text: [Themes: fantasy, anti-hero]
  
  This late at night, there are no guards milling around outside the city. Your band of would-be freedom fighters ascend the stone steps up to the city gates, completely unnoticed. When you reach the gates, you see two guards ahead; one is watching a firefly intently as it floats around his face, while the other has fallen asleep while standing up.
  
  You unsheathe your sword and rush forward, stabbing the firefly guard through the chest. He lets out a blood-tinged gasp of mingled shock and pain, before slumping over. You pull your sword out of his chest and swing at the sleeping guard, whose head rolls to the ground before he can even wake up. "Open the gates," you order the others, and they move to do so.
  
  The sound of wood grinding against stone greets your ears as the gates are opened. After a moment, they're open enough for you to slip through. Looking around, you see that only a few people roam the city streets, most of them guards. You turn your head over your shoulder to address the group, "If I look like I'm in trouble, come help. Otherwise, stay back." With those words, you charge at the nearest guard with a swing.
  
  You cut down a few guards before they even notice you're there. Once they do, however, shouting breaks the silence of the night as they alert each other to your presence. One grabs a whistle and blows it, the sharp sound tearing through the city streets. Whatever civilians are around quickly run away... And you notice a few refugees taking the opportunity to bolt as well.
  
  Damn those cowards! You should have figured, though: they're just peasants without a lot in life. They're not willing to die for their freedom. Hell, you're not even sure why you're fighting their fight... But you aren't one to quit something when you've started.
  
  You continue to fight. Of the two hundred refugees that were fit to fight, a grand total of twenty stuck with you, with Rupert among them. The rest fled deeper into the city or back to the camp. It doesn't matter; what does matter right now is getting to the Count's manor and taking it down.
  
  You continue to fight through the streets for what seems like days, but in truth was only about an hour. You cut down any guards that attacked, and the others watched your flanks and defended you when any got past your defenses. It works well as a system, but all good things must come to an end. One by one, your allies drop to the guards.
  
  By the time you reach the Count's manor, four of you remain: yourself, Rupert, and two men you learn are named Karl and Frank. You don't bother with subtlety when you reach the metal gate in front of the Count's manor. Raising your blade up high, you slam it down upon the lock keeping it closed once, twice, three times, before it splits wide open and opens the way.
  
  The moon illuminates the manor, casting a shadow on your quartet. No guards are there to greet you, which is strange. Looking around the courtyard leading into the manor, you notice a collection of barrels. Curious, you approach them, and read the labels on them.
  
  They read "gunpowder".
  
  You find yourself grinning. This will help. "You three, grab a barrel and throw it inside." The others quickly move to help you, picking them up and heading to the door. You open it for them, finding it unlocked, and they begin to throw the barrels into the entrance hall.
  
  Once most of the barrels are inside, you grab the last one and pull the cork off the top. You drain a line of gunpower out of it, leading from the door to where the barrels are placed. Then, you exit the manor and pull out your tinderbox. The flames burst forth, and the trail of gunpowder ignites, moving slowly to the barrels. You take the chance to run in the opposite direction.
  
  A moment later, there is a loud explosion, and the manor is set ablaze. Still, you keep on guard. There weren't any guards around, which is strange. As you're comtemplating, Rupert, Karl, and Frank are celebrating. "Lighten up, lad! We blew up the Count and his damned manor! The city's free!"
  
  "Not quite."
  
  You look up to see a man consumed by flames, floating above you. He begins to drop down, and you instantly roll backwards. The man on fire lands on top of Frank, smashing through his head and completely obliterating it. Karl and Rupert back away in terror.
  
  "I don't appreciate what you did to my home. Die." He raises a hand, and slings a fireball at Karl. The refugee is consumed by flames, screaming all the while. Desperately, he tries to pat them away, but it does no good. He falls to the ground and rolls around in pain, his screeches of sheer agony lasting until his lungs collapse from the fire. Even then he's still alive, if only for a moment longer.
  
  The man on fire turns to you. "You. Die." He slings a fireball your way, but you manage to deflect it with the flat side of your sword. The fireball flies right back at him, and he recoils away from it for only a moment. Still, he laughs. "You think you can kill me with fire? Really?"
  
  He snaps his fingers and the fire subsides. He's naked, athletically built with fair skin. His black hair is messy. Another snap, and now he's fully clothed with hair neatly combed. "Tell me this, peasants. Why did you feel the need to burn down my manor?"
  
  This is the Count.
  
  "Yer a bastard that's corruptin' this fair city with yer stench, that's why!" Rupert answers for you, which makes the Count laugh heartily.
  
  "My, you're something. An old drunk picking a fight he can't possibly win. Amusing." Then, the Count sighs. "Oh well, I'm bored of you." A snap of his fingers, and then Rupert is sent flying into a nearby wall. You shout his name, but the Count turns on you. "... Hm. You look familiar."
  
  "I'm the man who saved this city, you son of a bitch! And I'm gonna do it again!" you shout, readying your sword.
  
  The Count laughs. "Hoho, Sir Kit! I should have known! Come to slay the big bad Count, have we?"
  
  "You're not human! You're a... A monster!"
  
  "Demon, to be specific." He gives you a smug smile.
  
  This son of a bitch, correcting you like you're a simple-minded peasant. You find yourself grinding your teeth together. Unconsciously, your grip on your sword tightens. As you're doing this, your eyes catch Rupert's as he picks himself up. He's still alive, if only barely. You can see the question in his eyes...
  
  He's asking you if you want him to help you out.
  
  > Yes. You need all the help you can get.
  You nod your head, indicating you'd appreciate his help. Rupert gulps slightly, indicating his hesitation, but nods back to you. Slowly, he gets up, approaching the Count with shortsword in hand. You keep the Count busy by attacking him ruthlessly, waiting for Rupert to attack.
  
  After several grueling moments, Rupert reaches the count, aiming his sword for a backstab...
  
  ... But the Count turns around and blows Rupert away with a blast of telekinetic force! Your jaw drops at the sight as Rupert hits the wall hard, blood spurting out of his head. "RUPERT!" you call out. The Count turns back to you. His expression is smug.
  
  A blood-curdling scream of rage flies out of your mouth as you swing relentlessly at the Count. You continue to wail on him, and despite his best efforts, he can't manage to make an attack against you. The only thing keeping him alive is his demonic nature. Any other man would have fallen to this onslaught by now.
  
  You must've been hacking at him for about half an hour when you notice something peeking out of his chest. It's a black orb. His heart.
  
  His heart is exposed. Maybe that's what you need to destroy to kill this monster. So, you continue to attack as you've been doing, and the Count continues trying to defend. Finally, you rear back, and stab his heart with a roar of anger.
  
  The rotting organ explodes in a mess of black ooze when your sword pierces it. Falling to the ground, the Count stares at you in disbelief. Despite your furious attacks that he couldn't defend himself from, he must have figured you'd never be able to kill him.
  
  "Wai-" You don't let him speak, instead slicing his head in half.
  
  With that done, you rush over to Rupert. You expected him to have held out somehow. You could have saved him, or at the very least exchanged some parting words. Instead, you find that he's dead, and probably was not long after he hit that wall. His eyes are widen open. You reach down and close them for him.
  
  You conquered the city. You don't care enough to inform the cowards that sent you on this mission. So, instead, you leave, and never return.
  
  A week after your killing of the Count, you hear news from Sodran while drinking at a pub in a village with no name. The refugees rose up and wiped out the rest of the guards, declaring that the gates to the city were open... However, those who lived within the city were having none of it.
  
  The refugees attempted to claim that you helped them to bolster support. After all, the townsfolk adored you for saving the city in the past. And while you did indeed help them, you didn't stay behind to prove it, and as such the townsfolk had no reason to believe the refugees. The refugees were driven out of the city or killed, and the people of Sodran elected a new count, as the former one had no heirs.
  
  Needless to say, the uprising's victory was rendered moot not long after they took the city. A dark chuckle escapes your lips. Well, can't say you didn't try. You finish your drink, pay the barkeep, then leave the bar.