<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LJX8V3E.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Gregor Donovan</em></strong></div></div>In the studies that had consumed his youth there had been tales of daimōn. Not that the boy at the time had cared for Plato's words or the inspiration of Socrates. But to know there were no connotations of evil or malevolence had been taught only to have the concepts scoured out by rod and staff laid to bare flesh, so that there was no mistaking that all that held power that was not God working directly through them were to be hunted and laid to fire to return them to their Lord and Master of the Pit. Perhaps what had him trussed and thrust to the rough bark was a shedim, or a ..<br/><br/><br/><div align="center"><strong>Did it matter? </strong></div><br/>His blade was useless and as the shadows behaved more like some miasma, thick and full of their own dangerous intention it became clear to him. Gregor was unprepared. His gesticulations were taken from him as the wrist found itself taunt bound, the blood that dripped to the earth such possessed by that which controlled the vines did nothing. Lost was that component of his God given power here. Where even angels must fear to tread, it would seem. Impotent indeed, but impotence did not serve the religious warrior well, as he grit his teeth and hissed out incantations to ward himself, knowing before they even left the lips that they would do good.<br/><br/>Light was stripped and in its place, that which would Be arose from the tendrils of black smoke and ether such a form was crafted, it's appearance indeed strange and majestic, even Gregor could not assume to lie that it was not. The look within those dark rimmed eyes was almost feral in it's nature and the markings gave only the most primal sensations of fear. Not of this realm, not of this earth, not of the sky and not of the water. The blood within the half mortal ran cold as he drew in a hissed breath to that which he heard. She was no victim in this, that maiden he had sought to protect from herself.<br/><br/>Had she been bait? Was he naught but Sampson to be sacrificed bodily for another amusement? Was this what the years of training and supplication had purchased him? Within the leather armor his body flexed, that want to break free meaning if he broke arm to do so, so be it. Fury chased the chill within his veins as his eyes were brought upwards locking with the horned creature, deigning not to even cast gaze to the one who was spoken to in such a lyrical voice. Clench jawed and seething, his own shame at pride and foolishness which had lead to this end bitter in the back of his throat as "It" spoke words to him.<br/><br/><strong>"No man can work for two masters, for either he will hate one and will love the other, or he will honor one and the other he will ignore." </strong>The words were tension hissed from his lips as he quoted the Aramaic translation. The influence of Conri was not lost upon Gregor, nor was the words and sounds of the beauty beside him, the one the creature called Asthore.<strong>"That is one of those truths..and my Master is He who knows all." </strong><br/><br/><strong>"My life  is not my own, Creature. Should you take it from me, so be it as His will. That is what servitude is, is it not?"</strong>The weight of his words were rasped from throat as his eyes turned downwards, the tension seen in his features as those vines provided only the evidence that this may well be his last breaths and last words. Prayers ran through the back of his mind as his palm clenched tight, the dripping crimson soothing to him even if it were  but evidence of his impotence in this situation. Oh, he knew well the Creatures word would be his bond, trickery aside, for what spirit was not trickster by creation and crafting?<br/><br/>But this..this thought is the one that brought pause to him as he turned his gaze upwards to meet those Dark Rimmed eyes.<strong>"My word is my bond as is yours, but it has been given to another first, before you. Unbreakable that is, Creature. But perhaps.."</strong>His breath was ragged as his mind whirled trying to think of a way to survive the situation, unwilling to die not like this, not this cowards death caused by pride and foolishness.<br/><br/><strong>"I accept your offer with the condition that your servitude not hold me from the purpose He has given me. Your orders cannot be in direct violation of the codes by which I am bond and bonded."</strong>Was it enough? Would it be? The each second that moved by seemed to be suffocating, seemed to be pain racked as the bark bit into skin and the vines played their torment and his worth and weight hung within the balances of one not his God, but something all together different.<br/><br/>