The Old Guard

CH 2

The room was dimly lit by candles. A low hum vibrated off the walls. Shadows edged closer than they should. Like wolves stalking a wounded prey animal, they inched closer as the humming grew louder. "Spirits from beyond, hear me. I search for the one named Zorgas. Hear me Old master, and grace me with your wisdom". The man clad in thick cloth began to recite words of power. A still bleeding goat lay upon a table where another man stood by holding a bloody knife. The wicked blade glimmers as the candlelight bounces off the blood.

Soon the flames brighten, pushing the shadows back with scarlet light. The six candles nearest the goat's body brighten the most and begin to spew smoke. Embers shed off the wicks and begin to sprout flames on the hair. The man with the blade steps back as the goat is soon fully engulfed in flame. Yet it does not burn nor char. The unnatural flames continue to dance upon the corpse without burning it. Soon a shape forms in them. At first, it is a formless dark shape. Then it grows and contorts. The sound of bones cracking and tendons snapping echoes across the room as if it were happening on the other side of a vast empty room despite the chamber only being large enough to comfortably fit 10 men.

The summoner clutched a pendant of an unshapely mass of copper thorns. He winced as his skin was pierced and blood trickled down from his hand. But the sacrifice of blood would create a ward against any attack should this be another damned soul.

They watched as the shape grew until it took the shape of a humanoid creature. The shadows hide the finer parts of the details but he could see it was reptilian. The patches of scales he could see were scarlet just like the flames with patterns of dull brass mixed in. "Drest, you performed the ritual perfectly". The demon said with a dark smile in his tone.

The two men sighed in relief as they heard the voice of their old master. "Master, we need your wisdom. The fools of the church are close to fully losing control of the people's faith. But they remain a stubborn thorn in our side. We need guidance on how to be rid of them for good". The demon glared down at his servant. "The answer is simple you fool. Open your eyes and listen to your own thoughts Drest. The time for hiding in the shadows is over. The answer to our blight is hanging off your hip". Zorgas pointed towards the hatchet that hung on a thin rope from his belt. The man was stunned for a moment before grinning darkly. "Of course my master. It shall be done viscously".

The demon smiled at the thought. "Drest, Te'oma, you two shall take my position as living leader of the cult. It was a mistake to only have myself as leader. Even in hell, I could see our ranks falter and break in some places with my departure. Use the few lessons I bestowed on you two well and learn the rest with haste. If humanity is to be free from Heaven's grip we must succeed and grow. The three priests must die. Though those old men should fall easily with your newest member".

The two men whipped their heads behind them. Standing at the entrance stood a mountain of a man. The candles nearest to him began to lose their scarlet coloring. But that fact was only known to the large man himself. Even with the shadows hiding the majority of his face. Drest could feel his glowering gaze upon him. A metal shield was fastened to his left forearm. "Te'oma you fool! You've been followed". Drest pulled his hatchet out as Te'oma aimed his dagger at the intruder.

"He was not followed. I could smell this foul magic from across the town. This is what you're going to do. You, Zorgas will go back to hell and stay there. Your time on earth was over the moment you died. Drest, Te'oma, you are going to leave this occult practice behind and stop harming people. Do this and I won't become more involved with your lives anymore".

The two men glanced at each other. The intruder was large and looked as if he could easily throw the two of them aside. But the tone in his voice did not intimidate as it should have. It was demanding in a way, but lacked fire. It was almost as if the man was not used to being demanding.