You reach the town when it is dark. There is little need to search for your enemy, as they are exactly where Char and Dapple saw them last, still discussing and arguing the merits of going to find women versus staying at their posts. They are well lit from their lofty position, with the energy crackling on the halberd illuminating them well. The intellectual conversation between them has broken down into “Uh huh!” and “Un uh!” back and forth.

Those of you who chose stealth for your approach have no difficulty as they are truly not paying attention and are so loud you could move a division in without them hearing. Kilgim says a quick prayer and casts a protection from Lightning bolts on Arien, as he will be an attraction to the electrical energy of that halberd in all his armour. Matthias tries to use a powerful charm on the ugly brother but it seems to be highly magic resistant.

(I assume Arien and Maximus will go first to draw the attack and present a better target to the archers, backstabbers and spellcaster)

As Arien and Maximus prepare to charge in against them, The White Haired one stops to look around and listen. He turns to his brother, “Hold…my brother. We are…being approached…by great…warriors.”

“What? Who dares approach us?”

“Unless I…am mistaken….and…I never…am. We are…about to face…Arien Thedell… and his…Succoring Six!”

“The famous Demon Slayers? Are you sure?”

“Aye…my brother. I have…all their…action figures…at home. If we…slay them,...there…will be much…glory and…fame…for us.”

“I wish to face Maximus the Mighty, whose blade can cut 100 demons in half with a single swing. Come, test your sword against me!” he shouts out to the darkness and leaps from the chimney top to the ground. When he lands, the force is so great that the dirt ripples away from him in a shockwave circle. High above, the flying one gestures dramatically with his halberd and electrical energy discharges from it in lightning bolts striking the ground and buildings around them.

OOC: Combat time. You all agreed on different approached but no one was specific. I also wanted to give you a chance to react to the brothers.

Char had his doubts about how effective his bow was going to be on a creature that could hover and command lightning from his weapon, but a plan was a plan. So, as they drew near, the woodsman took up a position that gave him both a nice line of site unobstructed by the knight and ex-gladiator's approach, as well as providing him with a quick approach once it was apparent that he'd have to engage in melee.

Then, as everyone else readied themselves, the brothers seemed to take notice, and their conversation turned strange indeed. Char's brow furrowed as the halting speech from the first brother indicated that he was aware of their pending attack. An arrow was knocked and the string drawn to his cheek as the ranger took into consideration the wind and weather, paring it with distance and necessary arch.

Then his mouth turned down in a frown when the brother declared them as Arien Thedell and His Succoring Six. Wot da bloo'y 'ells? Still, Char never took his eyes off of the lightning-flinging brother--the one Char deemed most dangerous at this time. Da beasties know us, an' dey've given us a name, eh? So be i'. Time t' show 'em wot we ca'do!
With that, the ranger's arrow flew, followed swiftly by second.

(OOC: Char's intentions are to remain ranged so long as his arrows prove to be useful. Once he deems them no longer effective, or an ally moves into melee combat with the enemy, he will charge forward, shouldering his bow as he goes and unsheathing his kukri. He's used to fighting alongside Arien, so that will be whom he goes forward to help, unless the other fellow is between them.)

Maximus looking to Arien and the others could not help but laugh when he heard the chimney sitting creature’s reference to him.

“I wish to face Maximus the Mighty, whose blade can cut 100 demons in half with a single swing. Come; test your sword against me!”

Knowing the plan and not waiting for the Knight, Maximus wheeled his horse around, looking to Arien as he prepared to charge, sword of ‘Demon’ slaying to hand.

“So knight, do you want to live forever!”

A kick to the horses flanks and Maximus was on the charge......

Kilgim listened to the description Char and Dapple gave with sadness and anger in his eyes. What kind of creatures were these two men? If men they were. Who could devastate a town killing everyone in their path and then talk about it afterwards in such a casual manner? For a moment the dwarf felt like he was in the war again. And war was probably exactly what it had felt like for the people in the town as well when the terrible duo had begun to tear it down. War... War never changes...
Kilgim resisted the urge to vent his anger. He wanted to scream and shout and to let his feelings show. There were times when the priest could remain impassive and apparently without feeling, but in the face of such slaughter he didn't want to. Kilgim Blackaxe wanted revenge, he wanted to kill. There would be no mercy for the creatures that had laid waste to the town... The possibility of him and his group not being powerful enough to take the enemy down did not even cross his mind as Kilgim summoned forth the power of Clangeddin and cast a protection spell on Arien. "Ye'll 'ave some protection against lightnin' now lad, but it won't last fer lon'"

When they finally laid eyes on the doom of Hevlorn, Kilgim could not hold back a feeling of awe. He shook it away in disgust immediately, but still he had to wonder about the power of the duo. They surely looked like something out of this world with their nearly gigantic proportions and strange appearances. Of course the world held its own secrets and not every horrible and impossible seeming creature had crawled out of the Abyss. These... Kilgim couldn't tell. He only knew they had to be stopped and the ones to stop them had just arrived to Hevlorn.

Neither of the enemy appeared to be wounded or injured in anyway. And to Kilgim that meant one of two possibilities. Either the townsmen had been too terrified or taken by complete surprise to put up a fight or the huge men had some kind of magic protecting them. No matter how good someone was in the art of combat, it was very close to impossible to stay unscathed when facing dozens of opponents simultaneously. And in the case of a magical protection, such a thing could prove to be very dangerous to Kilgim and his friends.

But even if the appearance of the two strange warriors took Kilgim by surprise, what they said next was even a greater surprise. Apparently they knew who Arien and his group were. An' somehow t' bastards know o'what we've done too. What t'hell's goin' on in 'ere?" The dwarf spat on the ground, rolled his shoulders and prepared to attack. Well me don't give a damn 'bout what it means... His thought was cut off by the words of the handsome one:

Aye…my brother. I have…all their…action figures…at home. If we…slay them,...there…will be much…glory and…fame…for us.”

Action figures? What in Clangeddin's name is 'e babblin' 'bout? Me'll show ye some glory'n fame, ye bastard! Before he could come up with a plan, Kilgim saw Maximux charging towards the beastman. "Maximus, you fool! Wait fer me!" The cleric jumped off the back of Grumpy, brandished his axes ran after Maximus as fast as his short legs would let him.

It was wrong, all wrong. Two supernatural beings level a town, killing as many as possible, but let survivors escape – witnesses to tell the inevitable “rescue” party what lay ahead. The two beings wait in the middle of town, clear lines of sight all around them, on the most visible point in town, talking loudly so their location and inattention could not be mistaken.

Perhaps this was a bigger scale than Dapple was accustomed to – and the poisoned needle was more proverbial than actual, but Dapple recognized a trap when she saw one. She was relieved when the others apparently recognized the danger as well, but when the “plan” turned into what amounted to walking into the trap anyway, her heart sank. In her heart of cold little hearts, she’d come to realize that Arien’s idea of tactics was to charge right in, regardless of the situation, but to have everyone else agree and rush right in?

You weren’t speaking up with alternatives, little monster...so you are finally listening to me. Let everyone else spring the trap, then you can slip in under the cover of the inevitable slaughter to discover the prize.
Dapple wasn’t convinced there was a prize, but didn’t argue. It would just lead to more discomfort, and she’d do as the voice urged anyway, and a full on attack from a smallish hand-to-hand fighter didn’t seem like a winning strategy, either. So, when the others left to take their places for the attack, Dapple glided along behind, wrapped in her cloak and her thoughts of non-being. Before reaching the bend in the road, where they’d agreed to split up, Dapple reached into her clothing and drew out the drowsy Sunset, the little dragonet’s jewelled eyes blinking slowly.

She edged her horse closer to an overhanging branch and held Sunset up to it until the creature reluctantly climbed onto the branch, shortened tail grasping it like a fifth limb. ‘There’s no place for little beauties like you up ahead,” Dapple whispered to Sunset,” and it’s going to get dangerous fast. Stay safe, and …if we don’t come back, you get away from here, alright?” She patted the dragonet’s head awkwardly and nudged her horse away, pushing away regret and worry into icy nothingness.

The beautiful brother (for so Dapple had labelled them in her mind: the beautiful brother and the ugly brother) seemed to be able to detect their approach, though it was probably not difficult. As Arien and Maximus spurred themselves forward into a direct attack, Dapple dismounted and melted into the shattered streets of Helvorn, blending into the rubble as best she could. She noted where each of her companions were headed and made for a spot well away from each of them, but with an approach to the tall chimney that had what little cover was available. For now, Dapple would watch and wait; she was outside the useful range for thrown daggers and wouldn’t move closer until the brothers were well and truly distracted.

This was what Adrian had been waiting for. A real dogfight. He hadn't felt the thrill of a real battle since the tower. A brawl in the streets and undercity was nice for a cheap night out, and it surely toughened him up, but he couldn't use his magic there as liberally as he wanted to.

These guys murdered an entire town. They turned it to rubble. But what's worse... They challenged him. Sure he felt bad for the people and their town, but he had played the part of the hero, or rather Arien had played it for them. This thunderous weapon commanded a powerful energy. He would surely identify it later and hopefully find a way to harness it's power.

But first the wizard brother needed to be disarmed of his toy. Jal was gone, and Valentine didn't trust Matthias's skills. Everyone was charging. It was up to him to duel the one who pauses in speech. And him alone.

Conjuring up an armor spell, Adrian began to prepare what he would need. Fly to be sure, possibly even dispel magic, but he didn't want to hurt the sword. Web, perhaps?

No, that could wait - he would first test this man's ability to use his weapon for something other than flinging projectiles. That was the way of the Red... the lazy, unfit, and pathetic Red that Valentine once was.

With a few words, he finished the gestures needed to protect himself.

(OOC: Armor, then Fly, then flight, then fight!!)

The massive demon (with very little hair) charges towards Maximus, running swiftly and then leaping through the air with the great thrust of his hands and legs. He doesn’t attack the gladiator as much as barrels right into him, tearung him of the saddle and onto the ground.

Maximus has suffered worst falls before in the pits of the empire, and is quickly up on his feet and attacking with his sword. The first blow is a good one, solid and directly to the monsters neck. The sword would take off most creature’s heads, but the edge is stopped halfway be something as hard and unmovable as the sword was sharp. Maximus jerks the sword free and attacks again. The blade deflects of the hide of the demon and goes wide, cutting only a single strand of hair from the scalp.

The demon bleeds profusely for a short time, and then its wounds heal almost instanteously before the warrior’s eyes. But the loss of the hair strand hurts it deeply. It cries out “No! NO! Not my fine flowing locks of beautiful hair! You fiend! You will die a thousand deaths for that you…fiend.”

Arien charges ahead upon Winston. Just as the fair looking demon gestures with the halberd to send a lightening blast toward them, Winston unfurls his wings and takes to the sky, dodging the bolt and taking the battle into the air. The Pegasus moves across the sky in a weaving fashion, dodging a multitude of deadly lightning thrown at them.

Char open fires with his bow, and three arrows are in the air while the white haired lightening flinger is occupied with Arien. The arrows strike true, causing him to reel back in the air with pain. His eyes turn blood red in anger and he gestures with the halberd towards Char. The bolt strikes the range true and the valiant man is brought down with its deadly energy. After the flash of light, there are only the burnt remains of the party’s faithful tracker.

“Alas…the famed ... Char...is...now…Charred.” The demon quips and looks around for a response. “Come on! These are …the jokes…people.”

Arien attacks with his flaming sword as he passes close to the demon, The flames do not seem to hurt it and the metal of the blade is like water on his flesh, passing through without hurting him, although the wooden shafts of doomed Char’s arrows stick in its body like flesh.

Valentine puts a mystic suit of armour upon himself as Char dies.

Matthias' follows a similar strategy and turns his skin to that of stone to ward off attacks.

Kilgim throws himself at the creature attacking Maximus. Battle-axe blades blur as the dwarf attacks with a vengeance, but the creature just heals as fast as Kilgim can strike.

Dapple knows when she is out-classed and decides to seek out the building where the demons were waiting. To her mind, there must be something here that they are guarding, like a passageway or a door. Inside the rubble, she finds only destroyed articles of life and dead bodies. But she hears a small noise from within, like the coo of a dove. Around the corner of the chimney, she peers and sees a woman, wrapped in a huge blanket and crying as she huddles and clings to herself.

The encounter had already started off surreal enough - the demons knew Arien and his comrades by name and reputation. Had they not been enemies of the foulest sort, it would have been flattering to know that the party's reputation for good deeds had grown. As it was, it was simply a bit disturbing to think of demons playing with dolls styled after the knight and his friends.

The fight was joined, and predictably, the halberd-wielding demon flung lightning at Arien. Far less predictably, Winston unfurled his wings and took flight to avoid the attack, as well as those that followed. The heir to House Thedell almost lost his seat from the mere shock alone - Winston was a fine steed, of that there was no doubt. Arien had known the horse as a colt among his father's herds, had ridden him through countless encounters as an adventurer. How could he have not known?

"You... you can fly?" the young knight sputtered, even as bolts of lightning crackled dangerously close to him. Dumbfounded, Arien found himself continuing to speak to the horse. "Why didn't you ever let me know before?"

Having no firsthand knowledge of talking animals, Arien was unprepared for the answer. "Simple," Winston responded in a deep baritone. "You never asked." Despite having to perform aerial dodges to defy death itself, the steed made a whinnying sound that was suspiciously akin to a chuckle - he was clearly pleased with himself.

A moment passed in which the knight again came dangerously close to losing his seat - Arien never expected an answer from the mount. A bolt of lightning flashed by and suddenly, it all made sense.

The lightning bolt, clutched in a fist, was the symbol for Heironeous. Arien had devoted his life to the causes championed by the deity - chivalry, honor, valor, justice. These demons, monstrous servants of dark forces, have attacked innocents, and the god's own clergy have shirked their responsibilities to protect the weak. Arien and his friends were here to right that wrong, to drive this wickedness away. Now, to assist in the cause, the knight's noble steed had been transformed into a pegasus (or perhaps has always been one, waiting for this moment).

It was divine intervention of the clearest sort. The Archpaladin himself had chosen Arien Aston Thedell the Third to champion his causes. Though currently unrecognized by church or title, Arien had most certainly been designated a paladin in sprit by the patron deity of such holy warriors.

The young knight felt honor, gratitude, and a quiet confidence flow through him. His entire life has been marching towards this very moment; he simply has been unable to see it before now. "Thank you, Heironeous," he whispered in prayer. "I will not let you down."

Char took the demon's fixation on Arien as an opportunity, and struck true three times with arrows. The enraged monster turned his wrath to the ranger, striking him down with unholy lightning, then having the gall to joke about the brave man's death. Arien felt gutted at the loss of his friend - the gruff, kind woodsman had always been the most dependable sort of comrade one could ever hope for. Now, however, was not the time to grieve.

Filled with righteous fury, Arien struck the demon hard with his enchanted blade, but neither ensorcelled steel nor blue flame seemed to have any effect on the monster. This was a new situation for the freshly chosen paladin - he had encountered monsters before who were immune to various weapons, but magical weapons of the power focused in Liun'naur were usually sufficient to hit anything Arien had ever faced. The young man was puzzled at this outcome when he notced the arrow shafts fired by his slain comrade still jutting out of the demon's flesh - where they had clearly inflicted damage.

The servant of Heironeous sheathed his sword and leaned forward. "Winston, can you gain some altitude? It would appear that our enemy is vulnerable to wooden weapons - let us see how he likes an aerial lance charge."

If that did not work? Well, it was clear that the heavens had a vested interest in the outcome of this battle. Arien was certain that honor and valor would yet carry the day.

The ranger's attention was pretty well split between the two demonfolk and the possibility of the brother's reinforcements as he crept within bow range. Despite this, he couldn't help but catch sight of some of the amazing occurrences underfoot.

The lightning flinging he'd expected--Arien's mount taking to wing he had not. He would've liked the opportunity to have studied the change in closer detail, not really understanding magic and thinking that perhaps their new wizard companion had tried to even the score a bit, but Arien's new tactic had provided the muddy woodsman with a unique opportunity.

Drawing back in quick succession, Char let fly three missiles faster than he'd ever done before. They tore through the rain with accuracy to strike the intended target true. Then the world slowed down. The white demon turned towards his offender with pain and rage in his eyes and quite suddenly, the slow motion world went into supersonic speed as lightning leapt from the halberd and hungrily reached out for him.

There was no pain. Char's vision was embraced with brilliant white energy, and then there was nothing more.

There were few occasions in which Dapple was caught flat-footed. Expecting the worst, she was usually not surprised by anything, but when Arien’s horse suddenly sprouted wings and took off (it was the sudden cessation of thudding hooves that made her look up), Dapple halted dead and stared open-mouthed. And so it was that she was watching, instead of creeping, when Char met his end.

She blinked in disbelief, a smirk ready to emerge when Char would spring up with a mocking laugh to attack again, soot-covered and shaggy. All she could hear above the roaring in her ears was her own heartbeat, counting out seconds until she realized that Char wasn’t getting up again, not ever.

Better this way. He was getting too chummy, and you were getting sloppy around him. Get moving and focus on the job, NOW!
Dapple stumbled into the shattered building, the lash of the dead voice the only thing she could feel. All else was cold, cold ice with its deadly edges and numbing grace. Shaking her head to clear it (ignoring the droplets that flew away as she did so)she cast about the remains of the room before her, but there was no other doorway that wasn’t a blasted hole. “What entranceway? What were they guarding? Was it all a ruse? The fireplace, maybe?”

The little thief padded to the fireplace, looking for tell-tale signs of secret passageways, but it was, indeed, merely a fireplace. If necessary, she mused, it would be a good way to get closer to handsome brother while remaining under cover…as long as she could fit.

A soft sound startled her, and she had daggers in hand before she identified the source, a heap of blankets. The blankets concealed a woman, crying softly and hugging the blankets to her self. Dapple cursed herself for not noticing sooner, and reminded herself that distraction was fatal.

“Stop your crying,” she told the woman roughly, her voice low.”Others are worse off, if you hadn’t noticed. What is this place? Why are the demons guarding it?”

After being slammed to the ground by the Demons initial rush Maximus had scored a number of good hits upon his foe however to no avail as the wounds, some quite serious, healed almost faster then they were made.

At first at a loss of what to do next he was given a crazy idea by the Demon himself.

“No! NO! Not my fine flowing locks of beautiful hair! You fiend! You will die a thousand deaths for that you…fiend.”
Quickly seeing a possible weakness Maximus lunged to the attack once more, trying to score wounds that would also remove hair. Maybe he could somehow use the Demon’s vanity against it and cause enough damage while it ’cried’ over its hair.

Yet even as he attacked something felt wrong to the ex-gladiator. This whole fight seemed staged somehow, as if in an arena for pleasure of a crowd, as really how could these creatures really know of each of them by name or deeds.

His eyes and movements concentrated on the foe before him his mind tried to find an answer to this feeling or wrongness. (Perception check asked for as needed, kind DM)

(OOC: Ok did not mention anything about Char’s death as the Ranger would be behind him and at the moment Maximus has no time to look behind him.)

The poor fellow. It seems this battle might be more taxing than we had first imagined. Adrian thought to himself as he dug through his pouch for the soft touch of a falcons feather. He needed a raptor, something aggressive.

The shimmering armor that engulfed his body gave him a bit of a feeling of protection. Adrian knew deep down that it wouldn't help him if another bolt of disintegrating energy flew at him.

All the more reason to go after the bastard. He could feel himself getting lighter as the mage began the complicated incantations and threw the feather to the skies.

It was a shame to lose such a fine warrior. First Jal, now Char. But this wasn't the time for mourning - this was a time for revenge.

(OOC: All for now, but I'll edit with a few comments on Arien's flight at a later time)

Stop your crying,” Dapple told the woman roughly, her voice low. “Others are worse off, if you hadn’t noticed. What is this place? Why are the demons guarding it?”

The woman started to rise and the sound that was crying turned to laughter. “Guarding? They are not guarding anything. They were protecting you from finding me!” She throws off her blankets and covering to reveal herself to Dapple. She looks human in form, but her ears are extremely elven, extending to half the size of her head, and well above the scalp. Her body is also an extreme of feminine, bearing a voluptuous figure that either defies gravity or has the aid of a corset of levitation. She wears no armour but has short cut dress of white and green that makes Dapple think of a school uniform. But what is most striking about her is her face, which is that of Dapple herself – a younger Dapple with hard evil eyes and a fierce grin on her face.

“Surprised?” the demon laughs cruelly, “You must have known that one day the monster would find a way to get out of you.” She mocked in the acid voice normally reserved for within Dapple’s head.

Char? Dead? Kilgim risked (not that there seemed to be any risk as the ugly brother appeared to ignore him at the moment) a look at where his friend was standing only a heartbeat earlier and only saw pile of charred remains. "No..." All o' this seems unreal... Gimme dragons or demons with pointy tales... But these two 'ave the power o'divine beings. We're no match t' 'em. Though not one to give up easily, doubt stared to crawl into Kilgim's heart...

As he turned back to face the monstrous being, another strange thing caught the priests eye. Arien and Winston were rising off the ground and the stallion had wings. "What in t' name o' Clanggedin is goin' on in 'ere?" "That 'orse ain't a pegasus fer sure" This ain't fer real!" The bald dwarf launched himself into another fray of attacks easily hitting the slowly moving mountain of a man with each strike... to no avail. The wounds healed as fast as if there'd been a small army of healers doing their magic to them.

Seeing that Maximus was in serious trouble and his axes were having no effect, Kilgim thought of another approach and circled around the enemy began calling upon the powers of his god. With the ugly face well in sight, the cleric finished the last syllables of the prayer to summon and cast an ever-lasting light at the demon's eyes. Maybe ye'll stumble on yer feet and 'it yer 'ead as ye fall

Dapple stumbled backwards in shock as everything she hated about herself stood before her and mocked her. Her elven features from her unnamed father that would have meant death for her and her mother had she been discovered, the womanly curves that had turned Tonno’s tauntings into something more sinister and attracted the attentions of the Greens, and the darkness within her that had made her do horrible, horrible things.

“It can’t be…I don’t look …,” Sapphirine whispered, covering her scarred ears and desperately waiting for the voice within to tell her what to do. For the first time in years, however, nothing responded, no bitter recriminations, no icy grip nor lash of pain, no words to guide her through her fear and sadness.

That’s just it, she thought to herself, Dapple may have been harsh, but I’m stronger for it. Dapple made me act when I would have cowered, crying in a corner.

“You know a lot about me,” Sapphirine straightened and confronted the demon, both fists clenched around dagger hilts,” I’ll give you that much, but it’s just wrong enough. Get outta my head and back to hell!” she yelled as she sprang at the demon’s head.

Dapple slashed with the daggers then followed with a spinning kick, boot heel aimed squarely at the hateful, mocking face.