Chapter 1 – Campaign.

Pyre tied her long red hair back again for the sixth time as she hugged the corner wall, her patience wearing thin. What was taking the others so long. They should have finished here by now. They still had plenty of other things to do as well. She sighed as she finished and released her hair, the ponytail flowing down her back and over her upper legs, teasing her through her leggings. It was something that she was quite proud of.

She peaked around the corner again, eyeing their target. The building in question was a warehouse deep in the dock district, fairly nondescript and one that time had not been that kind to. The grey paint was peeling off the walls, wooden boards bare and cracking, and the letters that had designated it as a storehouse for Oaken Cart Group had mostly all fallen off, leaving only shadowed outlines behind. It had recently changed hands for a small and hence somewhat suspicious sum, the final clue that had led them here. The six guards stationed at the front reinforced that they had indeed found the right place.

For all the work the Black Shadow Organisation had put in to hiding this operation, their choice of guards was pretty pathetic, and Pyre wasn’t even sure what was making the others so cautious. Four of the guards were armed with mundane long-swords, one with a crossbow that could possibly be either magic or blessed given it’s slight glow to her enhanced senses, and the last with a pair of daggers. That last one also probably had some magic that would help him move around the battlefield unseen given his build, but if he did so, what was the point of standing out there in the open anyways. She would say that they almost seemed to be there mostly for show, as they were all standing there rather casually, talking amongst themselves. One was even eating his lunch. It’d be his last meal though.

Behind the guards was the main entrance to the warehouse, a pair of huge sliding doors, weathered and cracked, which were closed of course, though set into it was a smaller door that Pyre had seen one one of the men go through earlier. That was her target and would be her point of entry. She was built for frontal assaults, so it suited her fine. The others were responsible for the windows, side or the back entrances, just in case they tried to be sneaky or had set up a trap for them, not that the sinister group had really been paying them any attention. That this was the only set of guards did seem to hint that all of the other entrances were probably well locked anyways.

(We’re good to go. Let’s get these bastards.)

Pyre leapt around the corner and started sprinting towards the guards as shards of ice rained down on them from above, Elsa doing her thing, true to her name. It was very cliche, but it fit she guessed. The guards didn’t seemed surprised, immediately stopping what they were doing and arming themselves, falling into a defensive formation, the rogue vanishing while the fighters surrounded the archer. As expected. Se’kath could deal with the rogue. The first two fighters had fallen to the ground, impaled by Elsa’s ice, as Pyre reached them, her fists encased in flame as she punched the closest fighter, his body crashing into the warehouse door with a loud clang, then falling down limp as she dodged the attack from the remaining fighter. Too easy, though she might have powered up that attack a little too much. She grinned cheekily as she dodged the fighter’s swings, all very predictable, his presence preventing the archer from taking a shot at her, as she carefully manoeuvred herself around him to maintain it that way. With another barrage of shots from Elsa distracting the archer, Pyre decided that she’d taunted the fighter enough, counter-attacking his next attack with a flaming fist to the head, before then sprinting past his falling body and knocking the archer off to the side with an infused roundhouse kick. With her flames dying off she picked up the dropped crossbow, examining it closely. It was indeed magical, though it only had a minor enchantment that stopped it from getting wet. She sighed, tossing it to the side. No use at all to them. A rain of blood from one of the nearby buildings brought her attention back to the present.

(Did you really need to use that now?)

(#$%#! He got a critical on me! Deserved everything he got.)

(What if we need it later? It wasn’t as if he was capable of actually hurting you.)

(It’s the principle of the matter. The boss won’t be here anyway.)

She sighed. At least the rogue was dealt with. She was a little worried however. Reports that had cost them quite a bit of money had said that the Black Shadow had had squad of thirty present here, and that still left twenty four, some of whom she was sure would have emerged from the warehouse by now. The couldn’t have missed the noise of the scuffle. But no, it was now deathly quiet. No sounds of movement, no reinforcements for those that had just fallen. Not to mention they’d not heard anything from Lyane, who had sneaked her way in a little earlier.

“You worried?”

Pyre nodded to the Paladin that has just walked up to her. Jasmine had been responsible for dealing with the side entrance, and obviously no one had emerged from them. While she was dressed in full plate and hence Pyre couldn’t see her face, she was sure that while she had asked she didn’t quite share her growing apprehension.

“Something is amiss. It’s not right.”

(You’re worrying over nothing again Chris. Let’s mop this bunch up and head back to the tavern. I’ve got a sweet date lined up.)

Jasmine gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “It’ll work out. We’re the heroes after all. We’ve made it this far. No point worrying out here.”

Pyre nodded again, steeling herself. Perhaps it was just other worries eating at her instead. Coating her fists in flame, she walked up to the door, testing to see if it was unlocked while expecting it to locked. To her surprise it swung open easily. Then the smell of blood hit her. Where they too late? A couple of the hostages were quite important to her, and she was praying that Lyane had done her thing and they were still alright. Throwing caution to the wind she charged in through the small door, then stopped, instantly feeling sick. Everything was definitely not alright. There were bodies everywhere, at least what remained of them, both hostage and Black Shadow alike, blood pooling in the middle of the room where a human sized demon stood, grinning at her as a twisted abomination arose behind him from the rift in the middle of the pool. Lyane’s body lay off to the side, also bloodied and broken. She had failed, and whoever that demon was, he was powerful.

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(Sorry guys. I wasn’t able to handle him.)

(And Paul made you sit through all of this?)

(Boss time! Told you you shouldn’t have wasted it.)

(Heh. We can take them.)

“The Dark Knight Aza’toast demands payment for the wrongs against him, and for those who hide what they really are. Order must be preserved!” the demon stated in a grating voice as he pointed at Lyane’s body, power rising in his voice as he said his spiel, before a dark light washed over the abomination and he vanished.

Pyre shook her head. Not this again. We’ll, the first part was justified, as after all Mi’jar had stolen the Dark Knights lover and taken her as his own, but the rest? She sighed, letting her rage build up as her power flowed through her, her very body taking on the aspect of flame, her hair flaming and flowing free as it burnt through the hair tie, causing shadows to dance on the inner walls of the warehouse. Aza’toast was going to pay, but for now his abomination would have to suffice. Jasmine stepped up beside her, sword unsheathed, the blade glowing with holy light.

(We’re coming. Save some of the battle for us. Stupid doors are locked with magic though.)

The abomination wasn’t pretty, and that was an understatement. With more faces and tentacles than bodies present, it appeared to be comprised of a dark flesh that oozed, well something, into the pool of blood around it. It twisted and turned, screams emanating from it as it did so, eyes blinking and teeth gnashing, its mass reaching up to the ceiling. Jasmine started chanting, circles of holy power forming in the air around her before they fused into beams that shot into the abomination, searing its flesh and causing it to howl in rage. Pyre follow up with an attack of her own as she jumped into the air and came crashing down into it, fists white hot. Flames exploded across the abomination, throwing Pyre back with their shear heat, but instead of the expected shriek from the monster, there was... nothing. Undaunted, she poured her magic into her fists and launched another attack as Jasmine started another round of chanting. Same effect. Her flames poured over the abomination with no effect. Another volley from Jasmine then slammed into the abomination, cutting deep.

“Order... must... be... maintained...” the abomination howled as its tentacles came to life, flailing around its vicinity.

“You... both... must... die...” it echoed, all of its eyes focusing on Jasmine as it swept all of its tentacles towards her.

“Oh no you don’t.” Pyre raced back to Jasmine’s side, flames coating her body as she parried or blocked the tentacles, trying to keep them away from her team mate, pouring all she had into her defence.

Then all of a sudden her flames went out, her body limp and unresponsive as her vision went black, a tentacle of the abomination having gone clean through her.

(Oh gods. It rolled a double critical against you Chris.)

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Chris sighed, and stared at the table in front of him, the miniatures arranged on it representing their current battle. Pyre’s figurine was now knocked over, and she wouldn’t be getting up again. Death in this Role-Playing system was permanent. She was gone, and she’d been his favourite. The chatter of the other players washed over him as they continued the battle, but he wasn’t really paying any attention to them at all. Pyre had managed to survive two campaigns, but he had sensed that this would be her last when Paul had taken over as Game Master. Things had been getting increasingly difficult for Pyre in game, and Lyane as well, not that anyone had actually voiced their complaints. Paul was a good GM and knew his stuff, he just had this thing about the natural order of things, and whenever Chris had role-played Pyre, Paul had always given him the disapproving look. Peter too with respect to Lyane, but Peter seemed indifferent to it, and was already tinkering with creating a new character at the table, albeit a male one this time. Chris didn’t think he wanted to go through that right now.

They were a good bunch of people though, all things considered, and they had been gaming together for years now, well most of them, and even flatting together for the last year. Mille had been the one who had usually run the games, and she was brilliant at weaving a tale and making you feel that you were actually a part of it, but she had said that she wanted a break, and hence she was now playing Elsa in this campaign. Peter was fairly care-free and seemed to go through a lot of characters, though Lyane had managed to last him almost a full campaign, which was unusual for him. Bruce always went for the stealthy types, as evidenced by his current character Se’kath, but he was also very prone to making bad judgement calls and had abysmal timing. Rachael, who was playing Jasmine this game, was a really sweet girl and was close friends with Millie. Possibly closer than any of the others realized, but there hadn’t been any indications that the others would have picked up on, as publicly she was currently sleeping with Peter, at least on the odd occasion. Which also kept Paul and Damian’s attentions off her, as she was actually quite attractive. Mind you, Millie was too, but not quite in the same way, and Chris was actually secretly jealous of them both. Rachael treated him quite well, which he really did appreciate.

Damian, whose character was Mi’jar, the apparent cause of the Death Knight’s anger towards their party, was a recent addition to the group, the only one not currently living there, and a bit of a womanizer, both in the game and out, and a close friend with Paul. They’d met about a year ago and really hit it off, which actually surprised Chris, and not long after Damian had been invited to game with them, as was the usual practice. But Paul had changed a bit as well, his views becoming a bit more rigid, and all that Chris could put it down to was Damian’s influence, even though he was never quite sure exactly what Damian’s views were. Damian had tried at one point to hit on both Millie (who flat out rejected him) and Rachael, who had instead starting sleeping with Peter.

Chris sighed again. He had enjoyed playing as Pyre, but his enjoyment had been decreasing these last few sessions. Perhaps it was the other things that were plaguing his mind as well, but right now, at this point in time, he’d had enough. He pushed his chair back from the table and stood up, picking up Pyre’s figurine from the table and putting it in his pocket.

“I’m done for the night guys. I’m going to retire as I’ve got work early. Let me know how the battle goes. Give it hell.”

“Night.”

“Night.”

“Sure thing.”

Rachael gave him a comforting smile. “Hope tomorrow goes well for you Chris.”

Chris tried to smile back, but failed. He appreciated her words though. “Thanks.”

Turning, he left the lounge and headed up the stairs to his room. It was the smallest one in the house, but it sufficed, and was easy enough to keep warm. Pulling out the figurine, he placed Pyre carefully on the shelf beside his bed, and them collapsed onto it, upset, but also suddenly very nervous and anxious. Tomorrow was indeed going to be a big day, and not just because of work. He doubted that he would be able to sleep well at all, and having just lost Pyre was not going to help at all. But he had to try. He’d been planning it and plucking up the courage for so long now that he didn’t want it ruined by being too tired.