As she entered the decrepit town the daylight made way for dusk and as it arrived, darkness fell around her like the northern trawlers latticework net collecting deep-sea fish. It felt stifling and the very absence of light brushed against her like scales and steel wool in opposition to her radiant demi-celestial skin that glowed with iridescence into that stifling darkness.

The demon that dwelled in that darkness mewled. A rippling preternatural sound that carried with it wicked, oily thoughts. The kind that you know are miserable and despicable and have no place in your mind, and yet, you find it very hard to immediately push them aside.

The Paladin drew the steel-forged-sword from her belt feeling comfort in its weight. The noise it made as it glided from its sheath was a soft hiss followed by a pleasant ring. Holding it aloft, she recited the holy invocation to the notes of a comforting hymn from her childhood that sent ripples of light coursing through the metal of the blade and into that darkness. The spell caused a gentle tone to fill the air in the same complementary key harmonizing with the ringing sound the sword had made moments before. A sustained note that filled the sinister silence dismissing the ominous discordant silent hum of the demons unholy power. The newly formed light source, however, did little to dispel the darkness. Instead, it appeared to strengthen and elongate the shadows that danced and snaked like dark shades, wearily around her.

The storefronts and market stalls that once held the livelihoods of the villagers now did little more than collect dust. According to the stories she had heard, only three days earlier this had been a living and thriving town. It’s contents had now turned to ash and dust and mold. Through one of the broken bakery windows Divina could see the remnants of loaves of bread and uneaten cakes that had begun to crawl with white translucent insect larvae. She looked away, the motion unnerving.

How long has this place been cursed? She thought to herself as she cautiously moved through the center of Orholt’s singular town square. The rumours had all agreed that the village had been a vibrant peaceful place and a frequent trading partner with other, nearby villages.

The remnants of the village and its inhabitants and their abundant lives were all around Divina. It was evidence that the activity within the village had suddenly just stopped. Meals that had gone cold and now, uneaten, were infested with maggots and flies. Simple children's toys lay abandoned in the street, forgotten by their owners. Windows were broken from both inside and out. Clothing had been torn from bodies. Blood stains marked walls and floors, windowpanes and door frames. All around her were signs that the town's inhabitants had turned from peace to violence in a heartbeat. That the nefarious thing that now haunted her, had just simply taken the freewill of a hundred or more people and set them to accomplishing its vile and evil deeds.

Demons couldn’t take freewill. They were bound by the five fundamental lores of magic. Free will was the first of those lores. It meant something more distressing than all the dark stories had told. It meant that the demon had an accomplice. A mortal who had given their will to the demon. A dark pact had brought this suffering. A demon-bound warlock was behind it all.

She had mentally walled away the screaming part of her mind that unravelled hideous clues to progressively disturbing deeds. She tried her best to ignore the bloodstained daggers of broken glass that crunched under her boots and the dark streaks of colour that stained the dusty floor around her. Divina had come to know that these signs were not unusual when dealing with the darker inhabitants of the abyss. But she had never heard of an entire town succumbing at once. The occasional family or farmstead would be stricken with a terrible sickness or driven to madness, at most. A town of Orholt’s size was unprecedented. The power of this warlock, left unchecked was a danger to everyone. She would have to do something she had never done before. It made her stomach turned just thinking of the connotations. There was no getting around it. More duty to be fulfilled. She swallowed her fear and apprehension down, pushed it deep into her gut and marched on.

As she dwelt on the nature of possible trials ahead of her she heard that terrible mewling once again. It was coming from just up ahead at the north end of the square. A cold shudder ran along her spine as her eyes fell on the town's small but prominent temple. This place once stood as a bastion of holiness in this community. A place for all believers to congregate, no matter their deity. Now it was nothing more than a desecrated shell of a building, its former beauty reduced to little more than a broken ruin. The arching doors of the main entrance had been torn from their hinges and now nothing more than ominous shadows hung thickly in their place, obscuring whatever horrors lay beyond their veil. Statues had once stood vigilant watch either side of those doors. Where once stood the polished stone statues of the saints and stained-glass depictions of the stories of mighty gods watching over the well-being of meager mortals, now lay desecrated piles of rubble and shattered panes of coloured glass. In their place strange inhuman depictions of a writhing mass of monstrous figures had been erected. Not in stone but instead created from rotting piles of meats and produce. Their dark forms looked like the artist had become bored halfway through the creative process. There were definitely human torsos to each figure, but instead of human arms and legs and heads, all manner of beast and bird, fish and insect had replaced the body parts with little regard for proper anatomy. They were disgusting and vile creations. Eyesores that held Divina's gaze just a little too long as she tried to discern what body part belonged to which monster. They appeared to be clambering over one another in part ecstasy and part terror. Simultaneous looks of true fear and deepest lust.

Who would do such a thing? Did the villagers purposely destroy the only safety left to them against unholy terrors? A fiend, no matter how powerful, could not enter sanctified ground or destroy sanctified property. What madness had claimed this place and its people? She pried her eyes from the frightful vision and walked toward the entrance wearily.