Demonsbane

9 REVELATIONS

Siggard stood on the eastern town wall, watching the horizon for any sign of the demonic force. He fingered the leather-bound hilt of his sword nervously as he waited, his gut churning in impatience and fear.

Unbidden, his mind turned back to the horrifying carnage of Blackmarch. The archdemon stood clear in his mind, and he knew he would recognize it immediately when it came. Somehow, despite Guthbreoht's soothing song echoing in his ears, the thought of fighting the archdemon brought a shrill terror. Still, he thought, there was vengeance, and his heart hardened.

He heard soft footfalls behind him, and he turned to see Sarnakyle approaching. The wizard held one of his books, which he set down on the parapet.

"I thought you were in the inn studying your magic," Siggard said.

Sarnakyle shrugged. "I decided to get some fresh air. Besides, I couldn't stand to wait in the inn any longer."

"You wouldn't have missed anything," Siggard pointed out. "Tilgar has messengers waiting to find us as soon as anything appears."

Sarnakyle smiled and looked to the west, where the sun hung low in the sky, casting a shadow over the town. "And I suppose you just came out here for a brief midday stroll?"

Siggard grimaced. "Something like that."

"The warning is only a few hours old," Sarnakyle said. "To be honest, I think this demon will appear sometime in the morning. It does have a large army to march here, you know."

"Doesn't make the waiting any easier."

Sarnakyle nodded. "I know what you mean."

The wizard leaned on the rough stone wall, looking out to the darkening horizon. "If Tilgar is smart, and I believe he is, his catapults will strike the demons as they come close to the town, forcing them to camp far away."

"What good would that do?"

"It would give us some space," Sarnakyle explained. "The farther away they have to camp, the less likely it will be that they can completely surround us. And we can use any advantage we can get."

"We have your magic," Siggard pointed out.

"Yes, well," Sarnakyle muttered. "We do indeed."

"Here they come!" the lookout called. A horn blast sounded, and commanders barked orders to their soldiers.

He looked out over the parapet, squinting as he peered towards the horizon. Tiny shapes began to appear in the distance, bearing strange banners.

Siggard drew his sword, felt the blade's song infuse him with strength. He tried to make out the device on the banners, but they were too far away. He looked at Sarnakyle, who was leaning forward as well, lost in concentration. Beside them were several soldiers, weapons at the ready.

The wall was filling with men-at-arms.

"Archers!" one of the commanders called. "Wait for my signal!"

Siggard looked back at the boiling horizon. The demonic army literally filled the landscape, overwhelming the hills and fields outside the town. Finally one of the banners became visible, a horrifying depiction of a flayed corpse against a black moon, mounted under a human skull. Siggard's gorge rose, and he fought back a dizzying nausea.

"No," Sarnakyle cursed. "Anybody but him!"

"What is it?" Siggard asked. "Who do we fight?"

"Assur," Sarnakyle hissed. "The favored baron of the Lord of Terror."

Siggard jumped as a catapult loosed a ranging shot, the load flying overhead only to fall short of the approaching horde. Still onward they came, creatures of all sizes, and in their center, surrounded by shadowy things that could only come from a horrible nightmare, stood the giant archdemon.

"That can't be three thousand," Siggard muttered. "Maybe five, or six, but not three."

"He's brought help."

Another rock was loosed, the boulder falling into the demonic ranks, and a barrage followed. Several monsters fell, but the horde continued to advance, relentless as a force of nature. Each gap in the line the catapults made was immediately filled as more demons entered the crush.

"We have to warn Tilgar," Sarnakyle said, turning from the wall. "We have to evacuate the town."

"What is wrong?" Siggard demanded. "What is so special about this ‘Assur'?"

Sarnakyle turned, and Siggard recoiled. The wizard's face was ashen, his eyes wild with fear. "There is no way we can possibly slay this archdemon," Sarnakyle said with absolute certainty, picking up his book from the parapet. "The battle is already lost."

They passed towards the castle, pushing past entire bands of soldiers heading to the eastern walls. No matter where they walked, they could hear the thudding of the catapults lofting rocks.

Finally they arrived, winding their way through several groups of guardsmen. Siggard tried asking many of them where Earl Tilgar could be found, but none seemed to know, telling him to ask somebody else. Siggard growled in frustration, but there was little he could do; the confusion was too great.

Eventually, they came across Hunfrith directing some soldiers to the castle walls. Sarnakyle tapped the steward on the shoulder, and the man turned abruptly.

"This had better be important," Hunfrith snapped. "In case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of a siege."

"We have to speak with Earl Tilgar immediately," Sarnakyle demanded. "This is a matter of life and death."

"He's in the war room," Hunfrith said. "You'll have to find your own way there. I'm too busy to guide you."

Sarnakyle nodded. "I remember the way." Spinning on his heel, the wizard strode into the castle, Siggard struggling to keep up. With almost unnatural deftness, Sarnakyle picked a path through the crowds of soldiers and guardsmen, calling for space to move.

The gatehouse opened into a courtyard bustling with activity. Several soldiers were repairing a catapult, and archers were rushing to the walls. Sarnakyle ignored it all, and Siggard found himself running to catch up to the wizard after taking a quick glance around.

Without ceremony they entered the keep, Sarnakyle winding his way through the maze of corridors, Siggard close behind him. Finally, they reached the war room to find Earl Tilgar pouring over maps with his three commanders and one other figure.

"Our scouts have managed to destroy their catapults," one soldier said, pointing at a map. "So we have at least one advantage."

Siggard's eyes widened as he recognized the tall, gray-cloaked man with sandy-blond hair who rose from the table to greet him.

"Greetings, Siggard," he said. "I am pleased that you found your way out of the forest."

"Tyrael," Siggard breathed, remembering the man who had shared his fire. "I had thought you a ghost."

Tyrael smiled. "I am happy to say that I am no restless spirit."

Tilgar looked over at Siggard in surprise. "You know the Archangel Tyrael?"

Siggard raised an eyebrow. "Archangel? You didn't tell me you were an angel."

"You didn't ask."

"Lord Tyrael, it is good to see you again," Sarnakyle said, bowing. "Unfortunately, I have grim news. The archdemon we fight is Assur."

Tyrael nodded. "I know. It will be a difficult fight."

"Did everybody know Tyrael was an archangel but me?" Siggard wondered out loud, but nobody answered him.

"If you are here, Tyrael, does that mean that the Lords of Heaven will intervene?" Sarnakyle asked. "I fear that is our only hope."

Tyrael shook his head sadly. "It is very difficult for the most powerful of us to appear on the mortal plane. Even I cannot manifest myself for more than a night at a time. I can offer advice, but nothing else."

"Then we are already lost," Sarnakyle said, turning to Tilgar. "We must evacuate the town, your lordship."

Tilgar shook his head. "I do not understand. What is so special about this ‘Assur'? From what I can see, even with his current numbers, we still have equal forces and the town walls to protect us."

"He is enchanted by a glyph that can only be cast once every millennium," Sarnakyle said. "He cannot be slain by any hands alive, be they mortal or angelic. No weapon we have could touch him."

"How could you possibly know this?" Tilgar demanded. "How can you be certain?"

"I am one of the Lords of the Vizjerei," Sarnakyle explained. "For decades I studied the summoning of spirits and demons, and came to lead many of my clan in the council. The demons do not give information easily, and often it is enveloped in lies, but recently we have learned the names of most of the barons of Hell. Their lords, the lesser and Prime Evils, we know only by title. Of all of the barons, Assur is the most feared. We know little about him, save that he is the favored of the Lord of Terror, and that he is enchanted with the Glyph of Invincibility."

"You can summon demons, correct?" Wulfgar asked. "Then can you summon monsters of your own to fight them?"

Sarnakyle shook his head. "My magic is not what it once was. When Bartuc, the Warlord of Blood, attacked the city of Viz-jun, we Vizjerei led the smaller clans into battle, believing that the demons we could summon, combined with the elemental magic of the lesser clans, would easily destroy the army of Bartuc.

"For centuries, we had summoned the creatures with ease, thinking that we could control them. At the siege, we discovered that for all these centuries we had been misled. The demons we summoned turned on us, savaging our own lines. When we attempted to banish them, we could not. If it had not been for the lesser clans, the city would have fallen on the first day. We had ten times the numbers of Bartuc's army, and a third of us died in the siege, most lost not because of the forces of the Warlord, but because of our own summonings.

"After the siege, we of the Vizjerei were shattered. Most of the clan lords, such as I, began to wander, trying to rediscover what was real. I have spent the last two years relearning the elemental magic that saved us, but I am not nearly as powerful as I once thought myself. We cannot fight Assur with demons."

Tyrael nodded. "Lord Sarnakyle is correct. You must rely on your own resources in this fight. If at all possible, however, you must not let Assur take the town. This could be the most important battle ever fought in the mortal realm."

"I don't understand," Siggard said.

"Heaven and Hell have warred for millennia, but only recently have the forces of darkness taken an interest in the mortal realm. The realm used to be protected from the higher and lower planes, but the Prime Evils have used the Vizjerei to weaken that protection. If they can establish a foothold and keep it, then they will have a place that the forces of light cannot besiege, from which they can assault the very gates of Heaven. That is why they sent Assur; with him, they are certain they will be victorious."

"How can we fight him?" Sarnakyle said.

"You can try to kill him," Tyrael said. "Perhaps there is one among you who might succeed. But there is little chance of victory along that path. Instead, you should destroy his army. If you can drive it back, we will win this battle."

Tilgar looked down, his face ashen. "I was once told by a seer that I was touched by fate, but I do not wish to fight Assur in single combat." He raised his head to gaze at Tyrael. "And what happens to us if we lose?"

"An eternity of darkness," Tyrael stated calmly. "And that is why they must not take this place."