Dark shapes flitted through the woods, never still, always in motion. The sun had set a bare hour before, shrouding the vast forest in darkness, as well as Drak Yardok, the one gem of civilization this far east.

Torches shed their dim light over the high walls, illuminating men standing upon the ramparts, girded in steel and thick leather, stalwartly watching the dark woods.

"Why haven't they attacked yet?" thought Valiant, "It is night now, What are they waiting for?" The man shivered, and gripped his bow more tightly.

A spearman appeared from out of the murk. He stopped before the man and tightly saluted. "My Duke," the spearman began, "all is quiet on the western curtain," he trailed off, his gaze resting uneasily on the forest below them.

"That lad is barely fourteen summers young," thought the duke, "too young to know the horrors that will surely follow this wait." The spearman left, going back into the darkness. The duke couldn't help but think that this city would go that way; Into darkness.

He heard a tree split way out in the forest; A grandfather oak, shattering. Then he heard another die, and yet another. Mystified, the duke strained to see what was happening, but the gods-cursed darkness obscured everything beyond a few hundred yards.

The noise went on for an hour or so, though it was hard to tell time in this moonless night. The duke was getting a little cramped from standing still for so long, and so he gestured to another nearby guard, and descended to the city streets, anxious to put the night out of his mind for a few brief moments, as far as he dared, at least.

He had barely set his booted foot upon the cobblestone street when he heard the screams. A man plummeted down from the battlement above. The same young man he had spoken to. Now he was twisted at impossible angles, with his belly ripped open from some sharp, cruel claws.

Valiant looked upon this in shock for but a split second, then drew his mighty sword from its sheath, and with a shout of anger, sprinted back up the rampart stairs.

He felt the tremble for but a moment, then he was flying through the air, heat blasting him as huge chunks of granite and mortar exploded in a ball of destructive fire. The night was lit up as more of these spheres flew through the sky, sent to wreak their havoc upon the beleaguered defenders. The howls of rage from within the forest suddenly seemed much, much nearer.

Valiant landed on the thatch roof of a small house within the city. Luckily the inhabitants had all moved away long before, afraid of the monsters they were. He still had a grip on his broadsword, and his bow and quiver were undamaged after his fall. He stood up on the roof to find a way down, and his attention was caught by another blast; something was bombarding the walls mercilessly, and the defenders were milling about in panic. Valiant wasn't sure if he wouldn't do the same. He knew his place was with his men, yet he didn't know how he could help them.

Shaking his head at his cowardly thoughts, Valiant leapt down from the low roof, and started jogging up the street towards the wall. He immediately noticed a sharp pain in his side. It must be from the fall, he thought. He lifted off a piece from his leather breastplate, and saw that an ugly black bruise was beginning to form.

Disgusted, he covered it back up again, and gripped his broadsword tighter. He kept running towards the wall. The streets were devoid of people, but the sound of the dying filled his ears.

He was but a hundred yards from the wall, when a great ball of fire lit the sky beyond. It arched high above the wall, then dipped down out of site just before it.

The shock of the sphere hitting the wall shook the ground even where Valiant stood in the street. This time not just pieces chipped off, but an entire chunk of wall shattered into a million shards. The ramparts around the blast crumbled to the ground, and a rubble-choked hole opened up to the night. As soon as the smoke cleared, Valiant could see small red eyes glowing in the night, and he heard low growls in the shadows.

Valiant ran off the street, and hid behind a few barrels in front of the abandoned cooper's shop. He watched the demons enter the breach.

Bodies were strewn everywhere. Most were killed in the strange bombardment, though some were taken by the demons. The things were big. They lumbered in through the hole they had made, and stood there sniffing the smoke. The things smelled terribly of sulfur, and looked like things Valiant had only had nightmares about. They were easily twice his height, and bulging with muscles, though they had no skin... simply black ichor, and it coated their bodies like the skin they didn't have. They left trails of it as they walked along on their two powerful clawed feet, their long tails stuck out straight behind them, balancing their weight while their fanged maws opened wide, their forked tongues tasting the air. Four clawed-tipped hands flexed unconsciously as it searched for more prey. The body of a slain archer dangled from around its neck.

Valiant simply hid, awed by their sheer size and terrible might. Then he saw the smaller ones come through the breech in the wall... like ants they came, many of them. They looked like large dogs, skinless like the giants, but they gracefully bounded on all fours. The stench of sulfur grew even stronger as these new ones arrived. Already, the sounds of battle at this side of the city were dying down, and the screams of the townsfolk were beginning. The lucky ones had made it to the castle at the heart of the city. The stubborn ones had decided to risk all to protect their businesses against looters. They now paid the price of their stubborness with their lives.

Valiant knew that the city was lost. There was nothing he could do to help it, other than reach Dragonspire, and warn the Emperor... These things must be stopped, or they will envelope the Empire, and destroy her worse than any war or plague could. He must make it back.

He waited until the things were past him. Oddly, they didn't smell him, though they were trying very hard. They looked right at him, but it seemed those red eyes didn't work very well. But those demon-hounds looked alert... He could see a glimmer of intelligence in the way they acted. Theirs was a pack mentality, but they seemed to communicate with some sort of language; he had heard them calling to each other in a keening wail, and sometimes in a chittering howl.

Soon, most of the demon-hounds were gone too, with only a couple of stragglers left that had come in too late to enjoy the feast. Valiant knew that this was his last chance.

The first one went by without looking twice, so intent was it upon reaching the killing grounds that the demon-giants had created. Valiant let it go by. Then the second one was nearly to the barrels, with the same eager look on its face. Valiant held his sword low, then as soon as it bounded next to the barrels, he jumped up from his crouch, and swung his blade with all his strength full into the slackly open jaw of the hound. Its momentum carried it farther onto the slanted blade, cleaving its lower jaw clean off, and driving the edge far into its twisted brain. The sword stuck, and was wrenched out of Valiants hands as the thing fell and struck the ground, its body convulsing, and bleeding black blood everywhere. Valiant stood back, wary if the beast was faking or not. He drew his dagger, and stood behind the barrel.

But it seemed that the thing could indeed be killed, and that practically taking its head off did the trick. Valiant reached for his sword, and picked it up. He looked in shock at the foot-long stump that was left of the blade. Confused, he bent down to find the rest, but all he found was some ruptured sac of fluid above the creatures mouth... acid? He didn't know, and didn't have time to find out; there was no telling when more beasts would arrive. He remembered that all of these things smelled like sulfur, and he remembered that the beasts seemed to find things on smell alone. That gave him an idea.

He bent down over the carcass, and with a grimace he took a long breath of what the beast smelled like. Sure enough, sulfur. It was very weak, now that it was dead, but it would serve. All he needed was to reach the forest, he thought. He touched the ooze covering its muscles with his dagger. When the blade didn't melt off, he reached over, and smeared some of the smelly ichor onto his hand, then over his arms. Soon, his whole body was covered with the disgusting stuff.

Saluting the fallen hound, and thanking it for its gift, Valiant sprinted for the hole in the wall. He made it down the street without incident, and entered the brand-new passageway. It was wide, wide enough to accomodate the giant demons at least. That theory was proven at that very moment when the outline, then the body of one of the giants appeared out of the hazy night. Valiant froze right in the middle of the passageway, seeing no way to escape certain death. He prayed then for the first time. But he was interrupted by warm breath on his face. He opened his eyes, to see the red orbs of the giant before him, the beast bending down. A pink forked tongue snaked out and tasted the air all around him. It cocked its head, as if it thought it sensed something wrong, but couldn't place its source. Then it stood up, and continued walking into the city, walking over Valiant, who stood transfixed as it walked above him, watched its tail swing above him. He stood there frozen for a moment, aware of how close he had come to meeting the Goddess right then. He shook his head, to get back to his senses, and walked the feeling back into his legs. He was at the other side now. He could see the forest, across the plains... He must reach it, but there must be demons out there... But he couldn't see any. Where could they be?

He decided then that he didn't care. He was going, demons or not. He made sure his bow and quiver were secure at his back, and drew his long dagger, making sure it was covered in demon ichor. He took a deep breath, then broke from the cover of the hole and sprinted out into the open plain.

His legs pumped faster and faster, and he could hear his heart beating louder than the fiery blasts had sounded. He knew that the demons were in the woods too, but he had a better chance of surviving out here than he had in the city. This went through his mind as the trees got closer and closer.

When he heard the howl, it chilled him to the bone. He risked a glance back, and he saw four of the demon hounds bounding out of the hole in the wall and onto the plain with great strides, eating up distance faster than they'd eat up people. Valiant turned back to the forest, and focused on running. He was without a sword, had no time to use his bow, and had a puny knife against demons the likes of which the stories had never mentioned. He had to run.

The beasts howled in fury when he finally reached the edge of the forest, and leapt into the underbrush. Seconds later, the hounds dove in after him.