Under the rocky hills of the outer countryside, buried deep beneath the peaceful green soil that spanned over miles upon miles of forests and homage to fauna, lied a dark cistern, shrouded in shadows and long forgotten by those who unwittingly tread upon it. Well beyond hundreds of years, this wretched cave housed all manner of abominations, freaks of nature, those tainted by the Void and transmutated beyond all recognition, but it had never before been blighted by a Demon; a foul creation of carnage and destruction. The local village had felt the effects of lingering evil. At night, the sons and daughters of townfolk would inescapably vanish. Sometimes, their parents would find their gored remains, but most were not so fortunate. They had convinced themselves that the corruption which ran amok in the leadership of this humble hamlet had become their own curse, and some vengeful spirit had come to extort them of their well-being in merciless retribution. Their woes had been met with indifference by the local ruler, and no vagrant knight deemed their plights worthy enough to investigate. With ill other option, the townsfolk declared a call for a Sihndar Demon Hunter, praying that their pleas would be heard. And they were answered. In the dark of the night, when sun had left its place for the gleaming moon and honest people had long abandoned the streets, the splashing of soiled water in the dark cistern echoed and awoke the determined Demon. A silhouette emerged from the shadows, his leather-clad figure treading the foul waters of the reeking cave, and his gleaming Silven eyes of molten gold blaring in their glow through the deep dark. Had any not known better, they'd of assumed him to be the very Demon that haunted their days and nights. After all, the stories in Ithanian hivres spoke of handsome knights in bright white armor; never a coal haired Dark Elf in pitch black gear, with a snarl so foul it could scare away the mightiest golem. The brave Sihndar stood in the center of the dark cavern, listening intently at the swishing of water at his feet as he felt the approaching danger. A sudden burst of waves sent the purple warrior into a tumble, as the Demon revealed itself, emerging from the depths of the bleak pond. An eight-legged and excessively hairy arachnid, bearing bright yellow eyes on each of its ball-jointed limbs. The creature emitted a loud screech, its pain-inducing vocals reverberating through the entire region. The Demon Hunter gritted his teeth, extending his hand towards his side and summoning his trusty Khopesh in hand, the rusted sickle-sword which had journeyed with him since he was a young trainee. "Ugly bastard," Xazrec spat. He charged the beast, leaping off his heel and starting to take hacks and slashes at the arachnids hairy legs. Ichorous blood painted the rocks as the Demon Spider was assaulted by its hunter, and unleashed a flurry of attacks upon the Sihndar, blasting the black armored warrior from one side of the cave to the other. Heaved down by the weight of his chestplate, Xazrec launched a mouthful of blood from his maw and painstakingly recollected himself, only to be met by the impending bull-charge of his enormous prey. In swift retaliation, the Sihndar channeled the arcane, and outstretched his palm forward to send a gust of flames upon the Demon, the torrent of violet fire coating the arachnids body and earning terrific screams of anguish from it. Claiming the very opportunity he had created, Xazrec lunged forward and clung to one of the beasts several legs, starting to climb along the massive creatures body and crawling up towards the set of eyes that it bore at its joints. In vain attempts to shake off its determined assailant, the arachnid Demon swung its body back and forth, splashing venomous saliva from its articulated jaws, but it did not hinder the Sihndar from repeatedly plunging his Khopesh into the eye-sockets of the foul beast and violently crippling his preys sight. Screams of terror. The spiders twitching legs were able to smash Xazrec miles away, the Demon Hunter getting tossed into a wall, the wind knocked out of him. Pouring ichor from its pierced eye-sockets, the arachnid launched itself upon Xazrec, an onslaught of venomous spit leaving harsh burns on the Sihndar's skin, steam fizzling from the warriors newfound injuries. Xazrec's attempts to crawl free from its foe were cancelled by the pincers that clamped down upon his chest. His ichor-stained Khopesh slipped from his grip while his body was repeatedly battered by the monstrosities limbs. In spite of the injuries he had sustained, when all seemed bleak, the Sihndar raised both of his hands outwards, overcharged arcane channeled in his spindly digits, and the Demon Hunter unleashed a bright burst of plasma bolts from his palms upon the Demon. For a second, the dark cistern was brightly lit as the vast explosion of magical energy sent the arachnid beast into a stumble, and in a hurry over the strained seconds, Xazrec reclaimed his trusty Khopesh in hand and claimed the kill, driving his sickle-sword through the spiders head, all the way through to the hilt. A final screech of pain echoed from the downed beast, before its articulated limbs stopped all movement, and the arachnid fell limp. Xazrec heaved out a pained grunt and stumbled away from the felled creature, the splashing of waters sounding through the cistern as he himself met the rocky terrain, sprawling over the ground. Deep breaths were inhaled and exhaled as the Sihndar's wideblown Silven eyes glared at the spiky ceiling above, his golden pupils brightly glowing like a pair of lamps. He could have done with Sirh-Time right about now, he thought to himself. The Sihndar eventually raised to his feet and detached his dented chestplate from his marred body, walking at a steady pace towards the cadaver of his hunt, dragging his Khopesh along the ground. Demon Hunting was a thankless job. They'd smile at your face and treat you nobly until you had brought them the corpse of their troubles, only to leave a pouch of gold at your feet and pray never to have to do business with you again. But Xazrec was in peace with that. He did not require the sympathy of people, only their hard-earned gold in turn for his service. After all, he was but a weapon. The taste of Demon blood on the tip of his tongue was all he required to bring that wicked smile to his scarred face. Xazrec raised his ichor-stained Khopesh, and brought it down on the arachnid creature in full force. As blade swam through flesh, a flock of ravens on the surface took off into the skies, the first hints of sunrise teasing their arrival beyond the mountains in the skyline. The neighing of a horse awoke the villagers of the humble hamlet, as the black-clad Sihndar rode into the street, the decapitated and taxidermied head of a spider beast dangling from the ropes strapped to the saddle of his stead. He had come to collect his due.
