Of course The easiest thing would be to walk up and ask them to leave; unfortunately, he doubted that even if they were so inclined (which was also doubtful) that they could. They were probably being ordered to attack the dome by their accursed master. So if they didn’t leave, what would he do then? He guessed he’d just have to see what happened, he’d probably be forced to mayhem. He didn’t like that idea, especially considering the previous results he’d attained.
The only consolation this time however, was the fact that it was unlikely that he could actually kill them. Of course There was one other problem, Tom wasn’t at all sure he could hurt them enough to make them leave. He didn’t know how much damage any one of them might need, let alone trying to get them all. Things might get especially tight if they all ganged up on him. Although the old man had promised reinforcements, he didn’t see any behind him. Tom sighed and shook his head, the time for speculation was gone, as he was rapidly approaching the demons.
In the woods, Hortwell turned from watching the demon dwindle in the sky. As he turned around, he was brought up short. Standing not two horse lengths from him was a soldier, and he wasn’t one of Lenamare’s. The soldier grinned mercilessly at him, pointing a broadsword at his middle. Hortwell, stopped cold; all thought of conjuring more demons died in his head. He gazed coolly down his nose at the soldier and waited for the man to speak. He needed time to think.
“So, old man, going to rain demons upon my buddies, is you? I think not.” The soldier said as he stepped forward bringing his sword closer to Hortwell’s chest. “I think I is going to have to put a stop to your black magic, gramps.”
This was not good, reflected Hortwell, most any protection spell would require movement of his hands, which would surely cause the soldier to stab him. “I think it’s time that there be one less magic bagger in the world, don’t you?” As the man spoke, Hortwell noticed a movement out of the side of his eye, behind the soldier.
The soldier lunged. Without thinking, Hortwell dove to his own right and yelled “Zargoffelstan, kill him!” The shout slightly distracted the soldier, so combined with Hortwell’s dive to the soldier’s left, the blade in the man’s right hand and lunging forward, only stabbed Hortwell in the shoulder. Hortwell fell, gasping in pain, his shoulder a bloody mess of cut muscle and tendons.
The soldier spun, but not in time. Zargoffelstan was a minor demon, nothing like the powerful lord that had just left. But he had been Hortwell’s slave for sixty years, and from his experience, there wasn’t a better master in the world.
He saw Hortwell go down, even as the order came. He moved on the soldier with the speed only a demon could muster. True he was weak by the standards of the great demons, but he was still stronger than any man, and he had razor sharp claws. If Tom had been watching, it would have appeared that the man had just been inserted into a food processor. Blood flew everywhere. Arms, legs, entrails, all were spread evenly about the clearing. The man didn’t even have a chance to scream before his guts lined the trees like shiny red ornaments. It took only moments before the little demon was done.
As soon as he finished, Zargoffelstan rushed to his master’s side. As he kneeled down, Hortwell opened his eyes on him. “Zargoffelstan, aid, protect now,” was all he could manage before darkness began to drag him down. He felt so weak, tired, he didn’t even really care how the little demon had managed to get out of the warding it had been trapped in.
As he neared the edge of the dome, Tom scanned the dome’s attackers with his acute vision, looking for the biggest demon. He figured he’d better take out the biggest one while he was at his strongest. He soon spotted the biggest demon. As he settled in behind it, it didn’t even turn or seem to notice his existence. The nearby soldiers did; they were clearing a large area. They hadn’t seen Exador conjure this one, and it was definitely a big nasty looking demon.
Tom walked up quietly to within two arms lengths of the demon who was madly pounding on the force wall. It was shorter than him, only about man height, maybe slightly taller. Its entire body was red, like most demons, it had shaggy goat legs with thick purplish red fur. Small bat-like wings, a thatch of dark hair on its head, and of course, pointy ears and horns.
“Excuse me,” Tom said.
The demon ignored him. Perhaps it didn’t hear me, Tom thought, maybe I’d better speak up. “Excuse me,” Tom said, about as loudly as a man could yell. Still the demon continued. This is annoying, he was trying to be polite... “STOP THAT, DAMN IT!” Tom yelled at the top of his voice.
“What the ferg do you want?” the demon snarled nastily as it spun around, obviously bent on trying to intimidate what it thought was an annoying lesser demon. When it turned to face Tom however, its attitude lost a little of its nastiness. This was partly because its eyes were directed at its own height, and all it saw was solid stomach muscle. Slowly it raised its head to look Tom in his face. As his head came up, his eyes narrowed in calculation. “Uhm, what did you want?”
“I said,” Tom replied dryly, “please stop pounding on that dome.”
“Oh, and why should I?” asked the smaller demon, snidely, but not too snidely.
“Because... I have been instructed to stop you. The easiest way for me to do that is for you to just quit and leave.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I hope, it won’t come to that.”
The demon stared up into Tom’s staring eyes. “You do realize of course,” the demon said, as if sizing Tom up, “that I am under orders, and can’t just stop.”
“I was afraid of that.” Even as he said this, Tom came up with what sounded like a logical ploy. “However, think of this. If you disobey your master’s order, he may punish you with a few hours of torment, but if you force me to stop you, I’ll ensure that you have a few months of agony. You see, I’ll have to forcibly disassemble you to make you go home, and that won’t be fun.”
The demon seemed slightly taken aback by this. “Is that a threat?” he said angrily, his pride asserting itself.
“No,” Tom said, realizing he may have said the wrong thing, “simply a fact.” He decided that for better or worse, if any of this was going to work, he’d better stick to his guns.
“I... don’t think so,” and with that he slugged Tom in the stomach with all his strength.
Tom’s breath, which he’d been talking with, left his body in a rush, as he doubled over in pain and fell backwards. His falling was more in reaction to the surprise than the strength of the blow. Still, it was as painful as any blow he’d received from the bullies at home. Annoyed, but still wary, Tom leapt to his feet. He would have assumed a defensive position from his katas, but his legs just weren’t built for it. So he stood there, hands raised into blocking position. “That wasn’t a good idea.”
The little demon said nothing, but suddenly its eyes narrowed and its hand shot out. Tom raised his arm to block the fist, but instead was surprised again. The fist never came close, instead flame engulfed him. It burned.
Without thinking he dove upwards, much like he’d done when trapped on the color plane. Up he went, sixty, a hundred and more feet. He then paused, and stared down at the demon. It was looking for him, unsure of where he’d gone. The flames had so covered him and obscured the other’s sight that for the moment and he wasn’t sure where Tom was. Before the other demon could get a bearing, Tom came down. He came down hooves first, just like when he’d fallen in the Abyss. This time, however, instead of using his wings to slow himself, he used them to speed up and direct his path. He came down, hooves first, directly onto the smaller demon.