Chance raced onwards, crashing through the night-darkened forest with no thought but to reach the imp before it was able to do any damage. He had not even considered waking Yrip or Snarl. He no longer was linked to Shags, looking through his eyes, but was drawn towards the wolf’s presence nearby to the imp.

Bursting through a series of bushes, he arrived where the imp was located; Shags was nearby, lurking in the dark, observing but remaining out of sight. He could smell the lingering scent of smoke in the air as he looked up at the demonic creature perched above. A long, barbed tail hung down from its perch, its wings were furled and its face was contorted into a cadaverous leer.

“Stop!” Chance bellowed as he came to a halt, directing the power of his voice towards the imp, his brow furrowed. The creature turned to look down at him and laughed, a chittering sound that was full of anger and hate and loathing and contempt.

“Stop what, little druid?” it sneered. It held out a clawed hand and a small flame appeared on it, flickering and dancing, a flame that burned deep red and was accompanied by a sulphurous smell. “Come and play,” it went on. “You like to play. You like to break the rules. To break things, people. You like to have fun. Come and have some fun.” It tossed the flame towards Chance and it landed just before him. A few stray leaves caught fire and the smell from it grew even more pungent, making Chance’s eyes water. He stamped on the flames with his booted feet in an effort to put them out.

“You could set the forest on fire,” Chance scowled. There was an anger inside him, rising as he saw the imp’s amused sneer.

“So?” the imp taunted. “What is it to you?” Another flame appeared in the imp’s hand. “It is not like you care.” The last came as a taunting sneer. “I know you, a kid playing at what you are not. Run away, like you always do, and let the place burn.”

The anger that had been growing in Chance reached a boiling point, and not his alone, for he could feel Craghand’s anger amplifying his own.

Rathaz Zaqosa! The words came out as an enraged shout, his voice echoing through the forest around. Storm Call. A surge greater than any he had experienced before swept through him, starting in his feet and rising through him, to shoot up into the air above.

A deep, booming crack of thunder tore through the air above, booms echoing among the trees. And then the heavens opened up, in a small area around the imp. Sheets of rain came bucketing down, drenching the tree and the imp and extinguishing the flame that it held.

A searing bolt of lightning arced from the sky, and for a moment his vision went white from the intensity of it, unable to see what happened. He heard though, for the imp gave a pained yelp and a message spoke in his mind.

Damage Inflicted: Medium

Health Remaining: Unknown.

Injuries: Grounded.

As Chance’s vision began to return, he could see that the imp had fallen from the tree branch and lay on the ground, its wing tattered. Sparks of electricity still danced across its skin. The lightning had hit it hard and Chance laughed as the storm raged on above it. Exultation was strong in him, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The imp had insulted him and was about to learn just how much a mistake that was.

Another bolt of lightning came cracking down as thunder boomed overhead, striking the ground near to the imp. It picked itself up, hissing, a long forked tongue protruding from a toothy maw. Its eyes burned with raw hate.

It rushed out of the area of the storm above it, to escape the driving rain and the bolts of lightning, clawed hands extended towards Chance. Even as it drew near, Shags came tearing out of the bushes where he lurked, flinging himself at the imp and bearing it to the ground, snarling, his fangs ripping into it. Chance moved forward, taking a grip on his staff with both hands. It was the first time he had used the staff as a weapon and once again he realised that he knew how to do so, at a simple level.

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Skill unlocked:

Weapon [staff], basic.

Affinity: Combat

As the large wolf pinned the struggling imp down, Chance swung his staff down at its head. There was a dull crack and the imp fell still.

Damage Inflicted: Medium

Health Remaining: None.

It had gone down easier than he had expected, in large part due to the storm he had called, preventing it from using fire, and also its wings. Before Chance could celebrate, he saw the imp beginning to dissolve. Shags gave a yelp and leapt clear as the imp turned into a steaming pool of liquid that smelled of the worst kind of rotten eggs imaginable. Then the liquid sunk into the ground and was gone, leaving a patch of dead grass behind.

“Are you alright?” Chance asked of Shags.

Fine. It stung for a moment but no harm was done.

Chance poked at the dead grass with his staff, wondering where the imp had come from, and if there were any more out there. Almost in answer, a message spoke in his mind.

Quest: Slay the Seven Demons

Among the Zhurazhi there is a saying; each person has seven personal demons that seek to do them harm. While for most it is a figurative saying, for you the demons are very real. Until you slay them, you will never know peace.

Seven demons, and all for him. One was now dead, with six to go. And he knew exactly why the last one would be; the demon that had appeared on the monolith. This, then, was the path that was set before him, the journey that he had to make, to find the six yet to come, and to slay them. For a time it would have to wait. While the imp had gone down easily, he expected the rest wouldn’t. After all, it was always the weakest that attacked first, slowly building up in power until you hit the final boss. He had no idea why that happened - and he hoped that it was true in games outside of bro shooters - but it was just the way that things worked. Before he went looking for the rest of them, he had to ensure that he was stronger first, better prepared.

He rested against his staff, taking a moment to consider what he had done. He had rushed forth in a fit of anger, of rage, not really thinking through what he was doing, and with no plan. It was an old problem, doing without thinking. While this time it had worked, next time the risk might prove too much. He had to do better, if not for himself, then for Craghand. If he got himself killed through reckless actions, it wasn’t him who would pay the price.

Then there were the words of the imp; they had cut far too close to home, its taunting. He had never gone as far as to set anything on fire, but then again he hadn't exactly cared either, at least not all that long ago. But this place, the experiences that he had faced had changed him he realised. He had been worried by the thought of a fire, which was the normal reaction to anyone; no one liked the idea of a bushfire. It had gone beyond worry though. The thought that someone would actually try and start one had made him angry. Enraged. And that had not been normal for the old him.

Was that how it had been for Amber while she was around him? Was that why she had always been angry with him? The old torment rose back up in him again, that it was him and his irresponsible attitude that had led to her death. A bitter sigh escaped from him. He could do better, except that it would do nothing to change the past.

You seemed troubled. He caught sight of Shags’ large golden eyes studying him.

“Old memories,” Chance told Shags. “Old failings and regrets.”

We all have those, Shags responded Even wolves. But they can help aid our journey as long as we do not let them define who we are.

Chance responded with half a laugh. “That is easier said than done in my case,” he replied. “But I will try.” He poked again at the patch of dead grass with his staff. “Personal demons,” he muttered.

We all carry them.

“It would seem that mine are a bit more literal.” A wry smile touched his bearded face. “Perhaps slaying them will do me some good.”

It had even felt good to destroy the demon. He had been ill at ease with the killing of the rabbit, at least after he had left the form of the eagle but felt no such trouble with the imp, just as it had been with the undead. It had been an evil that had to be fought and defeated. That was all that mattered.

“Let’s get back to the others,” Chance said. “Dawn is still some time away and I am in need of sleep.”