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Fred and Astra readied themselves, though they knew that they had almost
no chance against so formidable a foe. What ill chance had brought it
here? Had some evil necromancer conjured it - and the lesser demons that
they had managed to defeat - into the mortal realm? Not that they had much
time to ponder these questions.
But then their luck took a sudden turn for the better. "Avaunt, foul fiend!" a loud voice cried. Though their campsite was, as far as they could tell, in the middle of nowhere, into the firelight strode a short, corpulent, middle-aged man wearing a monk's habit. He held aloft a large cross in both hands. The demon lord drew back, apparently afraid of this unimpressive figure - or perhaps of the holy symbol that he carried. "I've got a flask of holy water and I'm not afraid to use it," the newcomer said. At that, the demon turned and ran. "Thank you, Father. We are deeply in your debt," Fred said. "I am merely a Brother, my child. And there is no debt. I merely did what I must." "How did you know to come here?" Astra asked.
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1/6/2006 1:16:22 PM
Extending Enabled
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