Succubus Inquisition Ch. 01

Anger coursed through Sir Blake's veins, as he grabbed hold of a four by four and swung with all his might. The block of wood connected with a monk's face and exploded into a thousand splinters. Two came at the knight from each side as their brother fell to the ground between them. The attack left the knight's sides open and vulnerable. The two monks took turns landing punches to his sides and rib cage. Sir Blake coughed up blood and fell back to his knees. Each time he attempted to block he's other side was struck.

The fourth monk known as Elpis by the Order bent down and checked his fallen brother for a pulse, when he couldn't find one he turned to the kneeling knight. He yelled out in rage standing up straight and kicked.

Sir Blake's lungs gave out and collapsed as the monk's foot landed square in his chest. Flung back to the ground, his vision blurred and the world around him spun. His fight was over, as he struggled to take a simple breath. He lay upon the dust covered ground bloody and bruised. It felt like more than one rib was broken, his face was swollen and he couldn't open his eyes. He sounded like a wheezing animal with each shallow breath he took.

The three remaining monks towered over him in victory; all that they needed was the finishing blow.

You know that moment people say your entire life flashes before your eyes right before you die. Sir Blake longed to see his childhood, the greatest memories he had. Sadly those memories didn't appear, instead he saw three blurry men standing over him through silted eyes.

He smiled, mouth full of blood that spilled forth, "I'll be waiting for you in the afterlife," His voice cracked as he struggled to speak.

The nearby pile of rubble began to stir as Plymouth pushed his way out. His tower shield started to crack under the pressure but he kept pushing, legs beginning to burn and shake. Just before his legs gave out he urged them on for one last push. Finally he was free, as he climbed out the first thing he noticed was three figures within the dust filled air staring down at another. Between coughing fits Plymouth made a judgment call and released his shield. Along his belt he gripped several throwing knives and raised his arm into the air, preparing to throw.

Elpis reached down and grabbed the knight by his throat and Sir Blake spat blood into Elpis' face. "You are the cause of all the suffering in these lands. Say your prayers and I will gladly send you to which ever God you wish," The monk said.

The monk to Elpis' right turned to see what all the commotion was behind him. His eyes opened wide but didn't have time to react before three throwing knives impaled his body. His last breath escaped his lips as his body fell back into Elpis' outstretched arm. The knight once again fell upon the ground, his armor creating a loud thud.

The now lifeless body laid within Elpis' arms as the man to his left sprung to action. He swung a right hook that Plymouth blocked with a raised elbow, before he pulled out his sword and impaled the monk upon it.

Elpis reached out and grabbed Sir Blake's sword as Plymouth raised his shield back into his arm. He took a deep breath before taunting the monk in tattered robes.

"Let's dance you motherless swine."

The monk lashed out, his sword clashed with the Horadric's shield. Swords and shield struck one another time and time again. Elpis spun between strikes attempting to distract, yet neither man gained any ground as they danced the battle out, superior skill against superior armor. The monk landed several blows around Plymouth's guard only to have them ricochet off the plated armor.

Plymouth had enough of the dance and charged forward, slamming his shield into the monk. Teeth and blood spilled out from Elpis' mouth before steel slashed across his chest. The monk dropped the sword as he rolled back and retreated from the room. Plymouth hurried over to Sir Blake's side, throwing his sword and shield to the ground.

His worry soon replaced by joy as the knight opened his swollen eyes, "They sure aren't push overs, huh sir," Plymouth joked. Sir Blake coughed as he instinctively laughed.

"Don't make me laugh, help me... to my feet," Sir Blake managed to say between coughs, grasping at his ribs. Plymouth was more than happy to oblige and pulled the knight's arm over his shoulder. Sir Blake hissed in pain as he struggled to his feet.

Sir Blake and Plymouth exchanged glances as the dust settled. Entering this building had turned out to be their grave. What remained of the monastery cracked and creaked, pieces of wood continued to fall around them. This only served to stir up more dust, clouding their vision. The entrance behind them had collapsed, they'd have to risk going further inside to find another way out.

The knight reached down to gather his sword and took a deep breath that turned into a coughing fit. His ribs burned with every movement he made.

"Leave it sir; we're getting out of here."

The two men crept forward, wary about springing any traps or getting ambushed by more monks. They walked through the second door, book shelves and tables were knocked over. Support beams and pieces of the ceiling littered around the room along with a dozen of dead monks.

"Well we made it inside," Sir Blake joked as he leaned on Plymouth's shoulder for support.

"Yeah only a hundred rooms to go."

"Heh, let's get the fuck out quick."

"Maybe if we stand under that hole the building will fall around us and we'll be out," Plymouth replied as Sir Blake started another coughing fit while attempting to laugh. "This place has turned into a mass grave."

"As it should be, though makes me wonder, what caused the attack."

"It surely wasn't us."

"Right, I would have stepped outside first," Sir Blake said with a smirk. Deep down he was over joyed. Not only considering Plymouth saved his life but also because the man had survived as well. Over the past few hours the two of them had bonded, Sir Blake believed he had made a new friend. He didn't have enough friends in this life. A fact he would change if he lived.

The walls buckled under the pressure of the collapsing roof. The inner chamber was massive. It would have been a sight to behold under normal situations. When thousands of books lined the shelves, chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Unique tapestries lined any open space along the walls.

Now however everything was in shambles, destroyed, ruined or falling apart as the two men stumbled through. There was a humongous hole that continued through multiple walls and floors. One well-placed boulder was all it took to bring this place crumbling down to the ground.

Flapping sounds came from up ahead, getting louder as whatever it was came closer. A thin green mist began to enter the hole, gaining size as the flapping got louder. The mist gathered and appeared to be alive and with a mind of its own. It acted as if a beast, preparing to jump down into the hole. The two men quickened their pace.

"Well there goes that idea; we're not standing under that!" Plymouth called out, shield in one hand, knight in the other.

*****

General Titus looked out at the valley growing more concerned by each passing moment. The green mist now filled the horizon and flowed ever closer to their ranks. Siege and arrows fired consistently into the mist to no avail, and the creature within had vanished behind the crumbling Monastery, clearly not interested in them. Cugath of Titus' war council shouted commands down below, a true Horadric warrior with the courage needed in these times. Without it the army would fall to despair, faced by such abnormal conditions. The Monks clearly practiced some form of black magic after all.

The mist came to a stop merely fifty feet from the blockade as if an army posed to strike. The green substance began to thicken in mass.

"Aim the weapons lower, at the base of the shit," Commanded Cugath, for he alone recognized the threat based on past experiences standing in formation before another army. A moment later a volley of boulders launched and impacted, squashing sounds filled the air and rumblings began, turning to growls and snarls. The man shouted, pleased to hear something crushed within the mist, pleasure short lived.

The mists began to part, clearing the once hidden army. The valley was filled with hordes of gruesome monsters. Blood thirsty monsters from the horror stories and legends of old, eager for a fight lined up into mock formations. One green skinned beast took a whiff and appeared to laugh and savor the smell of fear and utter terror.

The Horadric's applause quickly turned to unsteady and shaking hands. Never before had they faced such foes. Only one among them hid their fear and shouted out, taking action, "Fire at will, let none last the coming night!" Cugath's orders were met, siege and arrows unleashed upon their new enemies.

"Front likes prepare for glory," The council member shouted, his lack of fear gave hope to those cowering in it. The men gripped their shields with greater purpose and fortified the wall created by them. Yet the monsters appeared unscathed, fallen ranks replenished by those behind.

Demonic grunts, the whole lot of them. Their skin a deep green, rippling muscles covered with red runic markings. Little to no hair was present aside from atop their skulls, which fell upon their backs in thick dread locks. Each demon looked hungrier than the next. Titus worried that the Monks opened a gateway to the afterlife, and he set mind to task in making them regret it.

One last howl sounded their attack, every monster in sight charged forth, snarling, to tear into flesh. Another volley of arrows hit the front waves sending many of them to the ground only to be crushed as the Demonic horde charged over them.

The Horadric lines braced for impact as the horde closed in on them.

"Show these bruits what it means to face the Horadric Legion and fight to the last breath," Cugath shouted out, barely heard by those closest to him as the charging army blotted out all other sounds. A loud clash threated to burst his ear drums as the Demonic horde collided with the shield wall and pushed it back.

Boots dug into the dirt as each man struggled to hold on, it felt like a building had been tossed at them. Three lines pushed forward attempting to halt the horrifying and hungry army's advance. Arrows had ceased to be fired as the archers still grasped at their ears, heads still vibrating from the loud impact.

"Gather your wits and put an end to these beasts," Slowly the archers obeyed Cugath's command and raised their bows into the air. Abate with shaky hands.

Titus looked on in sheer terror, not sure how to comprehend the force before his eyes. The lines below began to shatter under the pressure, and the fighting started, steel against Demonic flesh. Demons fell by the hundreds, yet still they came as if an unlimited force had been unleashed upon the world. The Horadric Calvary would have charged into battle, however the horses disobeyed commands. Scared by the ravenous beasts the horses attempted to flee, bucking up on hindquarters. The lines would have to hold out until the animals were brought under control and set to purpose.

With the front lines broken swords slashed through Demonic flesh, claws bounced off shields. Others ripped the shields apart before the Demons feasted upon Horadric blood. Horadric lines formed tighter as new front lines were created by those originally in the middle. Once again Demon lines crashed into shield walls. Monsters snarled and threated to break their will to fight with a single stare.

Siege weapons fired another onslaught into the mass of Demons. Cugath was amazed at the furious beats yet stood proud as their numbers fell drastically. A force of sheer numbers that lacked any true skill, purely ravenous animals let lose, nothing more. His eyes opened wide as not even a second later a Demon leaped into the air over the front lines into a siege weapon, shattering it to a thousand pieces. With flaring arms in every direction as a child would in a temper tantrum.

Cugath rushed over, unsheathing his sword to confront the beast before it could cause more damage. Two more Demons leaped into the air only to be met with arrows ready for them. Their failure made others think twice about leaping into the fray. Cugath closed in on the first Demon just as it destroyed another of the siege weapons, he screamed out to get its attention.

He stopped in mid charge as the Demon turned towards him, it straightened out on hind legs, rotating shoulders and flexed its muscles before letting out the most terrifying growl / howl Cugath had ever heard. Cugath was determined to show his men courage and give them the strength to overcome their own fears. Even though deep down he was petrified, the army needed to put an end to the foul and un-earthy force.

He raised his shield and sword as he entered a fighting stance, taunting the Demon to face him. The beast took the bait and lunged forward beating clawed hands against the shield, threatening to tumble Cugath to the ground. The endless onslaught of blows hit the shield with such force that it began to crack and splinter. Cugath's arm burned yet he held his arm up in defiance.

All the while Cugath managed to land a few blows of his own cutting flesh, yet the Demon kept at him unaffected. Blood seeped from his wounds and Cugath almost hurled as the foul stench met his nostrils. The man's body ached from the attacks consistently bashed upon him. The Demon pulled back for a strong strike before Cugath dropped to the ground, causing the Demon to stumble.

Cugath used his momentum to roll forward while slashing at the Demon's legs, cutting deep into the flesh. The Demon fell to one knee as Cugath rose to his feet behind it, he lunged his blade deep into the beast's back. The Demon howled out in paid before Cugath cut off its head, the body fell to the ground as the head soured off into the distance.

The army cheered and fought on with new found furiously, spirited on by their leader's courage and will to live. Those lines that had broken reformed into closer formations, until four distinct turtle formations stood against the Demonic horde. In the distraction Cugath hadn't noticed the other siege weapons fall to ruin.

The Demonic horde slowly crushed the Horadric blockade and when all hope faded from thought they heard horns blow in the distance. Cugath looked up, his body aching from battle. The Horadric Calvary lead by General Titus finally charged down the hill towards them.

Demons turned focus towards the coming force, giving the remaining men cause to fight on. Horses charged with riders lowering their lances as they met and ran through waves upon waves of Demons. Few horsemen fell to the beasts that either got speared, trampled upon or both. In a moment the battle was over, Cugath let out a deep breath. He was amazed that they survived.

All of a sudden every Demonic body turned to dust and blew out towards the valley. The dust turned to green mist, floating to a single spot. It collected and merged into a massive ball which took shape and solidified into one massively angry Demon. The thing looked like a mix between a grizzly bear and mutant boar from hell. Razor sharp teeth filled its snarling visage.

General Titus called to his men and the Calvary reformed, yet once again shook in fear.

"Charge forth brothers so we can live to put an end to those responsible for letting such horrors lose upon our world," Titus shouted as his steed bucked on its hindquarters before charging forward, quickly joined by all those around him. Horadric warriors screamed out their battle cry as they closed in on their new foe.

"Circle around, strike when its back's to you!" The Calvary kept the Demon guessing, yet it turned quicker than anyone imagined possible, swiping down multiple riders with a single swing of its arm. Jaws clamped down on a rider and chumped, bones crushed and blood dripped from its giant maw before the Demon swallowed both rider and horse.

General Titus closed in while the beast was distracted feasting and threw his lance at the creature's throat. The lance impaled within flesh as Titus unsheathed his sword and slashed twice at the belly of the beast. Before the Demon could react Titus rode off to join his brothers circling around the infernal animal. Blood oozed from its wounds, snarling the Demon went into a feral rage and lunged forward, biting, clawing and kicking as if squashing a hive of ants.

One after another the Horadric riders fell under the clutches of the beast. Covered in blood it was hard to tell how much belonged to the Demon. Titus noticed his lance still dangled from the beast's throat, the blade hung on by a thread yet wasn't deep enough to do real damage.

"Distract it," He called out to his men. The riders grouped up and charged at the monster, lances posed to strike. The Demon swiped, knocking the weapons from wary hands before the beast leap into their ranks. The Demon enjoyed the taste of human blood upon its tongue. Titus closed in from the Demon's blind spot and gripped his hanging lance as he plunged it further into the beast's flesh. The lance pierced brain, before Titus broke the blade from hilt.

The Demon's furious howl was cut short, going from slaughtering the riders to a lifeless corpse to fall upon the blood soiled ground. The remaining blockade in the distance shouted and applauded the Horadric victory. Once again their General sent the Demons to their makers.

Cugath nodded his approval as the remaining riders returned to the frail blockade. The riders were greeted by cheers as they approached.

"Return home and deliver report, the war upon this Monk order has just begun. We'll need the entire Horadric legion at our backs if we are going to put an end to these Demon worshipers," General Titus commanded to the few remaining riders. They nodded and set mind to purpose.

"Now let us set focus on the Monks responsible for..."

"Sir, look," Shouted Cugath, cutting his General's speech off for good reason as they all turned to see the lone Demonic corpse turn to dust. Once again the mist spread out and filled the valley. A thick green mist grew to cover the horizon. It grew to such density that the men couldn't see anything through it. Even the Monastery was hidden from sight. It was like their worst nightmare had come to life.

Yet the mist did not part this time. It just appeared to sit there, as if waiting for something to happen. Titus was suddenly glad he had sent riders. For it would appear none of them would live much longer. It dawned on him that Sir Blake Barbosa hadn't been seen since he entered the building. Perhaps something had happened within that caused the monks to react. He hoped his knight wasn't responsible. Titus quickly pushed that thought from mind. Blake had been right all along about the Monk Order practicing black magic.

All the stories Blake had told now paled in comparison to the horrors the rest of them witnessed here today. If they fell here in this valley, Titus hoped that the Demons would turn on their masters and prevent any more demonic summoning before the might of the Horadric Legion crushed the Demons from this world.

The remaining men formed a line, interlocking their shields together, with the few archers standing behind them. Cugath and Titus stood at the back, prepared to give orders. Unbeknownst to them all a small amount of mist formed behind their lines.

The dense mist may have stayed where it was but it wasn't still. Tendrils swirled within as if it was alive, either that or something moved within it.

Soldiers shivered as cold sweats threatened to overcome them, afraid of what was coming. It was natural to fear what you didn't understand but the suspense risked breaking the willpower of those that remained.