The Shaman sat astride one of the Demons; not the leader, but somewhat more submissive. He bobbed gently up and down, as the beast maintained its own height. Below, he could see the mass of tangled bodies, snapping and snarling at each other. Their flight had been uneventful until the chance sighting, and the shaman had chosen to let the Demons satiate their appetites, before he forced them on. Curiously enough, the violence had not ended as he had expected, rather the creatures had fought back, and from within their ranks had emerged armoured humans. Not the Neo-Barbs from the Emerald Forest, something entirely different.
A rending tear of auto-rifle fire shocked him into the present. Demon blood sprayed on high and he knew that it was time for intervention. With raised staff he began to invoke his Power.
What looked like an amalgam of man and beast drew Alana’s attention. She noticed the crackle of energy around the staff in one of the creature’s hands and cursed.
“Incoming...magic.” she transmitted and was pleased to see her men react correctly. Exposure to Viker’s power had changed their view on life. Alana hated to admit it, but they could do with a little of their ex-Master’s mojo right now.
A flash of light signalled the discharge of the creature’s power. She zoomed in, using the resolution of her suit to clearly identify her enemy.
“We’ve got some sort of magician, demon-lover or it’s an unknown technology. I don’t care. What I want is concentrated fire and a dead Tauran.”
There was no acknowledgement of her request in the usual sense, rather an outpouring of plasma and auto-rifle fire. Their new “friends” merely followed suit, yet the effect was stunning.
“No!” screamed the Shaman as fire and bullets tore through his mount. His own defences saved him, yet his ride disintegrated beneath him. He demanded aid but felt the Demon Leader’s refusal. There would be a reckoning, just not now.
He raised his hands above his head, drawing upon his remaining power as his enchantment took form. With a rush of air and a crashing report he disappeared leaving his erstwhile minions to their own devices. If anything the fight became more savage as the Demons tried to disengage.
Alana knew when to press her advantage, and now was not the time for mercy. Leading by example she took to the air, her jets forcing her rapidly towards the fight, her Wingmen and allies following.
“Got it!” whispered Renard, showing his unbound hands and quickly moving to untie the others. They had been herded into a nearby tent. It appeared that it took a while to build the correct size bonfire for all of them. Two guards stood watchfully out the front and Harms knew that this was going to be tricky, especially without their weapons.
“Llorente!” he hissed, the soldier whose face still showed the scratch marks from his time being dragged along behind a horse, came forward.
“You and Renard will need to crawl out under the back and have a quick look around. We need some weapons, especially ours if you can find them.”
On receiving their quiet nods, the others helped lift the back of the covering and after a quick glance to either side scurried out. As Harms was helping camouflage their improvised exit, he heard the approaching tread of footsteps and hastily folded his hands behind his back. Seeing the others catching on quickly, he turned to face the entrance.
“My Lord wishes…” began the first of the mail-shirted guards, and then shouted in surprise, “Where are they!”
His companion rushed in with sword drawn and the first guard grabbed Harms by the front of his tunic, “I said, where are they, dog?” he snarled.
“Surprise!” spat Harms, his front hand latching onto that of the guard and holding it tightly, the heel of his other hand striking in a short vicious motion against the bottom of his chin.
As the head snapped backwards, Harms again struck, this time with his now free hand, punching the man in his throat. The guard gagged and fought for breath, Harms taking his time in withdrawing the knife from the sheath on the unfortunate guard’s belt.
Looking over, he saw the crumpled figure of the other soldier and the grinning faces of his men.