The local Lord's Sheriff walks out into the courtyard and appears stunned. "That's it, two men? The Sheriff said to himself. Better than nothing I guess. The Sheriff thought. The Sheriff looked over Sarne and Azazel. Then he started the briefing.

"The Marsh Flats have persisted in suffering under the wrath of the Mud Worms. The gang gaining more and more power in the territory. Recently, they have started to steal and hoard Bogskippers, valuing their effectiveness for navigating the swamps. It is believed that with an army of Bogskippers, they can outfit their gang and become more of a problem. Lord Lilicors is asking for help in freeing and retrieving the Bogskippers and returning them to their owners. You are asked to find a Mud Worm camp and free any Bogskippers they may be holding there, dispatching any the members who may try to stop you." explained the Lord's Sheriff. "as you can see there are only two of you this gang is not to be underestimated. Good hunting you two." The Sheriff added.

Sarne tunes to the other man. "I can track well and already have an idea where the gang is or the area." Sarne comments. looking over "I am Ser, Sarne Sequoia, Lord of Grey Stone Keep, Captain of the Shadow Wolves Hunters." said Sarne introducing himself. "what can I call you?" Sarne asked inquiring about the man.

The man was a well-muscled man, 6 and half feet toll. He has brown hair that is always tousled, giving it an effortless messy look that misrepresents the extraordinary effort that is put into it. Azazel has striking green eyes. Customarily clothed in the loose-fitting clothing of the region. Sarne did get an uneasy feeling about him. he could feel the darkness in him.

---

Quest Name: Skip With Me
Participants: Two or more
Location: Marsh Flats
Post Requirements: 5 posts per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Renown
Description: The Marsh Flats have continued to suffer under the wrath of the Mud Worms, the gang quickly gaining more and more control of the region. Recently, they have begun to steal and hoard Bogskippers, valuing their usefulness for navigating the swamps. It is believed that with an army of Bogskippers, they can outfit their gang and become more of a problem. Lilicors is asking for help in freeing and retrieving the Bogskippers and returning them to their owners. You are asked to find a Mud Worm camp and free any Bogskippers they may be holding there, dispatching any the members who may try to stop you.

Azazel had zoned out during the obligatory preamble. Everything the sheriff had said was on the job request, and the man himself wasn't very interesting to the manipulation demon. His would-be partner though... Yes, there was something there to exploit. Being that his vessel was the heir of a scion of a noble house back in Zeinav, Azazel had plenty of practice dealing with the upper echelons of mortals. Moreover, it was in the intrigue and coercion of courtiers in centuries past that the demon first spawned. Such routine work was child's play at this point.

Now look here, Arteron. The first thing to know about nobles is their desire to be recognized. They are willing to overlook infractions if they think others are beneath them and appearing subservient and in awe inculcate such impressions like a charm. As if I ever wanted to learn something so dull. Wake me when we get to the camp, and I can eviscerate the bandits. Spoilsport.

"Ah, Lord Sequoia, your reputation precedes you. I'm certain that you see something in this mission your fellow nobles do not in accepting such a seemingly innocuous request. I am Azazel, a simple adventurer and glad to have such an esteemed personage as a companion. While I expected nothing less, your knowledge over the rabble in the area is quite impressive, lord."

"You can just call me Sarne while we are out. Yes, I do know something about the group we are after" says Sarne looking up at the sky "It will be hot today." added Sarne shaking his head. Knowing the swampland could be a dangerous place many things could go wrong. They would have to travel carefully Sarne had a mount but did not know if Azazel had one. "So what brings you here you after something more than bugs?" asked Sarne.

Sarne had been tracking a few old soldiers from the Vanguard. Sarne would not call them that anymore. They were traders in his eyes they betrayed his family and the temple tortured his cousin and did many other things. Sarne was going to kill them. Something he thought he would never have to do in his lifetime.

Sarne cracked a smile "I am ready to go when you are I have a ride if you need one. Sacreech does not bite much," said Sarne with a sly grin and joking. Sarne started to walk out of the courtyard. He gave a loud whistle. It was answered with a loud screech from a Terror Bird. It came out of the trees standing 15 feet tall at the head as it walked on all fours like a dragon would it stretched out its wings that looked about 40 feet end to end. This thing was big an average man could fit in its mouth. "You with me or do you have something else?" Asked Sarne.

"Merely trying to do my part as a faithful servant of Charon. I seek out wherever help is needed. Though, the swamp is not my favorite domain..." Azazel suffused his words with respect and humility while Arteron laughed at the starkness of the lie, despite how convincing it was. A grin took shape on the demon's face, one that could be construed as charming and carefree but whose cause was for an altogether more sinister reason. Playing mortals for fools never ceases to bring me joy.

Azazel quirked an eyebrow at the appearance of the Terror Bird, a most unusual mount for a noble lord. Curiouser and curiouser. Now THAT looks like a beast worth fighting! Restrain yourself, Arteron. I will not allow you to accost the mortal or his mount. Content yourself with the battle to come. The wrath demon's protestations were half-hearted as he fell into the haze of anticipating battle. The vessel smiled placatingly at Sarne, with arms upraised, but notably showed no signs of fear.

"If you're offering, Lord Sarne, I would be most gratified to avoid the mire. I daresay we might also have a better view to spot the camp from the air. After you, sir."

Sarne looked back at Azazel something was still bothering Sarne about him. he seemed nice talks nice but his eyes gave away something deeper about the man. Sarne's celestial side his blood was warning Sarne. Sarne looked back at Azazel Sarne could have sworn the man's face changed it was a normal thing more like something else. Sane could not put his finger on it.

Sarne got close to Screech and patted it on the neck "This is Screech, Screech this is Azazel." said Sarne introducing Azazel. The large Terror Bird's head turned to eye Azazel it sniffed at him shook its head then snapped at him. Sarne looked at the Bird and slapped it hard on the neck. "No!" said Sarne in a commanding voice. "I am Sorry Azazel Sareech was looking for a snack," explained Sarne with a smile.

Sarne climbed on to screech and sat in the saddle. "It save come on Azazel," said Sarne holding out his hand. When Azazel was on and settled Sarne said some words in old elfish and with a few jumps and flaps of the Terror Bird's powerful wings they were in the air. For a large bird, it was fast and graceful in the air. it felt like they were flying twice as fast as a horse could run. it was hour before they were there flying near the camp. Seeing some mud huts from the air.

As the large bird snapped at Azazel, the demon resisted the urge to allow Arteron to take control and slice this detestable creature's head off. Oh dear, I fear you may be influencing me most horribly, Arteron. You could do with being less of a pansy. 

Undeterred, Azazel grabbed Sarne's hand and took a seat on the Terror Bird. Admittedly, the creature's virtues were much easier to see from the air, as the pair were spared from the tyranny of the swamp for the wind. A journey of hours on foot was reduced to minutes as the beast flew at blinding speeds over the light canopy of the Marsh Flats. Before too much longer, a makeshift camp, complete with mud huts could be seen from their vantage. I suppose we must give them credit for staying true to their name. Mortals truly are detestable. No arguments here.

"So what's the plan in delaing with these miscreants, Lord Sarne? Surely we don't need to exercise restraint against such criminals?" It was a bit of preliminary damage control. Arteron surely wouldn't leave any of his victims alive, so gauging if Sarne was one of those 'noble redemption' types was useful for formulating a strategy.

As the large beast lunged forward to snap at Azazel, the demon resisted the urge to allow Arteron to take the mantle of control and slice the detestable creature’s head off. Nevertheless, the manipulation demon withheld his impulses and simply took Sarne’s hand to climb atop his mount. Oh dear, I fear you may be having a most loathsome influence on my humors, Arteron. Good. You could do with being less of a pansy.



From the air, the virtues of the Terror Bird were more readily apparent, as the pair were freed from the tyranny of the brackish mud on wings of wind. The bird flew at a blinding pace, turning a journey of hours into one of minutes as they soared above the sparse tree canopy of the Marsh Flats. Before too long, a collection of ramshackle mud huts in a small encampment could be seen from their vantage. I suppose you must give the criminals points for being true to their branding. Mortals truly are a detestable lot. No arguments here.



As they approached their destination, Azazel leaned forward to make his voice heard over the whistling wind. “Do you have a plan of engagement, Lord Sarne? Surely we needn't exercise restraint against such loathsome criminals?” It was a bit of damage control before the fighting began. Arteron certainly would spare no atrocity, and if Sarne was one of those ‘noble redemption’ types, Azazel would need to come up with a way to circumvent his ire. He needed the Terror Bird to get out of here, after all, so killing the noble was hardly an option.

Terror Bird turned and slowed as it circled silently. The Bogskippers were starting to fidget nervously knowing there was a predator overhead. When is there ever not a predator around in a swamp? The Bogskippers were a predator of anything smaller than them. A Terror Bird was on a different level. as they started to move around.

sarne leaned back "I was going to drop you off on the first low fly-by. The guys in the green cloaks with the tree and wolf on the back are mine. Do what you want with the rest. I don't think they are just going to give up." suggested speaking just over the noise of the wind. Sarne looking now down at the camp. he figured that Azazel would like this plan of just jumping in there and killing the bad guys. it was that bloodthirsty look he would get into his eyes now and then.

Sarne as promised lined up and flew in Screech let out a terrifying scream [1] that surprised and sent the Mud Worms bandits running in all directions. The fact the Terror Bird was huge just helped in the horrifying presence of the Bird showing up out of nowhere.

Sarne let Azazel off. As the large wings flapped holding and hovering Azazel got off of Screech. When Azazel was clear Screech shot up in the air and made a hard turn. Swooping back in Sarne slid off near some Bandits with his shield out and his sword Drawn. "Thought I was dead?" said Sarne out loud.


[1] Terror Bird can release a scream as a defensive or offensive measure, causing a fear effect for one post.

You know, I have a sneaking suspicion our dear noble wasn't entirely honest with us, the manipulation demon mused, watching his companion fly on his predatory mount to his marked targets. I think he just might have picked this mission for reasons that aren't entirely above board.
Who gives a damn? Combat. Give me the reins.
Alright, alright, touchy. Standard contract: no killing the noble and don't prioritize his marked targets. Free reign on the bandits.
Yes, yes, whatever. It's time to KILL.

Azazel rolled the vessel's eyes as his last action in command of their shared puppet before relinquishing control to the wrath demon. Immediately, Arteron's bloodlust and legendary rage surged, causing the vessel to grow to a mighty 15 foot height, with bulky musculature to match ^{[Berserker, Berserker's Rage] [Berserker, Intimidating Presence]}. If the Terror Bird wasn't enough for the more stalwart of the bandits' number, the sight of a hulking giant rushing forward with screams of war certainly would.

Several of the assembled criminals froze in fear, while the more present-minded of their number began to flee in terror. Arteron wasn't about to allow prey to get away. Twirling his dual-bladed weapon faster than a mortal eye could see, he let it fly, an arcing guillotine of death, eviscerating three of the bandits that tried to run in its path ^{[Boomerang Blade] [Berserker, Sweeping Fury]}.

Discontent to simply wait for his weapon to return, the brute rushed forward, far quicker than a mortal ought to be able, physically grabbing one of the shaken bandits and using him as an improvised bludgeoning instrument against his fellows in a savage display of fearsome strength ^{[Bull's Strength] [Fiend, Abyssal Infusion]}. A few of the braver, or more foolish, criminals attempted to lash out into the enraged hulk with their weapons, only for them to clatter uselessly against the giant's impenetrable skin ^{[Hardened Force]}.

On the second pass, Sarne did not waste any time. Sarne rolled off the back of Screech landing on his feet and sliding some on the soft soil. Screech flew higher and circled screaming now and then letting everyone know she was there. With his shield at the ready and sword drawn, He was ready for whoever attacked him. It appeared everyone was running from the giant rampaging in the camp. Like roaches at night when a light is shined on them scattering in every direction.

Three armed men ran out of a clay hut. The three men Sarne was looking for. They raised their swords and then froze surprised and in horror when they saw Sarne standing there. "Lord, Sarne, Sequoia, Captain? You are supposed to be dead." One of the men said in shock.

Sarne gave an evil smile "Those rumors were wrong. I am quite alive." Sarne said his tone cold and unemotional. "I could understand Leaving but this is unforgivable and abandoning the Vanguard when they needed you most. Your oath before your God!" shouted Sarne with anger in his voice. The men looked at each other with some fear. The man before them was not the boy they remembered.

One of them yelled a battle cry and charged. Sarne moved with lightning speed. [1] Sarne moved threw them like they were standing still giving them all deep burning cuts as the smell of burnt flesh filled the air they cried out in Pain and blood started to run down their bodies. The Red hot blade cut right through them like butter.

Sarne slid to a stop and turned to face them again as had moved right threw them and ended his move some ten feet away. All three had deep gashes on their bodies. [2] Sarne's presence struck fear into their hearts. The three men knew what just happened but did not see it. They shrieked in fear and cowered be for Sarne.

[1] Cyran's Haunting Blade / Fire Rune
[2] Looming Fear

To say that the bandits of the camp fought against the raging hulk of death that was Arteron was a kind way of illustrating that they were as lambs to the slaughter, stepping up in waves only to be culled, as the mud ran red with the blood of a dozen men. Having caught his double-bladed weapon on the return of its arc, the demon eviscerated through his foes, never stopping to give any indication that the resilience of their tender flesh posed any obstacle to him at all.

The burgeoning hopelessness at the juggernaut's advance was bolstered with every man he felled, with every step he took. Those who foolishly attacked drew the giant's ire, causing their deaths to come quicker ^{[Berserker, Blood Feud]}. A few of the bandits emerged from huts clad in the heaviest armor they could manage, often hastily donned breastplates of middling quality, but the demon tore through them, metal and flesh in all, as easily as the others ^{[Berserker, Devastating Force]}.

All life trembled before the tornado of blood and death, in the futile hope he would pass them over. Arteron proved this idea wrong again and again as every swing of his lightning-quick spinning blade severed another life, and usually, quite a few limbs ^{[Berserker, Sweeping Fury]}. The wrath demon was in ecstasy, glad for their numbers if not for their skill.

Sarne saw the destruction that Azazel had done so far. sarne almost wanted to say a prayer for them the farmers most likely did not even have a chance and the Novice had the right idea but badly executed their maneuver to surround Azazel. They in their rush did not even put their armor on right.

Something changed in Sarne. [1]His body started to change Sarne's celestial features started to show. His blond hair changed to almost silver which shines like metal. His complexion turns to tan-colored lustrous skin. Sarne's eyes change to a piercing gold. White feathery wings grew out of his back. Something set off his celestial features a demonic presence.

Sarne raised his hand in the air and a ball and a ball of bright light formed [2] pure energy cascading down from the sky. The light will cover the area where the three traders Vanguard were standing, filling it with light. The light burned them scorching their skin and causing them to scream in pain. They were charred amblers started to rise from them as their equipment flames erupted from them and the ground. It felt like the sun itself was casting light on them they fell to the ground moaning dyeing burning to ashes.

Sarne changed his attention to Azazel. Sarne regretted letting Azazel go unchecked. Now knowing where the feeling was coming from. This was too easy thought Sarne there was more to come.

[1] Beacon of Light
[2] Piercing Light heavy damage

Too soon, far too soon, the battle was over. The pitiful weaklings of bandits trying to pass for bandits had stopped coming. Arteron roared in frustration. These mortals were supposed to sate his bloodgreed for a while yet, but their numbers ran out too quickly to justify their lamentable skill.

The raging behemoth raised his arm to shield his eyes from the golden corona of light that emerged from Sarne. His eyes took on a golden hue and angelic wings sprouted form his back. A celestial host.

Damned angel puppet!

Arteron could only gnash his teeth in anger as he glared at the noble. The restrictions Azazel placed in their pact forbade him from harming the the man but the wrath demon's flesh crawled his festering hatred as he looked upon the celestial transfiguration. He had fought too many angels in the past to have anything but an abiding hatred for them.

Where other demons, such as manipulation demons like Azazel, lurked in shadows behind layers of defenses to shield themselves from the heavens' meddling, Arteron and his brothers had stood as frontline warriors in the fight, reveling in the divine bloodshed that any clash between the opposing forces would prompt. Nothing tore quite so nicely as angel wings...

Seeing the hatred in his eyes Sarne was no fool there was dealing with a demon inside Azazel. Sarne just sighed when he looked at Azazel. A man ran from a hut and swung at Sarne with his axe. Moving to one side hardy glancing at the man. Sarne did an upswing with his shield stopping the attack. Sarne used the shield to sweep the attacker off their feet, The man landed on his back. Sarne followed with a thrust of his sword into the man's chest.

The man jerked for a moment then stopped. Sarne pulled his sword out of his chest blood ran from the cavity in his upper body. Walking towards Azazel Sarne did not let down his guard. "I hold to my promises Azazel. I do not hold ill will agent you or your friend inside you. I am not like others who will judge you," explained Sarne looking around at the camp.

"But be warned. I will not just sit by if you attack me," said Sarne warning Azazel. "Oh, good work on the brigands here. But if we run into women and children just in case. They are off-limits. That is my line and that will not be crossed," said Sarne with no uncertain terms.

Sarne smiled and started towards some huts in the back of the camp he had a feeling there was more to see back there and more things to figure out as he walked Sarne kept a close eye on Azazel.

With the immediate danger passed, Arteron's current contract expired, shunting control of the vessel back to Azazel, who made their puppet reform to his normal size and hue, before following after Sarne. The manipulation demon had maintained a steady level of awareness when it came to their noble companion and thus caught the exchange between Arteron and Sarne, much to his displeasure.

Save it, Azazel I don't want to hear a lecture about 'being mean' to mortals.
No, Arteron, that one's dangerous. I still hold hope that we may be able to avoid killing him, but he sees too much. For his sake, let's hope he doesn't press the issue or go spreading unsavory rumors about us.

The wrath demon was taken aback by Azazel's support of him, mistrusting it, but very much willing to accept help in the light of a true antagonist.

If he doesn't, I'll not hesitate to clip that birdie's wings.

Azazel's eyes were narrowed at the back of Sarne's head as the pair moved toward the final huts. On the off-chance the relationship could still be salvaged, the manipulation demon spoke, with none of the easy joviality of their conversations beforehand.

"Apologies for you having to see that display. Rest assured, I have a vested interest in maintaining my good name and good relationships amongst other adventurers. I'll follow your lead in this last engagement."