A Tale of Two Demons

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By Ryan Smith 

The knights blade spun a helix around the orc's spear, while the knight caught another orc with his shield. The bash was a clothesline that sent the beast stumbling, and the knight drew back and punched with the shield edge forward. Contact was made, and there was a satisfying crunch as the orc's jaw disintegrated from the blow.

Then the knight caught his spinning blade in a reverse grip, hefted it, then drove it back down through the orc's neck and torso. The blade came out somewhere along side the orc's spine, and as the knight removed the blade the beast gurgled some last remark. The knight thought it might have been an insult to his mother integrity, but he shrugged. He righted his grip on the sword and spun, cutting a gash with it deep into the orc with the broken jaw. That beast also gurgled as he died, but his final words were totally unintelligible.

The knight, a demon elf by the name of Searanin Nightshade, drew his blade—Solus, a holy longsword with a mind and attitude all its own—from the corpse and turned back towards the battle. He scanned the field with a paragon's eye, looking for the next fowl beast to be dispatched.

He was an anomaly, an aberration as he was born half demon, yet now he served Sol, the highest of powers, as a paladin. The armor and the weapon he used caused him physical pain with every move. The holy enchantments placed upon them were meant to protect the wearer, and aid him in battle against his unholy foes. On Searanin that armor was an iron maiden, and he used it as penance. For centuries he had served as the highest general to Marwoleath Drwg, the demon elf progenitor and the ruler of the ancient Taratulian empire. Marwoleath Drwg, with Searanin at his right, had united all of Launam under one banner and had served as the world's third Tyrant God King. All that changed, though, and now Searanin felt every death he caused clearly as the divine might surged through his armor and his bones. He knew he would never have redemption, and never serve Sol, the god of the sun and the holy light, on the highest of the mounting heavens.

Hell was what a demon elf deserved. Eternal torment in all its many ways. And, Searanin knew, with as many evil souls as he'd sent through those gates, he was going to wind up on the deepest layer. And, his torment really would be eternal.

Still, that destiny might be eons from now, who knew how long his demonic blood would sustain his mortal form. So, he would serve Sol now, while he still drew breath, and he would battle against the forces of darkness.

Searanin let loose a war cry and charged, running heedlessly into a cluster of orcs. His swoard arm worked, going up and over, cutting the legs out from under one foe and taking the head off the next. His shield was also a blur of motion, it caught blows and dealt them out, moving like an extension of his arm, a solid metal fist the size of a man's torso. The last orc fell, his head still spinning on the stump of his neck, when Searanin saw him.

If Searanin had been the right hand of Marwoleath Drwg, he had been the back hand. The most vicious warrior with the coldest eyes and a heart wrought from steel. They called him many things; samurai, assassin, hitokiri, the Shadow, all of it was the same to him. Shitenshi Amatatsu, the masked demon elf, Searanin's only equal in all the waking world. Gods had fallen to Shitenshi's swords.

The masked demon elf locked eyes with him. Searanin looking through the visor of his helm couldn't see anything but the mask. The eyes that saw through two tiny wooden holes in the plain wooden mask were black stones. They gave no hint of the samurai's plan.

Orc's rushed him, and Shitenshi was a blur of motion all at once. Twin katana's jumped into the air from a pair of crossed sheathes on his back, while he drew two more from the sheathes on his hips. The first two moved of their own accord, everdancing while giving life to whatever mental commands Shitenshi gave them. Each blade moved once and the cluster of orcs dropped. Heads, arms, legs, all of them came loose at the joints and collapsed to the ground. Not a drop of blood stained any of the blades.

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⏰ Last updated: Dec 19, 2014 ⏰

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