He opened the huge portal above the northern outskirts of the city and stepped from the swirling black surface on to the buildings below, his giant weight crushing them beneath his foot like dry grass. Mortals caught beneath his feet as he stepped fully into the city squished like grapes. His minions came streaming through the portal behind him. He'd chosen this spot to cause the most panic among the mortals of this cursed place. He could feel the power of the Staff of Ceitus at the center of the city, there in the castle on the hill. He would finally be rid of that damn bit of magical shit that had haunted him for so many thousands of turns.

     Shadow wraiths and black dragons swarmed forward over the city, spraying acid and freezing cold down on the now screaming and running mortals. The panic he'd planned for these insignificant mortals was manifesting quickly. Starting at the edge of the city and moving in toward the castle was going to give these pathetic creatures time to fear for their lives and despair before they were crushed, burned, torn apart, or in any number of other ways brought to their sorry end. Many would be drained of the life that allowed them to access the magic they had no right to as he pulled from them that very essence to use as his own.

    He felt the magic of a small group of individuals who'd banded together and begun to fight back against his flying army. Powerful blasts of magic unexpectedly wreaked havoc on a full flight of dragons, blasting them out of the sky. The pitiful mortals had grown strong during his banishment. Not strong enough though, as they were still nothing compared to his own strength.

    He reached out with his magic and his animosity and immobilized all six mortals then lifted them from the ground and brought them closer so he could inspect them. Two traditional humans, three beastmen and an altemen, all with a strong connection to the magic, enough that together they might have actually caused damage to him if they'd have known how. His anger grew at their impertinence. How dare they think they could rival a true Demon! He reached into all six at once with his thoughts and ripped the essence of their magic from them, absorbing it into himself. He could feel the flow of it, the newness of each mote as it merged with the magic within himself. He flung the lifeless bodies down into the streets and turned his attention to the center of the city and the glow beginning to form at the top of the tallest tower there. Ceitus! The hate for that person, that name, everything it represented darkened his vision and he stepped forward through the city, wading through buildings as through water. Magic of various sorts struck the shielding around his body as he went. He ignored their puny efforts, his eyes and attention on the castle. His thoughts on destroying the last remaining artifact of a long absent God and a hated enemy.

   That cursed piece of magical instrument created and wielded by the God called Ceitus. Ceitus was bad enough, a hated enemy with power to rival his own, but then for him to have created this abomination of an artifact with the express purpose to eradicate Demons, that was beyond reprehensible. He deserved to suffer for that. These mortals that worshiped him and now possessed the artifact would suffer for exposing it once again. The impertinence at attempting to wield it would be punished and all the mortals of this troublesome country would suffer and die! Every last one of them! And their memory would be wiped from all the realms!

   More mortals with strong magic joined the fray, battling dragons and wraiths, behind him the portal continued to swirl and from it now poured foot soldiers from the Demon Lands. Dark monsters of all kinds; devils, stonewolves, trunbuls, golems, and more all marched forth into Retinor and began rampaging through the streets, laying waste to everything in their path, overrunning pockets of resistance by sheer numbers. Blood ran in the streets and screams painted the air with fear.

   He reached out again and again in all directions, yanking the magic core from mortal being after mortal being, absorbing their magic into himself and leaving lifeless bodies behind as he continued to crash through the city to its heart. He reached the castle just as the light from Ceitus' staff began to change from white to gold. Someone seemed to know what they were doing with the staff as the spell to kill Demons grew in strength. Still a way to go as his giant, red-skinned claws reached out and ripped the roof and walls off the top of the tower, exposing the staff and the small group of mortals gathered there in the room. 

   A hastily prepared magic shield surrounded the group and the staff.  The staff itself was still partially embedded in the rock that made the floor of the tower room. Seven powerful Wizards surrounded the dias and the powerful Wizard touching the staff. The shield was maintained by the seven while the eighth performed the spell.

   The Demon reached out and began to crush the shield between two of his massive claws. The physical and magical pressure he exerted against the magic shield caused one of the seven mortals to collapse almost immediately. The black and red claws flaked a little from the force. Magic cast from the surrounding castle and streets became more of a constant pressure against the shield that formed a second skin around the giant Demon. Some of the more powerful spells penetrated the magic and impacted against his red and black hide, doing little damage but raising the Demon's ire even more. 

   Cracks like a web of light began to form in the dome shield around the Staff and the Wizards. The Demon was  surprised by the strength of these puny mortal's magic.  All the better when he finally consumed their magic core. There was no way their insignificant magic could continue to last against his greater might! 

   From somewhere nearby a stream of white magic shot toward the magical dome the Demon was attempting to crush. The light and magic blended with the magic of the dome and strengthened it, repairing many of the cracks. A short moment later, another streak joined the first, and then another, and another.

   A booming growl escaped the Demon's throat, like the thunder from a hundred lightning strikes. Wizards on rooftops and in the street sent magic flowing to the dome shield, reinforcing it. The Wizards outside the dome were unprotected, exposed to the Demon and he began to rip the magic from them as quickly as he could while maintaining the pressure on the dome shield. As soon as one Wizard's life was snuffed out, another would take its place, adding its magic to the dome. Soon the Wizards began teaming up and protecting each other from the Demons hunger. Wizards still fell to his magic and anger, but slower and more Wizards joined every minute.

   The light emitted from the staff changed again, from a golden glow to a glaring blue-white light and a high pitched whine pierced the Demon's hearing.  A bright blue bolt of magic shot from the gem at the top of the staff, unerringly stabbing through the center of his chest and exploding out his back, disintegrating a path through his body, eliminating his heart and the magical core contained therein. 

   The Demon Deritomas woke suddenly, disoriented and with his dream death still firmly seated in his mind. It took a full couple of seconds for him to realise he was seated on his throne. He glanced around the huge natural cavern that he'd made his home for the last 300 turns. The soft red glow of lava gave the place an eerie glow as well as keeping the cavern as hot as he liked it. Few of his servants could tolerate the heat and fumes here in the throne room for long. Deritomas liked it this way and he often had servants file in and stay until they passed out or died, just for some modicum of entertainment. He was a Demon and didn't need company or companionship, not even of other Demons these days, but long turns without much to do weighed on his mind. Distraction and entertainment was hard to come by.

   The dream left him angry and he roared for his attendant.  The misshapen manlike creature rushed in from a darkened opening in the cavern wall. "Your Eminence?" A corrupted Apharalies giant captured a hundred turns or so ago, twisted to serve the very thing it came here to destroy, its body and soul deformed and remade in the Demon's own image. The sight of it pleased Deritomas for a moment. The Apharalies were the creation of that very creature he hated most in this world or any other, Ceitus. The Apharalies were at one time giants among the mortals, with long life and incredible power and fortitude, once twisted to serve Demon kind, they made excellent servants.

   "Bring me prisoners! I have a desire to punish mortals!" His voice made the cavern shake and stones fell from the walls and ceiling. 

Halmond maneuvered the little cart through the streets away from the house. Narrow streets wound through neighborhoods of similar houses parallel to the shore. The large, hairy goat pulling the cart seemed to be as much in charge as Halmond was as it took a sharp turn here and there and stopped at larger streets to wait until carts, wagons and people on foot passed on the cross street. Rishmond's head turned every which way to take in the multitude of new sights. Strange men and women with snake bodies instead of legs below their waist, beastmen of all sorts; lions, foxes, wolves, and bears, and others Rishmond couldn't even begin to identify. He fired an almost constant whispered string of questions at Halmond at first.

   He knew beastmen of course, well more knew of them, he'd seen them on the streets in Mott, but never this variety and never walking free among humans as these did.  Some even called out and waved at Halmond as if they were friendly! The Church and the Arrangement kept close tabs on beastmen and considered them second class citizens. Rishmond was amazed to see them out in the open being treated like regular people.

   The snake people Halmond called Altemen and said they were not beastmen but a different type of person altogether. He explained that they came from a place far away called The Reaches and that most of them were very good at mining and also very good at creating beautiful objects with stones he called gems. Rishmond was fascinated at the way they moved, their human like body sort of floating above their snake body that twisted and slithered down the street or up a flight of stairs. Their bodies were short and thick but their long snake part made them seem much taller then they were.

   The little cart passed by open squares where groups of people gathered shopping at open stalls and carts overflowing with flowers or vegetables or things Rishmond couldn't identify in passing. Every glimpse of these markets amazed Rishmond just by the sheer amount of food he saw and the seeming frivolity of it all.  It seemed like every place they passed was celebrating some grand holiday. Halmond assured Rishmond it was not a holiday, but just another normal day in Retinor.

   Halmond directed the little cart through the city streets toward the docks. The cityscape was becoming more industrial here, shops and warehouses lined the wide, smooth, stone streets. Elevated walkways lined the street on both sides and people of all shapes and sizes walked up and down on these walkways. The attitude of the people Rishmond saw along the streets seemed to change here, less fun, more focused and businesslike. The smells changed as well, gone was the background smell of flowers and freshbaked bread, replaced with woodsap, oil, and leather. Occasionally the strong smell of pinesap and the taste of oatmeal would mask the other smells around Rishmond.

   They arrived finally at a long squat, stone building not far from the docks. Three large covered wagons were lined up at the far end of the building near the doors there. A large number of people Rishmond recognized as the sailors and crew from the Dutchess' Teat were exiting the wagons and entering the building. A number of soldiers wearing white, silver and gold watched or helped move the ragged group of men and boys into the building.

   Halmond steered the little cart toward the middle of the building and the double doors there at the top of a wide set of steps. This appeared to be the main or guest entrance and the doors at either end of the wide front of the building looked to be more utilitarian. A large decorative shield with a golden firebird in flight painted on it hung above the doors. Halmond hitched the goat's reins to one of the posts along the street a little way down from the double doors. Rishmond dismounted from the little cart and moved around behind it to attempt to remain hidden from the crew at the other end of the building.

   "Halmond. That's them. That's the crew from the ship." Rishmond's voice was a hoarse stage whisper. "If they see me I know I will be in big trouble. Do you think Toby is here as well? Maybe I can just sneak in among them and they won't know I was missing? I don't care if I'm punished, I can take it. Toby can't be punished, its not his fault, he's too young..., " his voice trailed off. Rishmond was truly scared, more for Toby than for himself. 

   "Come now, Rishmond, its gonna all be alright," Halmonds quiet voice and the fact he was keeping himself between Rishmond and the group down the street did little to make that a comforting statement. "Let's go on inside. I've an old friend here who can help us out."

   Halmond led Rishmond up the small set of steps to the double doors, Halmond carefully keeping Rishmond as much from view of the group at the other end of the building as he could. They stepped through the doors and into the building, entering a large multi-story room lit from far above by a giant chandelier. Their footsteps echoed against the expanse of bare stone floor and the unadorned stone walls. Several small archways opened onto hallways to the left and right side of the space. A large archway directly across from the doors they'd entered through opened onto a single story common area with a carpeted floor and several comfortable looking couches and chairs set about the room.  Large windows on the far wall of that room let in the sunlight.

   A small desk sat in the middle of the entry room, behind which sat a very large lion-man. His shoulders were broad and covered with brown fur, his chest was barrel like and muscular, covered in tan fur. Each of his arms was bigger around than both of Rishmond's legs. His lion face was framed by a golden-brown mane. Rishmond almost stumbled at the sight of this huge lion beastman.

   "Lieutenant Norft!" Halmond boomed, his voice echoing off the walls. "It's been a while, my friend!"

   The lion-man stood from the sturdy, thick stool on which he sat. Rishmond noted the pin on this sash, above his heart, a firebird in flight just like that above the doors outside. He glanced to Halmond's face. Halmond looked back with an encouraging smile, his hand resting on Rishmond's right shoulder.

   "Halmond," the lion-man's voice was much more reserved but no less pleased than Halmond. "It has indeed been a while." His voice was a deep, pleasant baritone, pronouncing each word carefully with a slow measured pace. Norft moved around the desk, amazingly graceful for all of his seven feet tall. He and Halmond through their arms about each other as old friends do.

   "It is good to see you, my old friend. How's Beritrude?" Lieutenant Norft stood back from Halmond a bit, looking him up and down as if to find differences apparent from years apart. "Has she left you yet for a man more worthy of her affections?" 

   "No!" laughed Halmond, "I seem to have her blinded to my faults and shortcomings. That or she cannot resist the life offered by my wealth and riches!"

   "Did you say health and fishes?" The smile on the lion-man's face was not a comfort to Rishmond.  The lieutenant was dangerous and Rishmond couldn't help but think of what might happen if he were to make an enemy of this man. Not that he had any desire to do that. "You do look as healthy as ever, and you smell of fish. How a woman as smart as she stays around you is a mystery to us all."

   Halmond smiled broadly and landed a full punch on the broad chest of the lion-man. "Reasons matter not, she does continue to stay with me and is happy.  Way more than you've accomplished in your sorry love life, you harry sod."

   "I cannot argue with that. Married to the Phoenix company I am." Both men paused for a long moment, "You are missed around here Top." Norft's voice sounded a bit melancholy. Rishmond relaxed a little, the two men genuinely seemed to be friends. Still, being on your guard even when you thought things were going well could keep a person alive in Rishmond's experience.

   "Lieutenant, this is Rishmond," Halmond placed a hand on Rishmond's shoulder. "He fell from a Warlock's portal into the sea near where I was fishing about 3 hours ago." He paused for a moment, waiting. "Something to do with the Warlock aboard a ship in our harbor called the Dutchess' Teat?"

   Norft's lips curled back away from his teeth sending Rishmond's heart racing at the fierce countenance. His voice was controlled and he spoke at the same careful, measured pace as before. "Tybour will be wanting to speak with this young man then. And it was his desire that our guests from the Arrangement not be made aware of the boy until we can get some answers." 

   Norft glanced around the room, taking in all of the archways leading off of the entry hall. "Tybour is at the Healing Center at Waystone. Take this boy to him and avoid those idiots from the Arrangement."

   Just as Norft finished speaking three men entered from the far left archway. "I need to speak to the person in charge. We are missing men, you've accounted for the dead and we are still missing many of our crew! What is being done to find them?" The man in red and gold robes was becoming agitated, his voice rising in both pitch and volume.

   "As I said before, sir, we are doing everything in our power to find and bring any missing men here if they are alive and to the nearby morgue if they are dead. We know some number were taken..."

   The priest cut off what the soldier was saying. "Not enough! Our men must be found at once! Charge Priest Suffé will NOT be pleased at your lack of urgency in this matter!" It seemed pretty obvious to Rishmond watching from across the room and mostly behind Halmond that what the sub priest really meant was that Charge Priest Suffé would be most displeased with this specific sub priest. That would mean Suffé's ire would be taken out on him.

   "Brother Kord," Captain Talisan said brightly, smiling at the soldier with them and placing his hand roughly on the back of the neck of the priest, "please maintain your calm. I am certain these good people are doing everything they can. They have taken us in, are repairing our ship and are providing us room and board while we wait." All three men stopped and faced each other in a tense triangle.

   "You should go." Norft rumbled quietly toward Halmond and Rishmond. "Take him to Tybour." Norft turned toward the tense threessome and moved off toward them, away from Halmond and Rishmond.

   "Come." Halmond's voice was quiet but urgent. He turned toward the door, guiding Rishmond in front of him and out to the steps. "Get in the cart and keep your head down." He glanced down toward Rishmond's face and was shocked to see a dark-haired boy with a crooked smile and a face very much like his own. He stopped for a second before the vision in front of him flickered for a moment and the illusion was made obvious. The boy in front of him was still Rishmond, but an illusion disguised the boy as his two turns-dead son, Pillip. It took him a moment to recover as the illusion wrapped Rishmond continued down the steps to the little cart a ways up the street.  Halmond followed quickly, heart and mind racing.

   Once aboard the little cart, Halmond set the goat to pulling the cart in a tight circle back the way they had come, avoiding the light traffic on the street and setting the cart on its way at a brisk pace. He was careful to not stare at the boy beside him until they had rounded a corner out of sight of any of Rishmond's old crew.

   Rishmond slumped low on the little bench seat of the cart. The captain had looked straight at him there across the room.  He had to have recognised Rishmond. Why had he not said anything? Maybe he was just not important enough to be considered one of the crew they were looking for? Did he look so different clean and in different clothes that he wasn't recognisable? He looked up at Halmond, "Did they see me? Will they be after me now?"

   Halmond answered slowly and carefully, "I don't believe they would have recognized you even had they come over to talk to you. Do you know what illusion is Rishmond?"

   "Ye-es," stuttered Rishmond. "I think so.  Magic used to make something look like something else. A sorta disguise?"

   "That's it. A disguise made of magic. Not a magic I can do, in fact, I can't do much magic at all, just a little use of lotret.  For convincing illusions that are more than just for fun or entertainment, it takes a Wizard with training and more than a little strength in magic. Have you ever seen it in person?  An illusion?"

   "No." Rishmond was wondering what this had to do with the Captain and whether or not he recognized Rishmond back at the soldier's barracks. "I've never seen any Wizarding. Back in Mott it wasn't allowed. The Church says magic is reserved for the Gods and only those blessed with permission from the Church can use it, and only for Church or holy purposes. Folks caught using it that were not priests got taken."

   "I see.  Yes, The Arrangement is pretty strict about that.  Malminar has a different view of magic. I'll be happy to tell you all about that, and as much as I can about how other people throughout the world view magic as well, at least as much as I know.  Can't say I am an overly educated man, but I can tell you that Beritrude knows a whole lot more than I do.  She's a teacher you know."

   "Yes, sir. I think I understand, but what does that have to do with the Captain and whether they'll be coming after me? I..I.. don't... really want to go back." His voice broke as he realized he really didn't want to return to the ship or to Mott, or have anything to do with any of where he'd come from.

   "I know, Rishmond." Halmonds voice was filled with concern and something else Rishmond couldn't really identify. "I tell you what.  If you want, you never have to go back to them ever again, or return to The Arrangement of Peace or The Church of Peace.  If you want, you could stay here, with Berti and I.  If you want."

   Rishmond peered up at Halmond, eyes beginning to fill with tears. The thought of staying here, with people who seemed to care and did not want to use him or punish him, or force him to do terrible things. To not worry from day to day if this would be his last. The thought of Toby scared and alone, sailing away with the awful people of that crew suddenly struck him and Rishmond blurted out at Halmond, "Toby!  We have to get Toby!  He has to stay too! I..I can't leave him alone with those.. people." He didn't even know what to call them anymore.

   "Yes!  Of course!  Toby can stay too.  Did you see him among those at the barracks?" Halmond's tone was firm and reassuring.

   "No.  I didn't see him.  He could have been there and I just didn't see him.  We have to go back to see!" Rishmond turned on the little bench as if looking back he could see beyond the streets and buildings and find Toby through sheer will.

   "Whoa. Calm down. Let's go see Tybour, as Norft said.  If anyone can help us locate Toby, he can. he is the greatest Wizard in Malminar. With him on our side, there is nothing we can't do."

   Rishmond sat forward on the bench, one hand tucked under Halmonds right arm, a sense of comfort and purpose suddenly came over him. "Yes. Let's do that then. We will rescue Toby and we will stay here, with you and Berti." The nickname Halmond used for his wife came easily to Rishmond's lips. "Today we start a new life.  A better life."