Order of the Demon Hunters 2, page 1
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Chapter 1
The air in Meister Vestan’s office carried that old, musty book smell that always seemed to linger, and it made me want to squirm in my chair as I waited for my mentor to show up. When I got the note to stop by Vestan’s place, I knew it meant he had a new assignment for me, and I couldn’t wait to hear what I’d be tackling next. We’d been working on my elemental powers for a few months now, which, if I was honest, had turned me into a bit of a force to be reckoned with. And lately, it seemed that I’d become Vestan’s go-to Inquisitor for some of his missions. Although, there hadn’t been any quite as taxing as our encounter with Annakis and Xongrag.
Months of sweat and toil since we defeated the demon lord and freed the city of Emberfall had molded me into something more than I ever thought possible. I had mastered the control of my elemental powers, so that my conjuring of fire, wind, and lightning was as easy and natural as breathing. My swordplay had improved as well, and I was starting to feel like I could have been the star of a Robin Hood movie and not just the guy in the background. Vestan’s rigorous guidance had turned me into a demon-killing machine, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the wizardry he’d passed on.
But I wasn’t the only one that had been sharpening my skills. Severin, my bumbling friend and squire, had practically become a walking encyclopedia about demons and the realm of Threnos overall. He spent countless hours in the library and seemed to absorb knowledge like a sponge, which made him invaluable on our missions.
Krea had spent a lot of time pestering me with questions about the technology of my own world so she could expand the arsenal of weapons we had in our fight against the demons. She had even begun to tinker with gunpowder, though I hadn’t seen the results yet. Meanwhile, Elvira had been tirelessly training and working closely with her mentor, Urquel, and she was still determined to climb the ranks in Krigor quickly.
I was so lost in my thoughts of the last few months that I almost missed the sound of the heavy office door as it creaked open. I stood up straight and then turned toward the door, where my gaze met that of my mentor.
Vestan, the grizzled leader of my sect, gave me a knowing nod as he crossed the room and then settled into his ornate chair behind the desk. He glanced at the parchments and peculiar artifacts that littered the surface and then looked up at me.
“Ronan,” Vestan sighed with a small smile. “Good to see you. Punctual as always.”
“Well, you know me,” I grinned, “Punctuality is my middle name.”
“Unless you and Severin have spent the night down in The Sea Barrel,” my mentor chuckled with a twinkle of amusement in his eye. “Then there’s no hope at all.”
“No idea what you mean,” I replied and made a mock expression of innocence.
“I’m sure,” he said as he flicked through the parchment on his table as though he was looking for something. “It’s a good thing you’re so invaluable, or I’d be kicking your ass for the cheek.”
“So, what’s the job this time?” I laughed as I leaned forward, almost unable to contain my curiosity. “Some demon that’s raising hell and you need me to show them who’s really in charge?”
“As always,” Vestan grunted as he shifted through a stack of paper. “Aha, here it is.”
“So, where am I off to next?” I asked.
“Eager as ever, I see,” he noted. “We got word from Southbay that they’re having some trouble with a minor demon.”
“A minor demon,” I mused. “What kind of trouble has it been causing?”
“It’s very much like the one you encountered when you first arrived in Threnos,” he said. “Southbay is in absolute chaos. Possessions, unexplained deaths, you know, the whole kit and caboodle. Anyway, Southbay needs a hand getting rid of this thing.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “Do we know which demon it is?”
Before Vestan could answer, the room was plunged into a noisy cacophony of rattling bars and unhinged screeches which erupted from the corner. Vestan let out an exasperated sigh and sent his chair scraping backward as he surged to his feet. With measured steps, he marched over to the corner, where a small cage draped in deep burgundy fabric hung from a pole like a strange birdcage. Vestan yanked the cloth away and revealed a grotesque Gollum-like imp with malevolent beady, black eyes and an eerie, wicked grin.
“Groklaq, you repulsive pest,” Vestan spat in a voice laced with a seething intensity, “would you kindly shut the hell up?”
Groklaq was Vestan’s demonic imp that he managed to imprison a few months back, after a mission. I had only laid eyes on the thing once or twice, since the High Council preferred to keep its presence in Krigor on the down-low, but the thing’s appearance still gave me goosebumps. The ghastly grin it wore, if you could even call it that, revealed a nightmarish row of needle-like teeth, and its sickly green skin seemed to reek of death, like decay had found a cozy home in this awful creature. Its elongated limbs were all twisted, and along its spiny back were scabbed-over stumps where it once had wings. In short, Groklaq was a living nightmare.
When I had first crossed paths with the abomination, I had been worried about the havoc the thing would wreak if it escaped. There were a lot of things stored in Krigor that the demons would want, and we certainly didn’t want to give them an inside man. But Vestan had put my concerns to rest by explaining that the cage was a masterwork of dwarven steel.
I hadn’t questioned my mentor further because I trusted his wisdom, but when I mentioned it to Severin, he had gone on one of his very long and very detailed descriptions about dwarven steel, all delivered in a breathless voice that reminded me of a teenage girl talking about her crush. But I’d learned that dwarven steel was a legendary alloy forged with secrets known only to the dwarven smiths, and it could withstand the forces that would destroy ordinary steel.
“Oh, dear Meister Vestan, always such a bundle of joy,” the imp purred in a mocking tone.
Vestan let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation at the demonic imp.
“Don’t test me now, Groklaq,” he grumbled. “If your lies weren’t so damn useful in working out what those demons are up to, I’d have put an end to you long ago.”
“But, you would surely miss my delightful company,” the imp chuckled, and its devilish grin only grew wider as it rattled the cage bars again.
“Enough, before I ask our friend Ronan here to use that demon’s dagger of his to encourage your head to divorce your body,” Vestan growled.
The imp’s smile faded as the thing released its clawed hands from the bars and retreated to a corner of its cage while it stared at me. Groklaq knew of the events of my first mission as an Inquisitor, and so he understood my ability to wield and tame demonic weapons. The imp knew that decapitation was a plausible threat and that it wasn’t a death he could recover from.
“As you can see,” Vestan said as he turned his attention back to me, “Groklaq here is proving to be a handful.”
“I’m surprised he’s lasted so long,” I said as I looked at the hideous imp. “I half-expected him to have been skewered by now, either by you or one of the other meisters.”
“Yes, well,” Vestan sighed and returned to his seat. “Unfortunately, the little shit’s lies have been quite useful so far, and it’s too stupid to figure out that lying all of the time means that we can work out the truth. So here he will stay. Irritating the life out of me.”
“Can’t you keep him somewhere else until you need him?” I asked. “What about the Demon’s Arsenal?”
“I don’t like the idea of it being so close to demonic weaponry,” my mentor said as he shook his head. “Even if it is impossible for it to escape that cage. And of course, the other Meisters of the High Council aren’t the biggest fans of having the imp in Krigor in the first place, so they won’t let me keep it anywhere else. No. The bastard is my burden to bear. Between you and me, part of me wishes I had never brought it back, but it really has been unwittingly helpful. Using unlikely tools-- and unlikely allies-- is what separates our sect from the other Inquisitors.”
“I suppose we’ll take any help we can get,” I nodded in understanding of the bizarre dynamic.
“Exactly,” Vestan agreed. “Anything to get an advantage over the demons. But I also wouldn’t advise trying to capture imps and demons going forward.”
“Hadn’t planned on it,” I chuckled. “I think one is more than enough.”
“I’m just making it clear,” Vestan smirked. “Nizaren insists that I’m not leading by my best example as a mentor by imprisoning the thing, you see. And as much as I hate to admit it, he could be right. I know we Forsaken are more pragmatic in our work than the others, but working with a demon has not been my smartest decision.”
“Don’t worry,” I insisted. “The most involvement I plan on having with imps and demons is bringing them to their very painful end.”
“Good,” Vestan said as he sat back in his chair. “You see , all demons lie, Ronan, but not all of them are as stupid as Groklaq. They may be more tactical about how they lie, but they still lie and double-cross. It’s their nature.”
“Noted,” I nodded. “Though I don’t plan on having any long conversations with a demon.”
“Yes, well,” Vestan grumbled. “Sometimes, things don’t go the way we plan. It’s just something to keep in mind, especially if you insist on handling the demonic weapons.”
“The voices,” I said.
“They can be very persuasive,” he said. “And I know you’ve banished them before, but…”
“I have my friends and my faith,” I replied.
“Normally, a little cockiness is good,” he chuckled. “And you’ve certainly proven your worth since you arrived. I might merely suggest that some demons are more… convincing than others.”
“We saw that with the sorcerer,” I replied. “He believed the voices when they assured him he could control them.”
“A sad case,” Vestan sighed. “Though sorcerers are more prone to such things. Probably because they spend so much time investigating dark magiks.”
“And what about Inquisitors?” I asked.
“It doesn’t happen often,” he said with a frown. “But every so often, someone will fall weak to a demon’s weapon or perhaps just from fear.”
“What happens to those Inquisitors?” I asked.
“Well, they don’t usually get a happy ending, let’s put it that way,” Vestan said. “The ones that we know about, anyway.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
Vestan shuffled some of the papers around on his desk for a moment, but when I refused to withdraw the question, he finally sighed.
“We don’t know what happened to all of the missing Inquisitors through the years,” he replied. “When one doesn’t return, the assumption is that they were killed. Sometimes, we’re able to retrieve a body, but often, there’s… nothing.”
“So, could there be rogue Inquisitors out there?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t know if I would go that far,” Vestan replied. “The Council might not know everything, but I’m sure we’d know if an Inquisitor had broken with Krigor.”
“Right,” I said and nodded.
“So, your mission,” he said and picked up the scrap of paper.
“Yes, the demon,” I said, “In South… port?”
“Southbay,” my mentor corrected. “This should be another new location for you.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I said and grinned. “I haven’t been further than Ash Hollow since that business with the sorcerer. Is it another citadel?”
“On the contrary,” Vestan replied. “It’s a small coastal town, mostly known for its fishing fleet.”
“Sounds very charming,” I chuckled. “The kind of town where the sea breeze lulls you into a false sense of security, while all hell breaks loose.”
“Hardly,” Vestan chuckled. “It’s about as exciting as church service on most days. Perhaps the kind of place the Emissaries prefer.”
“Not somewhere the demons usually visit?” I asked.
“It tends to be peaceful, so just the fact that a demon is in the area caught my attention,” Vestan sighed.
“I wonder why the demon decided to go there?” I said.
“We’re not sure,” Vestan replied. “Which is another reason I’m sending you. I’m hoping you can learn something about the demon’s activities and maybe figure out why it’s there. There may be no reason beyond spreading mayhem, but if there is a larger plot afoot we need to be vigilant.”
“Do we know the demon’s name at least?” I asked.
“Vargorath,” Vestan replied. “And that’s about all we know. It last appeared a few decades ago, and we expected to see the bastard resurface soon. Your squire, Severin, should be able to tell you a bit about its known habits and such. I hear he has been doing well in his studies of demonology.”
“I can barely pull him away from the library,” I chuckled. “Unless lured with ale, obviously. He’s come quite a long way from his potato-peeling days.”
“As have you,” Vestan said. “What was it… a musician in Queens?”
“Well, that’s true,” I agreed. “It’s been quite a diversion of careers.”
“Quite,” Vestan smiled.
“So, Vargorath,” I said as I felt my face flush slightly from the praise.
“It’s just a typical minor demon,” Vestan said. “It has just enough power to cause trouble, but you should be able to handle it easily. As I said, if you could learn more about why it selected Southbay, that would help us immensely.”
“Vargorath is all too powerful for you,” Groklaq interrupted in his irritating squeal of a voice. “He once arm-wrestled a storm giant and won. Twice.”
“Arm-wrestled a storm giant, huh?” I repeated with a raised eyebrow, as I shot a skeptical glance in the direction of the imp, who was now cackling with glee. “Impressive.”
“Ignore him, Ronan,” Vestan said as he rolled his eyes, clearly unamused by the imp’s antics. “The imp’s tales are as tall as they come.”
But Groklaq was on a roll now, and he continued to spin his web of deceit.
“And you know, Vargorath can shoot fire from his eyes, and he flies on a dragon which feasts on his enemies,” the imp cackled.
“Shooting fire, you say? That would be quite the party trick,” I said dryly as I flicked my palm and created a hand-sized ball of flame. “Very impressive.”
Groklaq’s eyes widened as he watched the flame curl into a ball, and he quickly quieted again as though he had remembered Vestan’s previous threat.
“In any case,” Vestan said as he cleared his throat, “arm-wrestling champion or not, Vargorath is still a danger to the civilians of Southbay. Killing the demon is your first priority. Whatever you uncover after that is a bonus.”
“I understand,” I nodded. “I’m sure we’ll be able to handle this quickly.”
“Good,” Vestan said with a nod. “You’ll have tonight to gather what you’ll need. You’ll leave at first light.”
I stood and shook hands with my mentor before I turned to leave Vestan’s office.
“Good luck, Inquisitor,” Groklaq jested with another malicious grin. “I hear Vargorath has a soft spot for demon hunters. You two might become fast friends.”
I halted in my tracks and slowly turned to face the imp. With a swift and practiced motion, I unsheathed the demon’s dagger that I carried at my waist. Its dark and wicked blade gleamed ominously in the light of the room, and Groklaq’s eyes widened with fear. The imp squealed in terror and recoiled once more into the far corner of its cage.
“I’m sure Vargorath and I will be the best of friends,” I said with a sardonic smile. “Especially once I have introduced him to this little beauty.”
Groklaq wisely fell silent, and with a satisfied smirk, I nodded to Vestan and then left the office.
As I walked through the halls of the Inquisitors’ headquarters, I pondered my upcoming mission. There didn’t seem to be anything unusual about it, other than the setting, but I knew better than to let my guard down, no matter how charming the town might be. Demons always had their way of turning the most peaceful of places into a battlefield, and even a laid-back coastal town could quickly become a scene of chaos.
My feet seemed to find their own way to the library, where I found Severin squirreled away in his usual corner by one of the large stone fireplaces. His nose was buried in a large leather-bound book, and his hair had a slight layer of dust from all the time he’d spent poking among the books and scrolls.
“How’d I know you would be here?” I said loudly.
“By the gods, Ronan,” Severin gasped as his hand shot to his chest, “How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me?”
“I just like to keep you on your toes, pal,” I winked. “We’re in a risky business, after all. You can’t let your guard down or a demon might sneak up behind you.”
“Just you wait until you’ve had too many ales at the inn,” Severin replied as he closed his book. “You’ll wake up the next morning missing your eyebrows.”
“Ahh, now that should be a terrifying threat,” I said as I dropped into an armchair opposite him. “But I know for a fact that if I’m deep in an alcohol-induced sleep, then so are you.”
