Marjorie
**'Drinks on the house!'**An uproar broadcasted from the direction of the bar keeper, raising a mug of ale in joy, as the room lifted its spirits. Shouting, yelling, drinking, and dancing as the night faded away in the ambience of heavy liquor.
 The lone Akasha found herself on a stool adjacent to the window. From outside of the solitary bar were the lush out lands of vast green planes and oval hills. Covered in the shroud of darkness as the moon gazed at the glistening surface with its white haze. The ambience of the tavern was much more quaint and quiet, old folks who had watched many before them pass and leave a thousand times over; locals from nearby farms who had settled and taken over the farms of their predecessors. This part of the Mentia kingdom was faraway from the capital, from the politics and the violence. It was a peaceful residence in which a drink at night was shared by all ages, big, and small. Through it all the atmosphere was encapsulated by the light melodies of a lone piano man. The same tunes he would play every night, taking requests for free and refusing tips.
**SCREAM!**
 The wholesome mood was shattered by a blood curdling screams. Disturbed, many patrons found themselves falling over and shocked as they each got onto their toes and rendered whatever alertness they could. This is perhaps best illustrated by one man frantically turning whilst simultaneously drawing his sword, only to then loose his grip to the blade having it smash trough and exit the building, afterward then coming to a complete rotation only to have his now freed hand clasp onto the handle of another mug. The piano man collected his hat and rushed outside, the man then called the room outside; each scrambling like a swarm of bees coming out of one hive. The piano man held the panicked woman as she pointed to the distance over a rolling hull.

They all looked and stood awestruck as in the distance a raging torrent burned and pillaged. The night was still young, but the sun had come out through the inferno of a distant fire over the horizon.
 *'What was that..'*
 *'Should we help-'*
 *'That thing's burning up.'*
 This moment was *Hers to decide*. Everyone around her was flabbergasted and frozen, the unruly hardy men too drunk to stand and the tendered women gasping in shock. Perhaps there were people there, no it didn't matter if she knew; *Someone had to go*. Some had to be the hero to rescue the damsel in distress from the raging dragon that kept her in a tower. *This moment called to her*, and was ready to be received by a daring adventurer or a fearsome warrior. The piano man then collapsed, laying into his knees as he came to the realisation it had been from his homestead's direction. Suddenly tears swelled from his face as he caught them in his hands.
 **'Oh please, no- Please don't be home my daughter!'** That was the final string, a pleading call from a desperate father who was helpless to save their stranded kin.
Herman
*The swirling noises collectively roared by every patron of that tavern can be likened to fumes of smoke. It finds its way across the premise, rising upwards, filling and thickening the air. The rambunctious spectacle displayed on almost all around its cramped quarters. However, the lone maiden kept her sight straight. Her eyes glinted courtesy of the peeking beam of moonlight. Its warm radiance seeps through the window, reflecting her cold greyish-blue visage. Her gaze is fixed upon a gold coin, held between her slender fingers.*
 
*A noticeable berth extends between the table she occupies and the other patrons. The festive mood is shared amidst drunkards and old farmers. Neighbouring farm rivals, disliked cynical old crones, all animosity and feud seems to be forgotten momentarily by the grace of flowing alcohol and laughter. And yet, they abstain from staring — let alone approach Akasha's proximity. Such treatment would normally be unwarranted, even being an armed outsider she is. Nevertheless, the very cause of those avoiding gaze and hushed tone is not lost to her.*
 
*"Drink on the house..." She whispered inside her thoughts, fingers closing in, concealing the coin inside her hand. "I wonder what's the occasion." She continues her musing. Her eyes trailed to the side, glancing at the uproar, demanding her attention. It comes in contact with one of the patrons, who promptly avoids her gaze. She exhaled sharply. It's not as if she was expecting a different reaction. Her sight dropped below, towards the uniform which she sports. Of course. Simple farmers and common folks from the countryside would be wary. Questions and apprehension bubbles in their mind, when faced with the symbol of the Church Order.*
 
"?"

_ _
*Her attention shifted instantly as the tune of the piano was broken by that hair-raising scream. She remains seated, however, observing the windows as the crowds unfurl into a chaotic mess as they rush outside. Until a glint of fiery, wrathful orange began to taint the surface of that glass window. Akasha put the coin inside her pocket and stood up, walking to the door. She strides behind the last remnants of curious people. She halted her steps away from the rest of the crowds. Pondering, assessing, watching the inferno wreaked havoc in the horizon, akin to cruel sunrise. Be as good natured as she may, she is not a fool who would charge into the unknown without attempting to think rationally first; what has happened?*
 
-my daughter!
 
*Yet, such a cry of desperation is all needed. Akasha lifts her right hand to her chest, moving in a gesture she has done countless times before, the sign of the cross. She closed her eyes as her lips shaped the words of a prayer.*
 
"May the Lord guide my path."
 
*She reopened her eyes. At the same time, her left hand performs an unfamiliar gesture to the common eyes – a magical inscription formed on thin air, glowing in a warm golden hue. **"Augere."** Her mouth whispers an incantation. The magical formula disappeared, as she lowered her body and tensed her leg. In the next moment, Akasha springed forward, sending debris of cracked earth behind. The gathered crowd watched in awe as the tailwind from the motion hit their face.*

*She rapidly gains speed as she dashed straight to the distant fire, as swift as galloping warhorse. Nearing the site of the disaster, she began to slow her pace down. While her shoulder is tense, her visage remained calm and collected as she carefully scanned along the scene. Her priority is decidedly to find and save whoever might be trapped within the barrier of the flame.*
Donald
. After an uneventful sprint through open countryside, and even having to fence hop through farm plots, Akasha would arrive seemingly a dollar short and a day late. She found herself a horrifying scene of an isolated house set asunder. Gone were the white washed walls which had melted like candle wax, collapsed was the roof which at one point must have been finely constructed with overlapping tiles. The entire rotten structure was now in the midst of collapsing. The perpetrators on the other hand, were as clear as pocket thieves caught in broad daylight. Ten armed individuals draped in leather studded armour and each with a torch in one hand with their appropriate armament in the other. They held crossbows, long spears, short spears, maces and swords. They were clearly no ordinary bandits, and were not beast folk on the path of war. The only question that remained: *Why, what was the goal of these raiders in burning down this homestead, in the middle between nowhere and a destination?*. 
 *'Did we get it?'* One of them said, *'I swear, I hit it in the head-'*
 *'No that was mine!'*, the other beside him howled.
 **'Shut Up!''** Beckoned the senior amongst them, 'If it was this easy she would've been dead by now.'

. *She?* By logic of elimination the only suspect in mind would have to be the damsel in distress. Yet, that only begs more confusion considering the later statement. A town girl could not have been difficult to kill, yet why bring ten armed mercenaries. The burning crisp embers dancing like a kindred wildfire, seldom can their beauty be found in destruction that didn't allude to the atrocities. Black smoke seeped into the air to become all but invisible in the darkness, yet its choking intensity swept the area just as harshly as it would in broad daylight. Floorboards buckled and ceilings loosened as piece by piece the home was being devoured by smog.
 *'Aren't vampires weak to flames? Surely **Even she would be dead by now** . . . Trust me I can smell her corpse*'-
 **GURGH!** 
 The man gurgled, revealing to the others beside him a sudden thrown blade which found his neck, *But it could only have been from that burning house*.
 As the man collapsed, losing life, the other men reacted automatically, assembling in a staggered formation to block themselves from the angles of the burning doorway. Apart from the reflections this death called up in each of them about transfers and possible changes at 'work' that might result from it, the very fact of the death of a close acquaintance called up in all those who hear of it, as always, *A feeling of joy that it was 'he' who was dead and not 'I'*. 'You see, he's dead, and I'm not,' each of them thought or felt. Of course, this was the conscious aspect of it all. What was yet to be expressed was the involuntary twitch felt on the back of each of their spines. The survival instinct called 'Run, get out of here as far away as you can,' although these were trained mercenaries, professionals whose line of work had apparently seen death as so mundane if not simply part of the job. All this is to say, that these people meant business, and the death of a comrade was not something to hinder nor worry them.
Herman
*The moment her eyes are set upon the armed men, Akasha reflexively ducked. She approached a stack of hay nearby quietly, blending her presence with the night behind the cast shadow of the roaring fire. Making sure that men are within her earshot, she concentrated to sharpen her hearing while peeking at the scene from behind the hay. Depressing crackling of the house as it was licked by the flame echoes in the night. She needs to quickly decide the next course of action – lest, if there are still any people alive inside the house, they would soon be beyond saving.*
 
*"Vampire?" She repeated in her mind, as one of the men mentioned it.*
 
*Akasha bits her lips. As expected, these men definitely differ from the common banditry. Aside from the fact that they are both well equipped and armed, they also seem to possess an unconventional objective. She finds her hand is hovering on the top of her sword's hilt. Whatever it is their origin, the situation alone suggests that they are not the type to conform with any kind of law nor justice – setting ablaze an innocent folk home without regard. It's within her interest to quickly subdue them and save whoever is inside. Yet, facing ten armed men in a direct confrontation by herself is too risky.*
 
"!?"
 
*Her breathing tensed, as suddenly one of them drops to the ground, blood pooling beneath him. Unless her mind plays tricks on her, she momentarily caught a glint of metal flying from that house before it happened. "Is this the one they are hunting?" She thought, unable to think of any other viable explanation. However, the unexpected event had presented upon her a window of opening. The men seem to be trained, as they are able to swiftly react, devising a formation against whatever lurking behind the fire. But it left them behind unguarded and open. Their nerves are entirely focused on intercepting threats in front of them.*

_ _
***Nine***
 
*Akasha whispered an incantation. A brown magical circle appeared in front of her tracing finger of her left hand. While her right hand is tracing a distinctively different circle, shining in golden light.*
 
***Crack***
 
*Without needing a cue, she springed forward from her hiding spot. Her left hand executed the first spell. The men are not wary of the danger lurking behind them – realising it too late, as their feet suddenly sunken into the ground. It has turned into a mulch of muddied earth, hampering their movement. Akasha continued to close their distance from one side. A blinding golden light enveloped them, as promptly, the second spell was cast. It blasted four men with a strong burst of searing radiant magic.*
 
***Slash***
 
*Before the men who are fortunate enough to stand outside the range of her second spell can shake off the sudden bright light, one of them has their view of the world soon turned upside down. His head dropped to the ground with a thud. His blood dyed the honorary knight's sword crimson, warm drops splattered across her cheek. It is quite unfortunate, but she cannot afford the time to make sure that all of them are alive. Such softness in the midst of a battle against experienced men like these would only cost her life. She doesn't require all of them to be alive for questioning anyway.*
 
"May the Lord have mercy on your soul." *She mutters a prayer.*
 
***Four***
 
*The girl doesn't halt her advance, swiftly continuing to aim at the remaining undamaged men. While she is confident that her speed should be far superior than theirs, even with the fact that they would be considerably slowed down by the muddied earth beneath their feet, she still eyes them with caution. 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.' She hoped that whoever launched the first offensive earlier – this 'vampire' would aid her. If not, the very least she can do is to stay clear out of her way.*
Donald
. A whispering darkness seethed from the burning ashes. By now, the smothering flames had been harbouring a sleeping beast. Like a monster in its cave, it had been provoked by a thrown rock at its feet. Step by step, the demoness calmly marched, wading through a sea of fire and cinder, her armour blackened by the charred visceral remains of what was, and now what is gone.
 Akasha found herself having to momentarily withdraw her assault, finding a fury of lightning propelling herself backward, as the men of war recuperated their formation. Despite the success of her initial blitz, the sheer overwhelming number advantage of her enemies dawned on her nevertheless. The men she had struck remained dazzled by her magic, but the senior with a stern voice had swiftly reacted to her incursion, aiming a loaded crossbolt toward her. It was clear this was more so to intimidate her to not strike further, not wanting to risk missing or hitting her armour giving her the chance to retaliate. 
 *'Shit! Fall back we're taking too many casualties,'* The senior of them barked. 
 It was by this point that the boogeyman had come out of the closet. The black figure was shaped to that of a knight, but was clearly not one of noble hierarchy. Encased in a blanket of flames, it forced a wheeze from the floorboards with its weight, stepping out of the doorway to face Akasha, then the group. The black knight stood with a smirk of malevolence. Its armour was that of midnight, foreign and fully plated. It was juxtaposed to that of Akasha's own set, as if morphed and perverted. A black scorched cape followed it wherever it went, hung to her left arm in a half cloak, resting down its back. Its face was moulded like that of a human skull, fitted in a metal jaw, with two winged protrusions like horns. It was a *Black Demon*, a figure perhaps far beyond what the estranged knight was expecting; this was certainly not a damsel in distress.

*'Focus your flames on the vampire, keep the other at bay with bolts.'* The man lastly ordered, collecting his men to arrange themselves in a position away from both Akasha and the black knight with the initial stunned men now retreating back to form a line.
 Despite the slaughter that had recently befell these bounty hunters, up to this point they had remained coordinated, cohesive, in control. The expression left by the demon had left one of the thugs to quiver, losing his grip before tripping on his shoe. Before the dominos fell, the senior amongst them quickly pulled him by the sleeve and scolded him in the eye, the demon still eyeing them in the background.
 *'Don't you see, she's right there, **The beast that murdered your kin boy!** This is your chance to avenge your parents, you told me this was the reason you came, so get off your ass and do your job!'* The man lectured before slowly having the group withdraw step by step away from both combatants.
 The mysterious knight batted its attention from the group and toward Akasha, holding a strange serpentine spear a head above her height in her right, flanked by a titanic tower shield which could cover her entire body on her left. Dragging the shield against the wooden terrace, the figure slowly eyed Akasha with a faceless glare. The skulled helmet held an empty expression, the slits on her visor too narrow and miniscule as to formulate any form of humanity from within inside. *Was this being even alive?*. Invasively, a feminine pitch then met its way outside to confront her.
 `'Do you know the difference between life and Death?'`