The Journey Begins

Isador sat in the pub, he pick the table in the corner to maximize his eavesdropping radius. He drank his mead slowly and listened for hints as to where this demon cult could be hiding, he may still be part of the church but he had no intentions of giving up the search for evidence that the church is involved in foul play.  He had heard that the Cult had gotten hold of an ancient text for evil incantations, but that book was sealed away in the church vaults decades ago. So how did these cultists get their hands on it? Isador suspected the church gave it to them so that they would cause a commotion and the church would swoop in a deal with them thus increasing their already god-like status among the common people.

The sounds of battle could be heard whenever there was a lull in conversations in the pub, the Royal Army has been fighting alongside the Elves for days against the Orcs. The battle is fierce and no end is in sight. Isador decides that he has done enough reconnaissance for the day and headed back towards the Inn.

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Bognark watched as the humans started to push through the Orcs left flank and Calvary approach from the east (to the right of their rear flank). Bognark descended from the observation post and runs towards the Boss's tent. He runs past the injured and the barracks. He pushes through the flap of the tent and says "Boss! we'z got a prublem, de hummies and pointy ears are making a run true  our boys on the e'ft. Ponies come fram de back!" he paused and waited for a response "Boss, what we gon do?"

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The doctor hollers "we need christian!! this man is in critical condition" he tells a nurse to search for the cleric, the nurse runs all over the camp looking for the cleric. She frantically calls for her and continues running towards the clerics tent, she throws open the tent flap and sees no one inside. She grabs a nearby soldier and asks "Do you know where the cleric went!?" the soldier points towards the baths and continues on his way. The nurse barges in on the cleric as she was washing the blood from the days work from her body. "We need you in the hospital urgently!!"

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"here is your assignment" says the messenger to Alisa "All you have to do is infiltrate the orc camp and kill the Orc known as Phlegethon." he pulls the letter from his bag and hands it over to the woman. the leather case and wax seal indicated that it was from a high ranking nobleman and the bag filled with ample gold also said as much. 

the messenger starts to walk away, he mutters under his breath "man she's just as cold as they say", he climbs onto his horse and rides away.

The bath tents were secluded and dark; lit softly by scented candles.  The candles did not help much though, and the stench of death and war filled the air.  The tent flaps flew open, and light spread into the tent like wildfire.  Christiana's immediate reaction was to turn away and cover her exposed breasts.  The water sloshed around and she averted her blushed gaze into the depths of darkness.

"We need you in the hospital urgently!!", the nurse gasped.  Christiana's eyes shot open, and she quickly turned to face the nurse.

She nodded in affirmation, then said "I'll be there shortly." in a soft tone.  After the nurse left, Christiana jumped out of the bath and dried herself down.  Though she was slightly agitated that she was interrupted from her cleansing process, she didn't let those petty troubles cloud her judgement of the situation.  She stumbled over to the stained uniform draped over a chest, and quickly wrapped it on.  Then, she closed her eyes and softly recited an old prayer.  After she was done, she took in a large breath of air to prepare her nerves.

Christiana bolted out of the bath tent and raced past the cleric tent to the field hospital.  She approched the doctor, and looked past him to the maimed man.  Without a moments hesitation, she knew what she needed to do.  She couldn't afford to hesitate - as that could cost this man his life.  She flanked the doctor and approached the solider by his bedside.

"Hello there, solider...  Don't worry, this will only hurt for a second."  She closed her eyes and gently pressed her left hand over the man's bloodied head.  She recited an ancient language, and her brow scowled slightly in concentration as she began to connect with the soldier's inner spirit.

A soft glow began to emanate from Christiana's hand, then sparks of light fluttered from the glow and wrapped itself around the soldier's wounds.  A hum echoed through the hospital, and for a moment Christiana felt a sting of pain, a pain she had been so used to it hardly bothered her.

Christiana's eyes opened slowly, like she had been in a deep slumber.  She exhaustively staggered away from the bed containing the newly healed solider.

Phlegethon Nob-Grob sat in the main command tent, a large hand-drawn map lay out before him on a round wooden table.  The map detailed the battlefield and surrounding landscape, and Phlegethon appeared to be studying the details meticulously, as if he could find some sort of exploit.  Beside Phlegethon was a small elven woman, a former warrior who was captured in the nearby village.  A great, oversized cuff and chain restrained her to his throne, restricting her movements and preventing all escape. 

Although traditional orc leaders were constantly on the front lines, Phlegethon was intelligent enough to know that a good leader would make strategic decisions just as much as tactical ones.  However, Phlegethon was not equipped with spies, advisers or outside informants - instead, he had to make use of captives in order to grasp a better understanding of situations.

Phlegethon pointed a finger at a section of the map, causing the elf to flinch in fear, and demanded in a booming voice, 
"You say that the human reinforcements are not scheduled to come, but your elf brethren have not retreated as they normally do.  What, then, is their true intent?  Do they mean to confront my tribe in an all-out battle?  The very idea is preposterous!  They would need the entire empires might to face me."  

The elf shook her head in a display of feigned ignorance which Phlegethon saw passed.  However, before he could pursue the question any longer, another orc barged into the tent with news about the human reinforcements.  They were coming, and with a strong desire to finish the war once and for all.

"Good work, Bognark.  I will group with the men shortly - wait for my command."  The orc grunted in understanding of the simple command and proceeded to leave the tent to rejoin with his unit.

Phlegethon turned towards the elven captive as he arose from his throne.  His hand reached for his nearby greatsword, a large weapon made custom-fit for his massive size.  "You have expired your use.  It has been a pleasure speaking with you."  

"You...  You vile creature."  The elf spoke defiantly as she stared back at him.  Phlegethon chuckled as he noticed her trembling lips.

Phlegethon brought his sword down, and the sharp blade cut the chains that bound the elf.  The elf looked down for a moment in utter surprise as she realized the weight of the iron had vanished, and then looked back up at Phlegethon in wonderment. 

"You are free now.  My men and I will move out to meet the enemy, and you may escape within that time.  Your home and belongings may be ravished by the time you return home, but you will still be alive."  Phlegethon slung the greatsword into his shoulder strap and began to leave the tent.  "I suggest that you do not rejoin the military.  You have been granted a second chance, after all."  The orc left as the elf continued to stare in utter bewilderment.

Isador opened the door to the Inn and was greeted with a "Welcome back" by the owner. he sat down at one of the tables and ordered a beef haunch, he nodded his head towards the servant girl that brought him his complimentary drink. 

After he finished his meal he walked up the stairs and walked towards his room, he stopped just in front of the door and for some reason waited and listened. He could hear something moving around in his room, he waited till it was closer to the door. It slowly edged closer and closer till Isador imagined it was by his bed, he kicked the door in a lunged at the intruder. The intruder threw out a kick and it landed right on Isador's face.

In the moment it took Isador to collect himself the intruder jumped out the window, busting the glass as the figure tore through. Isador promptly followed, landing on his feet as the intruder scurried away. Feet pounding the stone road he gave chase to the intruder, after several blocks buildings gave way to tents and soldiers. He realized he was in the human base camp, this changed nothing in the current situation. He shouted for someone to stop the fleeing person.

Some soldiers jumped into action and apprehended the intruder, Isador caught up and realized that it was a mere child probably in her early teens. Isador regain his breath and asks the child "What exactly were you doing in my room?" the child spat in his face. Wiping the saliva off his face Isador requested a tent to question the child further. He was directed towards the Generals tent for such a thing.

He walked into the command tent and looked at the grizzled man sitting behind a table with a map and pieces set upon it. "I am from the Church and request a tent to question a interloper" the man looks up from the map and sees the holy symbol imprinted upon Isador's armor and quickly nods his head. 

He was instructed by an assistant to a tent towards the center of the camp. As Isador walked behind the assistant he heard the moans of the wounded as he passed a fairly large tent. He noticed a man couched beside the tent flap with his hands on his face, his face bore a solemn expression of madness. Isador asked the assistant to pardon him for a few seconds.

Isador tells the man "Don't worry, I'm part of the church. I will ease your burden" with that said he places both of his hands of the sides of the mans face and starts to chant an chant from memory. The mans face starts to become drained and Isador himself was being drained. Isador could see into the mind of this man and saw what troubled him, the horrors of war could destroy any man's mind. He quickly sifted through the memories and dragged to trauma over to his being and brought it into his hands and he crushed it. 

The relief on the mans face was sudden, it was like he awoke from a daze. The man hastily thanked Isador, Isador nodded in kind and got up from his crouched position. He turned towards the assistant and said "We may leave now"

Christiana was pacing by the hospital, running errands.  The moist grass and lush fields had given way to dark mud and dirt - soiled by the settling armies.  Her large boots trotted through the mud, kicking up specs of it onto her cloak.  She turned to look beyond a hallway of tents, and saw Isador healing a solider.

"Is that man using Holy Magic?" She thought to herself.  She noticed the church uniform, but couldn't come to a conclusion.  "What's an unaccounted church member doing way out here?".  Her curiosity burned like a quick flame, and died just as quickly.  She painted a mental image of a list of the supplies she was sent out to retrieve.

She said uneasily to herself, "Now where was that crate of bottles?.... Oh yes, it's in the center of camp.!"  She hummed a short tune, then scurried off through the war-torn terrain for the supplies.

Briefly looking over the parchment inside the letter before tossing it casually in the fire. she proceeds to stand up and walk out the house the contact wished to be the meeting places and begins walking to the nearest pub, taking a seat at the bar she only nodded her head for the usual. The bartender nervously slide her a mug of rum. 

    She takes a sip of the mug pondering her next move against the brute called Phlegethon Nob-Grob, she had heard the name before from so imperial soldiers but never paid any mind to hear more after cutting them down from her last job. sighing, maybe she could just sneak in in to the encampment and slit his throat or just come in as a messenger and poison him, "I'll just do what I always do decide when I get there." coming to a decision alisa abruptly stands up, which cause have the people in the room to flinch, downs the rest of the rum before placing a couple silver pieces in the empty mug and strides out of the filthy pub.


 after about an hour of travel upon her horse, she stops and dismount when she spots the light and smoke of a camp followed by the sounds and the repulsive smell of orcs. alisa smirks under her hood, "too easy" with this she stealthy heads of towards the encampment, only after tying up her horse. After about thirty minutes of observation of the camp she believes she spotted her target a large orc sitting on what looked like a throne of some kind with what looked an elf slave. what truly puzzled her though was his action of setting it free which was evident from not hearing the conversation. After a few moment she decides to move to a better location and moves past a few orcs unnoticed to a tent behind her target but a had to retreat further when she noticed the target move.

Isador was escorted tot he tent and as he entered it he could see the girl tied to a chair. He didn't say anything but calmly walked over to the basin and grabbed a cup of water and offered it to the girl, she stuck her nose up indignantly and gave a slight 'humph'.  

Isador sets the cup over to the side and leans in towards the girl, the girl feels uncomfortable in this invasion of personal space. Isador leans back a little at seeing the distress in the girls face and says "All i want to know.... is why were you in my quarters sifting through my belongings".

The girl simply looks at him and says "I'm just a thief, i went into your room because you have the stench of the wealthy". she smiles at the man sitting in front of her. Isador returns the smile with one of his own, "I find it hard that a thief going for money would have missed the coin purse sitting on the basin, plus you were digging through my book bag."

The girls smile slowly disappears as Isador was talking, and now she was begining to panic in her mind. Isador could see this and continued to push "I would suspect you were looking for more than just monetary wealth". The girl couldn't come up with anything to say and when she started to talk is was nothing but jumbled words "Ah... well... the... uh... nob... dang... cult... man..." Isador stood up and loomed over the girl "What did you say about a cult!?" 

The girl was shocked at this sudden movement and was almost driven to tears, her eyes stated to tear up an she started to speak between sobs "He... just... wanted... your... books..." Isador felt guilty for driving her to tears and sat down and made a gesture for her to continue. She took a moment to regain control, "He was a weird man but he gave me gold to go through you stuff and bring him some religious looking stuff"

At last all the peices were starting to fall into place, Isador was trying to think why they needed his tomes. but couldn't think of anything he had that would aid them in their dark magic.

As Phlegethon left the tent, the orc briefly skimmed the area for any stragglers.  He passed by multiple dimly-lit tents that were still occupied by the wounded, and quickly checked to make sure the other unoccupied tents were truly unoccupied.  Although orcs were not known for desertion, some were dim-witted enough to sleep on the job, even in the middle of a large-scale battle.  Although this seemed a trivial task, Phlegethon was the type of leader to engage in such trivialities, believing that an inefficient allocation of resources would add-up in the long-run and come back to haunt him.   

The main force of his tribe would be slightly to the north-west engaging the humans and elves, and the only thing left here at camp was a small, but elite, detachment of the main force.  Now was time to engage directly, so that just as the human reinforcements arrive, so too would Phlegethon.

However, as Phlegethon turned to leave, he spotted a movement in the corner of his eye.  It wasn't the elf slave, for she had not left the tent.  He squinted his eyes in a mix of confusion and curiosity - surely, an orc wouldn't be hiding from him?  He sniffed the air in a primal fashion, but all he could pick up was that of the other orcs and the elf in the tent.  However, another scent filled his nostrils after a moment.  A faint one that smelt more elven than orc, but not quite as refined.

"A guest has come to visit me!"  Phlegethon called out as he approached the hiding spot that was situated between two tents.  "Come, speak with me.  Do not be afraid.  You will find that I am not the kind of orc that will rip you apart and eat your entrails.  I will only do that out of necessity."

Christiana stumbled into the dirtied badge tent.  She wasn't paying attention to the scene in front of her just yet, as she was looking down at the bottom of her dress, dusting off the dirt and mud.  "...like pigs in a trough... I swear, I'm going to report this to the Royal Army's Gener-" she paused for a moment to look at where she was; then gasped.

"..."

Christiana couldn't quite comprehend what she was seeing in front of her.  This man from earlier was just healing someone: now he's harassing a young woman, probably around her age...  At least, that's what she assumed.

"Uhm," Christiana was speechless.  She was awe struck, fluttering her eyelashes in confusions, trying to understand how someone of his standing wound up in this situation.  Hundreds of scenarios ranging from rational to the utmost horror ran past her mind.

Suddenly, Christiana snapped out of her lewd runaway fantasies and pulled herself together in a professional matter.  "What's going on here?" she commanded in a monotone voice.

Isador looked up as the cleric spoke, he didn't notice her enter the tent for he was to focused on his interrogation routine. He got up from his chair and spoke to the girl "That is all I needed to know", he grabs his sword and the girl winched as the blade flicked and her ropes loosend. "You are free to go, and take this with you. Maybe you can better your life with it" he tossed his coin purse towards the girls who caught it awkwardly. 

After the girl walked past the cleric Isador decided to acknowledge her, "That was an interrogation, for what it was for I am not at liberty to tell." he then makes a bow and says "I am Isador Knoll of the Church, and may i ask who might you be?"

Knowing retreat or continuing the contract would be futile, the only rational tactic would be to give herself up, Stepping out of the shadows holding herself with dignity and an icy cold stare, "hmm your as tactical as they say you are Phlegethon Nob-Grob, its really a shame we had to meet like this, I believe we could have been allies." She stops a few feet from the giant orc with a cold emotionless expression on her face.

Phlegethon closely examined the human up and down, somewhat surprised that a human would attempt to infiltrate his camp.  Judging by her appearance, it was not hard to deduce what she was here for.  She was also quite attractive - for a human, at least.  Rather than scared of this new course of events, he was thoroughly flattered by the gesture of an attempted assassination.  A rough laugh escaped his lips as he thought of how scared the humans holed up in their little castles must be.  They must know the battle here was destined to fail.

"You infiltrated my camp and somehow avoided my elite guards.  For that, you deserve praise."  Phlegethon spoke as he allowed the woman to create a little distance between them.  "Us orcs do not often value such talents, so your skills are a rare commodity around here."  

"Tell me, who hired you?  I can match and exceed their price for your service, human."

A smile escapes her demeanor from the praise. "well if you must know i do not know the man who hired me but I know he paid a hefty coin to have you killed. I do appreciate your complement but it was child's play getting through your camp." she looks the orc from head to toe getting a good look of his abilities, seeing that she could not take him in a fight as with his composure he did not seem to want to attack her, from curiosity or just to catch her off guard she wasn't sure, but she relaxed letting her hand lay by her side she looks at him again. "so what spoiled brat did you piss of?"

Christiana saw Isador free the child, and all of her fears were put to bed.  She quickly turned to the side, so the girl could escape.  When the girl left, Christiana straightened her pose and announced with pride "I am Christiana Bladebane. Cleric, operating under the Clergy of the Church."  She thought for a moment, then said curiously with a raised eyebrow, "I am the head cleric here, and so I know everyone in the Church wing of this army... I've never even heard of your arrival."

Christiana's suspicions grew hotly, but if her hunch was correct - she shouldn't press the issue.  She waved her hand as if to dismiss the implied question, then stepped over past Isador to grab the crate of bottles.  "I saw what you did earlier." she said cheerfully as she picked up the crate.  She hoisted up onto her hip and started to walk out; when her tone changed to a more monotone one - "We could use someone like you.  I can heal these men of their physical wounds, but I can't replenish the souls they lose."

Christiana opened the tent flap with one of her hands, and light peeked through onto her cloak.  She said sympathetically, "Don't you feel the holes in their spirit too?"  She turned back, with something dark welling up in her eyes.  She opened her mouth to make one more comment, then shook her head and started to retreat.  "If you need me, I'll be at the hospital!" she shouted as she left, back to her cheerful tone.

Isador watched as Christiana left the tent, he detected the undertone in the previous question. "I wonder what she was hinting at?" he thought to himself. Since his business was concluded in the tent he left as well, he told the assistant that his business was done.

Isador wondered around the camp contemplating the cults next move, he couldnt come up with anything that they could set as a goal. Isador eventually wondered into the hospital tent, and saw the young Christiana hard at work. Isador couldnt believe he was becoming a simple feild cleric, he didnt even understand why he was doing it in the first place.

He came to the conclusion that that cleric just made people want to help others less fortunate, he based this on the abundance of soldiers aiding the doctors in survival of their kinsman. That or they just wanted to get closer to the young cleric, Isador couldn't figure out which. With a sigh he rolled up his sleeves and went to work.

"I would not be doing my job correctly if petty noblemen didn't fear me."  Phlegethon spoke with a pleased tone, but he quickly got back to the point as he remembered the time.  "Their names are irrelevant at the end of the day.  Will you accept my offer?  You will find us orcs to be hospitable towards respected individuals, even foreigners, and I can guarantee your services will be rewarded.  The only thing you need to do is cut your ties with your human employers."

As he spoke, another large orc called out to Phlegethon from across the camp.  "Phlegm!  A message from da boys!  Dey say da humins' are gettin' ready ta engage!"  

Phlegethon grimaced slightly at the sound of his nickname, but nodded back at the other orc.  "We will depart shortly to regroup with the main force.  Gather the rest of the men around camp."

"Aye, chief!"

Phlegethon looked back at the woman as he began to leave.  "I will not stop you from escaping if you refuse my offer, but if you wish to accept, come with me.  We are off to war."

"Well I do hate noble scum so I'll work for an orc." and with that she follows the orc chieftain.

Torches light the underground chamber, the shadows dance in the flickering lights as the cult members finish drawing the symbols in grounded bone lines. "Are the preparations complete?" asks the head master of the cult, "Yes, all that needs to be done now is the incantation and the last ingredient".

The Head Master nods his head as members enter the room with a cage. "Master we have it! now we can begin". The Head Master walks slowly over to the cage and chuckles to himself as the fairy inside cowers to the opposite side of the cage. "you are about to become part of a bigger design my child, there is no need to fear." 

"I was starting to wonder if we would every catch one of your kind", The chamber starts to shake and the members look up at the ceiling in concern. "Master will the ceiling hold out till the  summoning is complete?"
the Head Master strokes the members cheek and smiles while saying "Don't worry my child we are right under the armies and about to begin the summoning, nothing can stop us now"

The Head Master looks to the members gathered here and shouts "Let us begin!"
                                                                                                                                                     




Both sides start to march towards each other fully committed to the fight at hand, the front lines have already ran ahead to engage in the battle. The ground begins to shake, it gets more and more violent. The ground starts to crumble under the armies feet, soldiers scattered in all directions as the ground caves in.

The dust starts settle as the armies peer into the hole, hundreds of bright lights pierce through dust. Before anything could be done Demons pour out of the hole in the hundreds and lay waste to the surrounding armies, laying waste to Orcs, humans and elves alike.

The battle for survival has begun.

Spoiler:

                                                                                                                                                     


Isador feels the tremors under his feet, as the tremors subside all grew quiet, Isador listened with great intensity. Suddenly screams of terror and death fill the air, Isador runs out of the Hospital tent. He looks the fields at the armies, at first he couldn't see anything but men hitting the ground.

Then for a brief second he spots a flash of red as another man falls, then again he sees it imbed itself into a mans chest. Demons Isador thinks with distaste, he must act quickly, the cult has finaly revealed itself and he must find and return the sacred tome to the Great Vault.

He dashes towards the battlefield grabbing his shield and spear out of his tent on his way.

As the two armies clashed, Phlegethon fought in the middle of the carnage.  Although technically dangerous for him, the humans and elves around him quaked in fear that the famed chieftain Phlegethon Nob-Grob was before them - and Phlegethon fought without hesitation.  His orc blood boiled in full as the battle dragged on and the number of deaths increased, and both armies began to soften.

As the battle continued, Phlegethon could feel the ground beneath him shake.  An earthquake, perhaps?  At such an inopportune time?  

After some time, the true purpose of the tremors was revealed as part of the ground near Phlegethon shattered, forming a crater in the middle of the battlefield.  From it, some form of creatures, perhaps demons of some sort, scurried out of the ground.  Phlegethon stared in awe at the creatures that were like something from a doomsday tale told of in some false religion.  And just like those tales, the demons spread across the battlefield like some sort of plague, putting down both orc and human alike.

"Men!  Do not worry about the soft-skins! Focus on these new creatures!"  His voice boomed across the battlefield and was echoed by his commanders, and the orcs began to turn their attention solely to the demons that were proving to be more than a match.  As he gave the command a nearby demon turned its attention towards him, as if disturbed by his commanding presence.  The demon reached over with its claws and swiped at Phlegethon's face, but he parried with his greatsword and kicked the demon back as another orc plunged a sword into its heart.  Phlegethon nodded at the soldier in recognition.

Phlegethon turned to the female human beside him.  "Do you know of these strange creatures?  Demons of some sort?"

Alisa was cutting down  soldier after soldier with grace and ease, each swipe of her daggers cut precisely at the enemies vital openings, as she continued to fight she felt the ground being to quake under her in the mist of a fight between her and what seemed to be a incredible well trained soldiers, loosing balance she fell to the ground the soldier having a stronger foot hold took the chance swung at her, but before connecting the man was ripped in to pieces by a  unseen force.

     the only thing she could see only a red blur as multiple other soldiers and other warriors where slaughtered by the unseen foes.  there simply from fear and shock of these strange beings she caught a glimpse of the horrid beast to only to quick get up a swiftly move to the rest of the force where Phlegethon was fighting. 

    The orc seemed to notice her and ask her a question after a few seconds of running the question through her mind she quickly regained her composer, "these things, I have a no clue. but they remind me of demons from fairy tales,but...." Looking away before reacting to one attacking her luckily with her honed skills and reflexes she dodged and slashed at the beast before side stepping back to Phlegethon, "I do not believe your army will beat these things, I suggest a tactical retreat." she spoke with urgency before fending of another creature.

Christiana looked up from a wounded solider and gasped in horror.  Burning embers and dark wisps fluttered through the roaring sky while sparks of light shot in the air like firecrackers.  Horrible, glowing abominations crept from these ungodly lights and descended upon the feuding armies.

A bloodied corpse fell before Christiana, and she stumbled backwards in shock.  She tried to say something but only unintelligible gasps of air escaped her throat.  A dark blade swung down from a demon above her, and barely missed, making a small incision on her arm.  Christiana tumbled out of the way, but couldn't find her balance.  She shuffled back kicking her legs and flailing her arms.  The demon looked greedily over at the wounded solider, who had fallen into physical shock.  A sudden burst of courage filled her body and she reached out to save him, but was too late - the dark blade plunged into the man's abdomen.  As blood shot out from the body, she gazed up at the demon, and her heartbeat froze.

"How could this be happening?  Demons?!  Here?", Christiana thought, as the demon charged at her with full strength.

A demon bursts into holy light as Isador's spear tore into its body, not stopping his prayer during this. He raises his shield as a demon jumps, throwing itself against his shield. Isador staggers back, and retaliates with a spear thrust. 

As the Demon bursts in front his eyes he sees through the ashes and spots the cleric on the ground with a hulking demon towering over her figure. Isador begins his prayer anew as he chunks his spear, the spear hit home in the demons chest eviscerating it instantly.

Isador draws his sword and with graceful swordplay fought his way over to the cleric, once over the down figure he extended his hand.

"Fairy tales, hm?"  Phlegethon commented as he surveyed the battlefield once more to check on his armies current condition.  From what he could observe, the demons were making progress rather than being pushed back.  The reason his current position was still being held was due to his nearby royal guards, a group of elite, well-equipped and well-trained orcs - but even they would not be able to last forever.  "It seems they are more than some mythical creatures after all.  I can't risk losing the full force here, so I agree, it is time to fall back for now."  

Phlegethon signaled to a nearby orc courier.  The orc nodded back to Phlegethon and reached for a warhorn slung to his waist and placed it to his mouth.  After a single extended inhale, the orc blew into the horn, creating a deep, low sound that spread across the battlefield.  Only a few seconds later, more horns sounded in response as the rest of the army began to retreat in unison. 

However, as Phlegethon turned to follow his army, the elf from earlier caught his eye in the distance.  It appeared she was attempting to cross the battlefield to make it to her brethren on the other side -  however, almost instantly a demon caught sight of the elf and pounced on her, its claws pinning her to the ground.  Without hesitation, Phlegethon charged forward, using his large body and momentum to push aside nearby demons, and as he approached the unsuspecting demon he tackled the creature off of the elf.  The two began to struggle in melee, but taking advantage of his strength, Phlegethon secured the demon into a headlock while sustaining multiple cuts from the demon, who was struggling to claw his face.  Not allowing the creature even a moments time to attempt to break the grapple, Phlegethon twisted his arms and snapped its neck.  The creature fell to the floor lifelessly.

"How rude.  Trying to kill prey I let escape.  You demons need more class."  Phlegethon dusted himself off as he unsheathed his sword lended the elf his free hand.  He was now deep into the battlefield, nearing human territory.  Nearby he could see a small detachment of humans, one of which looked to be a human cleric.  "I will lead you to that group, as I am sure you will be safer there than among us orcs."  

The elf reluctantly took his hand, remembering that he had let her go in the first place, and as she did so Phlegethon pulled her up entirely with one arm and wrapped his hand around her stomach, carrying her by his left side.  The elf resisted initially but once again reluctantly gave in as he showed no sign of letting go.  This was simply the best option, since he needed to get there quickly and did not want a wounded elf slowing him down.

Christiana accepted the hand gracefully and hoisted herself up.  "Thank you, Isador.", she said while running over to the maimed solider.  She rested next to the corpse and gave the cold body its last rites with haste.  She quickly rose to her feet and clasped her right hand over the wound on her arm. 

Turning to Isador, Christiana scowled, "These creatures are demons, and you're the kind of person who's expertise is dealing with them - aren't you?"  She was worried before of open speculation, but in such dire circumstances such secrets could no longer hold security for anyone.  Before she could wait for an answer, she caught sight of a large green monster, hoisting a helpless, beautiful elf princess by his side like a pack mule. 

Orcs!, Christiana spat.  How could they have the audacity to horde and pillage at a time like this?!  She was outraged at the display, but that anger quickly dissipated when she saw a demon lunge for the Orc at a distance.
In a panic, Christiana shot her right hand forward.  It was stained with her own blood, which dripped onto the soil.  The blood seemed to adopt a mind of its own, and floated in front of her hand to form a small pentagram.  The blood then evaporated, and a beam of light shot from her hand past the advancing Orc, piercing through the demon behind him.

Alisa notices Phlegethon charge off in a random direction, seeing as the orcs were retreating and they would no longer provide as meat shields she takes off after him swiftly cutting down demons who tried to attack his sides. She finally spot his goal a familiar elf in the distance being attacked by a demon but it took her a second longer to realize she was the goal of her leaders charge.

Frowns at her leaders decision to save an enemy but follows swift anyway simple because it was her duty to keep him alive. A few steps back fending of stray demon that headed there way not paying attention a demon ponces on me from a near by tree and get knock over the yelp in surprise and gets pinned down.

 
She could only watch as her only savior charges away with the elf. struggles to get the demon off to no avail the only thing she could do was roll and avoid hes attacks.