The elf called Nysta waited.
Leaning against a tree, she sat with her legs crossed and watched the warlock work. He had his book open across his knees and was murmuring whole passages in long mumbled strings.
The words meant nothing to her.
They were as alien as the runes scorched on the side of the box in her jacket. And almost as ugly.
But they were working. The rising stink of magic burned the air and she could feel the hairs on her neck prickling as the warlock concentrated all his energy on the attempted summoning.
Sweat poured down his face and neck. He'd promised this wasn't going to be as trivial as a few minor gremlins.
This was powerful.
She looked away. Sought to breathe the icy freshness on the wind coming from the north.
Not far away, the Grey Jackets still continued to repair the front gates of Grimwood Creek. Gates they'd no doubt been responsible for breaking. Though they kept a watch on the surrounding area, they didn't seem as concerned as they might have been had they known what the warlock was planning to unleash.
The putrid yellow light of his magic burst from the warlock's forearms and ringed his torso with a wide circle of sickly flame. His body writhed as words of power rushed faster through his teeth.
Sweat poured down his cheeks. His voice was a dry rasp. Whatever power he possessed, it was quickly being drained away.
The elf scrubbed hard at the scar on her cheek. Began to check her knives.
Could feel it would be soon.
Suddenly, his body arched painfully as he snapped a final word.
The echo of that last unholy word seemed to hang in the air, making the world freeze in shocked silence.
His voice twisted into a groan as he slumped forward in exhaustion, face pressing hard against the cold ground. Eerie yellow lightning snaked from his fingers into the earth, drilling deep into the cold moist ground.
Knowing it was over, she patted him gently on the back.
Nodded at his shivering form in satisfaction.
"Good job, 'lock," she said. And looked around the edge of the tree.
Still waiting.
"Did it work?" he gasped.
Pursing her lips, she watched the Grey Jackets as one spoke quickly to others along the wall.
They looked excited, she thought.
Then she grimaced as they pointed in her direction. They'd obviously seen the light shining from the warlock's body shimmering within the trees.
"Nysta? Did it work?"
The elf cocked her head slightly. "Depends, Chukshene. What's your definition of working?"
He shivered violently, drained from the casting of a spell almost too powerful for him. "What's happening?"
The Grey Jackets had dropped what they were doing and rushed to retrieve weapons. They were forming a defensive line in front of the gates.
She gave up counting heads after she reached two dozen.
"Reckon they've downed tools," she said, twisting her mouth into a snarl. "Having a meeting at the moment. Looking to strike soon, I figure. So I hope your spell worked, 'lock, because to me there ain't many other ways we're going to solve this dispute."
"I can't feel it," he said. Groaned as he lifted himself up onto his knees. Looked up toward the sky. "But it's coming. I'm sure of it. I got it right. I know I did."
A Flaw in the Glass seemed to tremble eagerly in her fist as she slowly drew the enchanted blade. "Be good if it hurries up," she growled. "On account of the more over time it takes, the more these fellers look ready to do more than just protest."
And that's when the sky exploded.
"Eureka," the elf spat.
As when he summoned gremlins, the roaring hole ripped into the fabric of the sky and spat out a fireball which screamed through the clouds. She could hear the hiss as it passed overhead, melting the air. And threw herself down as the flaming ball punched into the ground in front of the town with a thunderous explosion.
Several Grey Jackets, too awestruck by the incoming fireball, hadn't moved fast enough. Caught in the blast, their bodies were shredded instantly.
The elf watched impassively as a soldier darted out of the smoke, heading for the snow. Half his body on fire.
He dived into the icy blanker, rolling desperately.
His shrieks cut off as steam billowed.
Her lip curled as more screams rang from inside the town.
Then the smoke began to clear.
The elf stared at what looked like a bright red flag rippling in the wind in the centre of the smoking crater.
For a second, there was silence.
Just a second.
Long enough to gulp a single breath, but not enough to exhale it.
And then it rose from the shattered earth.
A savage beast armored in bone spikes and glittering metallic scale. Vaguely humanoid. Like something built from leftovers.
It lifted itself to its full height, almost as high as the gates themselves, and roared through its misshapen mouth. Muscle. That's all it was.
Muscle and armor.
Two long horns curved out of its head. And, as the demon shook its massive head, those dark horns looked heavy. And desperate to gore flesh.
Even from this distance, the elf could see the size of its teeth and the tusks spearing out from its lower jaw. It lifted a meaty fist and wiped the back of its hand over its wide mouth.
It was ugly.
And mean.
Then it moved.
It advanced slowly, but deliberately.
Cautious at first.
Its red eyes glowed brightly. There was no way of ignoring the demonic aura rippling in waves of pure evil.
A few of the Caspiellan soldiers tried to block its path with the remnants of the gate, but the demon reduced it to splinters with just a few untidy swings of its terrible fists.
Another moment of silence as the Grey Jacket soldiers stood terrified.
The demon paused.
It stared at them.
They stared back.
Then it rolled its shoulders. Pulled a spear off its back. A massive spear with large cruel barbs ripping down its shaft. The thin red banner unfurled, revealing a bright glowing insignia carved into the red cloth.
Terrible to look at, the elf felt her stomach roll in her guts at sight of the demonic sign.
The demon stamped its heavy cloven hoof and roared again. A challenge.
The Grey Jackets fled.
"Isn't it beautiful?" The warlock wiped at his eyes, cooing in delight. He looked satisfied, though he still clutched his side as he shuffled wearily up beside her. The summoning had taken a lot from him. More than anything else he'd cast since meeting her. He looked ready to fall over. "I've always wanted to pull that fucker out of my hat. A war-demon. Hard as the fucking earth. It'll tear that town apart. Nothing will stop it short of a cleric."
"Let's hope there ain't any clerics, then."
"No chance," the warlock smirked. "If there were, they'd have come running as soon as I started casting that. Would've melted us where we were."
"Thanks for the warning."
"Any time," he said breezily. "Now. We going in? We haven't got much time. It only lasts about half an hour."
She nodded and led the way, moving quickly toward the shattered gates. Leaping over the rubble, she angled toward her left. Aiming for the first few shacks.
The warlock struggled to catch up, but made no vocal complaints, for which she was grateful.
Ducking behind a low wall, they looked to where the demon was smashing his way through the town. It tore into the side of a large house, spewing curses in its foul language.
Thick yellow smoke followed, curling around its hooves and winding around its legs like ribbons of acid.
She could smell its stench.
Like rot churning on an ocean of kerosene. And something else. Something animal.
It charged a group of Grey Jackets who'd decided to make a stand. Endured a small flurry of arrows and thrust its spear. Impaled one soldier who shrieked horribly as the barbed spear slid through his body.
Then, with one swing, cut through the soldier's stunned companions and left their bodies in pieces.
Blood showered roaring demon who scooped up a handful of entrails and shoved them into its gaping maw. Swallowed without chewing and moved on.
"Not the nicest of eating habits," the warlock muttered, a little sickly.
"It's the Deadlands." She watched it chase down a few more fleeing soldiers and shrugged. "Fast Food's all the rage out here."