Demons be Gone
Hidden in the dark shadows of the Urbain Forest lived a creature of evil, the murderer of hundreds and bringer of death, it is hard to believe in such a creature, one must indeed have been there to observe the horrendous deeds of the monster. In fact one such as he is only heard of in the tales of the Faerie. This dark abomination and many more such as he bring a terrible curse upon the land, damning the good humans of the world with plagues and nightmares that threaten the end of the world. Such creatures need be killed for the plague to end, at least as far as those who hunted it knew. In these hunters minds images of horrendous deeds and other such things unimaginable to the human mind flashed through their consciousness as they sought after the creature of menace that they assumed must be plaguing them.
Now it is hard to understand how these once quite people had come to such an odd conclusion, after all how could such simpleminded people come up with such things, or even find out about the demon? These thoughts of evil demons had been placed in the normally dull minds of the farmers that lived in the small village which resided near the Urbain Forest by a man who called himself a priest, although the title was given to him by no one in the holy order or for that matter any unholy order. This “priest” had placed the title upon himself as a way to gain power, for the priest never actually had any power until he had discovered ability within himself to read, control and manipulate the feelings and minds of a select few around him. He had found that his control could not affect those with strong minds, but it worked quite well on the slightly simpler mind of everyday folk.
Thus he began to manipulate the people around him unconsciously controlling them in small ways. Little did he know that there were creatures hidden from the human eye that did not approve of Priest’s dictating ways. These creatures were what would have been called the Faerie; a mix of fanciful creatures from the most perfect dreams, to the most horrific nightmares whom had lived throughout time as the protectors of the land.
Before the priest's self-ordained priesthood his name had been Marcus. It was on the night after his first true manipulation of humankind that he had become the Priest. On that fateful night a blood-spattered devil knight came to visit him in his sleep. “Marcus,” it said in an eerily empty voice that seemed to echo back from the gates of hell. “Let it be known. You have been warned; to disregard my words is to taunt the Devil himself,” the demon laughed cruelly. “And no one wishes to do that, so heed my counsel human, stop your deceiving ways and come to the Court to ask the King and Queen their forgiveness. You will then join our Court and live among others of your kind, where you will be placed among those of honor to be feared or liked as you so please.” the knight ceased speaking, awaiting the young mans choice.
To say the least Marcus had been surprised by the arrival of the bloody knight, for several minutes he stood there with his mouth wide open and a growing wet spot on his pants. When he built up the courage to finally answer the evil spirit he stuttered so much that the knight had to take of his helmet just to hear the young mans words.
"What, what's that you say?” Asked the, surprisingly, handsome knight. The new appearance seemed to heighten the young mans spirits so that he was able to answer the not so gruesome warrior, “I d-do...not want to.” he said only slightly stuttering.
“WHAT?” the Knight boomed and his once handsome visage began changing into that of a monster.
“Fine then, face the wrath of HELL!” He cried and pulled a bejeweled sword from its sheath upon his back; he aimed the point to the ground and prepared to plunge the sword into the straw strewn floor to open one of the many gateways to hell. But Marcus would not stand for it, and did the most unlikely of things; he threw a mug of water at the Knight and kicked him in one of the more painful areas of a fellow.
As the Knight doubled over Marcus hit the knight over his head with his very own sword (which the warrior had dropped). With an unexpected cry of agony the Knight shimmered and burst into a bright purple flame. Marcus leapt away from the brightly burning flames and contemplated this new turn of events. At no point did Marcus even think of the idea that he would defeat the demon and had in fact only been trying to knock the warrior unconscious but apparently, as the old folk tale went, a demon hit over his head with his own sword is pronounced dead no matter how hard the whack.
Marcus ran hard until he reached the town of Bolshelk almost two miles away. When he stopped Marcus realized the truth of what he had done, he had killed the ultimate creature of evil, a demon. If he was the slayer of evil, did that not make him the ultimate mortal creature? Moreover, if he was indeed on of those few elite demon slayers did that not mean that all those under him should obey and worship him?
With that in mind, Marcus decided to become a god among men, going from town to town slaying the demons that inhabited those parts for a “small” fee. Therefore eliminating threats to himself as well as gaining wealth and popularity throughout the world. Normally demons where peaceful creatures and rarely the monstrosities that Marcus portrayed them to be; however, the Priest, as Marcus was soon to be known, illustrated the demons as creatures of nightmares, evil beings that where behind all the terrible things that had happened in an individuals life. All droughts and famine that occurred; stillborn children, the cattle and sheep attacked by wolves, even a hole in the bottom of a pan. All was soon to be blamed on that town or villages resident demon.
Several years after Marcus’ coming to power, in a faraway village known as Gulishg, Marcus made his appearance. Beset by a horrible plague that led to the death of the younger population of the village the people felt as if cursed. Following close behind the plague came the rains of spring, the raining season caused the fields to flood and the wheat and corn to rot, turning the once abundant fields into ponds of stagnant water, whose stench overwhelmed the air. Without the fields the villagers were no longer able to feed their animals. Many moved as the small village dropped off the trade route, leaving The village people where in despair and sought anyone or anything to blame for their recent bad luck. Consequently when the Priest came into the village riding upon a beautiful speckled mare, with an entourage of followers behind him and a gaudy magicians robe upon his thin shoulders, the town instantly believed his lies about the demon inhabiting the forest near the edge of the village.
Marcus told them sweet tales of how the demon was causing the good people of Gulishg there pain, he told them of how capturing this demon and slaying it with its own weapon would rescue the village from their terrible fate. After little debate the men of Gulishg kissed their wives and their few remaining children goodbye and went off to go fight the evil demon that haunted the nearby forest and bring back the villages luck.
They took to the road to the forest, walking for half an hour before they finally reached the edge of the woods. The farmers stopped at the boundary of the forest suddenly apprehensive and fearful of the impending encounter. With a sigh the Priest rode to the front of the crowd to speak to the lowly villagers before him; “People of Gulishg,” he called in a monotone voice. “I have come to your town to purge the evil that has haunted it.” he said in a practiced tone, his demeanor that of one who had read the speech many a time.
“But though my power is great, I cannot defeat the evil creature that troubles your humble lives.” The villagers gasped and at that moment, Marcus would have had a mob going after him if not for his plan.
The Priest raised his hand to indicate his wish for patience and gave the onlookers a small smile of encouragement. “I cannot crush this immoral beast without your aid. I can instruct and help seek this creature for you, but a one as pure as I may not kill.” Marcus said the latter with a sigh of regret and a small touch to the side of his eye, as if wiping away a tear. He knew the feelings it would inspire in the crowd of motley onlookers. They would see him as a creature of purity one that could not kill, not even a demon, the villagers would praise him as a god who could commit no crime but instruct from a distance to help those around him in the best way he new. The villagers struggled to hear his every word; they hung on to what Marcus said like a herd of sheep, unable to think for themselves. The farmers started banging their hunting spears and pitchforks on the ground in a rough battle cadence. The Priest raised his hand again.
“The creature will not be easy to defeat, if possible take him alive so that I may question the whereabouts of more demons, it may be that we can free the one it has possessed so do not kill it unless there is no other choice. Find his weapon, but do not use it to harm it unless you believe there is no chance of winning. The weapon is his weakness and will kill him, but it will not be easy to take and it is very possible that we will be unable to find it. I shall take care of that. Remember this at all costs if it doesn’t go well use the weapon.” he cried the last and turned his mare in an abrupt circle and charged into the green shade of the forest.
To the towns people Marcus’ words made perfect sense, though if they had not been held in rapture by his voice they may have questioned his knowledge, but they did not, had they then where would our tale be?
In truth, Marcus did want to question the demon, but he knew that the demon did not possess anyone. He also knew that the town’s people would have no idea of his lies and would not see through them. The villagers made there way into the forest with Marcus in the lead. The Priest made a big show out of locating the demons hideout, he did not actually know where the beast was hidden, but he did not tell his followers that. Marcus tramped through the forest searching for signs of the demon. He would stop repeatedly, raise his hands over his head, and say “arcane” words to try to summon the demon towards him. When Marcus finally found a hint of the fiend, it was in the form of a feather on a bush, most would have assumed that it was the feather of a normal bird, a raven or a crow, perhaps even an owl, but not Marcus. Instead of seeing, the black feather that it appeared to be Marcus saw a feather that was so dark a green that it almost resembled black, it swirled with lighter shades of gray and green and highlights of a golden color that resembled sunlight, these colors would have made a perfect camouflage, such a color did not exist in nature. Marcus picked up the green feather and stroked it.
“At last.” he murmured to himself.
“Good people of Gulishg, I have found evidence of the demon. I will perform a ritual to summon the creature and bring us to his home. The will of this demon is strong, and it will not come to us,” The Priest said with another one of his misleadingly kind smiles. “So we will go to it!” He cried, his white knuckled hand punching the air for effect.
From the start of this adventure most of what the Priest said to his followers had been lies, what he did now was not one of them. Marcus ground the feather in a bowl with the butt of his staff; he then poured a small amount of ground derstra leaves in with the feather and three drops of his own blood. “Lord D’rulikn I summon thee from The North. Lady K¡’Szahalin I summon thee from the south. Lord V¡’Hajli I summon thee from the west. Lady E¡’Taruel I summon thee from the east. Come Lord’s and Lady’s of Etamitlu, I summon thee.” Marcus abruptly switched to the ancient language of the Etamitlu. “§D’Arulikn, ut §K’Verda, ut §V’Hajli, ut §E’Taruel. §B’Ladre seete druhg Rafeg!” his voice rose into a crescendo as he cried out the names of the gods and goddesses breaking as the last of his breath pushed from his lungs.
None of the villagers knew what Marcus was saying; in fact, Marcus did not even know what he was saying. Nevertheless, the spell worked for within seconds after the Priest had finished uttering the final word, a gusting wind swept through the awaiting villagers and the Priest, it swirled around them two times before abruptly stopping. Everyone held there breath in anticipation of what was to come; fortunately they did not have to hold it long. Just as suddenly as the wind stopped it started up again, it seemed concentrated on the bowl though none of the contents within stirred. The wind rotated around the bowl three times and then seemed to dive into it slamming its contents on the four winds. The wind stopped and the group looked around at the clearing, the once abundant trees lay on their sides completely stripped of their leaves and the ground was a mess of upturned earth.
The villagers stared at the once abundant clearing, horrified by the sudden lack of trees that had. Marcus was upset he had expected much more than a sudden gust of air. He was not disappointed. Within a few seconds after the wind had dissipated a sudden ferocious headache came upon him. With the pain came a thousand images; trails through the forest, that seemed obvious now that Marcus saw them, but earlier they had passed them without further consideration. Odd glimpses of a pair of wings as well as a glimpse or two of a face or an arm. The visions came to a sudden stop at a huge tree, the largest Marcus had ever seen. At first, it looked normal, well as normal as tree that large could get, that was when Marcus noticed the opening in a crook between two large roots. The vision took on a sudden blur of speed and Marcus was inside the house. It was beautiful; the walls were covered with living draperies of vines hanging, no, growing from the walls and ceiling. A table of roots grew directly from the floor as well as a bed frame containing a nest of leaves and twigs. As he watched a creature walked into the room, in its arms it carried a sheet and bed covers. Marcus instinctively moved into the shadows to watch it from a safe place. Try all he might Marcus was unable to make out anything but the bare outline of the creature, which was extremely unnerving. The demon made the bed and sat on its edge, turning it pulled a book from a shelf beside the bed and began to read. As Marcus watched with extreme boredom coming on, after the amusement of seeing what seemed to be a book floating in midair, and attempted to leave the room to explore the world outside the creature’s lair. He stood outside the door and looked around at the black abyss that surrounded him; the air left his lungs as he gazed at the darkness below and behind, above, everywhere. No longer could he see the giant tree and no longer was there a doorway to step on, just darkness. With a sudden gut wrenching pull he was back where he started and once again his eyes were held by the demon on the bed. It was rereading the line more than a few times and Marcus found this extremely irritable and mundane, but Marcus resisted the urge to escape the boredom, his fear of the abyss overwhelming his other senses. After sometime the Priest watched the demon put away the book with a genuine appearance of frustration and stretch, it stood to leave the room and suddenly doubled over a wash of pain contorting the darkness of his face. Marcus didn't know how long he watched the creature rocking back in forth with its hands over its ears trying to block some horrible sound only it could hear. Abruptly Marcus was released from the vision and snapped back into present. Apparently, not as much time had passed as Marcus had thought for the members of the search party where just starting to react to their Priests collapse. Before a member of the gathering could get to Marcus, he was on his feet. “I have seen the whereabouts of the demon, it is injured and it shall be easy to take hi” he called to the nervous crowd around him. Marcus jumped onto the back of his calm palfrey and was off before anyone had reacted to his words.
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