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Falun squinted his eyes into the darkness, trying to avoid the glare of the torches burning brightly on top of the guard tower. He thought he had glimpsed a flicker of movement earlier, or perhaps it was a faint trick of the night. His mind seemed to be playing tricks on him more often than not but when the other, more experienced guards reported the same occurrence during similar circumstances, he neglected the need to visit the local physician. He had not been a Guard of the Watch for very long, all was quite new to him. The routine, the reports, the training and the tracking of the time seemed innocuous and made one feel sick with boredom even after being enrolled for just a few months. On a positive side, he thought, the tower's armor made him feel important, defender of the city, guardian of the weak! Still, the chain mail lay heavy on him and was too large for his frame and made him feel unbalanced and lopsided on occasion. Yet, the bright red tunic that he wore with the large sun and moon intertwined, as Thurzen's emblem, in the center and a star over the heart, made him feel proud.

He almost cursed the day he applied for the position but the pay was adequate and people seemed to respect him despite his age and that he was previously a mere commoner. He still found his most difficult task was to stay awake during his hours of leaning over the wall glaring into nothing. As if the light from the town were enough to illuminate the surrounding countryside and harbor so that any guards could observe any possible danger to the populace well in advance. He laughed softly. From where he stood he could see for only several yards ahead of high wall but in the daytime he could gaze at the rolling hills and mountains ever looming in the distance and the smooth waves of the endless blue ocean disappearing towards a far off land full of adventure! Nothing ever happened here, Falun thought. There was a few daily brawls at several local taverns which would be the most excitement of the week. Although, he had heard that a few local heroes were occupying the Buckle and Stow public house. What lands had they been to, he wondered? What battles they had fought from the deepest cavern to the highest peak? What a life! Slaying dragons or destroying demons or rescuing a fair lass from a tall dungeon keep. Abruptly his thoughts returned to his duty and Falun shook his head and stood straight: 'child's stories', he said aloud, nothing ever happened here.

Suddenly two dark figures emerged from the darkness and Falun shouted: "Be it on yours, halt and be questioned!" His voice almost cracked the visitors had startled him so much, he had had little time to set himself but managed to blurt out the correct statement.

"We are but two weary travelers dear boy, looking for respite and a tall glass of ale. Surely you would allow us entrance to your fair town?" The voice was old, stern, and commanding. Falun thought he detected a note of amusement in the dark figure's voice or perhaps it was impatience, he could not decide which.

As he paced the wall in the direction of the voice, Falun's heart was still beating quickly from being startled just a few moments before. He glanced at the strangers attire and condition as he edged towards them and thought it odd that the two had no packs or bags, evident of long travel. He supposed they had come from a distant city, Shaeyo to the north or perhaps Tuoh to the west. He was now closer to them, standing just outside the gate, he could see them much clearer than before. "Be still and wait. We will come to you," he replied as he started to climb down the ladder above the gate, most likely they were persons of little importance, walking alone this late at night, he thought, but just in case, he hurried. He ran up to the gate just as the keepers were winding the large counter weights to swing the hinges open. A lieutenant strolled through the entrance, ready and waiting with parchment and quill in his hand. Falun stopped slightly back of the newly formed group, consisting of the two keepers, officer, and the newly arrived strangers, eagerly listening if they brought exciting news or even weather, anything!

The officer briefly asked the visitors their names and their business in Turzen and the tallest one answered, "I am Leod and this is my companion, Jun. We do not wish to hinder upon your time good sir. As we told the watch-boy, we merely wish to eat and rest in one of your inns before continuing on our journey to Mount Seil. We will bring you no trouble, I assure you." The taller of the too seemed to do all the conversing with his rumbling, gravelly voice, while the second man only nodded or gestured in agreement with the first. Falun hated it when people called him 'watch-boy', he was not that young! He had a man's job. Boring though it might be.

After some consideration the lieutenant stated, "Throw back your hoods, so that we may see you." The keepers on either side of their overseer suddenly took anticipating stances at the beck, as if expecting trouble. Falun had wondered why the two visitors had such deep hoods and why they were constantly shrouded beneath them but the thought vanished from his mind as the taller of the strangers slowly pulled back his cloak momentarily, revealing his face. Falun held back a gasp. The man, if you could call him that, old and grey though he may be, had had his eyes removed. All that remained were deep holes burrowing into his skull where the organs had previously occupied. Falun had heard of men going blind or losing one eye, but losing both? Neither scars or marks were left as a result of the man's loss, it was as if the eyes had simply rotted and had blown away with the wind. Yet, the old man still shone with strength and presence, as if he possessed no handicap. A powerful man as well, Falun could sense it.

The second man, was dark with jet black hair and had a thick, muscular build. he stood a head shorter than his compatriot but a large man nonetheless. At least he still had both of his eyes, Falun thought. Yet, there was something odd about him that Falun could not put his finger on. Maybe it was the fact that Jun, as he had been called, cautiously gripped a huge ashen hilt of a would be sword, during the entire encounter with the gate guards. Jun had been ready to defend his leader in an instant, he was certain of that. With a blade, Falun imagined, that sword would be enormous, surely too heavy for any mortal man to carry.

At the sight of the first revealed man's face, the somewhat stunned officer stuttered in speech and quickly said, "My apologies good sir, I did not wish to offend but you must understand we must check any and all who enter, to make safe the city." He licked his lips nervously.

Pulling his hood back over his head, and as Jun did the same, Leod replied, "No harm has come of it lieutenant, I face the world as I am but are not keen to advertise my disturbing appearance too openly." And with a bow between the three of them and the swift search concluded, Leod and Jun left the officer and his keepers to closing and securing the city gate once more.

Falun watched the pair go, headed toward a group of taverns, wishing he could accompany them, hoping to ask them all sorts of questions or at the very least let the local ale loosen their tongues enough to possibly confide in him of their many heroic adventures and tales of legend. Falun wished it were so, yet, duty called and as he slowly returned to his post he let out a long sigh, ultimately waiting for daybreak. Nothing ever happened here, Falun thought. Nothing.

"There is also the issue of the town guard, and the gatehouse. We need the town guard whittled down, by any means necessary, and the gatehouse to be sabotaged. It must not function properly when the time comes to close the gates."

After hearing all of objectives acquiring accomplishment from the group, Screwtape stated; "Damarus, the issue with the town guard would most suitably be a task for me and my second, So'kar. We are more than able to abolish the town guard, destroy the watchtower and make sure that the gate is open when the party here leads their charge." Screwtape and So'kar were perhaps more suited for more public missions because of their appearance. They both resembled humans at a glance and with their cloaks on; few would approach them. Although some might question their need for a black shroud in the warmer weather. There was not much Screwtape or even So'kar, who was slightly shorter than this master, could do about that. To reveal themselves would set the town in a turmoil, it would be a difficult place to contain if it were stirring like a beehive.

"We will most likely need some sort of transport, some way of getting me and my lieutenant So'kar close to the city in advance. Group teleport or flight perhaps would be the simplest solutions. I assume there are several here capable of such things?" Screwtape moved the opening of his hood, looking directly at Tyreus in particular, waiting for the demon's response. He wondered if the demon possessed the ability to teleport another being, two if that, and able to complete it without being noticed. Tyreus and possibly a flying demon could also both embark on the town, aiding one another in their individual missions if necessary. 'There would be no failure,' he thought, not if Screwtape was involved.

Screwtape had intently watched the dismemberment of the paladin in silence, eagerly listening to every word of the prayer and eventual breakdown of the now, bloody corpse. He was a demon of great knowledge that he used to aid all of his dark powers, every little slice he gained was added to his plethora of erudition. For most of the event he positioned himself well back from the gathering and growing circle of fellow demons. He was briefly beside De'Kamoth, until the demon of gloom ventured forward during the final screams, leaving him alone in the deep shadows. The demon seemed to receive a surge of vigor as he edged towards the helpless human. Screwtape could see the lust fluctuate through De'Karmoth's dark mass as human's agony climaxed.

"Now, demons, we march upon Thurzen." Damarus bellowed. Hearing this, Screwtape was pleased at the thought of going to a human town again. It had been a while. 'Even more fun to be had!' he thought as he followed the voice out of the cavern. Exiting from the rough stone over their heads, the party found themselves at the breadth of a large range beneath a looming cliff side. The vegetation underfoot inhabited rich green grass and standing tall, spotting the landscape, were many elderly trees, some in clumps and some alone. The sun was bright in the sky and Screwtape made out that is was about midday. He could see dark clouds on the horizon, arriving above some far off, hilly country, likely on its way here. Rain, he did not like rain.

His thoughts reminisced momentarily to his efforts in the battle that had recently ensued. If any had observed his fighting, attacking the enemy from the outer edges, they would have seen a savage almost graceful force at work. His long, poisoned dagger was always effective in cutting down numbers of opposition. It was clean and once again resting in the sanctuary within his cloak. Always ready at hand. He loved getting in close with the enemy, knocking the limbs away from the body, stabbing and thrusting up and out of the throat. All in one quick motion and on to the next enemy. That was his favourite way in combat. The blood exploding from the lacerations from his corrupted blade and how quickly the poison worked its magic, leaving the split body gnarled, sickly, and twisted. He supposed he could compare it to 'filleting' a fish these humans seemed to enjoy consuming. He laughed.

"Damarus, shall I send my lieutenants ahead to scout for us? We may come against some opposition along they way. It would be better to be prepared before we arrive at our destination." Errtu quickly asked their leader. Respect and strength apparent in not only his voice but also evident in his tall, imposing stance. Growing admiration of the hulk Damarus leading by example back in the cavern, Screwtape supposed.

Before Damarus could answer Screwtape stated: "There is little need Errtu, my brethren are already scouting ahead and are already traveling fast to Thurzen to gather all information possible. They can inform me quite quickly if any ordeal arises." He paused and then continued in a slightly humourus passing. "Though I'm sure too many scouts are never too bad a thing as long as your aids know how to stay out of sight. They are not bumbling fools I trust? And are not favourable to get us ambushed by some foolish ambitious army or venturing rebel raiders?" There were not too many situations that Screwtape did not find amusing.

"The allowance is appreciated Damarus, for I do have certain advantages when my brethren can be relied upon and it aids me when they are relatively close at hand. And yes, some of them are spies and some... have other talents but I do not wish to reveal all to this group at such an early stage in our journey. You have my word that my followers will not be discovered by any."

"As for my knowledge of you Damarus, it pays to be informed of all events in hell and on Sanctuary. Altough this certain understanding was purely by accident, if you believe in such a thing. One of my brethren was allied to you in days of old, he was a scout sent away in search of a particular rival of yours. Alas, he returned after you died in your last life, and finding the cult cavern leveled, he vanished for quite some time. He still marks you well as a demon knowledgable in battle especially between different cultist groups. You won several victories over would be stronger opponents did you not? Out numbered and ambushed on quite a few occasions I believe. Still enough with idle talk, let us be about the business. I for one have one question bearing heavily on my mind. Where is Tyreal as of this moment?"

Hearing Basoriel's retort to Zetharael's comment, he had guessed right, there was far more to this demon mage than anyone had supposed. He had a growing respect for the spidery fellow.

"Have a care Aurael and settle your tongue, it is not like you to speak out of turn." Screwtape stated. "Damarus is more than worthy of being chosen as leader, you do not know him as I do. He himself is a fortress on the battlefield and you would do well to fight on his side, he is a vanquisher of foes and leader of a large number of loyal followers. He has my full support if he lets me handle my own brethren as I wish. Greetings Damarus, and I believe congratulations are in order are they not?"

Screwtape laughed at Zethrael's jest. Though he assumed that Basoriel had vast knowledge of his lord's intentions, more than any of the others stepping onto the stones, including himself. Hardly a laughing matter. That thought aside, he nodded his head deep within his hood in acknowledgment of those he recognized and paused momentarily in those he did not. With little use for eyes, he could paint a vivid picture in his head, as if every detail and everything was finely drawn in fire, his hollow sockets bored a hole in his world, for he had seen to much that the eyes could not withstand. He could smell the party's hesitancy too, or lack of it, some were eager, especially Damarus. If only everyone saw like he did, the universe would be much different he supposed. His mind came back; a very strong gathering indeed, he thought. This just might do. The Shroud would enjoy their new quest upon Sanctuary, and he would delight in standing side by side with So'kar, destroying the forces of the light.

Screwtape was in his study deep in thought when a knock came at the door. "Come in," he replied. Opening the door was So'kar his second in command. Clad in his usual black and red granite armour which seemed to seethe with his breathing, coarsing with the burning lava held within it. And slung across his back, one of his many trophies, a great fire sword which he had conquered a huge old demon in possesion of it. He had his masters respect and loyalty to his master in return.

So'kar wasted no time in stating his business. "My Lord, my apologies for intruding. I do not know if you are aware that there has been much talk among the common rabble that a new power has emerged from the City of the Damned. He calls himself Namphiel. They say he is gathering an army."


"What sort of army?" Screwtape asked. For he himself had been relatively unnaware of a gathering of any kind. Though, he thought, these new lords don't last long. Hungry for power and always a clever lieutenant waiting for just the right time to strike and take up his master's throne. Did these new lords ever learn that to rule in hell you must rule with fear and without question. No second chances, no forgiveness, nothing.

"I dug a little deeper," So'kar reflected. "and learned that it's a first wave intended to infiltrate Sanctuary with sleeper demons, which would explain why some of your acquaintances have been called to him as well, my lord. And a few old acquaintances at that. Some say he will be the next great Dark Lord, to rule over Heaven and Hell on top of the human world" Screwtape's head came up at that and So'kar hurriedly added, "but it is only just talk my lord."

"So he is going to Sanctuary is he?" Screwtape thought aloud. And with the mention of infiltration he was surprised that he himself had not been called before the others. No matter, if this squabble of ragtags were going to Sanctuary then they had best be about it, even without him. And good luck to them without Heaven sticking their angelic noses in as well. He was not proud. Was he? He supposed he must be jealous. The opportunity to be on Sanctuary once again would be an enjoyment, a sort of holiday. He would go. He would! "You may take your leave now So'kar, well done, I... I have some business to attend to." His lieutenant bowed and left his study, closing the door leading to the outer processions of The Shroud main hall behind him.

Screwtape sat back in his large throne-like chair slightly puzzled. He let out a sigh and got back to the immediate work on his desk, so many papers to go through. Why did he have to bother with papers? Frustrated he yelled "This is hell! What do I need papers for? And! Ah!" He laughed at his gestured fist, he would find out more about this rabble rousing and their new lord later. He reminded himself of the vital papers infront of him. He tried to focus his attention once more to the situation at hand. 'But why now?' he thought, as his mind momentarily slipped away. The news had slightly disturbed him. Everything was running smooth and according to his plans. He had finally gotten hold of the ancient documents of which he had searched for what seemed like ages for. He had only scratched the surface of what power and what secrets they could reveal.

He shook his head. 'Enough with these concerns, now for some of that human tea I have', he thought. He had acquired a taste for it after years of work on Sanctuary and he had found it helped aid his concentration. He tried to get up out of his seat and something tugged at him. "Ah so they want me after all," he said aloud. He grinned and all of a sudden he vanished completely leaving the study almost as it had been. A select few ancient scrolls that only Screwtape himself had seen had apparently managed to travel with him.

He appeared, standing on a runed circle surrounded by red and black tiles in a giant hall. The high walls arched above, supported by jagged black spires of crystal. Imps skittered across the floors, carrying all sorts of tools, stone tablets, and even weapons in and out of doorways. Some of the creatures carried armfulls of old scrolls, dropping a few and picking them back up. Screwtape would have done anything to have a look at them. The place was a bustle of activity, it looked as if they were indeed preparing for war. The rumor appeared correct.

"Another has arrived, my lord." said an unfamiliar voice. Screwtape looked to its source to see a rather odd looking figure, standing nearly 6 feet tall with spider like legs. It clicked across the stone floor, picking up a writing tablet with its' clawed hands, and began scribbling down notes on its surface. It looked like a list from where he stood.

He looked up ahead to observe a giant demon around 9 feet tall, who sat atop a massive throne of obsidian. He glanced down at Screwtape through old yellow eyes, before raising a clawed finger to his temple in contemplation, as if considering what to eat for what the humans called 'breakfast'.

Screwtape knew that the demon must have got hold of one of the summoning stones. He wondered what lost chasm he found it in or who he had killed for it?. He wouldn't mind having one himself to use for summoning his brethren sworn to The Shroud.

The figure on the the throne abrubtly leaned forward and aided by the firelight Screwtape recognized the face and spoke before the demon could, "Namphiel is it? That's not the name I remember you last having. And no, no your reputation was quite different in those days wasn't it? But you appear to be doing better since we last met. State your purpose, why have you summoned me here?"

Namphiel smiled, if you could call it a smile. "Greetings to you Screwtape. It has been a while hasn't it? But the old ways aside, I have a job for you."