The Heavenly Host

Ruiden glanced at the chairman of the Council. “It is not an accusation. It is a statement of proven fact.”

Gandros gave his head a small shake. “What do you mean, ‘proven fact’?”

“You note,” Ruiden said, “that I am glowing brightly at this moment?”

“Yes.” Several councilors nodded in agreement.

“You all note that I did not glow in any of your presences?” Ruiden asked. The councilors all nodded.

“This is because none of you are demons. I am glowing like this because I am in the presence of a demon — a very powerful demon,” Ruiden said.

“Enough! This is ridiculous!” Exador shouted. “Talarius could turn you on and off at will!”

“I am not sure how you would know that, Councilor,” the sword stated. “However, Talarius is not here. That is why I am conducting this investigation.”

“Why should we believe you? How do we know you are not glowing in order to accuse Exador?” Randolf asked, playing devil’s advocate — about as literally as possible, Randolf thought, chuckling to himself.

Exador nodded in appreciation at him. “Because I was forged as a demon-slaying sword. Identifying and slaying demons is my principal purpose,” Ruiden stated. Several people gasped and more than a few councilors stepped back.

“In short, I know a demon when it is in my presence. Even as I recognize the other extra-planar beings running around the city.”

Exador snorted. “Other extra-planar beings?” He turned to the other councilors. “This is nonsense. I will not stand here and listen to these lies.” He was very angry at this point. “We have agreed on a system; we will stick to it.”

“At this point, I have not verified that you are responsible for the demon that kidnapped Talarius; therefore, I have no need to prove you are a demon. I simply need to ask you some questions as to your involvement with that demon and the incidents leading up to Talarius’s abduction,” Ruiden said. “However, if it would help to clarify things, I can have Arch-Diocate Iskerus bring the Holy Mirror of Erastimus to us.” Ruiden looked to the other councilors. “It is the mirror that Talarius used to detect the demon infestation; I trust that its credibility and accuracy have been satisfactorily proven?”

Exador threw up his hands. “This is complete nonsense. We cannot trust Tiernon’s priest’s magical artifacts!”

“The mirror did prove to be remarkably accurate,” Jehenna said.

“Perhaps we should have Iskerus just bring it and be done with this issue here and now,” Tureledor said.

“I agree,” Davron seconded.

“I am a Councilor of Wizardry; I do not need to stand for this treatment!” Exador said, spinning to march away.

Ruiden was suddenly in front of the mage; he had moved there faster than Randolf’s eyes could follow. “Councilor, given your recalcitrance in answering my questions, I fear I must insist on obtaining your word for scheduling an interview, or engage in one now. We can go somewhere more private.”

“I refuse to be intimidated by a stupid artifact!” Exador waved his left arm and suddenly Ruiden was flying through the air, crashing hard into one of the columns lining the foyer.

“Exador, there is no need for violence!” Gandros shouted, even as the sound of some sort of air vortex started to drown the archimage out.

As if in slow motion, Randolf saw what appeared to be an insanely large, four-pronged glaive, spinning clockwise through the air, fly across the room from the column into which Ruiden had been thrown. The glaive, moving at whirlwind speed, cleaved Exador in two at the waist and continued on to crash into the top of an archway on the opposite side of the room.

Randolf had not even been able to process it in real time; it was only after the loud crashing that he had been able to understand what had happened. People began screaming and running for cover even as the roar of a loud fire rising from where Exador’s two halves had fallen drowned out the screams.

There was a huge blaze where Exador had fallen; out from that blaze stepped a re-formed Exador. The wizard was now fully clad in his infamous war regalia: his highly ornate and archaic blackish-purple armor, horned great helm and large black sword.

“You have chosen the wrong battle, sword!” Exador shouted in rage.

“Crispin, get your ass and the gear up here now!” Randolf shouted through his link to the djinn.

“Lenamare! Get the wards up!” Tureledor shouted.

Gandros spun to the guards, who were scrambling to figure out what to do. “Sound the alert, evacuate the palace immediately! Get everyone out and away from the palace! Clear the surrounding areas of the city!”

Randolf cast the djinn-taught spell to summon his staff; whirling dust from all over the room rose and moved towards him, coalescing into the form of his staff. As he did this, he noted Jehenna leading Lenamare to the edge of the foyer, Lenamare obviously distracted trying to reach out to the members of the warding team.