Deathslayer: A Return to Damnation

Chapter Six - Nitepriests

The colony had one small tavern. This tavern was the breeding ground for scum of the earth. Evil seeping out its doors and windows. It was as if criminals were attracted to taverns like moths to a flame, that's also why it's an adventurers favorite place to go. Sadly for the inhabitants of this tavern, Styrkar was neither villain nor hero. He wasn't much more than a monster anymore and he knew this well, and the Spiked Whip Tavern was his next stop.

Styrkar began walking down the street, uncertain of where to find the tavern but knowing its name and knowing that it wasn't here. He stumbled through the streets looking like naught more than a drunken adventurer. He put one hand up and dragged it against the wall as if to hold him up, he was trying to look weak. Last thing the Nitepriests would want is someone who is actually strong wandering the streets at this time of night. He approached the corner of the street and made a startling discovery the minute he turned the corner.

Several Nitepriest parties were going from door to door knocking on them, and if they got no answer then they would kick them down. Each Nitepriest hunting party consisted of three main members. There was the father, who was normally a large man on platformed boots with a button up variant of a priest coat and a long brown cape. They hid their faces so no one knew their identities but their masks were blank and expressionless. They held staffs with crosses at the top that they used for exorcisms and the like.

The next member was the brother, it was a man carrying a dagger  with a cross hilt. They normally wore a similar button up coat but without the white marker that the father had. Then there was the sister which normally carried a crossbow and wore her hair in a ponytail. She wore a cap and a face covering that  didn't cover her eyes so it didn't affect her aim.

Styrkar stumbled along the street, watching as one party kicked down the door to a home and the inhabitants screamed. The father began shouting something in latin. Then another party's brother noticed Styrkar stumbling along, it wasn't hard given his immense figure. "You! Stop in the name of the church!" the brother shouted. Styrkar quickly ducked into an alleyway between two of the houses. He hopped the fence and began running through backyards. He hopped into the next backyard and found more Nitepriests investigating it. "Stop where you are!" A father shouted in a loud and booming voice. Styrkar quickly ran and jumped over the next fence, and then the next one. The Rite didn't just increase his strength but he was faster than ever too, and with the endurance of hades himself.

He went skyrocketing from yard to yard until he came into the last yard in the colony. That's where he got blasted back with a large blast of holy energy. He went flying through the fence and back into the yard, he held up one hand to save his eyes from the bright yellow glow. Eventually the glow faded and he could see what had happened. Standing in the last yard was one of the fathers. "Our lord will hunt you down," he shouted, his voice sounding hollow through his mask. The eye holes of the mask were slightly low for him but he managed it still. He slowly began marching towards Styrkar who was still on the ground from the blast. Styrkar turned the other way and started to run but then another father hopped the fence behind him. Brandishing his staff like a trophy he had just one and blinding Styrkar with a bright yellow light as it happened. "Our lord will strike you down," he spoke. They were reciting the rite back at him, he had thought they would take longer to find out that he was on the loose than that. He reached into his hilt and quickly tore out his ax, flicking the switch and unfolding it in his hand. The pieces clicked into place until he had the large ax in his hands ready to kill.

He began to walk slowly to the side as the fathers circled him like vultures awaiting the kill. Their staffs were still glowing slightly but because they had lowered them by their sides the glow wasn't as bad. "You get one chance, move," Styrkar warned them. The Nitepriests remained silent and continued to circle him. Their eyes were hungry with wrath and pride. They were victims of sin and didn't even know it. Styrkar quickly swung his ax at the first one who dodged backwards before holding his staff directly into Styrkar's face. The glow burned against Styrkar's eyes as he shoved the staff to the side and began to bring his ax down on the father's head. Before it reached the father's head though he quickly spun around with the ax in his hand and lodged it directly into the gut of the father behind him. He dropped his staff and fell to his knees. The father that had just assaulted Styrkar was in shock, Styrkar grabbed his staff despite the burning sensation it caused in his hand as he did and then pulled the father close to him, tearing off his mask and holding his mouth open. He then shoved the staff down the father's throat, blood spewing out of it and running down the father's face. The staff tore clean through the man's body, coming out the other end. Styrkar then grabbed the neck of the priest with his ax sticking out of him and tore his head clean off. Blood sprayed again Styrkar's armor and through his helm onto his face. 

An arrow when spiraling through the air and nailed Styrkar right in the shoulder, luckily it broke on impact against his armor. He noticed a sister standing in the back doorway of the house. Styrkar ran over at inhuman speeds and grabbed her by the neck and held her up, squeezing with all his might until he crushed her airways. A brother approached him and tried to stab him but the blade broke against Styrkar's skin. Styrkar dropped the sister, who was still gasping for air but dying slowly, and grabbed both of the brother's arms. The cross handle of the brother's dagger tried to stun Styrkar but he managed to keep his composure as the brother dropped it. Styrkar put one leg against the man's chest and kicked. The man went flying backwards except for his arms which remained in Styrkar's hands. He dropped them and wiped his hands against his pants. he then exited the house and grabbed his ax from the dead father. No doubt the other father's party would be here soon to check on him so Styrkar had to move fast. He quickly folded the ax up and began to run, eventually finding his way to the porch of the Spiked Whip Tavern

The tavern was bustling with life and joy. Half the people there were wearing hoods and thieves gear, villains or criminals searching for their next heists. Another quarter of them were wearing armor and robes and downed ale after ale, adventurers looking for their next quest. Then there was the quarter of them that were regulars who just came for a drink and a good time. They were cheering and singing drinking songs while banging forks and mugs against the tables. Styrkar opened the door and slowly shut it behind him. His cape protected him from being seen but he crushed the handle with his hand as he entered. Trapping them in there with him. The room fell silent as they saw him. He towered over the rest of the patrons there and his dark armor made him the perfect pick for a villain. An adventurer cheered before drawing a great sword and charging at him. She was a strong girl with red hair and fur armor. She didn't last long. Styrkar held out one hand and grabbed her head lifting her into the air. She struggled and tried to chop at his gloved hand but she was no use. He squeezed until her skull caved and then tossed her to the side. "Anyone else?" He announced. Everyone stayed silent.

An adventurer then slowly reached for a book on their side. Styrkar walked up to him and glared down at him. "You get one second to move your hand away from the book," Styrkar told him. The adventurer quickly put both hands on the table in fear. Styrkar smirked and then walked over to the barkeep. "Ale, your finest," he said. The Barkeep, still wide eyed in fear, began pouring him a drink. Eventually Styrkar noticed a stage where a bard had been playing a moment before. The bard raised his voice and shouted, "You have no right here Deathslayer!" Everyone looked at the bard worried. Styrkar quickly unfolded his ax and threw it across the room. It landed directly on the bard mid spin, cutting him in half and sticking itself into the floor.  Blood spilled all over the stage as patrons watched on in horror and awe of Styrkar's murder spree. Styrkar grabbed his drink from the bar and took off his helm, downing the drink in one sip before turning to the rest of the room. He grabbed the dark knight's sword from off his belt and held it high. "This sword! Who recognizes it?" he asked. The room stayed silent, clearly there was someone they feared more than him because he noticed a few of the criminals in the corner of the room wearing black leather armor and hoods look away from him as though they were debating whether to spill the secrets. Styrkar chuckled, "I was hoping you'd take it the hard way."

He walked over to the first of the criminals in the corner and grabbed him by the arm before swinging him in the air and slamming him on the table. He put one hand on the man's chest while still holding his arm. "Who does the sword belong to?" He asked. The man struggled against his grip. "I don't know!" he shouted. "Wrong answer," Styrkar gave the criminal's arm a half hearted tug. He heard bones crack and muscles snap as he did so. "The black knight!" the criminal screamed. "The black knight, please that's all I know!" he was crying now. Styrkar tightened his grip on the man's arm. By now he could tell that the man's arm bone was fractured. He closed his eyes and watched as visions of the man's sins came to mind. Murders, hits sent out by crime bosses. Even one directly from the poverty king himself. He was a killer, cold blooded by nature, not too unlike Styrkar himself. "Who does he work for," Styrkar asked, slowly opening his eyes and glaring directly into the killer's eyes.

"I don't know," the criminal shouted. "Nope, not good enough," Styrkar tugged with a small part of his power and the man's arm came tearing clean off. "You still have another arm, ready for round two?" He asked. "El Diablo! he works with El Diablo! I heard about him while doing a job for the Poverty king. He may know more but that's all I know I swear!" The hitman cried. Styrkar smirked, "I believe you," he said. Styrkar then raised his foot as the criminal sighed of relief and gasped for air. Styrkar then brought his foot down on the man's face. Blood splattered all over the floor and over Styrkar's boot. He then turned to the rest of the obvious criminals in the room, "Now then, what to do with all of you," he chuckled.

No sinful man left that room alive.