Testament of Body & Soul

Aldrun rubbed his bald head, sweat beading in the summer sun. He disliked guard duty, the work bored him, far from the promise of fighting back bandits and goblins from the town perimeter. As he leant against a post, he found himself uncomfortable in uniform despite Hendertown being welcoming. Most other towns were unfriendly to Half-Orcs like himself. Not being a full-blooded Orc, his tribe saw him as weak, and Human towns saw him as a towering monster. Hendertown was the closest he had to a home, probably because their Captain of the Guard, Halgresh, was also a Half-Orc and loved by the townfolk. Aldrun scowled to himself, unable to form these feelings into words.

Aldrun has passed through many cities and towns, but Hendertown was the first he’s stayed at longer than a cycle of the moons. Hendertown was more of a village than a town despite the name. The Lord Hender lived in a small keep, the only fully stone building around. It functioned as the town hall and as a central point for the village. When Aldrun decided to stay, the Lord gave him a tour down the main road and the looping road, he mentioned that there were just over 270 residents and another 180 at the farms. The numbers meant nothing to Aldrun; he was never good with anything more than the amount on his hands, but the Lord seemed proud of them and knew each person well.

“So?” David asked Aldrun. The human stood nearly two heads shorter than Aldrun. Aldrun looked back at the man with a blank look, having forgotten the original question after his mind had wandered away. David sighed. “Your patrol is done. You see anything I should know about?”

“No.” Aldrun looked back out to the woods and then to above the trees, seeing a hawk fly in a circle, its head tilting to find its prey. Aldrun tried to imagine what it’d be like the hawk again, the freedom and the hunt. Years on the road was hard, not having a home to return to, endlessly roaming until he had found Hendertown under attack mid winter, he aided their defence without a second thought and they offered him a roof, coin, steel, and daily food. All valuable in the cold. Spring was good, he made friends and routine. Now, only early summer, he wanted more. Routine became mundane. The roof and walls felt constricting. With steel and food supplied as part of his work, he had more coin than he had ever had in his life. He had dreamed of finding a home since leaving his tribe, so why did he envy the hawk now he had found it?

David coughed. “So, if there’s nothing to report and your patrol is over, you can, I dunno, go?” The human stared at Aldrun expectantly. Aldrun glanced at David and then back out, having lost track of the hawk behind the tree line, Aldrun pulled his shoulders forward off the post he had just grown comfortable with and patted the man on his shoulder as Aldrun walked home.

Home to Aldrun is what others would call a private barrack. His room of which his was one of two hands worth, was small, or so he was told. Even if small, it was still larger than his space in the family tent, which was barely larger than a bedroll. And larger than his travelling tent, which fit a bigger bedroll. His room could fit a bed, a table, and a foot chest. An older lady, Matilda, who helped Aldrun keep track of his coin, once said he could afford a house for himself with multiple rooms all to himself, Aldrun found the idea confusing, his personal items could all be carried on his back, how was he to fill multiple rooms.

Aldrun settled into the shared living space, not many lived at the barracks, the other guards had families and friends they lived with, the barracks was just a place to store and prepare equipment, and to rest and recover if needed. Simple meals were regularly available, even though simple it was better than food on the road but not quite a tavern feed, either way it was enough for Aldrun. Today there was a young couple, no doubt using the barracks to hide from their parents. The boy was a new hire to the town guard, and the girl was smitten with her rough and tough boyfriend, and he smitten with his cute and giggly girlfriend. Aldrun kept to himself but found them entertaining. Aldrun rarely thought about love on the road, lust was more common but still rare. He thought love was for other people, for those with stable lives. The rest of the day was like the day before and the others before that. Mundane. The young couple ran off, David returned, changed and left, Matilda dropped by to say hello and share gossip. Aldrun retired to his room and dreamt of the hawk.

It was early the next morning when Captain Halgresh woke Aldrun. The Captain was a slightly darker shade of green than Aldrun and had a full head of black curls and showings of a stubble that appeared by midday everyday. Aldrun had been summoned to the keep to meet with Lord Albert Hender. Summons weren’t uncommon but the Lord had called on Aldrun and other guards to occasionally follow up on situations further out of town, sometimes further than the farm lands. This meeting was a bit different, it started with the Lord accidentally bringing up a sore spot in Aldrun.

“Good morning Aldrun! My apologies. I seem to have forgotten your surname and feel like I’ve disrespected you for doing so.” The Lord Albert Hender stood tall for a human, nearly matching Aldrun, his verdant green eyes drew attention away from a scar that ran down the right side of his face, Aldrun had been told he was a soldier before a Lord, and the scar was at least some proof of that.

Out of the corner of his eye, Aldrun saw the Captain make a gesture and a slight grunt to cut the Lord off as the Lord finished his apology. Aldrun stood for a moment in the silence, working out a polite way to answer. Aldrun cleared his throat. “I have none my Lord, I am just Aldrun. My family name was stripped from me when I left my tribe, and it would be a disrespect for me to say their name as I no longer am one of them.”

“Ah.” Ah indeed, Aldrun thought to himself as the Lord continued. “My apologies again. We’ll have to correct that if you wish. The Captain and I have noticed a change in you Aldrun, we both like your company very much but we get the sense you haven’t seen much, action, as you’d like. We can’t offer that but we’d like to offer you a horse, so you can get out and explore further.” Aldrun couldn’t hide the growing smile at Albert’s offer.

A few cycles of the moons had passed and the leaves had yellowed since the meeting with Lord Hender. Both the Lord and Captain Halgresh had arranged for him to have horse riding lessons. Aldrun and the first few horses struggled, but upon training with a horse named Patch, on account of a white patch on his chest on an otherwise completely brown horse. The two formed a fast bond. Patch was far from the fastest but could handle Aldrun’s might even when laden by packs. The gift of Patch was twofold, the first meant that Aldrun could go on patrols further out giving Hendertown a bit more security, and the second was that Aldrun could take Patch and himself out camping in the wilds, escaping the routine and finding more freedom. Even better, the horse seemed to enjoy camping as much as Aldrun did.

Aldrun and Patch were on one such camping trip, they had found a gentle creek in the woods a few hours out of Hendertown, not a building or road in sight. Aldrun had hunted a pair of rabbits the night before, one had been dinner, and the one cooking on the fire was to be his breakfast. As it cooked Aldrun watched the slowly rolling water and the various critters that came out of hiding to drink from it. He had spotted nearly a handful of different birds and a lizard. No rabbits, perhaps they were now afraid of Aldrun unlike the others who were seemingly just cautious. There were even two warring colonies of ants fighting over the scraps of last night’s rabbit.

Removing the breakfast rabbit from the fire he noticed a hawk circling above the treetops, attracted by the smoke and smell of cooking meat. As Aldrun wondered if the hawk would be brave enough to come down to hunt for scraps, the bird did so. It smartly landed on a low branch on the other side of the creek, it tilted its head back and forth, no doubt staying on alert and eyeing up the rabbit Aldrun was now eating. He ripped a chunk off the rabbit’s hind leg, held it in the air to get the hawk’s attention, once acknowledged by the hawk making a call, he threw the piece into the air above the creek. Perfectly in sync with the meat leaving his hand the hawk left the branch, effortlessly swooping the chunk away in it’s talons. Aldrun gave the hawk a nod of approval, it wouldn’t have seen as the hawk disappeared into the canopy.

Aldrun buckled a pack on Patch’s side, patting it closed. He walked to the front of Patch giving him a quick pat on the horse’s nose. “Best we get going. Have patrol this evening.” Patch neighed at Aldrun’s comment. He knew the horse didn’t understand his words, but he found Patch was good at picking up his tone. Aldrun double checked the ashes of the campfire, kicking a bit more dirt onto them. Satisfied, Aldrun looked up to the treetops, the sun hid behind clouds but was almost halfway across the sky. With a content Aldrun mounted Patch, and the pair set off toward Hendertown.

The glare of the sun slightly lower in the sky disrupted Aldrun’s view, he had earlier taken note of something strange as he could still smell smoke he thought was from his campfire. Now he had determined it wasn’t greying clouds but a smoke haze filling the sky. Would have been a large fire, and recent as yesterday evening or during the night to have it lingering. It wasn’t until a courier had caught up to him on the road to town, the courier seemed in a hurry but slowed to Patch’s pace, Aldrun pointed out to the haze. “You see and smell that? Smoke.”

“Give me a second, sir.” The courier adjusted himself as his horse eased up and both caught their breath. He tilted his head as if to show he now had breath to answer Aldrun’s question, it wasn’t until then Aldrun truly saw the man, he was dirty, not of dust and mud but of black ash, Aldrun couldn’t tell if it was ash under his eyes or tiredness, likely both. “Demons attacked Muralal. Yesterday. They’re on the move toward us as we speak. I slipped around to get word out. Have a half a day lead on them.”

Aldrun studied the courier and his horse further before he realised, looking backward back to deeper into the forest and then forward again. “They’re going to Hendertown?”

“First on their path at the least. Not sure where they came from, but Muralal was hit first, the creatures split their forces. Some headed north; our way, most headed west. And a good amount went east toward the crossing to Graycott. You going to Hendertown?” The courier looked over Aldrun, eyes landing on his blade and his leather armour. Aldrun nodded in reply. “Let’s kick up some dirt then.”

The two riders picked up their pace, the gentle rustling of leaves from winds in Aldrun’s ear replaced by rushing air as hooves packed dirt down as they gallop down the road. The courier had shouted over that he won’t stop at Hendertown now that Aldrun bears the news, the courier will continue onto the next villages and towns. Aldrun knew they’d need every hand to aid in defence but would not ask the courier to aid Hendertown, he had already done enough escaping and getting word out. They rode mostly in silence, the fast pace wasn’t kind to talking and both knew they’d needed focus.

True to the courier’s word as they reached Hendertown, Aldrun slowed at the stone keep while he maintained speed through the centre of town, the sun most of the way across the sky, well in advanced for Aldrun’s scheduled evening patrol. A couple guards and the Captain rushed to meet Aldrun, wanting a reason for the commotion. Aldrun swiftly dismounted and spoke before the Captain could get a word out. “Arm everyone. Demons coming from Muralal.” The Captain didn’t need to be told twice he got the message between Aldrun’s breaths and the courier racing through town.

Aldrun was watching the road as the sun broke into view. Hendertown had gathered all their guards and anyone able to hold a blade, bow, axe, or pitchfork. The elderly and children not of age moved into Lord Hender’s keep, locking themselves in. Halgresh had already gone past, checking in on the situation and waiting for the first sign of movement. Aldrun felt a tap on his shoulder, he turned to see Lord Albert Hender, Aldrun had never seen him out of his fine wears, but the chain armour and padding suited the man well. The scar running down his face now looked like a badge of honour rather than a reminder of a past life.

“Good to see you sir.” Aldrun offered his hand forward, and Albert copied, giving a quick but firm shake. “Joining in the defence?”

The pair moved to behind the tanner’s house, one of a few on the outer edge of the village. Guardsmen had climbed onto the roofs for a vantage point while farmers, tree cutters, the butcher, and others Aldrun wasn’t too familiar with stood on the corners or behind the buildings readying themselves.

The Lord Hender rolled his shoulders, imitating a warm-up. “Naturally. I can’t sit by knowing I can aid in protecting my town. However, the Captain insisted I stay with you, said that you’re among our best, and I must admit I’m out of practice.”

“Glad to have you with us. I’ve heard tales of your fights, been wanting to see if they were true.” Aldrun gave a smile, few in Hendertown questioned, ordered or made crude jokes with Lord Hender despite his friendly nature. Halgresh and Aldrun were the only ones that did, whether fear or respect. No one else made such attempts, there was something in that, that made Albert respect and grow a bond with the two Half-Orcs.

Aldrun continued, pulling the Lord around the corner slightly to point down the road and treeline. “The demons are most likely to come down the road or near it, direct from Muralal. We have most of the defence stationed and ready this side but others watching covering other ways.”

“Very good, how about-” Lord Hender was cut off as a bolt of fire hurtled across the field into the stone outside of a home’s fireplace, instantly fizzling out. Shortly followed by screeching from the treeline as red and grey figures varying from flying rodent-sized creatures to six-legged horse-like beings with fire-red skin.

“That wasn’t nice. My Lord, they burnt that stone.” Aldrun drew his sword and waited at the corner of the tanner’s home, trusting in the bowmen to thin the charging horde. The town wasn’t large enough to justify investing resources in a perimeter wall and gate. It was going to be chaos once the foe reached the first buildings the defence was set up in and around.

Albert laughed. “They’re going to do more than burn a stone.”

“As long as you don’t get burnt. Halgresh may kill me.”

“Leave Halgresh to me. Any injuries will be my own fault.”

“Ready, Lord?” Aldrun readied his sword, seeing the demons almost upon them, a few larger targets slowed or dropped by arrows, leaving the nimble imps as the first wave into melee.

“Aldrun. I’ve been itching to see combat again.” The pair rushed around the corner, Aldrun cutting the first of the rodent-sized imps in half like there was nothing in the way. By the time Albert had slain one, he saw another two laying beside Aldrun. Glancing off to his side, he saw Captain Halgresh’s blade make contact with the demons.

The Hendertown defence held well against the small but many imps, it faltered when the larger demons reached the outer buildings. They caught a few on the corners but the demons quickly adjusted and slew the butcher before Aldrun could reach. Albert was holding his ground, Aldrun could see the rust in Albert’s movements, he’s a good fighter but will tire quickly he thought to himself. His mind in two places as he drove the point of his blade through the back of the butcher’s killer.

“Little help!” the Lord’s voice rang in Aldrun’s ear, spinning to see the Lord’s sword locked with a demon’s. Aldrun rushed over as David peeked over the awning, loosing an arrow from above into the demon’s shoulder. Albert pushed the demon back toward Aldrun. Aldrun swung his blade, cutting through the red meat of its neck. The demon fell limp. Aldrun shot a thumbs up and nodded to David just before David pulled back from the awning, knocking another arrow.

“Good?” Aldrun asked the Albert. No time for pleasantries either you’re in the fight or out.

“Good.” The Lord stretched his right arm. He couldn’t hide his strain but if he said he’s good, he’s good.

Aldrun glimpsed a large fiend bounding across the outer edge of town toward the keep. “Keep up.” Aldrun pushed off, giving chase, the Lord following closely behind, slower than Aldrun but away from the main fighting force. It was also Aldrun’s hope that the Lord would breathe easier with more time between bouts. Aldrun intercepted the fiend as they both reached the square in front of the keep. It released a low growl, blood dripping from its mouth onto matted fur paws, it was a strange beast, like if one stretched a wolf in the wrong directions. The fiend bound toward Aldrun, leaping over him, swinging a paw toward Aldrun’s head, narrowly missing. The two stared each other down.

“I’m here, where’s the beast?” Albert called out. Aldrun glanced away for a moment, to the Lord and back to see the square empty. He didn’t move, just his eyes darting around the square for any sign. He spotted it, drops of blood inching toward the Lord Hender.

“It’s invisible.” Pushing off again Aldrun rushed toward Albert. Albert looked to where Aldrun was looking to see a trail of blood moving toward him, the Lord rose his sword just in time to feel something crash into him, but the weight was lifted just as quickly as Aldrun tackled the unseen force off of him.

Wrestling with an invisible fiend was not something Aldrun had done before, and it proved difficult. Trying to determine where the dangerous parts of the creature were without seeing them. He felt a claw pierce the hard leather chest piece. Sword still in hand, Aldrun tried cutting at the beast. Both let out growls of pain. He hadn’t had the time to look toward Albert, he had to trust the chain and padding was enough. The sword glided over the same spot, if it howled it hurt. He was right the fiend broke itself free, blood gushing onto the stone. Aldrun swung but no connection.

Aldrun put himself between the blood pool and the Lord but not letting Albert distract him again, not even to check if he’s alive. He was right, with a fake jerk of his head to the side but eyes remaining locked, the trail raced forward. His sword thrust forward to meet the heavy force, dropping Aldrun to the ground, his sword disappearing into air. He plunged it deeper, only able to see his hand around the hilt. The force pulled itself off. The Fiend visible again, with a large gash across its back, and its front left shoulder limping with a stab wound. Aldrun grinned, proud of himself.

Taking the initiative, Aldrun rushed the wounded fiend but fumbled expecting the beast to go high again. The fiend darted to the side grabbing Aldrun’s left leg in it’s mouth. Ripping Aldrun onto his back again, tired of the constant pulling down and getting up, Aldrun kicked with his right into the beast’s shoulder, it held tight. Shouting in anger and pain he pulled his sword above his head and swung it down atop the beast’s head. The force crushing the teeth further into Aldrun’s leg, pressure eased shortly after. The fiend was dead. Aldrun closed his eyes catching a moment to himself. He felt the fiend move again, reactively Aldrun’s eyes shot open, sword ready to swing again. Instead he saw the Lord Albert Hender attempting to remove the corpse from Aldrun’s left leg.

“Good?” Albert asked Aldrun.

Aldrun flexed his leg, painful but still bending at the knee. “Will be in a minute.” He sat up, making sure his other limbs still worked. “Yourself?”

“Just a scratch and a bumped head.”

“My Lord, Sir.” The newest guard, the young lover, Aldrun had learnt was Wilfred ran into the square. “Captain and others are saying the demons are circling around Hendertown, going past I mean, Lord. Some stragglers, but we’ll get them.”

The boy was eager but capable. Aldrun looked to Lord Hender, hearing that the demons were moving on was a relief but a worry that this would not be over, these were just scouting parties. Albert spoke to Wilfred. “Good work. Have the guard stay out, bring injured here, or if the Captain has other orders, I trust his judgement.” Wilfred nodded and ran back toward where he had come from. As the fire in Aldrun’s blood tempered, the reality of the damage to his leg became apparent. He wouldn’t be able to put weight on it for a few days at least.

Days passed as Aldrun was confined to his barrack and the common area, unable to get far without help. Many keep telling him he did a good job taking down the fiend by himself, no other fiends of its size or ferocity had tried attacking Hendertown since. Only the occasional group of imps or lone demons scouting and testing their defences. Reports further out weren’t so good, larger towns were getting hit hard and stripped of anything the demons deemed useful, mostly raw metals or melted back into metal. Hendertown was lucky primarily farms and foods rather than more valuable materials.

Aldrun felt ill from the confining walls, wanting to be outside helping the defence of Hendertown. Matilda kept him company at least, dropping by in the mornings and evenings, making sure Aldrun’s wound was clean and he had eaten. The days stretched on. Aldrun stretched his leg. Feeling better every day, he could walk on it for short distances without pain, and could push through if needed. Matilda told him to slow down, but that wasn’t Aldrun’s style, stopping meant defeat. She has caught Aldrun a few times practicing maneuvers and stances. There was a war with demons, and he was sitting around.

He lost track of the days, one morning Matilda had come in to find Aldrun eating breakfast. “Against my advice, the Lord, and Captain would like to see you Aldrun. I told them if you can reach the keep your their problem.” She seemed off, not her usual light self. She left before Aldrun could ask questions, not that he had any to ask. Aldrun finished his breakfast of bread and eggs. Donned his leathers and sword to prove to himself more than anyone else he was ready for whatever the Lord, and Captain had for him.

Reaching the Hender keep, Aldrun entered the large open doorway, he had a slight limp but nothing he couldn’t overcome with more stretches and training. Captain Halgresh was first to spot Aldrun’s entrance and announced him to the keep’s guests, which were the Lord, his new advisor, and a holy man.

“Aldrun! Welcome! Good to see you out and about. Lord Hender and I were just talking about you.”

Albert turned to Halgresh, then to Aldrun. “Here’s my saviour, you did well. Thank you.”

Step by step, Aldrun remained silent until reaching talking distance rather than calling out across the hall. “Good to see you’re well my Lord. You had summoned me?”

“Yes, yes, so I did. In this time of need I call upon you-”

Aldrun cut the Lord off. “I am ready and able to defend Hendertown.”

Albert cleared his throat and shuffled in place slightly. “That’s not what we had in mind. We are relinquishing you from our guard.” Aldrun rose an eye brow at the Lord’s statement, he didn’t know what relinquishing meant but tone didn’t make it sound pleasant.

“He means you’re no longer one of my guardsmen.” Captain Halgresh filled in as he saw Aldrun’s look.

To Aldrun the space between Halgresh talking and his mouth opening to argue against the command felt like an age. “Meaning? You want me to sit by and do nothing?” Aldrun protested, taking up a defensive stance.

Albert continues. “Not exactly my friend, we have decided that you’re better suited further out, we can hold ourselves for now, and we need people on the attack. We need you on the attack. You’ll always have a home in Hendertown.”

“I accept.” Aldrun relaxed his stance, taking on a proud stature. “I can head out right away my Lord.”

“I’m sure you can, but I urge you to wait for a moment longer, I wish you to take Patch into your full care, and to bestow upon you, your very own title.” Lord Albert Hender stepped forward, placed his right hand upon Aldrun’s chest before continuing. “From now on you shall be known as Aldrun Slayer of Fiends.”

Aldrun smiled, and met the Lord’s eyes who gave a nod, looking over to Captain Halgesh, he too gave a nod to Aldrun. “Are you serious?”

“Very.” The Lord lifted his hand. “I don’t have a family name to give you, I hope that changes when you return after the war.”

“Aldrun Slayer of Fiends” He muttered his name to himself before meeting the Lord’s eyes again. “As long as I can fight I shall carry the title proudly, it is greater than any family name.”

Halgresh let out a hearty laugh, followed by Aldrun, and then the Lord with a more polite chuckle as the advisor and holy man looked at the trio with confused looks on their faces. Then men slowed their laughs still smiling at each other. Aldrun held his hand forward and Lord Albert Hender shook it firmly.

“You’re a good man Aldrun, I wish for you to return when this is all over and tell us all the mighty tales you are sure to collect.”

As Albert released the handshake, Halgresh offered his forward. Aldrun declined, instead pulling the half-orc into a hug. The two firmly patted each other on the back before releasing each other and giving a nod. Aldrun huffed out his nose, recomposing himself in front of the men. Giving a final nod, Aldrun turned and walked out of Hender keep. Stepping outside, a slight haze filled the sky high above, the sun had no trouble piercing it as it warmed the air. Aldrun returned to his barrack and slung his pack onto his back. His minimal gear always at the ready to go at a moment’s notice. Next was Patch, when Aldrun arrived the horse got excited, likely eager to get out of the stables and pastures. Aldrun was quickly proven right as soon as the pair hit the edge of Hendertown Patch broke into a sprint toward Muralal, if there were survivors Aldrun hoped they’d know where best to find demons and fiends. Aldrun, Slayer of Fiends, felt free as a hawk and ready to hunt.

The war with the demons stretched through autumn, winter, and into spring. The demonic forces of the Nine Hells was unrelenting, they’d be pushed out of one region and pop up in another. Lands were scorched and dry, soot had dimmed the skies for months. Aldrun’s once brown leather armour now stained by black ash had been slowly falling apart. Patch’s namesake likewise was hidden beneath layers. Drinkable water was hard enough to come by let alone enough to wash in. Aldrun spared enough to clean wounds and faces, rationing the rest as needed.

Some days like today it was easier to move and hunt at night, the smallest glow of a fire stood out in the blackened landscape. Patch has spotted it first his head locked in one direction to their left, Aldrun narrowed in see a flame whipping back and forth near a farmstead, bucking Patch on the two rode toward the light, as they approached he heard the call of a woman, shouting at something in the field to get back, Aldrun spurred Patch on picking up their pace, racing toward the woman he spied a small boy by her side trying to pull her toward the porch of the farmstead. The two figures looked toward Aldrun and Patch, he couldn’t see their faces clearly but their opinion on an Orc and horse moving with speed was not of Aldrun’s concern in the moment.

Aldrun saw his targets, first two and then a third hellhound emerged, their short black fur blending in with the surrounds but the fire burning in their eyes and behind their snarling teeth was unmistakable. Patch didn’t slow as they approached. Sword already drawn from instinct. With pure focus Aldrun threw himself from Patch’s back toward the hounds. He rolled forward with the momentum from Patch, as he came out of the roll he twisted his blade up and through a hound’s neck, it’s flammable blood coating the steel.

“Back!” Aldrun commanded. Neither the woman, the boy, nor the hounds knew who he was talking to, but all listened.

The hellhounds changed their focus to Aldrun. The woman and boy would be easy pickings but this new figure wouldn’t let them have a quick meal. Aldrun readied himself as they all sized up with foes. The beheaded body twitched by Aldrun’s side, not knowing it was already dead. The two remaining hounds split, one to his left, other to his right. Hell fought dirty but so did Aldrun in times like these, he nodded into the darkness and with the same speed and force Patch emerged from the dark barreling the over the hound to his right. Taking his chance Aldrun rushed the one on his left, he slashed its side open, blood dripped like a leaking oil lamp. The hound retaliated by digging its front paws into Aldrun’s hip, reaching and biting into Aldrun’s left arm. The leather vambrace holding the teeth and heat back. Throwing his arm out the hound flew a short distance.

Patch stamped the other hound into the ground before it skittered out from beneath the horse’s hooves into the dark. Patch neighed triumphantly, but Aldrun knew it’d be back. Focus returned to his hound. Its eyes flared as it leaped to Aldrun. He rose his sword with his right, grabbing the end of the blade with his left to protect his neck and catch the hound’s mouth. Aldrun pushed the hound away, landing near the woman now on the porch. The hound switched prey.

As Aldrun rushed forward toward the hound, the woman ran for the door of the stead. The hound gave chase but stopped in its tracks, it wasn’t until Aldrun had a better angle that he saw the boy, he held a sword much too large and heavy for his size. The boy caught the hound off guard as it chased and ran into the boy’s blade, the steel sunk into the hound’s mouth, down its throat. The beast was alive but could no longer bite. Aldrun reached it as the hound backed up in confusion and pain, flame growing from its jaw. Aldrun grabbed the hound’s head from behind. With a quick twist and the hellhound fell limp.

Aldrun looked up to meet the eye’s of the boy then the woman. Both were horrified. He wasn’t sure what about this evening scared them most, but in this moment they feared him. Since winter, people had referred to Aldrun not by his name but simply his title, Slayer of Fiends. He could feel his own name being lost to the slayer. A name loved and feared by many, he had overheard someone in the last town say. ‘I’m glad he’s on our side.’ He didn’t understand what they meant. But here, lit by torchlight and the last light of a set sun, covered in blood and soot, standing over the corpse of a hound from the hells with fury in his eyes, he probably looked just as demonic as the creatures he hunted.

He turned and stepped off the porch. Picking up his discarded sword, he looked away from the woman and boy, out at the field. He heard the distinct infernal howl of hounds. Aldrun had never thought of it before the demon invasion, turns out animals and creatures pick up and have their own accents just like people do.

“Wait.” The woman said. “Please stay. Just tonight, in case they return.”

Patch approached Aldrun and he pat horse on the side of its lower jaw, in praise of Patch’s help of the dismount and then scaring one hellhound away. Aldrun contemplated the woman’s request for a minute, the silence growing between all of them, he gave Patch a nod, letting him know he could rest a moment. Aldrun turned back around to the woman, the boy looking down at the hound and their joint effort. She looked tired and afraid, like many as of late. He nodded toward the woman, confirming he’ll stay. He took another moment before speaking. “Aldrun, Slayer of Fiends.”

“I’m Tamara, and this is Bertie.” She placed a hand on Bertie’s back, the boy looked between his mother and Aldrun, trying to read the situation. Tamara looked down to the hound, then to Bertie, then Aldrun. “I’ll run a bath if you’d like?”

Aldrun followed Tamara’s eyes down to the hound, “That, that sounds good. I’ll get this away. Bertie right? Hold on to your sword.” The boy grabbed the pommel of the sword still embedded in the hellhound, Aldrun began pulling the hind legs off the porch. A gurgle made Tamara retreat into the stead.

“It’s not my sword, it’s my dad’s. Do you know my dad?” Aldrun shook his head at the boy’s question. The end of the sword thudded onto the wood porch as it left the hound’s mouth. It looked as if someone had left it atop a campfire.

“I’ll be back. Wait there.” Aldrun said as he dragged the body to the beheaded one, returning to Bertie. “Where is your dad?”

“He left a few weeks ago, to find a Sword of Greyhawk. He hasn’t returned.”

“Well let’s clean this sword, keep it healthy for him.” Aldrun fetched his pack from Patch and sat on the porch with the boy, he hand the boy a rag and used another to clean his own sword. Bertie copied Aldrun’s movements in wiping down the steel. Bertie did a well enough job of cleaning the sword, Aldrun took over when he couldn’t get the charred parts that clung onto the steel. He mulled over what the boy had mentioned, a Sword of Greyhawk, the name wasn’t familiar but he was intrigued. “He went to find a sword? What’s so special about it?”

“I dunno, dad said that it was one of nine forged by a goddess and was really strong.”

“Did he say where it was?”

Tamara interrupted their conversation. “In a ruined keep northwest of here. A few days’ travel. Bertie sweetie get ready for bed.” She leant against the doorframe of the stead giving room for the reluctant child to get passed. Once Bertie was out of earshot Tamara continued in a hushed tone. “He should have returned four days ago. Your bath is ready and will have a bed shortly.” As Aldrun stood and stepped toward Tamara, she blocked the way in. “You’ve already saved me and my boy, but if you can save my Simeon, or at least find” Tamara trailed off, unable to finish the thought, let alone the sentence.

“I’ll do my best.” With Aldrun’s reply, Tamara allowed him in.

After pointing the way to the bath, Tamara called after Aldrun. “He left behind a chain shirt, no use to us, you can have it.”

“Thank you.”

The water was cool. For the first time in longer than Aldrun would admit, he allowed himself to fully relax. His whole body felt lighter without the thick leathers and sword constantly on his person. It was the first time he had gotten fully undressed since leaving Hendertown. He felt vulnerable yet safe at the same time. He scrubbed himself clean, uncovering moles, scars, and features he had forgotten about, including a small constellation on his left leg from the beast that granted him his title. Aldrun held his breath and submersed himself under the water. He knew it already, Simeon was dead, Tamara knew it too but couldn’t admit it. The Sword of Greyhawk, felt like a calling rather than the wandering and hunting of the past months. He couldn’t hold it any longer. His head breached the surface and leant against the edge of the bathtub, eyes closed, he could fall asleep right there and then. Aldrun wouldn’t feel this free again in his mortal life.

Aldrun had set off before Tamara or Bertie woke. The chain shirt fit a little tighter than he’d like, but it was a better option than the cracking leather. Tamara also left metal vambraces and shin guards with the shirt, all strapping easily. A needed change that felt heavy, a few days into the journey toward the ruined keep, he could already feel himself getting used to the added weight and so did Patch. Landscapes felt haunting yet beautiful, with spring brought rains, muddying the ash, char, and dirt. Out of the muck grew vibrant green, a welcome change from the black and white of winter.

He spotted it or what he hoped was it. A keep built into the side of a hill, stone, and wooden ruins surrounded it. Watching for any signs of life in the surrounds and satisfied spotting none. Patch and Aldrun moved into closer. As the pair rounded a building Aldrun guessed used to be a smithy they came into view of a courtyard in front of the keep. A pile of rotting corpses greeted them, a few horses and many humanoids, mostly human but demons included among them, all melting into each other. Spikes jutted out from the pile, holding the macabre piece together. It smelt putrid, the whole world did, something Aldrun hadn’t noticed since after the bath.

As Aldrun got a better view, he got the answer to the melting bodies. A second pile of just bones. Mix of sizes from large horse leg bones to small ones that’d fit in someone’s pet dog. All in varying states, from red freshly ripped from muscle to pale and clean. The scene was eerily still, Aldrun hadn’t seen something like this before, but corpses attracted scavengers. There were no birds, rats, or wild dogs. He dismounted Patch, checking his sword holster on his side before moving in for a closer look. There weren’t even ants to be seen, he wondered what sort of demon had done this work and for what reason. Aldrun signalled to Patch to move back to the edge of ruins and open pasture as he slowly pushed toward the closed doors of the keep.

Reaching the keep doors, he tested them by pushing slightly and confirmed that they were unlocked, Aldrun glimpsed the dark interior before hearing the knocking of bones shifting and falling behind him. Without moving his body from its current position, he turned his head over his shoulder to look back. A figure was emerging from the pile, it appeared both to be made of bone and used it as additional armour. The added parts distinct from its natural parts that had spiny growths, its head resembled more closely a prickly fruit than a normal skull. Aldrun twisted the rest of his body around to face the fiend he would later come to learn is called a bone devil. They studied each other, Aldrun taking note that its right arm, which had no hand in its place, extended into a cruel looking bone blade or, more accurately described as a double edged saw the length of a sword. The two locked eyes, or at least Aldrun thought so, seeing a black glisten sunken deep into its eye sockets.

Unsure of the new foe, Aldrun allowed it to make the first move, hoping to learn something from its movements. The bone devil paced toward Aldrun, he held his ground until the devil lunged at him, the bone whistling through the air. Aldrun dodged just in time, misjudging the devil’s speed. The bone saw met the wooden door, shredding splinters shot out. Aldrun followed though slashing his blade at the devil’s side, blade gliding off the bone, leaving only a scratch. The fiend showed no sign that it felt anything at all. Spinning out and away, Aldrun took up an agile stance.

The bone devil made a bone creaking noise and gestured toward Aldrun. He had no hope of understanding the creature’s attempt to communicate or taunt. “Got no tongue?” Aldrun spat back, not sure that it would understand either. Cracking echoed as it tilted its head at Aldrun before lunging forward again. This time Aldrun swung his blade up to meet the devil’s, briefly locking the two together closely. That’s where he spotted it, dark red flesh flexing underneath the bone armour. Aldrun tried pushing the devil back but the devil didn’t move resulting in Aldrun pushing himself away from it.

It took Aldrun’s surprise of its stability to make another saw at half-orc. Grinding and cutting a gouge into the metal vambrace on Aldrun’s left arm. Aldrun swung hard into the devil’s chest. A sickening bone crunching filled the air. If it were a mortal being, they’d likely have ribs crushing their lungs but the devil was seemingly unphased as its left arm smashed Aldrun, sending him backward to the flesh pile. The stench of rotting meat assaulted Aldrun as he forced himself off the pile, using a spike as leverage.

Aldrun ducked out of the way as the bone devil reached him before he could ready a defence. He backed up giving the two some space. Cracked and shattered bone fell in pieces from its chest, Aldrun could see more of the dark muscle tensing and easing as the devil moved. That was its weakness. Aldrun just had to get past the bone, surely then he could hurt and kill it. Taking the charge Aldrun raised his sword, aiming into the opening. Too obvious. The bone devil shifted letting Aldrun’s blade glance off a shoulder blade mounted on its front. The bone devil made another creaking sound and what Aldrun could only assume was a laugh as it didn’t even humour a follow through attack against Aldrun.

Next to the pile of skin and flesh again, Aldrun gripped one spike with his left, pulling it free. The corpse of a woman sagged and slid down to the ground. He dropped his sword, the spike quickly shifting hands, he readied it toward the devil. It cocked its head again and held its arms out, making the same taunting sound once again. As soon as Aldrun started moving toward the devil, it leaned forward to strike. Aldrun caught it off guard by throwing the spike before reaching into melee with it. The spike flew true into the opening in the chest of the bone devil making it stumble back in pain. Reaching the devil, Aldrun grabbed and drove the spike deeper and through the creature, pushing it back into the wooden door, pinning it to the door as it swung open.

Aldrun stumbled through the swinging door, quickly catching himself as he saw the devil struggling to free itself. Dashing behind the door and the bone devil, Aldrun grabbed the upper portion of its blade arm and twisted it around the edge of the door. With might and determination, the bone first creaked and then snapped with a sound Aldrun could never get used to. The devil let out a shrill, bone chilling cry. With it literally disarmed, Aldrun ran back out of the keep entrance, giving it a wide berth to be safe. By the time Aldrun reached his blade and was running back to finish the devil it had almost freed itself from the spike. The bone devil saw defeat as Aldrun reached it. The horrific creature didn’t struggle anymore, it bowed its head to Aldrun then looked up and passed him. Aldrun didn’t humour its sense of honour before driving his blade into and up the bone devil’s chest. He held it for a moment before twisting his sword. The creature went limp. Aldrun withdrew his blade.

With the demon dealt with, Aldrun lit a torch, delving deeper into the windowless keep built into the side of the hill. The structure of the keep was standing strong, but every room and hallway he passed through had been raided, with overturned furniture and contents of closets and desks discarded to the floor. A musky smell filled the entire keep, it was unpleasant but better than the rot awaiting his return outside. The keep reminded him of Hender keep, he wondered what state the town was in without him. Aldrun hadn’t returned since he left seasons ago. Do they think of Aldrun? Has word of the Slayer of Fiends travelled back to them? The slayer pushed the thoughts away. The world was on fire, and he had no time to worry about the quiet life anymore.

Like the many before it the door creaked as Aldrun pushed it open, this time he heard movement on the other side, something in a frantic shuffle as if caught by surprise, Aldrun didn’t blame whatever it was, if places were swapped Aldrun would be startled too. Aldrun made his intentions clear. “Speak if you understand me.” Aldrun dragged his sword on the metal of the door handle, hoping to make whoever or whatever was inside aware he had steel ready.

A timid masculine voice bounced out of the room. “Yes, I do. Who goes there? Is the bone devil gone?”

“Bone devil? The monstrosity outside? I killed it.”

“Well sir, if you killed it I’m no threat to you.”

“If you’re armed throw it down. I’m coming in.”

The clash of steel rang out against the stone tile. Aldrun pushed the door open with his torch hand, blade at the ready in the other. With the door fully open he saw a man in armour padding standing at the back wall. His eyes appeared to be bloodshot, the chest of the padding soaked red. Steel plate armour rest on a table beside the man, a hole in the chest piece matching the location of the stain on the padding. Looking to the ground between them, he saw a brilliant elven sword. It almost appeared that a topaz inlaid into the handle and another affixed to its pommel was absorbing the torch light and shooting it back out, creating a mesmerising display in Aldrun’s eye. He shook himself from the view and back to the man.

The man spoke as Aldrun took in the information. “Please, I’m no threat.”

“You keep saying that.” Aldrun pointed his sword toward the chest plate then to the man’s chest. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Yes, no, I was hurt, I’m good now, better than ever, really.”

“Really?” Aldrun studied the man’s face. He was just as good at reading faces as he was at reading books, meaning not at all, but he didn’t need to know how to read to see the man was hiding something. “What’s your name?”

“Simeon, sir.”

Aldrun huffed to himself. “Really? Your wife and child happen to be Tamara and Bertie?”

He caught the man claiming to be Simeon off guard. “Yes, how do you know them? Are they all right?”

“Last I saw them, yes. She asked me to find you.”

He smiled, slightly wider than Aldrun thought possible. “That’s brilliant news, I can reunite with them.” He stepped forward but halted as Aldrun’s sword remained at the ready.

“How did you survive that wound?”

His head looked down at the large red stain on the thick padding. “Oh this? Really, looks worse than it was.”

“I’ve seen stronger men die of lesser wounds.” Aldrun remained at the ready. Raising his torch to get a better look at the man’s face, his eyes didn’t reflect or shine in the flickering torchlight.

The man tilted his head, still with an unnatural smile. “I just want to see my family.”

“I’m sure you do, and you can when you tell me what happened.”

The man stepped forward again, kneeling to pick up the brilliant sword. “I made a deal so I could see them one last time. I have to see them.”

“Put the sword down.” Aldrun commanded, raising his voice, it echoed against the stone. “What deal?”

Aldrun realised the man hadn’t blinked since they had made eye contact, grip firm around the sword’s handle. “The devils aren’t so bad. They promised me that if I gave them my soul, my eyes would see my family again.”

“Simeon is dead.” Concluded Aldrun.

“And now his body will reunite the family.” The devil wearing Simeon’s face said. “And as promised, his eyes will see them. One. Last. Time.” Simeon’s body readied the topaz pommel sword, still glowing brightly.

“Leave his body. You have one chance.” Aldrun dropped the torch and readied himself. This was going to be a quick fight, but one he didn’t want to fight.

“And not fulfil the promise that Simeon gave his soul for? Not how we work.” Simeon’s body pushed off toward Aldrun, still smiling, still unblinking.

Aldrun deflected easily and cut into the body’s left arm, and using the momentum to position himself and stab into its back, withdrawing his sword, the body of Simeon stood in the doorway turning back to Aldrun, the body tilted his head again to the side. It laughed. Aldrun sighed to himself. What was it with foes not feeling pain that annoyed Aldrun greatly? He didn’t have time to answer, he held his ground as the body moved and swung at Aldrun. Their blades clashed, and he could feel his sword slip as the sword that Simeon’s body wield felt like it moved on its own shifting an advantage to the body. Aldrun was having none of it. This was to be a quick fight, not one against a devil inhabiting a dead man with a magic sword.

Aldrun used his might to push the body back and push himself forward, with a heft he swung and slashed at the body’s neck, not cutting all the way through. The head was now permanently tilted and resting on the body’s right shoulder. “Really? It’s going to be like that?” Aldrun swung again in the body’s confusion, freeing the head from the body. The pair stood silently in the room for a beat, the body unmoving but still standing, the head on the ground tried speaking but nothing came out.

While Aldrun was distracted by the head’s attempt at talking, the body swung the topaz laden sword, slashing into Aldrun’s left shoulder. Aldrun shouted in pain and frustration. He kicked the head away, thankfully landing with the face pointing away from the two bodies. Simeon’s body began flailing, trying to find Aldrun. Aldrun backed up to assess his shoulder and the situation. His shoulder was bleeding heavily but still had movement, his focus returned to the flailing body, clearly normal methods of killing won’t work.

The body left endless openings as it couldn’t see what it was fighting. Aldrun tried to balance making quick work of the body so he could wrap his shoulder, and careful attacks to avoid further pain. After a handful of slashings, the body’s limbs were free from the torso, each still writhing as if it had any chance to harm Aldrun further. Stepping on Simeon’s right forearm, he freed the sword from its grasp and took it into his own.

Exiting the room and with some effort, he righted a bench in the hall outside the room that contained Simeon’s body parts. He pulled back layers of his armour to find the elven topaz blade had sliced through the chain shirt, padding, and a decent depth into his flesh. Using the cleanest rag on him he gritted his teeth and packed the cut and bound it. He took a moment to collect himself, his mind wondering who would flip a bench in a hallway, and why? His thoughts returned to Simeon. The man was dead, but the devil was determined on fulfilling the promise for now at least, Aldrun’s thoughts came to the realisation he is the one who would flip a bench, the why? To stop or at least slow the possessed body from leaving.

After barricading the doorway, Aldrun made his way back outside of the keep past the bone devil, still limp and pinned to the outer door. The rotting smell assaulting his senses again, he looked to his new sword. He didn’t know what a Sword of Greyhawk looked like, but this felt like it. He found Patch patiently waiting for his return, he was glad Patch had faith in him. Aldrun mounted Patch, and the pair began their ride to continue the war against the demons. As they did Aldrun spotted the first animal other than Patch he had seen all day, a hawk flying high above. Aldrun smiled and patted Patch with his left hand, wincing as his shoulder reminded him.

Seasons passed Aldrun by, spring, summer, and autumn. Demons and their beasts stopped appearing at the start of winter. Victory was called shortly after, but the Slayer of Fiends was determined to end the scattered remains of the devil armies. It wasn’t until spring began transitioning into summer when his eyes saw Hendertown in the two years. It looked different but not unfamiliar, the buildings were the same but there were two watch towers, one on either end of the stretched town. A half height stone wall also divided the town from the farm lands. Aldrun was glad to see Hendertown. The town wasn’t the only one that had changed, he knew he had, not just physically. He had gained the freedom he desired before the war began but he couldn’t help but feel he lost something in his years away from Hendertown. He hoped that the people of Hendertown hadn’t changed as much as he had.

As Aldrun and Patch reached closer to one of the watch towers and the wall, he noted that there was no gate just a gap in the wall. A voice called out from the top of the watch tower, familiar but deeper than he remembered. “By Aerith! Is that you Aldrun?” The sun shone in Aldrun’s eyes almost burning, unable to make out any details in the silhouetted figured Aldrun nodded in reply. As Patch trotted toward the stone wall and tower, Aldrun saw the figure hastily climb down the ladder, the trio meeting at the base of the tower. It was the young and eager lover boy.

William? Fredrick? No, Wilfred. “Wilfred?” The young man looked like he had aged many more years than had passed, but so did everyone. Aldrun dismounted Patch, landing next to him, Aldrun offered his hand forward.

“Indeed, a bit different from the recruit you last knew.” Wilfred offered his opposite hand forward. Aldrun shot a confused look and Wilfred raised his right arm, showing a stump where his hand would be. “A scar from the war, a good story though. I’m a good fighter with my left.”

“You’ll have to catch me up on what’s happened.” Aldrun shook Wilfred’s hand with his left. “First I’d like to see Lord Hender or Captain Halgresh, if they’re?” He trailed off, leaving the implication hanging.

“Of course, both are well, the Lord is home but the Captain is out escorting a caravan. They’ll be glad to see you, we all will.” Wilfred cocked his head into town. “Go on. No running off until tales are shared though.”

Aldrun smiled and nodded to Wilfred. He didn’t worry about remounting Patch, Patch deserved the weight off his back for a lifetime after going through a war with fiends against demons. The horse neighed and pointed his head toward the stables and pasture, Aldrun gave an approving nod, over their time together they’d become equals, respecting each other’s wishes. Sometimes Aldrun thought Patch was smarter than he was, he trusted Patch would be around when it was time to go again. The two parted ways, Patch to the stables, Aldrun to the keep.

Reaching the town square outside the keep, he saw familiar faces going about their day, a strangeness washed over him as he tried noting who he didn’t see. Were they in another part of Hendertown, gone elsewhere, or did they die during the war? Aldrun was about to find out as he saw the keep doors held open as they always were, some townsfolk double checked their eyes seeing him, other waved which Aldrun returned, most paid no mind to Aldrun like they had when he was a guard. Entering the keep itself the Lord Albert Hender was mid bite of his lunch when he saw Aldrun enter with a smirk on his face as the two made eye contact.

Albert throwing title and dignity aside, stood up opening his arms out in excitement, almost hitting a maid, he apologised profusely before turning back to Aldrun. “Do my eyes deceive me? Aldrun, Slayer of Fiends, hero of Hendertown, nay, of our beautiful nation! Get over here, share in a plate!” Albert ushered Aldrun over with one hand and signalled for another meal to be brought out for him with his other.

Aldrun and Albert embraced in a hug. As they released, they looked each other up and down, taking in the person in front of them. Trying to remember what they had looked like the last time they saw each other and what had changed. Aldrun found an odd comfort in that since the war people were willing to help each other and like the Lord and himself now be more open with old friends. The Lord had grown a short beard in the time Aldrun was away, otherwise he was just the same, exhausted the same as everyone else, but still recognisably the Lord Albert Hender. The Lord took his seat and pointed to the empty chair next to him for Aldrun to sit. Aldrun did.

“I’m happy to see Hendertown survived. There were bigger towns that I passed through burnt down to stone foundations.” Aldrun said, showing a look of relief as he leant against the backrest of the chair, which creaked slightly as he did.

“Thankfully, we’re off the main roads so didn’t attract too much attention. We lost good people Aldrun, but we gained refugees. We struggled but survived.” The Lord’s stare was one Aldrun had come to know well, people grew up not knowing death and war and were suddenly thrust into it. Makes and breaks people. Albert was strong, but Aldrun could see cracks in the man. “Enough about our humble town, I want to hear your tales, we heard whispers of the Slayer of Fiends striking fear into the devils.”

Aldrun recounted his adventures to the Lord. From swarms of imps so thick, no matter how he swung his sword he’d kill swaths of them. He told of fights against shape-shifters that scaled walls and roofs. To the bone devil that desecrated corpses, to an eye devil with wings of flesh. Of people like Wilfred who sold their souls out of misplaced hope or of greed for wealth or power. Aldrun told a tale where Patch saved his life twice in one night. As the day grew into the evening, Keep staff stopped or found excuses to work in the hall to listen to Aldrun’s tales, children were enamoured by the mighty figure recounting and acting out his fights. The evening calmed, and the small crowds dispersed, leaving just Aldrun and Albert in the hall.

“I know you’ve only just returned but we could really use your help, we set up an outpost a bit out of town, it alerted us early of incoming demons, however it fell a week ago and now a wight plagues it, endangering and slowing any who pass near it.” Lord Hender looked guilty for having made the request for help, Aldrun didn’t mind, however the request was strange to him.

Confused as to how he was to fight a colour, Aldrun asked. “A white?”

“Right. Best to go at night.”

Aldrun saw the Lord was genuine; this was no joke. “I’ll head out after supper.”

Albert asked for dinner to be served to Aldrun and returned. “Thank you for this Aldrun, I have matters to attend to, but keep well and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Aldrun nodded, and the Lord left shortly after a hearty meal of lamb soup and fresh bread was served to Aldrun. He enjoyed his meal, taking deep breaths of its smell as he ate, filling him, reminding of his found home in Hendertown, Aldrun was happy, but didn’t know that’d be the last time he would see Lord Albert Hender.

Patch trotted through the dark and muddy path, both he and Aldrun were on alert, Patch didn’t know what they were looking for but Aldrun was scanning the surrounds, which meant Patch was looking too. Patch came to a standstill and let out a subtle huff while pointing his head into the trees to a toppled stone and wooden structure. Despite the lack of light, both spotted the movement within.

Dismounting Patch, Aldrun drew the Sword of Greyhawk from a pack on Patch’s side, a blade he had grown to connect with since retrieving it. It held great power able to slice with ease and had a mind of its own, guiding and adjusting Aldrun’s minor mistakes. The topaz laden grip fell into its natural position within Aldrun’s hand. Aldrun pointed Patch back to the road, Patch looked at him as if to refuse the order but turned back.

Pushing deeper into the mud toward the structure, an opening in the canopy around it shone moonlight down into the area. Aldrun held now with a better view of the crumbling outpost as he waited for the movement inside to stir again. He was a white cloth flutter by inside a window, but there wasn’t any wind outside, let alone any that’d reach inside. A white.

Reaching the window slowly through the deepening mud, Aldrun peered through, the white was gone, the lower stone part of the outpost was a single room, there wasn’t anywhere to hide but Aldrun located the main door, or at least the frame it would have sat in. Aldrun rounded the building to the entryway. Turning the corner, he came to face with a pale white ghost, staring at him.

“Good evening.” Aldrun greeted, unsure what to make of the situation. Studying the wrinkled face of an old retired guardsman he recognised from Hendertown.

“Another monster come to kill us?” The ghost spoke with a gasp, not of fright but of the lack of body to form words correctly. Aldrun looked down at himself to see if he looked like a monster. The ghost continued, “Red or green, you’re all monsters here to tear our town apart.”

Aldrun shook his head as another ghost emerged from the trees, from a distance it appeared younger but the face was unfamiliar. “I’m no monster. I’m Aldrun, Slayer of Fiends. I was a guard in Hendertown before the war.” Something in the mud grabbed his foot. Glancing down the moonlight lit a corpse with the same face as the ghost that was coming from the trees. The corpse however, was still moving and it contorted its face at Aldrun. “I fear to tell you, you’re already dead.”

The second younger looking ghost joined the side of the first, both looked to each other, as Aldrun grew more uncomfortable with the undead corpse trying to climb up his leg or drag him down, unsure what it was trying to accomplish. The ghost of the retired man spoke again, “There will only be one dead here tonight, and it’s you, monster.”

Aldrun seeing the ghosts beginning to draw blades from air, stabbed his sword down into the skull of the corpse and it freed his leg. He stumbled backward through the mud to slightly firmer ground as the ghosts closed in closer, the old man took a swing, Aldrun brought up the Sword of Greyhawk instinctively, hoping that the ghost’s blade doesn’t go through. the magic blade and the ghostly blade clash together with a high pitch screech. Aldrun pushes them back.

Adjusting on the firmer but still mud coated ground, he makes an attack toward the younger one, the screech lets out again as blades make contact, Aldrun’s sword twists itself and drags down the blade of the ghost, deafening the two ghosts and Aldrun. The Sword of Greyhawk brings itself into position, when all regain their senses, Aldrun finds himself able to thrust through the position his sword found. While he feels no contact or resistance, the young guard ghost wails in pain. Aldrun follows through by ripping through the air, causing the side of the ghost to burst open and dissipate into mist completely.

Distracted by the remaining ghost of the retired man, Aldrun didn’t notice the corpse of the man behind him, who lunged forward, dragging Aldrun down into the mud. Flanked and now flailing in slick mud Aldrun lands his boot into the undead’s face but is unable to roll away fast enough for the ghost to plunge its sword into Aldrun’s chest. Aldrun didn’t feel any pain. No sting, no wound, no blood. He rolled away in the mud, stood up and looked at his chest. He felt cold. Looking back to the ghost of the old man, he too had a confused look, the corpse started mindlessly crawling toward Aldrun.

“Only a monster could survive such a blow.” The ghost asserted.

Aldrun staggered back, trying to regain balance. He felt fine, but his body was betraying him. Acting quickly, shaking his head and willing his body to work Aldrun readies a stance against the ghost and the ghost’s undead body.

“The monster wavers.”

“Says the dead man.”

Both stare each other down, without breaking eye contact Aldrun takes a weak step forward, then another, before lifting his right foot higher and bringing it down atop the undead’s head, sending it into the soft ground. The corpse’s hands flail between trying to grab Aldrun and pushing into the mud to lift itself out. Aldrun resolves the corpse’s choices by slicing off both arms at the shoulder, still not breaking eye contact with the ghost that once inhabited the body.

Aldrun breaks first, turning to spit cold blood off to his side into the mud. Fuck, he thinks to himself. He looks back to see the ghost flying toward him. Stabbing through his chest again but the ghost continues to pass through him entirely. Turning around and lifting his sword up and through the ghost as it exits him, vanishing with a wail into mist with a wail Aldrun struggles to hear as his senses wane.

A gurgle bubbles from the mud by his boot, the sword goes into the armless undead’s skull. Silence surrounded Aldrun. As he looked up at the two moons, an eagle circled above the decrepit outpost. The stench of death fading from his nose. The light dimmer than he would expect on such a night.

Aldrun staggered and trudged back to the path toward Patch. The eagle perched in a nearby tree and watched Aldrun struggle to remove his chain shirt and check for wounds, but not finding any to tend. His body felt cold and clumsy, but his mind was still working, trying to force his body to safety and help. Even Patch knew it was bad having to lower himself for Aldrun to mount, but as soon as he did, Patch took off back toward Hendertown.

His arms and legs weakened, unable to hold himself onto Patch, Aldrun fell. He tumbled down a small hill, rolling until he was face down in a stream of muddy water. His muscles failed him, unable to roll himself back over. He could only feel his body drown and die around him. Aldrun passed, not in the heat of battle but face down in mud.

Lord Hender held his head high to hold back the tears forming in his eye, but in doing so the harsh sun beaming down causes him to blink and loose a tear. His head levels to the crowd of mourners, many of them still exhausted from the many funerals during the war against the fiends. This felt different to the Albert, this is the first death since the end of the war, and it was Aldrun’s. The Lord Albert Hender took a deep breath in and addressed the gathered township.

“Today we lay to rest a great hero, protector, and friend. Aldrun Slayer of Fiends, cast out from his home, he travelled and fought for a place to belong, he ventured into war becoming a scourge upon the fiends and beasts that flooded our lands. No doubt in my mind if Aldrun ever met a devil or god he would put fear into into their heart. Alas our dear friend has departed, but he shall remain in our hearts and minds. Rest in Peace.”

Taking another deep breath, closing off his speech. He stepped down from the small podium at the head of Aldrun’s coffin and took to Halgresh’s side. Halgresh didn’t turn from looking at Aldrun’s coffin and spoke softly to the Albert “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for him.”

“I should have made him rest before heading out.” The Lord remained looking at the coffin. They had had this conversation dozens of times since Aldrun’s body was discovered, both trying to ease the guilt of the other. The two stepped forward, along with two other guards on the other side of Aldrun. The town’s priest takes a step toward the head of the coffin, giving Aldrun his last rite before his coffin is lowered into the ground by the Lord Albert Hender, Captain Halgresh, and two fellow guardsmen.

1. Huld Dottir hereby transfers, assigns, and surrenders in perpetuity the entirety of her metaphysical essence. Defined as the whole, indivisible and divisible components of her soul and afterlife claim, reincarnation potential, and all derivative manifestations thereof to Archdevil Dispater, Prince of Dis, Second city of the Nine Hells. Said transference shall take effect immediately upon execution of this contract and shall persist beyond death, transformation, or alteration without recourse, revocation or partition.
2. Archdevil Dispater, Prince of Dis, Second city of the Nine Hells shall restore Thrundailo Dout to a living state in material flesh, whole of body and mind, at an age and physical condition consistent with the moment immediately preceding the terminal onset of the illness that was the sole medical cause of death. Such restoration shall occur in the material plane upon the transference of Huld Dottir’s soul to the Archdevil Dispater, Prince of Dis, Second city of the Nine Hells as described in Section 1. No guarantee is made against future injury, illness unrelated to the original cause, voluntary damnation, or subsequent lawful contracts freely entered.
3. Thrundailo Dout shall retain ownership of their soul and full autonomy over body and mind upon restoration, however, this clause shall not constitute protection against future lawful agreements, moral corruption, divine judgement, or voluntary pledge. Nothing herein shall bar Archdevil Dispater, Prince of Dis, Second city of the Nine Hells or his agents from negotiation, influence, persuasion, or observation following restoration.
4. Huld Dottir shall answer any summons issued by Archdevil Dispater, Prince of Dis, Second city of the Nine Hells, whether manifested physically, spiritually, mentally, or by infernal proxy, without delay or resistance. No limitation shall apply as to the frequency, duration, location, hazard, or moral character of the service required. Failure, refusal, incapacity, or obstruction, whether by warding, death or free will shall constitute breach of contract and shall accelerate full infernal claim over Huld Dottir’s essence and physical form, and any associated penalties as determined solely under the Laws of Dis, Second city of the Nine Hells.
5. This contract shall be governed exclusively by the Infernal Codes of Dis, Second city of the Nine Hells and adjudicated solely within the courts thereof. All ambiguities shall be resolved in favour of Archdevil Dispater, Prince of Dis, Second city of the Nine Hells. Fulfilment, breach, sufficiency of restoration, and adequacy of service shall be determined at the Archdevil Dispater, Prince of Dis, Second city of the Nine Hells’ discretion. The obligations herein are eternal, binding across planes, time, and states of being, and are severable such that invalidation of any clause shall not diminish the enforceability of the remainder.

Dotty wasn’t used to seeing her name spelled out so many times as she reached the end of the dozen pages defining and detailing every word in the terms of the contract. She faced the five points that the dozen pages lead up to. The signature and stain of blood was already in its place underneath Dispater’s name and title. Beside it, Dotty’s name was written out like Dispater’s and waiting for her to sign and mark with her blood.

She signed her name. Pricking her thumb on a needle, she then pressed the dot of blood into the parchment. A devil in a powdered wig, her real hair not well hidden, shifted the parchment around to review and then in a lower section marked for a notary, the devil signed and dated 2nd Tuesday of Dreadwane 12333. Dotty wasn’t familiar with the month of Dreadwane but she found small amusement they still had Tuesdays in hell, and oddly the year was right too.

“Now what?” Dotty asked the notary. She wasn’t expecting trouble, but there was no way she’d walk into the Nine Hells without armour and weapons. The heat and weight of the air added to her already heavy steel half-plates and longsword. She saw herself in a reflection. Her black hair, tied up minutes before entering the hells, was already coming free and fraying. Her orcish figure towered over the devil in the reflection even seated down, but she felt small sitting opposite of pale red skin creature as it finished resorting the pages.

The notary held out her hand toward Dotty. “Now you hand over your soul.” At Dotty’s confused look as if she was trying to figure out how to do so, she continued with an eye roll. “Mortals. You’re all so attached to your souls, really should keep them in a safer place.” Before Dotty could get a word in, the devil pointed to the door and flicked her finger left and right a couple times. “Head on out, down the hall on the left, take both first rights, and up the stairs. They’ll place your soul in a jar. Give them this and they’ll make sure it gets to the Adjudicators.” She held out a small piece of paper with a short series of letters and numbers written on it to Dotty.

Dotty stood from her chair, she looked down at the devil in a powdered wig hoping to look intimidating but the devil seemed unphased. She was used to fighting to claim what she wanted but she couldn’t fight for the restoration of her husband’s life, it required bureaucracy and magic. She felt weak. “Down the hall, take a left, first two rights, upstairs.” Repeated Dotty. The devil gave a single nod. Dotty took the piece of paper and left.

She didn’t know what separating one’s soul from their body would entail but she imagined it to be a lot more dramatic and painful than reality. She had entered a rounded chamber, there were sigils that lit up on the walls and floor, a green flame left her chest and into a glass funnel into a jar reinforced with some sort of metal and was told the process is done. Now she sat outside the infernal contracts office in the city of Dis, soulless but feeling no different physically. The whole experience was unlike anything she had come across in the material plane, Felwind. She made the journey home to see the love of her life and husband, Thrundalio Dout, or just Dalio to her.

Over a week later, Dotty reached the front door of her home. It was mid morning, she would still have smelt slightly of sulfur from the hells if she didn’t douse her clothes in perfume the night before. It was a basic tunic she wore over her padding, her chain mail, plate, and blade in the heavy pack on her back. She didn’t want to return and greet Dalio after months apart in her armour and smelling of the hells. She knocked on the door with a smile on her face.

Thrundalio answered the door, it looked like he had just woken up, his cute brown tousled hair just as Dotty had remembered it, however her smile dropped as she met his eyes, he stared back not of love or hate, but like he had a thousand questions. She knew this to be true but she had hoped that the excitement of seeing each other would delay the inevitable questions. Dotty’s arms lowered, she had opened them for a hug instinctively at the first familiar creak of the front door.

“Dalio?” Dotty asked breaking the silence between the two. “How do you feel?”

Dalio stepped to the side of the door to allow Dotty through. She didn’t move until he answered with “Confused.” Dotty nodded in knowing and entered their home.

She laid her pack by the inside of the door, the sound of metal clanging as it came to rest echoed through the living area. The crackle of their hearth warmed the home, a welcome climate from the heat of the hells and cold of the wilds returning home. Dotty sat down carefully on a finely crafted wooden bench she received from a carpenter after saving his son, she was proud of that and enjoyed the bench, but in this moment she feared losing Dalio.

Dalio leant against the wall by the hearth, almost expecting Dotty to talk first, but as the silence between them grew his lips parted, closed, and opened again before speaking. “Why am I alive, Dotty? I know you have a hand in it, your absence and now your face tells me that much.”

“You’re not happy?” Dotty shuffled, trying to get comfortable in her position at the start of an uncomfortable talk.

“No,” was the first word out of his mouth before correcting to “I don’t know. I woke up just over a week ago alone in our bed, the very bed I remember dying in beside you. Our home was cold and empty, Dotty. I found the pamphlet confirming my date of death and funeral date in your bedside drawer. Thinking I was dreaming or some strange afterlife.”

Dalio gave himself a break in the story to see if Dotty had anything to say but she remained silent and paced by the hearth as he continued, “So I went outside. People screamed at me Huld. Friends I know and love looked at me in terror.” Dotty winced at the use of her name but didn’t interrupt. “The guards arrested me, my brother refused to see me. They exhumed my grave and found it empty. They kept asking questions I still don’t have answers for.”

He stopped and faced Dotty. A look of exhaustion settled in his face and shoulders. “And then you knock on the door, arms wide and smiling. How do you think I feel Dotty?”

“I didn’t know.” Dotty mumbled and had to repeat it louder when Dalio shrugged and lifted his hand to his ear.

Dalio crossed his arms and leant against the wall again. “Well, tell me what you do know then. I know you know something, pretty obvious.”

Dotty stood from the bench, and felt Dalio’s eyes digging into her as she walked back over to the door, leant down to her pack and pulled papers out of one compartment. The two locked eyes as Dotty stood back up. Dalio looked over to their dining table and back to Dotty. No words were needed, Dalio remained as he was until Dotty set the papers down and took her usual spot at the table. Dotty looked toward Dalio then down at the table, not looking back up. She heard Dalio pull a chair and saw him sit down in her periphery on the opposite side.

“What’s this? Or am I going to have to figure everything out on my own?” Dalio tapped the table getting impatient with Dotty’s relative silence and lack of explanation.

“I went to the Nine Hells.” Dotty paused, expecting Dalio to say something, but when met with silence she continued, “I went to the Nine Hells, to trade my soul for the restoration of your life. That’s a copy of the contract I signed.” Dotty looked up from the table to her husband, looking the healthiest he’s ever looked in two years, but the smile he wore even in the days before passing was gone. He just shook his head and moved the papers closer to himself. “You can skip most of it, summary is at the end.”

Dalio looked at her in disbelief. “You went to the Nine fucking Hells and traded your soul for my life? And you want me to skip parts of it? No way. You put my name in an infernal contract. I’m reading all of it.”

“I made sure no harm would come to you my love.” Dotty explained as Dalio moved the contract to in front of him. Dalio didn’t speak to her comment, instead focused on flipping through the pages, landing on the last page and seeing the signatures of Dispater and Huld Dottir beside each other sent a shiver down his back and he closed his eyes tightly, Dotty could see the man she loves struggling with their new reality.

Dotty bowed her head to the table again as Dalio began reading the papers. The silence, apart from the occasional shuffling of papers and signature rhythmic tapping he made when deep in thought, was soul-crushing for Dotty. Besides, how can your soul be crushed when you gave it away? She didn’t know, but she could feel it either way. Dotty was not used to sitting still for so long but felt any movement or stretch would cause her inevitable downfall to come sooner.

The papers stopped moving when the sun warmed the other side of the house and the sky started turning orange. Dalio sighed as he leant back in the chair, causing it to groan softly. He drummed his thumb atop the stack of paper three times before breaking the silence. “Well good news is I’m in the clear, by body and soul are my own. You, Huld Dottir, are absolutely damned.”

The break of silence with the love of her life saying she’s damned broke her, she knew what she had done, she did it with purpose but in this moment Dotty’s reality came back to her since Dalio’s passing months ago. “I love you and just wanted you by my side again.”

“I made my peace, yes those last years were painful for us both, we both knew I would die, I felt fulfilled, I had you, our home, my brother, I ran the library like it was my domain. I died at peace knowing I lived the best life I could.” Dalio stopped himself looking away contemplating if he should speak the rest of his thought but turning back to see Dotty’s face he had to get it out. “You tore that away from me, because you were selfish, and now a devil can show up at anytime and whisk you away for any amount of time for any level of risk or moral dilemma and you have to obey it. So you can’t even even be with me.”

Dotty couldn’t move, all she could do was say “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry? Is that what you’re going to tell me when you get back from them telling you to slaughter an orphanage?” Dalio’s voice grew louder.

“I wouldn’t-”

Dalio angrily interrupts Dotty, “Oh? I’m sure refusing their command would go down real swell. In fact, we can check what happens.” He prods the papers with his index finger. “Refuse and they’ll claim the rest of you too.”

“You could find a hole in the contract.” Dotty flips through the pages to a paragraph and points to it. “You’re not whole of mind, my Dalio was kind and caring.”

“You did not just say that.” Dalio stands, the chair scraping behind him as he stood up. “Not whole of mind? Not your Dalio? I am not yours to control and bring back to life. And I can assure you I was very whole of mind when I woke up, still at peace with my death. Everything else afterward has been a confusing and harrowing mess.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. They could have done something to you, changed you in someway.” She tries to explain and reaches for the contract, Dalio sees and pushes it toward Dotty, sending some papers flying and the rest into a mess in front of her. Dotty scrambles to tidy them again.

“Devils might be pure evil but they follow law far more than the best law makers in our world. They’re not corrupt politicians making their own rules, they follow it perfectly and you made me a free agent and for you to be bound for fucking eternity Huld.” Dalio took a moment to breath, holding up a finger to stop Dotty from getting a word in. “What were you thinking Huld?”

“Stop calling me that.” Dotty pleaded. She rubbed the wedding ring on her finger, a reminder of what she fought and travelled for. “I love you.”

“I loved you Dotty.”

“Don’t.” She slams an open hand on the table. “Don’t say that.”

Dalio refused Dotty’s request with a sharp laugh and shake of his head. “I died loving you. The past few days I’ve been praying for your return, hoping to continue loving you. I loved you up until that contract came out.” Dalio looked at the broken shell of Dotty. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this, I can’t stay here.”

Dalio started walking away to the bedroom, leaving Dotty at the table. She calls out, “Wait. I’ll leave, you stay.”

He stops in the doorway of the bedroom turning to face Dotty. “Too late Dotty, our friends think I’m a freak and my brother still hasn’t seen me, I’m still dead in this town, I need a clean start.” Dalio closes the door to the bedroom, Dotty remains at the table as the orange sky darkens. She doesn’t move from her spot, falling asleep at the table, contract half sprawled beside her as the embers in the hearth crackles throughout the night. The fire and warmth once a reminder of home, now only reminded her of the hells.

Thrundalio Dout had left three days ago on the morning after their argument. He left before Dotty woke, leaving his wedding ring atop a note written on the back of his funeral pamphlet that simply read, ‘Don’t look for me’. It still sat exactly where Dotty found it, on their bed. The hearth was cold, the pantry thinned, her pack by the door remained untouched. She dared not leave the house in case Dalio returned or if she was forced to explain everything that had happened to someone else.

She barely moved within the house, only doing so to eat the remaining scraps from the pantry, stare at the infernal contract on the table, sleep on the bench by the hearth, or to sit beside the note and ring Dalio left behind. She had gone over the contract dozens of times since, trying to find a way to right what she had done. It was in these three days that she felt truly empty, not just of lost love but of the lack of soul. A contract signed, and a contract lost.

As the orange sunset darkened to the chilly night, she lay on the bench and felt a warmth. At first Dotty ignored it believing it to be her mind playing a trick on her, then she heard the crack of hot coals, her eyes shot open and looked over to the hearth glowing red as the no longer cold fuel came to life. Dotty was expecting a visitor she didn’t know how the devils would present themselves to her. She sat up and watched the hearth glow and felt it grow hotter.

Growing impatient with her new master she stands and uses a metal poker to prod the fiery glow. “How does this work, huh?” Literally trying to poke an answer out of it.

The hearth hissed, almost sounding like words but she couldn’t work them out, another poke and pieces fell into place, and it hissed and popped. “Paladin Bryn. Tomma’s Crossing. Kill” and with that just as the hearth grew to an uncomfortable heat it fizzled like someone threw a bucket of water on it, leaving the air cold and smoky. Dotty had a first summon, to kill a Paladin at the crossing to the Northern mountains. She wondered why they wanted this Paladin dead but even if she did ask she doubted they’d answer, explanation of summons was not in the contract. Dotty checked her pack still untouched by the door ready for the week’s travel East. Once satisfied all was in order she rested and left in the morning, leaving Dalio’s note and ring behind.

Travel to Tomma’s Crossing was like the dozens of times she had done before, the roads were well established and patrolled by guards and mercenaries alike. The city was built up on either side of a large wall splitting the country of Oxtrad in two, hiding the capital in the frozen north from the forest and desert of the south. Travel between the two hadn’t been closed in nearly fifty years, last closed as a precaution during the Ashlem War. The wall that once looked so protective now loomed over Dotty. She picked up many contracts from Tomma’s Crossing but her target was never within, and the wall seemed to know she was here for a different purpose.

It didn’t take long to find Paladin Bryn. Dotty had quickly found that he is a well respected figure among a temple in the southern half of the city. She always liked the crossing, it invited folk of all kinds. Here an orc doesn’t stand out as oddity, only standing out physically. In the late evening, Dotty watched the doors of the temple from across a courtyard, as their evening service came to an end the crowds filtered out and to their homes. She spotted him exit, have a word with a priest and leave. By fate or bad luck the Paladin took an alleyway beside Dotty. She followed.

Paladin Bryn heard a blade draw in the dark behind him. The rush of metal closing in, he turned around at the last moment to see Dotty’s sword braced and pointed at his torso. Dotty’s sword plunged into his gut. He had been attacked and stabbed before, but only by small blades, the sword angled upward, twisting his insides. Just as quickly as it had entered, it had been removed. Dotty caught him as Bryn fell backward. He struggled to breathe, locking eyes with his killer who wore a face of pain and sorrow. Paladin Bryn died before he could hear Dotty apologise, committing to serve her contract.