As a ship set sail from Methodin, an Almerkian port city, the captain, a man of 5'11” height, with ear length black hair, and gray curved horns that twisted like a rams sticking out of his temples, barked orders until the ship was well on its way before retiring to the captain's quarters. He sat down behind a desk that was littered with various important papers and maps. As he studied the map of the world, the captain placed an 'X' on the spot of the map where they had found his precious cargo, which was now safely tucked away into his pocket.

“That's two down,” the captain said to himself with a smirk on his face.

“Captain!” his first mate cried as he pushed in the cabin door so fast that it hit the back wall. He was 6' 3” tall and his ivory horns protruded from the top of his head and curved outward before coming to a point about a foot from the top of his head. “We've underestimated the storm. It's coming in fast, sir, and I think you should come see.”

The captain cursed under his breath and followed his first mate out onto the deck. As he observed the sky, he noticed that the clouds were as dark as he had ever seen them. The captain looked down to the ocean, where the waves were pounding against the sides of the ship relentlessly, and with growing strength. The ship was swaying with the battering waves, and the captain began to shout orders to prepare for the storm. As he faced his crew, a giant wave formed at the bow of the ship.

The ship was hit by a rather large wave and the captain stopped in mid-sentence, stumbling and almost losing his balance. He steadied himself and stood with his legs shoulder-width apart to gain better balance. He opened his mouth to speak again, but whatever he was about to say was lost as the wave that had been forming behind the ship finally crashed down upon it. Water splashed over the cabin and across the deck, sending the captain sliding until he hit the railing at the bow of the ship and the object that had been in his pocket flew out into the gaping sea.

“Captain!” called his first mate and many of the other crew members as they stopped what they were doing to move toward the captain. If it wasn't for his expertise of the stars and currents, most of the demons wouldn't have cared. However, losing the captain would mean being stranded at sea without navigation.

“I'm fine! Get back to work!” the captain hissed, although he was still holding on to the railing.

Without a moment's hesitation, the crew quickly moved about to finish preparing for the inevitable storm.



What they didn't realize, was that they were being watched. The scene had played out on a mirror which had no magical property. No, it was the woman in front of the mirror that had possessed the magic and forced the mirror to show her the demons that had been sent to claim the second of three of the cursed items of Dermythis.

Laraine's body was tense as she stared at her mirror. She chewed her lower lip with worriment that her husband would walk in and see that their minions had lost their precious cargo. Laraine was only slightly relieved when the captain ordered that they should follow after it.

The door flew open, bouncing off of the wall behind it and Chaos stepped into the room. He smirked at his wife until he noticed what was going on in the mirror behind her. Laraine hastily released the magic that allowed her to scry and the mirror returned to it's normal reflecting state.

"They will be late with their return because they have been caught in a powerful storm," Laraine said quickly, carefully omitting the loss.

Chaos growled, walking to their bed. "The sooner they return, the sooner I can send them to search for the final object!"

"Aye, my love, I know." she said softly, although relieved that his anger did not escalate.


~~~~~~~

When they had said we would only need to hold them off until the reinforcements from Donsile Hold and Broont City had arrived, Morys didn't believe they had known just how many Dwarves they were about to face. The other men had thought them to be easy to kill because of their short stature. However, they were strong enough to wield battle axes, and their numbers were far greater than the straggling cities across the Northern border could ever hope to defeat.

Morys was only twenty years old, in his prime of life, his blonde hair cut short, his muscles had only just began to become more prominent. He had always been more of an archer/arcane user until recent events forced him to learn to use swords. Luckily, he was ambidextrous and had learned to wield two swords.

In this exact moment, it seemed futile no matter how many weapons they had. The swarm of Dwarves stretched on as far as the eye could see. Morys saw little action, but became confused as the mass of humans were forced back towards their villages and cities. The confusion quickly grew into panic at an alarming rate. In just moments it seemed that his world had collided with chaos itself. Buildings were set aflame, children screamed as their mothers tried carrying them away. There was so much happening that no one person could take it all in, nor make sense of it.

A clap of thunder reverberated through the air. Morys jumped to his feet, one hand outstretched as if to shield himself from an attacker, while his over hand immediately rested on the hilt of his sword.

He jumped again when a rain drop landed on his forehead, then he calmed himself and looked at the sky, feeling foolish. Morys realized he had fallen asleep on the sand-covered beach and that it was about to rain. The scent of fish was in the air, as well as the salty water of the sea. The gentle scattered rain drops quickly turned into a down pour and many civilians began running for their dry homes.

To Morys, this wasn't home yet, but he hoped he could find work here and start a new life. The rain didn't bother him, and he looked out to the dangerous waves as they crashed on the shore. It was then that he sensed a magical signature coming from somewhere within those waves. Closing his eyes, he reached out with his sixth sense until he could pin point its location. Once found, Morys waded out waist-deep into the water and snatched a spherical object before it was pulled out to sea by the current.

After pocketing the object, Morys made a mental note to try to identify it later and headed back towards the Dove By Inn, where he was currently boarding until he could find honest work.

_________________
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Though he had only been gone less than a month, Drachon already yearned for his homeland. As the hooded elf walked through the cobbled streets, surrounded by these buildings of wood and stone, he mournfully reminisced about the tall pines and oaks that he had come to know so well.Drachon looked to the sky with his deep blue eyes and watched as the storm clouds gathered. He had smelled the approach of the storm not less then half an hour ago, and already it was upon him. it had started as a small drizzle but soon escalated to a roaring downpour. Drachon had lowered his hood and lifted his face to the sky, glady accepting the rain as it cleansed his body and mind, putting his thoughts at ease.

Drachon soon put up his hood and continued walking at a somewhat brisk pace, he had come here for a reason, one he had not yet fully understood, but a reason nonetheless.As he walked, he could suddenly feel a magical signature approaching his direction, a dark one. Drachon had quickly pressed himself up to a wall and wrapped the cloak around him. He had closed his eyes and reached deep into himself ,where the magic stirred, and called upon it. a faint, shimmering aura soon covered the elf, and soon the shimmering had ceased and the elf had vanished, or at least appeared to.

Drachon had quieted his breath, making no noise as the dark signature was upon him, and he was slightly surprised to see that it was an almerkian man giving it off. On closer inspection though, the elf could tell that it was not this man that was giving off the energy, but an item he had on him. When the man had passed Drachon pushed himself off the wall, the shimmering aura would quickly dissipate, revealing the elf, who had watched the direction the man had walked off in. The wind would suddenly pick up and the elf nodded, he had now understood that he must follow this man, after that, he was not sure. He once again called forth his magic and that aura appeared, hiding his presence once more. He moved swiftly and quietly as he followed behind the man,the wind urging him forward.

The creaking of a rickety ship and clanging of swinging chains in broken rhythm was enough to drive any one man mad, but after two days of travel squeezed between two large supply crates, Sen stayed calm. He sat on his feet from a knelt position keeping his eyes closed to focus on the ships’ movements. The other stowaways sat across from him, feeling intimidated by his presence. Every so often the lantern in the cargo bay swung ever so slightly as to reveal Sens’ face to them, before losing him in the shadows once again. Sensing this he sighed heavily. “It isn’t polite to stare…” his voice was deep but he spoke softly with a slight undertone of sarcasm. His eyes opened and in another swing of the lantern shimmered brightly for a second, then disappeared. The lantern swung back and briefly lit a now empty space that Sen had occupied a moment earlier. A unanimous inaudible gasp almost filled the room. The panic built up as the others looked around towards each other but could not see him. A small boy flinched as he felt a breath on his neck. A young woman yelped quietly as she felt her hair grazed. Then a grown man rushed out to the middle of the room when he felt a sharp object poke his back. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, nearly failing to keep his voice down. His frantic eyes darted from person to person, from shadows to light, but never setting on Sen. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, thief…” Sens’ voice rung out to the man’s left causing him to turn his head swiftly. “…stealing from people who practically have nothing already. It’s a damn shame what this world is coming to these days…” Sens’ voice breezed by the man’s right ear. This time the man swung a backhand violently in the direction of the voice but only hit air. Suddenly a hand burst from the darkness and grabbed the man’s throat. Sen slowly revealed himself in the light; his eyes shined briefly and stared intensely into the thief’s eyes. Sen’s other hand balled into a fist and struck the man clean in the ribcage. The force of the blow knocked the wind out of the thief, along with the other’s belongings. Sen tossed him on the floor to writhe in pain while the others looked on horrified; not at how Sen attacked the man, but that their only and most precious belongings fell from this other man’s cloak. One by one they stood and approached the wounded man, some grabbing scraps of wood and chains, others cracking knuckles. Sen walked to the side of the ship and lifted a shutter to reveal the ocean and the coastline of Methodin. The ship was slowing and soon the sailors would come down to retrieve the cargo. Stowaways were more thought of as pests and would be disposed of without hesitation. Sen didn’t need that kind of attention yet so he began to prop the shutter open. A little hand tugged on his cloak which stopped him from climbing out. He glanced down and the little girl presented him a small wooden carving of a hawk. “I can’t take that. That’s not mine.” Sen said softly. “You look hurt…” the girl spoke then pointed to her chest, “…on the inside. You’ve made the rest of us smile. This will help you smile.” And without another word the girl put the carving into Sen’s hand, smiled and ran back to her family. Sen pocketed the trinket and looked back at the little girl’s parents. “Get out and swim to shore while you still can. Otherwise the Sailors will have you put in prison, or worse.” And with that Sen hoisted himself up and out the shutter window and plunged into the ocean below.

The shoreline and dock were easy to sneak onto. Or perhaps it was just easy for Sen. He watched the pattern of the workers, some of the guards in the areas and the activity of the shop keepers nearby. Who would least likely see him? Which part of the crowd could he duck into and blend? Where was the best place for him to rest and dry off without rising suspicion? He knew all these answers the second he was on the street in a crowd. A couple of cloaked travelers veered off towards another street and Sen followed in toe. He weaved his way through the crowd until ducked into an alley where he removed his cloak and began ringing it out. “How can I know how to do all this and not remember who I am?” he asked himself quietly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the wooden Hawk carving he got from the stowaway girl and his thoughts drifted; might that be the last time she ever smiles? Is she strong enough to survive with such a pleasant way of looking at life? Is this really worth dwelling on? At least it’s a memento for him to remember a friendly little girl who could see the good and pain in him. He would at least keep it for her. Should he never regain his memories, at least he could have this one as a fresh, new, good memory. Either way it was time to move on, and across the alley Sen saw his next destination; the Dove By Inn.

_________________
"Told me to prove to them what I was worth
We’ll teach you to move without mercy and give you the tools to go after the causers of hurt
You'll become death. You will take breath
This is for everything you’ve ever loved
Use all the pain that you’ve felt in your life as the currency go out and trade it for blood
You are not you. You are now us
We are the only ones that you can trust
You’ll become fear. They’ll become dust
Before this moment you didn't mean much
You are the smoldering vessel of punishment born to do nothing but justify us"

Aliesa preferred flying over the choice of dealing with the sea. It was always unerving how the sea rocked and bent with the feelings of a oncoming storm. She was a traveler for the most part dealing with shady jobs, and managing to stay out of wars. Typically , a night fairy was found as a beautiful , powerful, and lustrious figure. However, Aliesa came from what is called dark fairies family. This family was casted out from being treated like normal fairies and thus was forced to take up the dirty jobs. Somebody had to or else balance would be off right?

She wore a whiteish silver witch's hat. It was more for humore when humans point and say " It's a witch ! A witch!" Her mind loved the joke but her heart always felt a tad bit sorry for them. Her dark purple eyes glanced down to towards the sea. There was a ship , and it looked like it wouldn't hold because of the storm. Good thing for them she wasn't a water fairy or sprite as their called or else that ship would be under water. Instead , their luck was such that she was a night fairy in need of a quick break. There wasn't much in terms of controlling water but maybe she could use a 2 yr old spell. ( a spell taught to every fairy at the age of 2)

Her boot made a clink as her dark gray thigh boots landed on wood. She twirled her staff often viewed as a demoness's staff but it was in all depth a fairy staff. It was time to rock these sea fairin folks no matter their rac-before a thought could be finished she noticed that they were demons. Great! Time to prove why fairies were trouble makers or at least her type of fairy was. " Well now, never thought to see demon would end up with ship troubles. " The humore was dripping out of her words but as she spoke her staff began to glow blue.

The glowing color blue began to envelope her , and she was able to steer the storm clouds just enough to allow the ship to avoid a crash course. With that she waved a hand muttering " tootles." Flapping her wings and heading back to the sky. Fact was moving storm clouds was child's play for any fairy. It was easy....unless you had unstable magic or a dranage of it. Her faded bluish wings flapped yet again carrying her to a port in about 1 hour from that ship. Damn...the ship had lost her an hour ...Oh well.

_________________

It was dark and humid when the ground Farish walked on turned from dirt to cobblestone. This is Methodin? he thought, taking in his surroundings. "It smells like the ocean here, don't you think, Chizu?" The small blue creature was sleeping across the boy's shoulders, her tail curled around his neck for balance. She opened her Sapphire eyes at the comment then lifted her head, her long ears twitching.

"Rain... Fa-chan, a storm is coming." The Wind Sprite's language was quick and soft, more like purring than speech. Still, Farish got her meaning. The boy trusted the words of his companion--especially when they had to do with weather. Moreover, he wasn't dressed for rain, and he scanned their surroundings for cover.

"We can wait in there," he offered, pointing across the way to a travelers' hold called the Dove By Inn. It was good that he still had money left over from the odd jobs he did in the last town. It was nice to sleep inside once in a while, and maybe get something warm to eat. The wilderness was full of food for the both of them (vegetarian, of course), but they never cooked any of it. A small grumbling near his ear solidified the notion into a plan, and he smiled. "You're hungry too, Chizu?" A slight pink touched the Sprite's cheeks and Farish chuckled. "Me too. Let's get something warm to eat while we wait out the rain."

The pair strolled into the Inn a good couple of minutes before the rain started. They could feel stares on them; a young boy, who looked human with his hair over his ears, carrying what could only be a Wind Sprite on his shoulders. Farish ignored the eyes, letting Chizu return the glares on her own. They bought some porridge and bread to share and listened quietly as the first patterings of rain started outside.

_________________

Darakus was sitting at a table with a small pouch that he carried around with him in his hands. although he appeared to be looking into space, there was much more to it than that. A man in a drunken stupor got bold and decided to make a joke of him in front of his friends. "Hrey, yer a stulpid lookin' felerr, y'know. can ya erven unerstaund me, wolf boy." the Almerkian said in an attempt to start a fight. Darakus looked at him with a blank expression, his piecing yellow eyes getting a solid black line down their length. he muttered something sinister and as the man took another swig of his beloved alchohol, he doubled over, gripping his chest. the next minute, only his clothes remained, as if a black hole had formed from his stomach and he had been sucked into it. Darakus went back to staring into space, his eyes going back their normal yellow as he did so. the friends of the man having no proof anyone had done something to him just sat there, shocked.

As he was facing the door, Darakus noticed the young boy walk in, and contemplated leaving. Then his senses picked up the 'halfling scent' and he got excited, which was very rare for him outside of battle. The boy sat down and ordered a meal of porridge and bread, and since there was a burning curiosity in him, Darakus silently sat down to the left of him. Until the boy was midway through his meal, Darakus sat and said nothing as usual, then he decided the time for silence was over. "My my, so that's what a Wind Sprite looks like. She's cute. Friend of yours?" he paused as he was unsure he could stop what usually happened to everyone he met at this point, then decided to ask what was on his mind anyway.

He leaned in close as to not reveal anything to onlookers, then, noticing the ears, he said "Finally, someone with the same problem as me. Halfling much?" noticing the looks he got from the Wind Sprite and the boy, he quickly added "Hey, not bashing it, after all, I am too. Different Race, though. Still, I feel calmer around you somehow." he took a small item that looked to be ancient out of his pouch and handed it to the Wind Sprite. The item in Question was an old shimmering green spherical object with a metal casing surrounding it attached to a chain. as he handed it to her, he simply said, "A token of friendship. it is a Sprite power enhancement charm. took me 47 years to track it down." he looked to the boy and reassured him, "I didn't just steal that you know." This was only half true. he hadn't necessarily stolen it, but the thing is, he had taken it off a dead corpse after someone else had murdered the man in question. he betrayed nothing of this white lie and sat there calmly, then asked, "If I am to travel with you, may as well ask now to avoid confusion. What are your names? And if you won't reveal that, then what may I refer to you as?"

The Inn had become rather quiet, as most patrons, who had been here before, knew to avoid the Wolf Anitrope/Demon halfling. they had seen him get angry before in the street. It wasn't pretty, and now he was acting all chummy with what appeared to be a human. Even though no one knew of his heritage, the half Demon was intimidating when angry. His left arm alone could confirm that.

As for Jerakea, he had been in Methodin for days impersonating anyone and everyone he could to fill his wallet. At the moment, he was masked as an old war veteran, Borasan, Almerkian by appearance, tall and proud of his accomplishments by nature. he had been following a scent for thirty-three years, getting nowhere fast until recently. he was following a crowd to an Inn that he had heard a Wolf Anithrope with a staring problem currently resided. Unfortunately, or maybe not so much, he bumped into one of his current form's men, Morys by name. ~Time to act this man into beleivance~ he thought as he strode up after noticing the Aura of malice around Morys' pocket.

"Morys old friend, I would have never guessed you'd be here!" he boomed, acting every bit like Borasan. "I just arrived in town about a week ago. how've you been? Still practicing with those swords of yours I see. Come on I'll buy you a drink or two while we catch up." and he led the Almerkian toward the Inn, using the exact amount of strength that his current form looked to have to further the lie.

_________________
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Shoulder Demon: (Looking at controls of train) "Let's see how many times we can wreck this thing before we're all dead."

Shoulder Angel: "Are you crazy?!?!?! you'll get us all killed!!!!!!"

Shoulder Demon: "That's the idea, Moron!"

Upon hearing his name, Morys jumped. It took him a moment to recognize the voice, but the face was unmistakable. He gave a forced half smile and allowed the older man to lead him into the Dove By Inn, which was where he had been headed anyways. The bell on the door chimed as it swung open and Morys walked in first. He allowed Borasan, who happened to be his old squadron captain, to lead him to a table. (Not even noticing they had been followed in.)

"Yeah, still using swords. I've come to prefer the close combat battle actually. Nothing like when I was twenty where I preferred my bow," Morys replied, a little belated and somewhat awkwardly. He surveyed the common room, noting the group drunkards, an odd pile of clothes which seemed to be a concern somehow to them, and a young human talking with a wolf Anithrope.

As Borasan chattered on in his carrying baritone, Morys thought about the object in his pocket, going over the details of its surface in his head. A black spherical object with orange indentations. At first glance, there did not appear to be any incription, any runes carved into it. What kind of power could it possibly hold? He thought about the object rather than pulling out to inspect it because he did not want to gather any unwanted attention. Not to mention, it was far better than the flashbacks that seeing his captain would undoubtedly bring to mind.

The middle-aged innkeeper strode over, interrupting Borasan in one of his battle tales, and asking for their orders. "The usual, Morys? And what would you like Borasan?" It shouldn't be surprising that man recognized them both since Morys had been staying a few days, and Borasan was a well known Almerkian for his battle prowess, and his loud mouth.

Morys nodded his answer.

~~~~~

After getting dressed and waiting awhile for Chaos to leave the room for whatever business he was attending to, Laraine went back to her mirror. She scryed for the object, but all she could see was blackness. Obviously, wherever it was, and whomever had possession of it, Laraine had not seen before, and so the mirror could not reveal it to her. She chewed her lip in frustration, hoping that Chaos's servants would do whatever needed done in order for the object's safe return.

_________________
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The smell of approaching rain hastened Sen's steps up to the Dove By Inn, but not quick enough as he managed to catch quite a few drops. He merely grunted in annoyance that he just finished drying off. Calmly Sen opened the door to the tavern and removed his hood. Thankfully he didn't look out of the ordinary as the customers were all fairly common looking, some looking rougher than himself. Then something caught Sen's eye; a young looking boy with a Wind Sprite accompanying him and they were conversing with an Anithrope, a suspicious sight to say the least. Sen started to wonder but then he mentally waved it off. "None of my business." He thought to himself.

The bar had an open space and Sen made his way to it, glancing at a few drunks obsessed with a pile of clothes. The two other patrons on either side of the space simply glared at Sen but he hit them back with a classic "thousand yard" glare that promptly put them back into their own business. Sen fumbled around his belt til he found a coin purse he lifted off of one the hooded travelers that he snuck by with when he arrived to the city; they were well dressed and likely wouldn't miss the coins. "Two of your strongest." Sen placed two coins on the counter. The barkeep quickly obliged. "There ya go big guy. You be needin' a room too?" The barkeep asked as he placed two shot glasses down and pour the liquor expertly. He was a stout man with a furry beard and a pleasant look in his eyes. He smelled of booze, water, sweat and cooking grease.

"They must be short handed if the barkeep has to help in the kitchen. Family owned establishment maybe? Quite a jolly fellow...but those hands, those are callused knuckles. You only get those from experience, fighting experience. This barkeep is no slouch, better not get into trouble here. Don't want to have to really fight someone like that and kill 'em. Need to keep a low profile." Sen thought to himself, again wondering how he could profile so well yet...never mind.

"A room? No, I'm just passing through." Sen replied and with that the barkeep nodded and proceeded to move about the bar taking other customer orders. Sen slammed the first shot. It bit hard and burned harder all the way down his throat. He could even feel it in his gut. It was good though, and he didn't even cringe. Sen sat there fingering the other glass, contemplating what his next plan of action had to be. The Faeries couldn't restore his memories but perhaps different mages could. A city this big had to have a few roaming around. The trick was finding the sneaky bastards. In the middle of his thoughts, Sen felt a hand snake its way inside his cloak, finding the coin purse on his belt. It was the bar patron on his right and while getting up to leave he bumped into Sen attempting to pickpocket him. Sen responded quickly by grabbing and twisting the man's thieving arm, turned him towards the bar and slammed him face down on the counter with one of Sen's punch dagger blades being pushed into the back of the man's neck. This surprised even Sen; that he could do all that in the blink of an eye without hesitation. His body knew what to do, and where to strike.

Sen clinched the man's thieving wrist hard, cracking a few bones in the hand and caused him to drop Sen's coin purse down on the counter. "Not in here fellas. Can't have ya bloodying up my bar. Not good for business. And for cryin' out loud Jaufrey! I told you not to be stealing from the customers!" The barkeep shouted. Sen looked down at the man who's life was literally in Sen's hands. "Next time, I ghost you." And in one motion Sen pushed the man away from the bar and sheathed his left dagger into an inverted sheathe on his back. The man stumbled frantically out of the tavern and into the streets. Sen then grabbed a few more coins from his pouch and tossed them to the barkeep. "For the trouble." The barkeep shook his head and smiled. "We run an honest business here fella. Go ahead and take a seat over there. I'll bring ya up some soup and bread." The barkeep motioned over to a table near the young boy with the wind sprite. Sen nodded and made his way to his seat, feeling the rest of the tavern stare. "So much for a low profile..." he said quietly to himself.

_________________
"Told me to prove to them what I was worth
We’ll teach you to move without mercy and give you the tools to go after the causers of hurt
You'll become death. You will take breath
This is for everything you’ve ever loved
Use all the pain that you’ve felt in your life as the currency go out and trade it for blood
You are not you. You are now us
We are the only ones that you can trust
You’ll become fear. They’ll become dust
Before this moment you didn't mean much
You are the smoldering vessel of punishment born to do nothing but justify us"

Farish was aware that they had company, but chose filling his stomach as priority. He wasn't bothered in the least that the company came in the form of a Wolf Anithrope, having, himself, grown up in Anithrope territory. Chizu, on the other hand, stopped her meal short to glare suspiciously at the dangerous-looking man. Her first memories were of Anithrope lands, but this one was different somehow. The boy finally allowed his meal to be interrupted when the stranger tried to start up a conversation.

"Wind sprites can come in many forms," Farish responded, offering a small smile. "But yes, this is how Chizu looks. And we are best friends." Between the stranger's compliment and the elf-boy's praise, the Wind Sprite fiddled with her paws and blushed. Then, just like that, the stranger broke the mood.

"Finally, someone with the same problem as me. Halfling much?"

Chizu stopped blushing and glared at the wolf-man with a harsh ferocity. Meanwhile, Farish's smile vanished and his eyes widened in an expression almost like he'd been horribly betrayed by someone close to him. The stranger quickly moved to correct himself.

"Hey, not bashing it, after all, I am too. Different Race, though. Still, I feel calmer around you somehow." Farish sat quietly as the man rustled through his pouch, offering Chizu a present. "A token of friendship. it is a Sprite power enhancement charm. took me 47 years to track it down." he looked to the boy and reassured him, "I didn't just steal that you know."

The boy paused for a moment then accepted the charm for his companion. "I never said you stole anything," the boy replied calmly. All the same, it looked valuable. He thought of offering it back, but the look in the wolf's eyes demanded he keep it. After a moment of prompting, the Wind Sprite allowed Farish to slip the charm around her neck. It looked pretty on her. Farish whispered this to her in her own tongue and she blushed a deep purple.

The boy's yet unspoken thanks was interrupted by another comment by the stranger. "If I am to travel with you, may as well ask now to avoid confusion. What are your names? And if you won't reveal that, then what may I refer to you as?"

"I am Farish Ke'il, and this is Chizu. Do you intend to travel with us?" It was more than a fair question. Farish was always open to making new friends, but some random stranger comes up to them, offers them a magical charm, then implies he'll be traveling with them? That was a disorientingly abrupt chain of events. "But more importantly, who are you and how do you know about me?" It was possible this man had seen his ears after he got close enough and made an educated guess, but the way he approached made it seem like he knew beforehand.

Even putting this strange person aside, other odd characters continued to file into the tavern. Among them, a loud man with a younger man touched by some dark sensation, and a bald man who seemed to possess advanced combat abilities. A strange crowd indeed. He avoided even looking at any of them to focus on his current encounter.

_________________

( Under construction)

Rain pitter pattered on the edge of the dock that she had just landed on. Boats covered the port area most like,y with the same mind set. Stay the hell out of trechourous seas..one has less rate of survival on bad seas. It was amazing how demons thought themselves above nature, It just made her laugh as she took her witches hat and dries it out in the ran for no reason. The long blackish blue locks of her hair were let lose by the wind, waving against her back.

Well , now it was about time she figure out abouts where she landed? The world was so big that setting one's self to a single destination sounds..calous to her. With those words in mind her hands placed the hat back onto her head. It was time to search for an inn, or even a tavern , nai?

It seemed the only tavern around was the one just off the dock. A strange place to only have one inn? Or maybe she just desired for their to be only one inn, and thus all other choices were stripped from her mind, Before heading for the inn, she placed both hands together calling forth her spirtual black panther. Five days without magic couldn't be so bad in this place?

She walked up to the shaggy door, opening the door without a care. The place was packed as expected when such a storm occurs.

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Drachon was watching through the window of the Dove by inn with interest, still concealed by his magic.Though he was invisible,a sharp pair of eyes may have possibly noticed a strange patch of air, where the rain seemed to be hitting nothing at all. The elf dismissed the thought, even if a being could see the silhouette created by the rain, most would dismiss it as a trick of the light. He had arrived here after following the almerkian man for a short period of time. When the man had met up with what the elf guess was an old friend and entered the inn, Drachon had almost followed behind him.At that moment the wind and the rain had both increased in intensity,and the elf knew that this was a message for him to stay back, but he couldn't help think why he had to remain a spectator. He drew in a deep breath, the goddess Elstii has never betrayed his trust before, and he had faith she wouldn't start now.

To pass the time, Drachon had decided to scope out the citizens in the bar, most of them seemed look run of the mill people, but there were a select few that caught his eye. One of the more noticable ones was what appeared to be a young human boy with a wind sprite riding his shoulder, conversing with and anithrope. After closer inspection, Drachon noticed that the boy had pointed ears,he couldn't keep himself from smiling, another elf! Well, half elf, the boy was short for an elf, and his ears didn't seem to reach as tall as most elves,but still it overjoyed him nonetheless. He then turned his attention to the anithrope, it seems that it was a wolf anithrope by the shape of his body and face, though there seemed to be a certain....darkness to him. He soon redirected his gaze to the almerkian he had followed here, and the other almerkian he was talking with. something about this other almerkian struck Drachon as odd, nothing was out of the ordinary with him on the outside, he was acting perfectly normal....perhaps too perfectly. The elf jumped slightly when all of the sudden a human sitting at the bar had another patron face down against the bar with a punch dagger to his throat. The elf chuckled silently, well, theres another one to keep an eye on.

After a few more minutes of watching, Drachon sensed that this is when he should make his entrance. The shimmering aura faded, revealing the elf, who by that time was soaked head to toe in rain, though he didn't mind. He opened the door and walked into the inn, making a puddle on the floor as the door was slammed shut by the wind, bringing everyone's eyes to him. He stood frozen for a minute before nodding to the others in the inn, the soon went about their business as usual. Drachon, feeling terribly out of place, swiftly walked over to the table with the Half elf boy with the wind sprite and the wolf anithrope. He had taken a seat across from the boy and lowered his hood, making his pointed ears seen. He would look at the boy and then speak, his voice soft and musical as he spoke in elvish "do you speak the elvish tongue" he had looked at the boy with an almost pathetic desperation, desperate for some taste of his homeland.

Rain pitter pattered on the edge of the dock that she had just landed on. Boats covered the port area most like,y with the same mind set. Stay the hell out of trechourous seas..one has less rate of survival on bad seas. It was amazing how demons thought themselves above nature, It just made her laugh as she took her witches hat and dries it out in the ran for no reason. The long blackish blue locks of her hair were let lose by the wind, waving against her back.

Well , now it was about time she figure out abouts where she landed? The world was so big that setting one's self to a single destination sounds..calous to her. With those words in mind her hands placed the hat back onto her head. It was time to search for an inn, or even a tavern , nai?

It seemed the only tavern around was the one just off the dock. A strange place to only have one inn? Or maybe she just desired for their to be only one inn, and thus all other choices were stripped from her mind, Before heading for the inn, she placed both hands together calling forth her spirtual black panther. Five days without magic couldn't be so bad in this place?

She walked up to the shaggy door, opening the door without a care. The place was packed as expected when such a storm occurs. A man around age 26 with an interesting build was sitting next to a young boy with a sprite. There was also an elf sitting at that same table. Interesting mix of people there...Well there weren't any open tables so it looked like the counter was the way to go. This time she could successfully ring out her hair and hat. Even the sloshy sound of her boots made her want to laugh. Her hip pressed against the counter.

" Hey, Barkeep, Do you have any good food?" She asked placeing three gold coins on the table.

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Darakus laughed. An actual laugh, which was rare for him, startled nearly everyone in the bar, even the Bartender, who had been on his guard all the while that Darakus had been there was gaping. Ignoring them all, the hybrid said rather jokingly "Kid, you apparently don't know me, so I'll just say it. It's your scent. I knew what you were the moment I sniffed in your direction. the name's Darakus, by the way." at this point the elf had walked up to the trio and asked a very sensible question. One that Darakus would have asked next if the elf had not said anything. Darakus of course, would have asked it in english and in a slightly more unproffesional manner.

"Do you speak the elvish tongue?" the Elf asked Farish, apparently forgetting that there was another being at the table. Although this annoyed Darakus, he knew what would happen to him if he acted impulsively, and so he just remained silent. After all, he only knew a small amount of Elvish, and was just guessing to fill in the things he couldn't interpret. Before Farish could answer the elf, Darakus cleared his throat, if nothing else to make his presence known, then went back to staring into nothingness.

Jerakea, masquerading as Borasan, beamed when the innkeeper asked what he would like to eat and, remembering the favorite thing Borasan ate, Jerakea chuckled and boomed, "My good man, I would assume that for one such as I, you would remember my meal of choice. No matter, I shall take the Smoked Boar and a tankerd of you finest mead." Then turning toward a paticular table out of interest, he noticed his 'quarry' so to speak, sitting there with an elf and a human... No, the scent was that of a halfling. Wait, another halfling! this really got his attention, although not enough of it to betray who he was. he turned his attention back to Morys. "What say we test that strength of yours while we wait on our meal, old friend?" he asked, knowing he could best Borasan's former subordinate, "There is a training area not too far from here if you would like to wait on that. I expect you to have improved. After all, If the war had gone on much longer, you would have been promoted!" He laughed, as this last statement was actually true. the war had ended three days before they would have moved Morys up a rank.

When the food arrived, he took a swig of the mead and a huge bite of the boar's head. his peripheral vision was still focused on the Anithrope's group, as they began to converse amongst each other. when he saw the one he suspected to be his son pull the charm out and give it away freely, he began thinking to himself. ~He may be making friends, and with another halfling at that, but if I were to reveal myself to him here, it would draw too much attention unless...~ he decided to try it, and turned his attention back toward Morys. "I am afraid liquor runs through me quite easily these days. You will have to exuse me, my friend." and he went into the restroom. Entering a stall he muttered "Sralel Kearinos Exalal Gramot." and the Shifter's appearance changed to that of a young waiter who had taken the day off.

As he exited the restroom, he made his way over to the table and asked "What may I get you two sirs?" to Darakus and Drachon respectively. Darakus sighed. just his luck, more people to bother him, and this young man probably expected a tip! Noticing the scowl Darakus gave him, Jerakea decided it best to turn his attention toward Drachon, who didn't seem as hostile to the offer of a meal.

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Shoulder Demon: (Looking at controls of train) "Let's see how many times we can wreck this thing before we're all dead."

Shoulder Angel: "Are you crazy?!?!?! you'll get us all killed!!!!!!"

Shoulder Demon: "That's the idea, Moron!"

With his questions answered, Farish's expression softened a bit. "Oh, so that's it," he spoke. "I didn't know people could do such things." The boy was actually somewhat impressed that he'd met someone here with such a talent. His final word "impressive" had barely left his mouth when, to his great surprise, an elf joined their table.

Farish was aware of his mouth opening slightly in surprise, and he worried, for a moment, that he was to be berated for soiling proud elven blood. The expression on the man's face, however, quickly banished this idea. His was a look of loneliness and of pleading desperation. Perhaps, being far from elven lands, he was willing to accept any sort of remotely elvish company.

"Do you speak the elvish tongue?" the fair-haired man asked, and the sound was soft and sweet. It had been a while since Farish heard another speaking elvish, and he'd almost forgotten what a graceful language it was in comparison to English. Darakus cleared his throat, possibly out of irritation. That was understandable, he supposed.

Farish offered a somewhat sympathetic smile to the elven man and responded in his own young, sweet-sounding elvish. "Yes, I do. My name is Farish Ke'il. You seem lonely, sir." He introduced himself promptly, and spoke respectfully, as his mother taught him he should when speaking to his elders (the elvish ones, anyway). He continued in English, so as to not completely leave out Darakus, who'd turned to staring into space.

"These are my friends: Chizu and Darakus. And your name, sir?" As they conversed a waiter came to take their orders. Since Farish already had food, he would have simply ignored the young man, had Chizu not started growling at him. "Akuma! Bakemono! Oni! grrrr..." The words came out in nearly indecipherable purrs like any the Wind Sprite spoke, but the half-elf grasped them. Farish looked with surprise between Chizu and the young waiter who had just appeared. It didn't surprise him Chizu might be able to identify a demon, but he couldn't see anything off about the man. And why such a strong reaction?

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Laraine focused on her mirror once again. Instead of focusing on the object itself or the person who carried it, she instead focused on the whereabouts to paint a bigger picture. This time, she saw an inn. It would have taken her some time to recognize it, except that the innkeeper and the barkeep were fully visible, but she could only partially recognize one patron. His image was faded as if she could only vaguely remember what he looked like. The name Borasan came to her mind, and his image flashed behind her eyelids, so why else would he be faded?

Now is not the time to worry about details! Laraine mentally scolded herself. What mattered was, she now had an idea of where to send the ship's large crew, but how to relay the message? She smiled slyly, already knowing the answer to her own mental question.

Standing, the lady Almerkian stood, her pale skin a sharp contrast against her thick and long, black hair. As she walked to the door, her silken maroon robe trailed across the floor. Laraine opened the door that lead out of the chambers to the main hall of the castle, and she shouted, "PENKO!" The simple name was all she needed for her loyal servant to come, she was sure, and he had just the ability she needed.

Penko arrived within a few short minutes. Since the door was ajar and Penko had not seen either the mistress, nor Chaos lately, he knocked on the wall without peeking inside. Seeing the mistress when she wasn't decent was punishable by death.

"Come in," Laraine said, her voice sharp with impatience.

"Yes, my lady?" Penko asked. He was a grey skinned demon, still fairly young and about the same height as the Almerkian woman.

"Tell these fools when they reach the port, that they are to go to the Dove by Inn!"

Penko's ability is telepathy, and he easily relayed the message to the captain.

~~~~~

Morys raised a brow at the captain. He knew that back in the days of the war, he would have never hoped to have defeated Borasan. Now however, the man looked as though he had not trained in quite some time and spent more time drinking mead than he should have. Still, it wouldn't seem right to defeat a legend, and would probably give the young blonde Almerkian more attention than he wanted.

"Thanks for the offer, Borasan, but I must decline, for I have prior engagements," Morys replied respectfully. He sat back, slouching in his seat, and wondering where his food was. That thought was still on his mind when Borasan brought something to his attention that was more information than he needed.

After the squadron captain left to find the restroom, Morys noticed a man he didn't recognize sitting at the bar. His clothing was soaked from neck to foot, but that could have just been a product of the rain. Morys's own leather armor was plastered to his skin. He also noted an Elf had joined the Anithrope and human boy, and that one of the drunkards had passed out on the floor.

~~~~~

The Demon captain and his first mate followed Penko's orders which he was told was forwarded from the mistress herself. When he found the inn in question, he only vaguely noticed the sign of a dove in flight with the words: 'Dove by Inn, ALL are welcome.' The three words beneath the flying dove made the Demon sneer.

The two demons entered the inn, noting that it was full of patrons, many of them locals with a few who stuck out in the crowd. A group of drunken men, as well as most of the Almerkians immediately left the inn upon seeing the Demons' horns. The captain reasoned that whoever held the item they sought would have more moxy.

"Who here has 'picked up' our artifact? It is black and orange in color and very dear to us," the Captain stated, walking further into the room and surveying the area. At first glance, the only one they would have a problem with fighting would be, most likely, the wolf Anithrope as their animalistic strength almost rivaled in-human strength of Demons. Almost. They were still outnumbered, for the moment.

~~~~~

The sound of sliding metal broke through the still air as Morys drew one of his two swords. "I assure you that no one here would steal," the Almerkian said, having noticed the implications the demon had used. He was also fully aware that he held the object.

"Just to be sure," the first demon who had walked in said, and without looking at his companion he added, "Go bring the others. Blood is about to spill."

The bell tied to the inn's door sounded as the second demon who had walked in walked back out and he started shouting things in his own language. Morys stood and drew his second sword, daring the captain to come attack him, and the demon obliged, drawing his own cutlass and rushing at him with a challenging roar.

Morys didn't flinch when their swords collided with a loud CLANG! The stronger demon forced Morys back against the table, but he still had one sword free.

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Drachon had not forgetten about the man he had followed, but he had pushed it to the back of his mind as he couldn't believe his luck in finding another with elvish blood here, of all places. The anithorpe cleared his throat, perhaps he was agitated that the elf had not recognized his presence, but that mattered not. When the boy had replied in elvish, Drachon's look of desperation had been replaced with a look of unbridled joy."yes i do, my name is Farish Ke'il, you seem lonely, sir".

Drachon had nodded in agreement, when he had left for his adventure he had no idea how much he would truly miss his home. the elf sighed and replied, the elvish still sounding sweet, but it had taken on a tone of sorrow "yes, i have left my home of keymoust a little over three weeks ago, and have been yearning for some taste of the elvish lands" Drachon quickly dispelled the sorrow as a wide grin spread across his face "a taste which you have given me, for which i thank you." He tilited his head forward, as he felt that standing and bowing, while normal in elvish lands, would be seen as odd in this place.

Then the boy switched to english, a language which while Drachon knew how to speak, he often did not, as the words felt odd in his mouth whenever he spoke. "These are my friends:Chizu and Drakus. And your name sir?" The elf answered, the english feeling odd and bulky as he spoke it "my name is Drachon it is a pleasure to meet all of you" He nodded at the wind sprite and the anitrope, who had taken to staring into space, when a young man made his way over.

"What may i get for you two sirs?" the young man had asked, Drachon opened his mouth to reply when the wind sprite on Farish's shoulders began to growl. He was unable to make out what the sprite was saying, but the elf could tell that it was nothing good.Drachon eyed the young man suspiciously, why would the wind sprite have such a negative reaction to what looked like a normal young man. Just as he went to say something, two demons had barged into the bar, looking for something. "Who here has 'picked up' our artifact?it is black and orange in color and very dear to us." Just then the man who Drachon had followed here had stood, one of his swords drawn "I assure you that no one here would steal." The elf now knew that the dark magic he had sensed from the item this man was carrying must have been the artifact the demon had mentioned, the pieces were starting to fall into place.

The demon who seemed to be in charge had sent the other away to go and bring reinforcements. The demon who had stayed then charged at the man, their swords colliding with the sound of metal on metal as he forced the man back. Drachon leaped to his feet quickly, his bow in hand with an arrow already drawn and ready to fire, aimed at the demons head. He spoke in elvish, the tone harsh and cold "leave here lest your soul be sent to whatever devilish god you serve." as he said this the door opened and eight more demons appeared, along with what seemed to be their commander. Drachon knew that against such a large amount of demons they would have no hope, they needed to escape. He closed his eyes, calling upon his magic as he spoke in rapid elvish "Thianna, goddess of all that is good and fair, shine thy blessed light upon this place and let the wicked be blinded by your glory" when he opened his eyes a bright light had appeared, filling the room and blinding all in it. He quickly sheathed his bow and reached out, grabbing the man and the half elf boy, sprinting his way out the back of the inn.

Both Darakus and Jerakea, whom were both able to see well in the dark, but vulnerable to light, were momentarily blinded by the light that Drachon had called forth. Jerakea, however, used the confusion to shift forms to a 15 foot tall soot black dragon with blood red eyes and yellowish scaled wings. As no one could see at the moment, he had the element of surprise on his side, and as Drachon was running out the back, his secondary weapon came into play. As soon as the Demons that had come to retrieve their loss could see again, he burned three of them alive with fiery breath of an unnatural blueish-green, and then while they were screaming in pain, he devoured them.

Darakus, who got his eyesight back less quickly than his father, was more than shocked at the Devilish-looking Dragon appearing as if out of nowhere, but he got over it when one of the demons charged at him thinking he was unarmed and managed to give him yet another scar down his left arm. Darakus said nothing as the demon who had attacked him thrust his blade forward to impale him. He simply reached into his 2 inch seemingly normal pouch and drew a five foot sword to counterattack with. as he blocked the surprised demon's advancing sword and pushed it back, he made a move to line up the sword vertically with the attacker's body. "What you gonna do if the thing can't even touch me?" the demon gloated in the Demonic tongue that Darakus had learned after leaving his mother.

"It doesn't have to," Darakus responded as he touched a small trigger on the hilt and four Scythe-like spikes impaled the demon's forehead, chin, neck, and rib-cage. as the rest of the demons were killing off patrons, Darakus decided to follow the Elf's example and exit towards the back. Jerakea, seeing this, was conflicted. He would have liked to see his son show more power than that, yet he was running away. Why? he had to find out, but he also enjoyed combat, a little too much if you were to ask his wife. Too bad she was dead.

Jerakea finally decided that he would follow his son, perhaps out of wanting an heir, who knows? As he left, his massive figure turned to that of Borasan once again. "The more deceitful, the better." he said as he crouched behind a bar so as to not be seen during the transfiguration. Following his son, who had caught up to Drachon by now, he silently cursed himself for choosing such a loud mouthed general and when he had the chance, he ducked into an alley, shifting to an Assassin by the code name of The Demon's Shadow. Although he preferred the direct approach, and he was more skilled masquerading as a warrior, her abilities could come in handy at times like this. She (for Jerakea could impersonate women just as well as men) was soon in Darakus' shadow. Literally. His secondary weapon in her form was the ability to become any demonic figure's shadow, and it proved rather useful, what with Chizu's reaction to him earlier. He still didn't understand how she knew, but better to not draw more attention, right?

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Shoulder Demon: (Looking at controls of train) "Let's see how many times we can wreck this thing before we're all dead."

Shoulder Angel: "Are you crazy?!?!?! you'll get us all killed!!!!!!"

Shoulder Demon: "That's the idea, Moron!"

It was always Farish's opinion that fights were able to start unnaturally fast. He'd just barely gotten to hear his new Elf friend's name before a pair of demons strode into the Inn and quickly stirred up a small war. Drachon stood up to the intruders commendably, though the boy doubted they had any idea what he was saying. Others in the tavern were already battle ready by the time reinforcements showed up for the demons, and the situation grew hectic. On instinct, the half-elf began scanning the scene for injured people or bystanders caught in the crossfire, when he noticed what Drachon was saying. Taking an educated guess, Farish shielded his eyes quickly enough to dodge the initial blast of light. However, before he could readjust to the situation, he felt a hand grab onto his shirt collar and drag him away.

As he and Drachon escaped through the back door, Farish blinked at the rain and the darkness of the overcast sky. Farish accepted a moment of silence save for the rain, then spoke out. "Chizu and I should go back," he offered in Elvish. The boy continued before the Elf could argue. "You probably guessed we're not fighters, but there were some promising warriors in there. Those people can focus on taking down the demons. On the other hand, I excel in using defensive magic, and Chizu has healing capabilities." The halfling smiled up at the man who'd been kind enough to try an help him. "You understand, don't you, Drachon?" And so, whether it was kind or just plain foolish, the half-elf turned and went right back in the way he came, slipping around Darakus as he came jogging out.

Inside was chaos, as he'd left it. Chizu seemed to approve of the decision he'd made and looked ready for action-- even if she wouldn't really be fighting. Almost at the same time, they noticed a patron, fallen and bleeding. The two rushed over and Chizu hopped down from the boy's shoulders. Surrounding herself in a pale blue light as she stood weightlessly atop the victim's wounds. Farish knelt down beside them to supervise.

A demon with a mace who was somehow unoccupied noticed them and smirked, raising his weapon and strutting over. "You shoulda gone back to yer mama, boy," the demon threatened, smiling, even though Farish couldn't understand a word of the demonic language. As the demon swung his mace, the boy held up a hand, and the demon's weapon collided with some invisible force that sent him sprawling backwards. The boy lowered his hand and stood up, taking a deep breath to establish a steady flow of mana within himself. I am a guardian, the boy thought, anchoring himself into a strong, willful mindset to further strengthen his barriers. I will protect those who need it. As he focused, a colorless aura strengthened around him. As the demon from before recovered and went into a state of rage, Farish stood at the ready.

The boy's hair and clothes were stirring in the magical wind surrounding him. Unlike attack magic, there was never a need to hold back with defensive magic. Well, most people had to worry about saving energy, but the elf boy traveled with a Sprite companion, and they could restore stamina as well as health. Finally, he wasn't in the habit of taking chances when the safety of others was involved. For such a situation, the boy didn't look frightened, angry, or exited. His expression was sober-- it was the magic swirling around him that seemed brimming with emotion, rather than the child wielding it. "It's your choice to attack or not, but your strength will only be turned against you." Behind him, the man on the ground was almost healed already.

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Sen made it a point to mind his business when he sat at the table across from the odd group. He leaned back in his chair propping his right arm on the table and stretched his legs out a bit before letting them relax into a comfortable position. Slowly Sen ran a hand over his bald head. It almost felt foreign to him. When his soup arrived he merely stirred it with the spoon and glanced around the room, taking in the new faces arriving and making small mental notes of ones that were already in place. A drunk man with a loud laugh sat behind Sen somewhere. Another man lost at a game of cards in the back corner even though he cheated a near perfect hand. Then a faerie entered, catching Sen's attention. She was a night faerie but not one he recognized from when they took him in. This was indeed turning into an interesting day.

He then turned his peripheral back to the motley crew that seemed to be the center of attention. The wolf anithrope had a certain...look about him. Slightly unpleasant and dangerous. He was definitely not the one to be taken lightly here. The boy and his wind sprite seemed to charm up to the wolf quite well however, which was interesting to say the least. Then a much more pronounced Elf made his way to their table, more specifically the boy, and introducing himself. This boy sure had a way of making friends, even if he was reluctant to do so. Then there was a waiter of suspicious nature who interrupted the group and that was something the wind sprite certainly didn't like. Sen didn't known how he knew but he knew sprites knew danger, and evidently this waiter was dangerous but Sen couldn't place it. He could however, smell mal-intent lingering in the air. And almost as if on cue the main entrance of the Inn opened and a crew of demons strolled in demanding a lost item. Sen knew fighting and this was going to escalate into a fight quickly. But he had no reason to be involved so Sen merely sipped his tea and watched the inevitable battle ensue.

It started when a man clashed blades with one of the demons near the bar and seconds later a magical beam of light blinded the entire room. The initial blast seemed to originate from the main Elf at the motley table. Sen having a major sensitivity to bright bursts of light barely had enough time to cover his eyes. Instantly a migraine took over his body and brought him to a knee on the floor, trying to shake it off. Slowly his vision came back, just in time to see a few of the demons burning in unnatural flame. Sen looked over the table and saw the wolf anithrope locking blades with a demon, killing him with an interesting feature on his blade, something Sen made a good mental note of.

Slowly Sen brought himself to his feet and stumbled past the wolf as his vision continued to return steadily. The migraine however was ever present and nearly disorientating. But then a rough hand grabbing his shoulder snapped Sen right out of his daze and instantly brought out his killer instinct. Without hesitation he spun in the direction of the assaulting hand, knocked it away and slammed his palm into the demon's throat, instantly gripping its trachea. With a low growl Sen lifted his victim off the floor slightly before delivering the final pounds of pressure to crush the demon's throat then letting its' corpse drop to the ground. Seeing this two other demons rushed Sen swords drawn. Sen dodged their simultaneous attack by leaning backwards and flinging off his cloak, revealing his tattered shirt, exposed arms, leather shoulder pauldrens, the kukri blade at his side and the twin punch-daggers sheathed on his back. "Time for subtleties is over..." he thought to himself as he reached back and pulled out both daggers. In an expert flash of movement Sen knocked an incoming swing away from him, parried the other, sliced through a leg artery, deflected another overhand strike, then promptly cut both their throats.

In the mist of the fighting Sen caught a glimpse of the boy and his sprite helping and trying to heal people. The boy focused on defensive magic while the sprite healed the wounded patrons of the bar. The look on the boy's face betrayed nothing in the fact he likely has done this before and is no stranger to combat. Feeling a sense to at least give some of these people a fighting chance Sen ran over to the boy and proceeded to snap the demon's neck after it bounced back off the boy's barrier.

"You heal them up and get them out of here. I'll keep them off of you." Sens' voice was direct and louder than normal to compensate for battle before him. An interesting day indeed...

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"Told me to prove to them what I was worth
We’ll teach you to move without mercy and give you the tools to go after the causers of hurt
You'll become death. You will take breath
This is for everything you’ve ever loved
Use all the pain that you’ve felt in your life as the currency go out and trade it for blood
You are not you. You are now us
We are the only ones that you can trust
You’ll become fear. They’ll become dust
Before this moment you didn't mean much
You are the smoldering vessel of punishment born to do nothing but justify us"

Either the demon with the mace was overestimating himself, underestimating Farish, or had never encountered a magic barrier before, because he charged again as soon as he'd steadied himself. The heavy metal weapon was lifted high above his head, perhaps to use gravity for extra strength when the attack hit... or it was just meant to look flashy. Either way, when the blow came down it was interrupted. It contacted with the boy's force field then repelled the blow. The demon stumbled backwards a few steps and promptly had his neck broken by one of the better fighters in the room, a large, bald man with twin punch daggers.

"You heal them up and get them out of here. I'll keep them off of you." The man was shouting to compensate for the noise of the battle. The boy breathed deeply, allowing the aura to fade and dissipate, then he nodded and smiled at the man. "Thank you."

They each turned back to their own jobs. One by one Farish and Chizu saw to the sprawling injured and directed them to the back exit, while meanwhile, the big man ended any demons that got too close to their portion of the tavern. It would seem that this level of ambush was manageable with the people sheltering themselves from the rain that day. Farish smiled and held Chizu in his arms as she jumped up at him after healing the last of the Inn patrons. The boy took a moment more to observe what was left of the battle and called out. "We're done, Sir. You can meet my friends outside when you've finished." It was only a suggestion, but Farish thought this big man, though dangerous as an opponent, didn't seem like a bad person. Chizu didn't seem to have any notable problems with him either. The Wind Sprite climbed up her friend to stand with a back paw on each shoulder and the other two on the top of his head, and they both took their leave casually out the back door.

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