked.  Valraden may not have been an avatar of hatred, but he was adept at feeding off it and was one of the stronger and more skilled demons, and as the demonic society was nearly as vicious and chaotic as those they claimed to own, he?d learned to protect himself quite fiercely.

Yet the whole picture gnawed at him.  Valraden knew that there had to be some reason for the whole setup, but curiosity wasn?t exactly encouraged in Hell, or Ssishak, as the demons called it.  He prided himself on his clarity of vision, but at the same time grew bored with the same affair over and over.  Hatred was easy enough to foster and feed off of, but the stagnation left Valraden banging his head against the walls more than once, and sometimes literally.

Of course, demons sometimes left Ssishak.  There were two ways to do so: through a pact, or on one?s own.  A mortal summoning a demon and forming a pact with them was a common enough experience (from Valraden?s extended point of view, anyway), but severely limited the demon?s actions in the mortal realm, and tied his time there to the summoner?s whim and continued existence.  It was easy enough for most of them to keep the mortals hooked on their power; the second point, though, proved to be much stickier.  People who dabbled in demonology tended not to last very long, which made Valraden question the whole point of the matter ? another enigma to toss onto the pile.

The second method ? leaving of one?s own accord ? allowed a demon much greater freedom to exercise his power, but was rarely taken.  For one thing, it was forbidden by the accord that kept the whole arrangement going.  For another, a demon on his own had to obtain sustenance for himself, and while Valraden was a little hazy on the details, it seemed that there was a sort of damper in the mortal world that severely restricted the ability to feed.

But these were details that a cunning demon could work his way around, and Valraden was nothing if not cunning.  Standing at nearly seven feet tall, Valraden sported a huge pair of batlike wings from his shoulder blades and a set of slightly curved horns that tapered to vicious points.  He usually kept himself dressed, and impeccably so ? another oddity, as most demons were content to run naked or just conjure up something willy-nilly.  Valraden sneered at them for being uncultured.  He tended to wear a tightly cut outfit, mostly in black and red, and he cut an imposing figure in it.

For now, though, it would have to go.  Valraden sighed as he dismissed the material back into raw thaumic energy, or Nir, and left himself only in a ragged shift.  A little work of illusion and shifting later, and he appeared simply as an extremely tall human beggar.  He stretched and yawned, quietly, and then picked up a small bundle from the ground.  This was the tricky part.  Timing, timing, it was all about patience and timing.

With practiced care (Valraden grinned at that turn of the phrase), he drew a narrow slash in the Nir and tossed the bundle at it.  Before it could fly through, he caught it with another weave of energy, moved it about two inches to the left, and slowly let it drop.  A drop of sweat trickled down the side of his face as he guided the bundle towards its destination.

Abruptly he stopped and made three quick slashing motions with his hands in different directions.  The bundle flew apart, the aura surrounding it vanished, and the contents slipped noiselessly into the dimensional gap.  At the same time, another gap opened parallel to it.  Valraden swore under his breath, looked over his shoulders, and dived into the new one, just before both snapped shut.

[theshirn]

Valraden opened his eyes and looked upon the mortal world.  It didn?t feel all that different, which was probably a good thing, all things considered.  A quick look around confirmed that he?d dropped where he intended: under a small outcropping of rock near one of the mortal towns.  He stretched longingly, one last time, before assuming the hunched back he?d use as his disguise.  It was painful to keep to for long, but he?d survive.  Evening?s shadows had already made their way into town, slinking down alleyways and darting around torchlit plazas.  It was just about the right timing.

The demon shuffled over to the gate, which was closed, and rapped on it with a branch he?d picked up.  After a few moments, a small hatch in the door opened up and a weather-beaten face grimaced suspiciously at him.

?What??

?Please, masser,? Valraden wheezed, ?please let a poor beg?r in.?

The gate guard narrowed his eyes.  ?It?s after nightfall an? the gate?s closed, an? I don?t see any reason to be openin? it for the likes of you.?

?Oh please, sir,? Valraden said pitifully.  ?There?s fell things about, sir, I can?t stay out here!?  As if on cue, a howl rose up in the night behind him.

The guard grumbled for a moment.  ?Oh...very well, very well!  Just wait a moment.?  The guard went back into the gatehouse and rummaged around, probably for the keys, he reasoned.  Valraden shivered.  The spell should be warding that off as well, but something felt wrong, and it wasn?t the world he was in now.  He could feel something watching him, watching and waiting, and it unnerved him.  And anything that could unnerve a demon, Valraden had no intention of meeting.

He swore under his breath again.  What was taking the blasted guard so long?  Finally, the footsteps moved back to the gate, and the lock rattled around for a moment before yielding.  The guard opened the gate and stepped aside.  ?Now in with you, you...?  The guard?s jaw dropped and he pointed at something over Valraden?s shoulder.  ?Wha-what the bloody hell is that?!?

Valraden spun ? too fast, too fast, damn it, keep your movements slow! ? only to have his jaw drop the same as the guard?s had.  A towering figure stood around a hundred feet away, engulfed in flames, and surrounded by at least twenty massive wolves, each nearly the size of a pony.  The demon shrieked and ran past the guard, but even as he passed him, the figure snuffed out and disappeared into the night.  ?What was that, sir??  Valraden let his voice tremble, didn?t bother to conceal the fear he felt.  That was what had watched him, but what was it?  And why was it waiting for him?  Because waiting it was ? Valraden didn?t believe in coincidences.

The guard slammed the gate shut and locked it.  ?I don?t know, and don?t want to.  Just you get inside and forget about all of this!?  And with that, the guard staggered back to the gatehouse.

Valraden shivered again, and quickly rechecked all his spells.  They held.  Good.  He still only had a limited time, though, so he moved on, into an alleyway.  The demon followed them along, looking, searching for something.  This isn?t going according to plan.  Maybe I should just back out now and try again another time.  But Valraden knew there wouldn?t be another time, possibly not for hundreds of years, if at all.  He had to move, and quickly.

He straightened up in the alley and began moving in earnest, covering large stretches of ground with every step.  Primal instinct took over, and Valraden followed where it led, running with his eyes nearly shut.  He came to a sudden stop, panting, and looked around.  This is...an orphanage?  You?ve got to be kidding.  He eased up the steps, silently, and listened at the door for a moment.  It was quiet.  They probably put the brats to bed once night falls to save on candles.  The demon sighed, then tried the door.  It was locked.

Valraden swore, one more time, and lifted an arm.  He had to trust himself, or there was no point to the whole venture.  He breathed in, quietly, and punched the door.

The flimsy door tore right off its hinges and smashed to the ground, but Valraden was already moving.  Light erupted into the dingy orphanage as every candle in the place burst alight as one.  He moved with incredible speed from room to room as frightened children squinted at the sudden light and noise, taking the opportunity to refresh himself.  Whoever thought that children had no negative emotions to feed off of clearly remembered little of their own childhood.  While fewer children ended up in Hell, that was usually because their actual crimes tended to remain on the smaller scale.  The emotions that demons fed off of, though, ran just as powerfully ? if not more so ? in their younger victims.

It also quickened his pace considerably, as he could tell where all the children were just from the muted hatred each of them held.  He tore down the hallway, going room by room, but coming up with nothing but more children.  Valraden began to grow desperate ? he was nearly out of time, as he ran into another room with only one child.

Wait.

One child?  Orphanages never put only one child in a room.  If there was an overflow, they?d jam the kid in another room until they got roommates for them.  Valraden stopped.

There she was.  The other occupant of the room sat on her bed, blinking owlishly at the demon in the doorway.  A girl, maybe ten years of age.  Could it be her?

No.  It was impossible.  All the signs were wrong.  And he was out of time.  He could feel the convoluted weave around himself starting to unravel.  Damn it all!  The demon rose to his full height and glared at the girl, who just stared back at him.

?Will you come with me??  What the hell am I thinking?!  Valraden berated himself.  Where had that come from?  But even more surprising was the girl?s reaction.

She nodded.  Nodded, and reached out a hand.

Valraden suppressed an insane giggle, reached out, and took it, just as the Nir snapped back around him.  There was a blinding flash of light, and the orphanage was suddenly dark and silent once more.

[theshirn]

Mordrenn spun, parried, and took his attacker?s arm off at the elbow.  Blood sprayed as the man fell to the ground and thrashed the rest of his life out.  Mordrenn lowered his blade, grimacing at the blood all over his armor.  At least most of it wasn?t his, he supposed.  The battle was still being fought, but at least they?d pushed most of the attackers back to the river.  Now was the key moment.

?Delrin!?  Mordrenn called.  A moment later, another man came running up and saluted.  ?How did it go??

Delrin nodded.  ?The bridge is already going up, sir.  We lost Denck and Lar setting it, but everyone else at least is alright.?

Mordrenn nodded slowly.  Two more dead.  Damn.  ?Have we managed to push them back??

?They?ve been pinned back into an arc along the river, as per orders, sir.  Your plan worked perfectly.?  The shorter man gestured to the smoke that had begun rising to the west.  ?Now we pound them into dust against the river.?

The captain looked around.  Most of the dead were wearing the blue of the Dyrian army, but far too many Sentari green lay among them.  They?d have a tally later, and he?d have to go through them all.  Some days Mordrenn just wanted to crawl into a hole in the ground and stay there, let someone else fight this damned war that was bleeding his country dry for nothing.

Sentar was not an easy place to live.  Much of the country was a large floodplain, forcing people to make their homes in the hills and mountains.  But landslides were also common in Sentar, and the isolated nature of most of the people meant banditry was a prevalent nuisance as well.  In recent years the country had started to pull itself together, mostly with the advancement of nirite technology and considerable deposits, but this only meant that the neighbors had decided to take the opportunity to invade.  While the Sentari military was fierce and well-armed, it was also small, too small to hold them back for long.  King Alzan was a capable monarch, but he was being worn down by the constant incursions, mostly from Dyre.  Other countries had offered troops and support to repel the menace, but all knew that it was just another way of getting their fingers in the proverbial pie.  So Sentar bled its independence into the ground, day by day.

Well, this day, at least, there would be more than just their blood staining the ground.  Mordrenn nodded to his lieutenants.  ?Get the men in position.  We take them down hard and fast.?  The three nodded and left, and Mordrenn was left alone for a moment.

?Damn.?  He shook his head to clear it.  Adrenaline was all well and good, but sometimes he just felt so tired.  The smoke from the burning bridge, the choking scent of blood, and just plain exhaustion caused him to stagger for a moment.  He caught himself and looked down.  He was supporting himself on one of the corpses of his own men.  Mordrenn shuddered and stood quickly again, but his hand came away bloody nonetheless.  It was an image he knew he would dream of tonight.  ?Damn it all.?

He made his way across the corpse-strewn landscape ? it had been so pleasant a mere few hours ago ? into position with Delrin.  ?Are we ready??

?Say the word, sir.?

Mordrenn closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded.  Delrin nodded to an archer, who nocked and drew a flaming arrow and fired it in one smooth motion.  The arrow burst into a flash of light in the air, and Mordrenn?s men charged as one into the fray.

The Dyrian troops were trapped against the flaming bridge and the river, and were badly outnumbered.  Most tried to fight and were quickly and brutally dispatched.  A few attempted to swim the river and were picked off by archers.  Those that surrendered were disarmed and chained together.  The whole clash took less than five minutes.  Cleanup would take hours.

[theshirn]

?...running low on food as it is, how are we supposed to feed these-?

Mordrenn awoke to the sound of arguing outside, completely disoriented.  What was happening?  Where was he?

?You know the captain won?t like to hear that kind of talk.  We treat prisoners fairly.  We always do.?  The second voice was female, and taut with disapproval.  That would be Jan.  With that, memory clicked back into place.  They had won the battle, but the bridge was destroyed.

?Fairness is all well and good, Jan, but what good does it do us to be fair if we starve?  It?s just another way of winning the war for them, starving us out!?

?Ye can?t be serious,? a third voice interjected.  Roleck, and drunk, by the sound of it.  Mordrenn couldn?t blame him.  ?Are ye actually suggestin? that they?re lettin? us take prisn?rs on purpose??

?That?s...no, but...bloody hell, Roleck, that?s brilliant.?  A scraping sound, someone moving in a chair, perhaps?  ?The point is, prisoners just drain our resources ? resources we don?t have to spare, and you know it.?  Delrin paused.  ?We?re bleeding ourselves dry as is.  We can?t let the prisoners go back, or we?ll just end up fighting them again.  We can?t keep them here, or they?ll eat us bare.  What else can we do?  Come on, Jan, you know I?m right!?

Another pause, then ?And what do you suggest??  Jan replied acidly.  ?Dump them all into the river and hope the captain doesn?t notice??

?Damn it, Jan, don?t be like that.?  Delrin growled.  ?We?ve got to do something here.  I mean, I happen to like and trust Mordrenn, even if you don?t, but just going along with this is going to get all of us killed at this rate.?

?What, then??  Roleck belched.  ?Ye want to maybe cut their eyes out and then send ?em back?  Solves both yer problems right neatly.?

Mordrenn sat up in his bed and winced.  ?How long have I been out??  All three of the lieutenants jumped suitably, and Mordrenn couldn?t stifle a smile at that.

?Sir.  You?ve been asleep for near three hours now.?  Jan was as stone-faced as ever.  She?d be pretty if she ever loosened up, Mordrenn supposed, but the woman was as stiff as the posts holding the command tent up.  She kept her blond hair short and pulled back severely, and her uniform was perfectly crisp, if bloodstained.  Jan was deadly with a short sword, but was more useful to the captain for her sharp, clinical mind.  Unfortunately, it seemed to come with a healthy amount on distaste for some of his ?softer? policies, but Jan was not one for insubordination.  So she would carry out every order to the letter and express disapproval with every line of her body and every word she spoke.  Mordrenn knew he was lucky to have such a capable lieutenant, but no matter what he tried he?d been unable to calm the tension between them, and only let it stand because she didn?t let it interfere with carrying out orders.

?Looks like ye needed it, eh??  Roleck said.  Roleck was a bear of a man from one of the mountain clans on the edge of Sentar and looked every bit the part, with a massive red beard and mane braided with the leather charms of his clan.  He was a hearty man in everything he did: battle, drinking, command, he took to them all with the same huge grin and rumbling roar.  He was an absolute terror with his greataxe, which could tear right through armor and flesh, and more than once Mordrenn had been very glad to be on the same side as the man.  He led by example ? ?by recklessness,? Jan would call it ? but nonetheless remained a source of inspiration for the men.  ?Ye were really wiped durin? that last stretch ? ever Delrin ?ere managed to match ye!?

?As always, your praise overwhelms me,? Delrin said dryly.  The third lieutenant and probably the only real friend Mordrenn had out here on the battlefield, Delrin was short and stocky, and not given to talking much.  Mordrenn knew him from years back, before either of them had made their way into this bloody mess of a war.  Some were put off by his taciturn nature, but the captain trusted Delrin more than anyone else, and the two could often be found playing a game of chess in companionable silence.  ?You all right, sir??

?My head feels like we set fire to it instead of the bridge.  Otherwise, I?ll be fine.?  Mordrenn gestured, and Delrin passed him the wineskin he was holding.  The taller man took a long draught and passed it back.  ?Aaaah...I needed that.?  He breathed in and out, slowly, and looked at each of his lieutenants.  ?Alright.  How bad is it??

?We lost fifty-seven men, including the two at the bridge itself.  Another forty-two are wounded, seventeen seriously.?  Jan rattled off the numbers.  ?Enemy casualties are estimated at four hundred twenty-two-?

?Quite the estimate,? Mordrenn noted dryly.  Jan merely raised an eyebrow at him before continuing.  ?As I was saying, enemy casualties are estimated at four hundred twenty-two on this side of the river, and an unknown but similar amount on the other side.  We also took fifteen of them prisoner, bringing our count up to forty-five.?

Mordrenn pinched the bridge of his nose.  ?Better than I hoped.?

?Yes, sir.?  Jan paused.  ?I would note that our supplies can ill afford to feed additional prisoners at this time, sir.  We may need to consider-?

?We?re not killing them.?

?No, sir.  I was saying that we may need to consider sending them back to one of the cities, where they can both be held in greater security and relieve us the burden of feeding them.  Though that will require a significant detachment to take them.?

Mordrenn nodded.  ?Well, we?ve got some time before they can get over the river.  Pick some men and get on it, Jan.?  The lieutenant saluted.  ?But things are going to get ugly from here.  They?ve got the whole western bank of the river to themselves, now.?

?You know we didn?t have a choice,? Delrin said.

?It?s true, though,? Jan pointed out.  ?Pulling everyone back allowed us to bleed them at the river today, and we?ll fight them along the banks for some time, but Dyre effectively owns everything west of the river now.  They?ll be able to field a larger force now than before.  We?ve won ourselves some time, but not much.  At this rate, Sentar will fall by the end of the year.?

Mordrenn grimaced.  That was the first real estimate Jan had put forward towards how long they had.  She tended to be right.  ?At this rate...?  He trailed off for a moment.  ?So Sentar?s going to have to call in help one way or another, is that it??

?Ye know the King don? like that kind o? talk,? Doleck rumbled.

?Like or not, he may not have much of choice at this rate,? Jan said.  ?Even if no one else decides to try to take a piece of our pie for themselves, we?ll fall just to Dyre within two years at the absolute latest ? and that?s a big if.  We can?t win this one, sir.  Not on our own.?

?Enough,? Mordrenn said, as Doleck opened his mouth to argue.  ?I hear what you?re saying, Jan, but I don?t agree with your assessment.  And...do me a favor and just keep it to yourself, alright?  Morale?s low enough as it is.?  He stretched, wincing at the pain in his shoulders.  ?Anything else, or can I go back to sleep now??

?Well-? Jan began, but was cut off by Delrin.  ?No, sir.  Get some rest...it?ll wait.?  Mordrenn nodded gratefully and stumbled back into his tent, the numbers tumbling around in his already aching head.

Less than a year?  Damn, damn, damn!  What was he supposed to do about it?

[theshirn]

The general slammed his fist on the table.  ?You useless fools!  I ought to have all your heads right now!?  The general was, as always, in a fine temper.  Merik fought to keep a straight face as the burly man?s face flushed redder and redder, making him look like a tomato in uniform.  At least this one wasn?t his fault.

?Sir, with all due respect-? the man next to him began.  Merik winced.  Ouch.  The idiot had just committed suicide.  You didn?t argue with the general when he got in this mood.  General Glikar swelled with fury to his feet, eyes popping in his head, and began roaring a torrent of abuse at the poor fool.

?...and you?re broken to PRIVATE!  Now get the hells out of here and go find something that you won?t screw up!?  The general collapsed into his chair for a moment before turning his glare to the remaining men.  ?Now are any of you lot going to tell me exactly what the hells went down out there today??

Merik fought down the treacherous smile as the silence grew more and more uncomfortable.  Let?s see who breaks first, shall we?  Eventually, one of the men on his left stepped forward.  ?Sir!  The enemy forces laid an ambush around the bridge, sir!  We?re currently still investigating, but it looks like they were able to sneak a small force behind us and set fire to the bridge, trapping our advance guard.  Casualties are still being totaled but look to number near a thousand, sir.?

?A thousand?!?  Glikar hissed.

?Sir!?  Sweat was coursing down the man?s face as he continued.  ?On the other hand, sir, we?ve taken the entire western side of the river!?

?Only two weeks after I expected it!? the general snapped back.  ?Performance on this campaign has been extremely sloppy, and I?ll not have it!  Get out!?

Another one down.  Merik allowed himself the thinnest of smiles.  Working with men like the good general here was hardly difficult; the trick was to avoid attention until you had something to brag about and have a few helpful tidbits of information saved for when you really needed them.  ?I?ve had enough of all this.  You?re all dismissed!?

Merik and the others filed out silently.  He took the time to assess the men that were left; for all that he was capricious, General Glikar had won that position through hard-fought victories and a good sense of command, and he expected the same from those under him.  Merik had only recently been transferred east, along with several others.  Most of the others had already been demoted, so Merik was keeping an eye on the old crowd here, as it were.  None of them really interested him, though. It?s so damn hard to find a decent mind these days.

The opposite commander, though...he fascinated Merik.  He?d been fighting a losing war along this border for months now, but even as he was pushed back he still managed to bleed the Dyrian army for every step they took.  Getting men around to the bridge would have had to be keenly planned and perfectly executed; not many could command that kind of intelligence and loyalty at the same time.  Merik had never bothered with loyalty ? while he knew it had its uses, there never was anyone he felt he could really trust around him, and so he maintained a wall between him and his subordinates at all times, and relied only on his own genius.  It worked for him; Merik was a decorated officer with only victories to his name.  For now, though, Merik was content to let others step forward to take the general?s ire while he watched and learned, watched and learned.  Observation is key.  They say knowing is half the battle.  They?re wrong.

[theshirn]

Mordrenn sat, poking little holes in the table with a knife.  The table was a wonderful hinged contraption that folded up nicely when out of use but was decently sized and perfectly serviceable.  It had been a gift from his mentor, who had retired three years ago.  Mordrenn could only wonder what Yardenn would have done now, as he?d apparently gone wandering after his service and had never returned home.

The table was currently mostly covered with a large, detailed map of the western half of Sentar, and littered with small carved figurines detailing troop positions and movements.  Mordrenn reached out and flicked one of the green pieces over, and stared glumly at it.

They?d held the only major ford in the river for a week, but soon enough the Dyrian forces had simply brought rafts and moved their men across at several points.  Mordrenn didn?t have the forces to guard the entire riverbank, and while they took out several of the rafts mid-crossing, they had lost the ford only yesterday.  Dyrian troops were crossing in earnest now and setting up camp on the eastern bank of the river.  They still had passes to hold in the mountains leading to Hallet and Alzadan, a major city and the capital, but pulling back now meant another large chunk of Sentar ? including some of the most fertile farmland ? would be gone.

This of course was unacceptable to the High Command, so Mordrenn had been ordered to repel them from the ford.  He wondered briefly if any of his men would survive the next week before shaking his head.  Thoughts like that did you no good out in the field.

?What are we supposed to do now?? he mumbled.

?Carry out orders, Mor,? a voice replied.  Mordrenn jumped in his chair.

?Del!  Where?d you come from??  Even with the accusing tone, Mordrenn couldn?t hold back a smile.  Delrin always did that; snuck up on him without warning and answered his spoken thoughts.  It was a small but comforting gesture, and Mordrenn latched onto the familiarity of it as Delrin pushed his way through the flap on the tent, carrying a steaming cup of tea.

?I figured you could use this,? the stocky man said as he handed it over.  Mordrenn gratefully accepted the cup and took a sip.  Black tea, no sugar.  Delrin always did know him best.  ?What?s it look like??

The captain gestured at the map.  ?Del, old friend, I don?t know if we can do this.  What they want from us...?  Mordrenn indicated the river.  ?There?s just too many of them for us to take on in open combat, and they?re going to have sentries posted to high hell after our gambit at the bridge.  There?s no way we?ll get away with another surprise attack or anything like that.?

Delrin grunted in assent.  He moved over to the table and began fiddling with a few of the figurines.  ?So if force and surprise are out...?  He moved two of the green pieces over, placing them on opposite sides of the blue block by the river.

?All that?s left is technique??  Mordrenn smiled wryly.  Quoting textbook tactics; Del must really be worried.  Everyone was.  They knew exactly how bad the odds were.  It was a testament to Mordrenn?s leadership and the men?s dedication that there had been almost no desertions.  Still, morale was in the pits, and sinking lower with every Dyrian soldier that crossed the river and every foot of Sentar they took.  Mordrenn shook his head again and focused on Delrin?s movements.

The lieutenant had set his forces catching the enemy troops at the ford in a classic pincer movement.  The majority of the troops were in the northern wing, which was actually placed closer to the camp.  Mordrenn frowned.  ?Whatever happened to the ?hammer and anvil???

?Normally that?d work, but normally a pincer attack has one of the other two advantages to it ? force or surprise.  We?re probably not going to have either with a conventional tactic, but...? Delrin shifted the green pieces slightly.  ?If we change the placement and order a bit...?

?Yes, but...Del, you know the whole point is to smash the hammer against the anvil.  We?ve barely got forces enough for the maneuver as is; if the sides are uneven they can just swarm the smaller side, and...?  Mordrenn trailed off, looking at the map again.  ?Wait...?

Delrin raised an eyebrow questioningly at the captain, who looked back at him with a spreading smile and said, ?Del, old friend, I think I might just know how to pull this off...?

[theshirn]

The lieutenant sat in the tent after Mordrenn had left, looking at the map, deep in his own thoughts.  Mordrenn was making his rounds among the men, something he always did.  He never appreciated how rare that was, and how simple gestures like that earned him the respect and admiration of his men.  Delrin rummaged in his pocket for a moment, coming up with a battered pipe, which he filled and lit almost mechanically, still staring at the map.  He didn?t see what Mordrenn saw.  He usually didn?t.

Delrin was not a military genius.  He had a decent enough mind for tactics, but he was no genius.  He was also acceptable enough at organization, strategy, and command, but he didn?t really excel at anything.  Yet Mor kept him around, trusted him like no one else, and bounced ideas off him.  Somehow, it worked.  Whatever Delrin brought to the table, it clicked perfectly with Mor, set him off on his wild, crazy schemes that always seemed to save the day.

Most of the time, though, Delrin just worried he was holding his friend back.  He didn?t have Jan?s brilliant analytical mind, or Roleck?s way with people that inspired courage in even the most faint-hearted.  Delrin was average, and he knew it.  What he had going for himself was solidity; providing an unquestioning support for Mor was all he could really do to turn the war around.  That, and fulfilling his duties.

He stared at the map again.  Mor had explained his plan as it came to him.  It looked like it could work.  If it did, they might be able to take the river back, and at the least would seriously wreck the Dyrian camp.  If it didn?t, they might as well hand over the capital to Dyre tomorrow.

Footsteps approached the tent.  Jan, by the sound of them.  Delrin turned as the flap opened and the other lieutenant stepped in.  ?Sir??

?Just me.?  Delrin indicated the map with his pipe.  ?Captain had an idea.?

?Took him long enough,? Jan snapped as she walked ? no, stalked ? over to the table.  ?Well??

?Well, what??

?Don?t bait me right now, Delrin!?  Jan almost yelled.  ?I didn?t come here for you to play your idiotic little games and blow smoke in my face, I came here for information!  I can?t do my job if I don?t have it.  I can?t keep all of us alive if I don?t have it.  And I can?t be bothered to waste what little time we have left-? Jan cut herself off and fell silent, trying to regain her composure.  Delrin went back to looking at the map, his expression unchanged, but inside he was rattled.  He?d only seen Jan snap once before, and it had taken a minor miracle to get them out of that mess.  Jan was the cold, unfeeling thinker; seeing her lose her temper was like seeing snow in summer.  It was out of place, felt wrong, and probably meant that everything was going to the hells in a handbasket.

Jan finally got a hold of herself, nodded stiffly to Delrin, and said, ?Very well.  I?ll come back when the captain?s here.?  The words and you?re not lingered in the air between them, unspoken, but venomous all the same.  Jan turned and stormed out of the tent, as perfectly poised and irritable as ever.  Just what he needed, more bad blood between them.  Delrin took another drag on his pipe.  One more thing he?d keep to himself, quietly, watching as everything turned out.

[theshirn]

Captain Weld shuffled the paperwork on his desk, trying to make sense of it all.  Weld was the newest guinea pig on the eastern bank of the river, taking over as General Glikar kept removing officers he was dissatisfied with.  Now Weld was supposed to take up the slack and keep pushing eastward.  The general?s orders had been frustratingly open-ended, and Weld was scrambling to try and figure out exactly what he could and should do.

Night had fallen outside.  The Dyrian camp was well entrenched by now, holding near a thousand men.  Sentries had been zealously posted ? Weld wasn?t about to lose his rank or his head over another surprise attack ? and the men were well-set to either repel a counterattack or push forward.  But there was still a significant Sentari force out in the field somewhere, and Weld, ever the cautious one, did not want to push too aggressively while they were still out there.

Weld was just contemplating what to do about them when an alarm sounded from the northern part of the camp.  ?Perhaps there is no need to worry after all,? he murmured as a sentry came running in.

?Sir!  A large Sentari force has been spotted moving southwards towards us!? the sentry panted.

Weld smiled.  Excellent.  ?Move the men to engage them, but detail another detachment and have them reinforce the rest of the watch.  We?ll have no sneaky surprises this time!?  The new captain grabbed his helm and moved out.  He would end this all in one fell swoop.

[theshirn]

?And that is the best part about predictable men and predictable training.?  Mordrenn grinned at Delrin, standing with him at the head of their forces.  Most of the men ? around two-thirds of them ? were massed up at the northern edge of the Dyrian camp, just a little out of bowshot.  Surprise was already gone, so the men carried torches with them.  ?It?s like we put up a giant banner saying ?Hey!  We?re a decoy!??

Delrin smiled slightly, and nodded to a group of archers, the only ones without torches.  ?Think this?ll really work??

?Trust me!?  Mordrenn clapped Delrin on the back.  He was in a fine mood, that was for certain.  The captain turned away to regard the other side of the river, then turned back.  ?Jan?ll have it covered.  This?ll work.?

?Sir!?  One of the men called back.  The pair turned quizzically.  ?Sir, the enemy commander wants to parley with you!  He?s offered to meet us halfway with only one man as escort, as long as you do the same.?

?A trap??  Delrin was skeptical. 

Mordrenn shook his head.  ?I don?t think so.  Talking to him probably won?t hurt our chances any.  Feel like coming along??

?Always,? Delrin growled.  ?Just make sure we?ve got some archers trained on them, just in case.?

The two walked forward into the gap of darkness that separated the two forces, their torch the only spot of light in the field.  It was almost like being in an island of light amidst a sea of darkness, Delrin reflected, then mentally shook himself.  He was losing his touch if he was getting all poetic on the field of imminent battle.  And the Arbiter knew there would be light enough in a few moments.

A patch of light detached itself from the other side, moving closer.  Eventually the enemy captain and one of his lieutenants made it to the center.

?I am Captain Weld of the Dyrian Army.  I have come to offer you terms of honorable surrender.?

Delrin stifled a smile.  Poor fool was about to have his head handed to him if he thought like that.  ?I am Captain Mordrenn of the Sentari Royal Army.  There will be no surrender.?

Weld seemed taken aback.  ?You do not even wish to hear the terms??

?Not really, no.?  Mordrenn said, almost cheerfully.

?You know your army is vastly outnumbered.  You have no real chance of victory through warfare.  We are prepared to grant lenient terms to you and your men-?

?I appreciate that, but my men and I will surrender once we are no longer breathing.  Until then, we have nothing to discuss.?

Weld?s mouth hung open for a moment.  ?I-if that was the case, why did you even agree to parley with me??  He assumed a defensive stance, his hand on his sword.

?Peace!  I will not break a parley in war.?  Mordrenn raised his empty hands disarmingly.  ?I merely wished to know the nature of the man I would fight.  It is good to know that you are a man of honor.?  Delrin nodded at that.  It was true.  It would make things much, much easier.

The enemy captain considered this for a moment.  ?In that case, it shall be an honor to meet you on the field of battle.  I would wish you well, but...? Weld laughed.  ?Show me your best, then, Captain Mordrenn of the Sentari Royal Army!?  He bowed, and turned back to his forces.  Mordrenn and Delrin walked back to their side together as well.

?See?  Chump.?  Mordrenn laughed.  ?We?ll be fine.?  He turned to Roleck.  ?Ready to raise some hell??

?Always.?  The giant of a man grinned.  ?Alrigh?, ye lot!  Get those bows of yers up an? ready!  It?s time to start the party, an? remember, for every arrow ye miss with ye have to take a shot!?  Typical of Roleck, turning war into a drinking game.

The archers moved into position.  Everything held for a moment, on the edge of a knife between peace and battle.  Then Mordrenn?s hand fell, and chaos broke out.

The majority of the men charged forward, roaring their defiance and various battle cries.  The enemy forces moved to meet them.  Arrows began falling in a slashing rain, but they closed the gap too quickly for the enemy archers to be of much use.  The battle was joined as the men met in a vicious melee at the edge of the camp.  Their initial momentum spent, the Sentari forces started getting surrounded and pushed back.

Suddenly, a loud explosion crashed through the night air.  Everyone faltered momentarily, looking southward.  The Dyrian forces started redeploying, concentrated along the south, as Mordrenn?s ambush unit sprang from the cover of darkness and began attacking.  Mordrenn paused in the middle of the melee to smile.  ?Wait for it...wait for it...?

Another explosion sounded, this time coming from the west, across the river.  Mordrenn nodded, his smile widening.  ?There we go!?  Weld would be totally confused now.  He would have expected an attack on two fronts, maybe.  Three, not likely, and less likely still on the western side of the river.  Being a textbook commander, Weld would most likely have decided the first to be a feint for the second, and both of them decoys for the third.  If he were a smart textbook commander, he might suspect they were all decoys for another, or that they were just small harrying attacks.

Poor fellow.

Mordrenn ducked under a wild slash and rammed his shoulder into his assailant, knocking the other man off balance.  As he staggered back, Mordrenn?s backhanded slash took him across the face, and he fell, blood pouring from his ruined features.  The captain spun and took another Dyrian soldier down, watching as they started giving ground.  Weld was probably moving his men to reinforce the other bank now.  Perfect.  Mordrenn moved back into the ranks of his troops, sheathing his sword and unslinging the bow from his back.  He strung it with practiced motions ? he was a passable archer, but always felt more comfortable with his sword ? and drew and nocked one of the special signal arrows he carried.  One of the soldiers lit it, and he fired it upwards, where it burst into light over the battlefield.  An answering signal arrow came from the archers with Roleck, prompting Mordrenn to start moving his men back.  ?Delrin!? he yelled.

The lieutenant popped out of the mass of soldiers.  ?Sir!  All set!?

?Alright, let?s book it!?  The men moved away from the tents ? just in time, as a volley of flaming arrows arced through the air and streaked down into the enemy camp.  There was a dull whoosh, and within moments a sizeable portion of the camp had burst into flames.  The fire spread unnaturally quickly, engulfing most of the camp within a few moments, and enemy troops started flocking to the river to escape the hungry flames.  Any that fled out into the darkness were swiftly cut down or captured by the Sentari forces.

?It?s a rout, sir.  Good job.?  Delrin said, with a quiet smile of satisfaction.

?I?ll celebrate once Jan gets back and we find out how much this cost us,? Mordrenn said, but he smiled anyway.  ?Looks like we took the ford back, though.  Maybe now the High Command will be able to negotiate something.  We can hope.?

?If nothing else, you?ve done a great thing just for the men, sir.  Look at them.?  Delrin spread his arms, and Mordrenn turned.  The troops were pounding each other on the backs, embracing each other, and cheering in the lurid light of the burning encampment.  ?You?ve given them a huge boost, Mor.  You give them hope every time you win a battle, every time you do something like this.  You?re the western front of the war, Mor...?  Delrin fell silent for a moment, then continued.  ?Even if you were to lose me, and Jan, and Roleck, you could still hold them together, Mor.  You?re the one everyone looks to.  Just...look at these men and tell me you haven?t done something great here.?

Mordrenn breathed in, deeply, and nodded.  ?Thanks, Del.?  The pair stood and watched the men celebrate as the camp burned to ash.  ?I wonder how many soldiers died tonight.?

?We?ll find out come morning, and once Jan comes back,? Delrin said.  ?No point in worrying about it.?

[theshirn]

A few hours later, Jan returned.  Mordrenn went out to meet her, half-dreading her report.  Jan?s armor was bloody, but she herself looked unhurt, and as collected as ever, and saluted as the captain entered the tent.  ?Sir!?

?Well, how did it go??  Mordrenn asked, more lightly than he felt.

?We made it across the hidden upper ford with no issues, sir.  Darkness should have provided cover for us, though they may be able to follow our tracks there-?

?-but they were going to find it anyway sooner or later, yes, I know.  We had the whole discussion before.?  Mordrenn cut her off, not interested in rehashing old and now pointless debates.  ?Give me numbers, Jan.?

The lieutenant nodded.  ?Our attack went off with precision, and we were able to keep casualties at a minimum.  I believe we lost six men on the other side of the river, with eight more wounded.?

?Six?!?  Mordrenn was utterly flabbergasted.

?Yes, sir.  I apologize.  It was due to-?

?Apologize?  Are you out of your mind, Jan?!  Six is incredible!?  Mordrenn felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his heart.  He grabbed Jan by the shoulders and spun her around, laughing.  ?By the Arbiter, Jan, you?re a genius, you know that??

Jan quietly but firmly removed Mordrenn?s hands and stepped back, her face slightly flushed.  ?Thank you, sir.  I?ll have a full report on casualties on this side of the river tomorrow morning.?

Mordrenn nodded, calming slightly.  ?Of course.  Thank you, Jan.  Get some rest, too.  You deserve it.?  He took a step back.  ?Anything else for now??

?No, sir,? Jan said.  Mordrenn nodded again, and walked out.  Jan waited a full count of ten, then reached up and rubbed her shoulders irritably, but smiled thinly nonetheless.  She dropped off the rest of her bulkier armor and walked out as well, the other way from the captain, towards the mess hall.

Even though it was late indeed, the huge tent was still more than half-filled with soldiers toasting each other and celebrating their victory.  Jan?s eyes tightened slightly.  This would be a perfect opportunity for the enemy to turn things around, if they were sufficiently devious.  Jan hoped, fervently, that they weren?t.  Many of their ? all right, of the captain?s ? plans were predicated on the enemy reacting in a certain manner.  It had held so far, and they planned for what eventualities they could, but Jan was worried.  The Dyrian army was large, well-trained and well-funded; they would have...specialists, for want of a better term.  Jan tended to see issues in worst-case terms, which made her difficult to argue with.  The captain always had to lay out specific parameters before asking her for assessments, though he told her to be as comprehensive on her predictions as possible.  Infuriating as always.  And speaking of infuriating...Jan walked forward, her lips pressed together in a grim line.

?I need your report,? she said flatly.

?Ahh, ye?re back!  Good t?see ye again, Janny!?  Roleck waved his arms expansively.  A muscle twitched in Jan?s cheek.  She hated it when Roleck called her that.

?You?re drunk.  Again.  And I need your report.?  Jan didn?t feel like wasting her time dealing with the giant?s drunken rambling, not after the harrowing battle earlier.  All she really wanted was to finish up her report for the night and go to sleep.

?Oh, don? be like tha?-?

?No, I will not cozy up and have a drink with you.  I have better things to do than souse myself up and vomit all over the men, or spend tomorrow hung over and with a headache.  And do not call me that.?  Jan maintained a flat tone and a level gaze, but she was seething inside.  She did not want to deal with this, especially after already losing her temper with Delrin earlier.  As Roleck recoiled slightly, a hurt expression on his face, Jan pressed her point.  ?Your.  Report.  Please.?

?All righ?, all righ?...?  Roleck patted his pockets for a moment before producing  a folded, dirty pouch, which he handed to her.  ?It?s all there, I knew ye?d ask so I wrote it up before I started drinkin?.  Lucky me, eh??  The giant winked at her.  Jan gingerly took it and stowed it in her pack, nodded stiffly, and began walking away.  ?Wait a sec.?

Jan turned and regarded the other lieutenant.  ?What??

?We should talk, Jan.  Have a seat.?  Roleck?s gaze was clear and direct.  Part of Jan wished for that kind of alcohol tolerance, but the rest just wanted to sleep.  Yet something in his tone and expression pulled her up short, drew her back, and she found herself sitting across from him at the table.  Roleck passed her a cup.  ?It?s water, if ye?re worried about that.?  She nodded, surprised at the sudden onset of thoughtfulness.  Roleck ran a hand through his wild hair before continuing.  ?Jan, Jan...what?s botherin? ye??

Jan raised an eyebrow.  ?Pardon??

Roleck sighed.  ?It?s plain obvious jus? from lookin? at ye that somethin?s not right.  Ye?re stiffer than a Judgepriest in a whorehouse, ye?ve been snappin? at everythin? that moves.  What?s goin? on, lass??

Jan took a drink before answering.  ?I?d never have expected to hear anything like this from you, Roleck.?  The other lieutenant quirked a wry smile, but remained silent.  Jan sighed, staring into her cup.  ?I guess the truth is, I don?t know if we can win this.  All that I?ve done here, I?ve always done believing in ourselves, in our chances to win.  Now, I feel like all I?m doing is prolonging the inevitable.  And every time I?m sure it?s over, the captain pulls another ridiculous plan out of his hat, and it all starts again.  I...I?m just not sure my heart can take this anymore.?

Roleck nodded.  ?Afraid to hope, eh??

?I suppose so.?

?Well,? Roleck said slowly, ?maybe ye should tell the captain how ye feel.?

?Th-the captain?!?  Jan jerked upright in her seat, spilling her water across the table.  ?I-I don?t-?

?Whoa, whoa, are ye all right??  Roleck grabbed her chair to steady it ? Jan had nearly toppled right out. 

Jan caught herself on the edge of the table.  ?Y-yes, I?m fine,? she managed, working to regain her composure.  She couldn?t believe this.  Twice in one day!  She reached out and righted the cup on the table.  ?Sorry about that.?  She looked up to find Roleck regarding her with a disconcertingly shrewd look, especially on that ridiculous, overmuscled, bearded mountain of a man.

?Well, them?s just my thoughts, but I?ve a feelin? ye?d feel better about all this if ye expressed yer reservations to the captain,? Roleck said briskly.  ?Now, I?ve got drinkin? to get to, and ye?ve got work yet, aye??

Jan smiled thinly at the implicit dismissal.  ?Yes.  I suppose I do.?  She rose from her chair.  ?Ah...thank you, Roleck.  For listening.?

The other lieutenant grinned widely.  ?Anytime ye want, Jan.?  He lifted his mug to her in salute, and downed it.  ?Now be off with ye.?

She nodded, stiffly as ever, and left to finish her report, a tiny hint of a smile hovering around her, battling the cloud of worry over her head.  Talk to the captain, eh?  Perhaps she would.  But that would wait, and this report wouldn?t.  Jan sighed, and got to work.


EDIT: Scene finished.

So...thoughts so far?

[Kiro]

Well, I think I and anyone else who read it went "wha?" at the change of scenery after your first 2 posts.

I do like your description of Mordrenn and his 3 lieutenants. You've given us a basic idea of whom they all are and what they're like. Objectively, it's a little cliche, but I didn't really mind it too much. The character interactions are strong enough to keep things moving without being boring. The battle scenes were ok to me.

I do hope you're soon planning to give us a plot link from the demon world to the war currently being fought. Those kinds of things bug me as a reader if they're not explained in a decent timeframe, at least when the difference is that dramatic.

[theshirn]

Well, I think I and anyone else who read it went "wha?" at the change of scenery after your first 2 posts.

Ideally, those would be the prologue.  I probably should've put them together in one post.

I do like your description of Mordrenn and his 3 lieutenants. You've given us a basic idea of whom they all are and what they're like. Objectively, it's a little cliche, but I didn't really mind it too much. The character interactions are strong enough to keep things moving without being boring. The battle scenes were ok to me.

They are a little cliche for two reasons.  One, that I am godawful at originality.  Two, that I plan on the characters changing, and vastly, hopefully into things that are not cliche.

I do hope you're soon planning to give us a plot link from the demon world to the war currently being fought. Those kinds of things bug me as a reader if they're not explained in a decent timeframe, at least when the difference is that dramatic.

Once I finish up the scene I'm writing, I plan on returning there.  There's a lot of stuff I have to deal with, at least a couple more characters to introduce there, and so on.  I've also got at least one or two more major characters that are going to show up around the war front as well.  THERE'S TOO MANY OF THEM--

[theshirn]

The currents of the Nir were treacherous at the best of times.  Trying to maintain a dimensional shell while triggering a nested teleport loop and holding onto a child was an exercise in insanity, but Valraden managed to hold it even as he contemplated these thoughts.  I?ll have to remember that particular language for later, he mused, as the spell came to its conclusion and dumped him in an explosive flash of light and a dusty heap on the ground, the girl still clutched tightly in his arm.  Valraden exhaled loudly, and prepared to dismiss the first layer of the shell, reacclimating him to Ssishak?s signature.

?And just where have you been off to??

Valraden jumped, nearly severing the entire shell in one shot.  He spun to find another demon confronting him.  Tanjadarr was significantly larger than Valraden, standing nearly eight feet tall not counting the horns on his head.  He wore only a ragged loincloth, displaying his heavily muscled form both as a sign of pride and a warning to other demons.  Tanjadarr was a demon of lust, and like many demons he focused himself towards a single aspect ? in this case, a lust for power.  He also embodied his aspect very strongly ? Tanjadarr was one who sought to rule the other demons, more for his own twisted pleasure than for the sake of introducing any sort of order or goal.  Valraden tried to avoid him when at all possible ? Tanjadarr didn?t understand him, and thus viewed him as a sort of rival for power.  More than once the two had fought and each had nearly died, but the balance of power between them was ? for now ? still slightly in Valraden?s favor.

Tanjadarr unfolded his massive arms and walked forward.  ?Hopping around the planes again, Valraden??  His voice was quiet, yet still managed to be akin to a rumbling roar.  ?Where were you off to this time??

Valraden hesitated.  A few wrong words here and Tanjadarr could have the Mediators take him.  He held the girl under his tattered beggar?s garb, praying she would keep silent.  ?Just a little jaunt around the Nir, Tanjadarr.  Nothing for you to worry about.?

Tanjadarr slitted his eyes and flexed his claws slightly, but otherwise remained still.  ?Why can?t I sense you...??

What?  Valraden was totally lost.  ?I don?t know what you?re talking about.?  Is this a side effect of the shell?  The teleport?  ?Either way, I have business to attend to now, so if there?s nothing else??  He was being too aggressive, he knew, but he didn?t have the time to stand here and debate.  Any moment now, Tanjadar would sense-

Wait a moment.  If he can?t sense me...that probably means he can?t sense her, either!  Valraden sighed inwardly.  This trip may end up being more useful than I thought.

The other demon?s wings flared out and dropped back in before he nodded abruptly.  ?Go, then, weakling.  I?ve better things to do myself.?  Tanjadarr turned and began stomping away, calling back over his shoulder: ?And don?t think I?ll forget this, Valraden!  I will watch you twice over from now on!?  He crested a hill and disappeared over it, laughing harshly.

?Oh, get over yourself,? Valraden muttered.  Insufferable moron.  Is it too much to ask to just leave me alone for once?  He sighed and looked down at the girl, who was staring back at him quietly.  ?Can you remember that one?? he said quietly.  The girl nodded.  ?He is dangerous.  He may try to hurt you if he can, just to hurt me.  Avoid him if you can.?  Once more, a nod, and silence. 
?Can you talk??  Another nod.  ?What is your name??

?Lissa,? the child whispered.

?Lissa...? Valraden hissed.  ?I am Valraden.?

?Val-daren??

?No, Val-ra-den.?

?Val-ra-den.?

The demon nodded.  ?Exactly.  I will look after you.  This is a dangerous place to be, but you are not afraid, are you??  Lissa shook her head.  ?Good.  Here, take this.?  Valraden produced a small talisman and gave it to the girl.  ?Wear this always.  Keep it hidden.  I shall place a spell on it that will hide it from the sight of most, but you must keep it hidden nonetheless.  Do you understand??  She nodded again.  Valraden closed his eyes and dispelled the first layer of the shell around himself, allowing the planar shift to realign itself.  Suddenly he realized that he could detect Lissa through the Nir ? and up to that moment, he had been unable to. It?s not the same as at the orphanage; she still does not resonate with any hatred.  It seems the shell?s signature blocks interaction with the plane?s native Nir...this will be useful indeed. On a stroke of inspiration, he added a layer of the shell over the non-detection aura on the talisman, and handed it to the child.  She took it, silent as always, and slipped it on over her head, then tucked it under her shirt.  Valraden nodded in satisfaction.  Now comes the tricky part.  Do I claim her?  It was not unheard of for a demon to claim one of the residents of Ssishak with a particularly strong emotion of their aspect as their own.  Generally, demons would respect the claims of another, but they had been involved in petty struggles in the past.  It will keep her safe and yet further imperil her at the same time.  Claiming her will make her a target for Tanjadarr and his ilk, but leaving her alone may be yet more dangerous...there is no right answer to this; I can only decide and work with my decision.

?Come with me, Lissa,? Valraden said, and beckoned.  The girl obediently followed behind the demon.  We must make quite the pair, a ragged beggar and a little girl, traversing the plain of Hell itself. They walked in silence for several minutes, eventually coming to what looked like a small village surrounded by a waist-high fence.  ?This is where your kind go when coming here.  You, however, are different from them.  Keep your distance and keep your wits about you.  If you are in trouble, hold the talisman and say my name, it will keep you safe.  Do you understand??

She nodded again.  ?Valdaren.?

?It?s Valraden.  Make sure you get it right, or that won?t help you at all.?  He smiled slightly, and touched the girl with the palm of his right hand.  There was a flash of light as he drew on the Nir, and she appeared in the midst of the City of the Damned.  Be careful, little one.  We have much left to do with each other.


Not sure if this scene is quite finished yet.  I think it is, or very very near it.