Damien sat on the rooftop of one of Angband's buildings, looking down at the scene below. A group of humans were fighting each other, for what reason the Rauko couldn't understand. He smirked, watching them with red eyes that held a hint of amusement in them. Humans. The race would eventually wipe themselves out at the rate they were going.

The Rauko turned away from the group, looking around at the city. He had only stopped in the city recently for a quick rest before continuing to cross the desert. He had learned upon arrival that humans in this city would get into fights for no reason and he found them very amusing to watch.

Damien turned his head to the girl beside him. His sister, Medea, had not said a word.

"Pitiful," he said, "This is their idea of a battle?"

He gestured at the humans below them.

Medea sat quietly on the rooftop, watching the battle her brother had been watching. She frowned, not understanding why they were fighting in the first place. Her brother--Damien--however, seemed to be watching the fight intently.

"Pitiful," he said, turning to her, "This is their idea of a battle?"

Medea looked up at her brother's voice.

"It is," she said, "And I agree with you. It is pretty pathetic."

She let her eyes wander, taking in the city around them. They had stopped in earlier today to rest, having come across the city while traveling.

"How long do you plan on staying here, Damien?" she asked, turning back to her brother.

Sarce was watching the two demons from afar. They were deeply focused upon the battle between several mortals. He found such foolish and pointless behaviour rather amusing and it seemed that the demons seemed to believe this was so. His eyes switched from the battle to the demons and Sarce decided to speak with them.

His wings spread across the floor and he beckoned for the wings to begin beating, slowly rising as they did so. He inched forward and flew forwards towards the demons. His large shadow was unnerving to the mortals below, and many fled in fear of him. Such pathetic actions. He harmed mortals only for the purpose of food.

He continued his journey and quickly dropped onto the rooftop where the demons were positioned to speak with them. He landed with a thud which would alert them of his presence, and he let his wings stay as they were in the possibility that they were unfriendly.

"I do believe that you have just experienced the mortal form of battle. The pathetic attempts at throwing fists, kicks and throwing eachother across the ground in the hope that one will surrender. They do not even have a reason, let alone the standard to battle." Sarce said in a humorous manner.

"We should leave as soon as possible," replied Damien to Medea's question.

Suddenly, a thud met his ears. The demon turned around, watching as a winged man landed. Damien's eyes narrowed sharply. Who was this man and what was he doing there?

The man faced them, seeming amused.

"I do believe that you have just experienced the mortal form of battle. The pathetic attempts at throwing fists, kicks and throwing eachother across the ground in the hope that one will surrender. They do not even have a reason, let alone the standard to battle." he said.

Damien got up cautiously, in case this man turned out to be trouble. He walked past Medea, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Who are you?" asked Damien.

Thud.

Medea whipped around sharply at the sound. A winged man was standing on the rooftop, wings spread. He was watching them, looking slightly amused.

"I do believe that you have just experienced the mortal form of battle. The pathetic attempts at throwing fists, kicks and throwing eachother across the ground in the hope that one will surrender. They do not even have a reason, let alone the standard to battle." said the man.

Damien got up, his cloak rustling as he did. Medea followed as well, standing next to her brother. She drew the dagger she carried with her, preparing to fight if this is what the man wanted.

"Who are you?" asked Damien.

Medea watched the man, waiting for a response.

It was evident that these two figures wre not pleased with the disturbance which Sarce had given. The two were seemingly close. Lovers? Sarce looked at them both with intensity, trying to determine what relationship they had with one another. He needed to resolve the situation before he worked out what his theory was.

"Who are you?"

"Such is the question that can determine whether a battle occurs or a friendship is created. I am Sarce. I give no last name for one is not needed. If you would care to offer your names, I believe that we would be on better terms, do you not agree?" Sarce said in an unusual manner.

Sarce rustled his cloak and looked at both the figure. The man was evidently the protector of the two, attempting to prove himself to the woman. The woman, however, had a subtle darkness and power that the man wanted. He was simply smart enough not to demonstrate this.

He had many theories about people and he did not doubt that a theory would arise about the true extent of the two people and their relationship, though for now, he decided to ignore his impending question and offer his hand in a shake with the man. This would please the man because it showed that Sarce believed the man to be more dominant.

This was certainly not the case however. If the man took the hand and shook it, Sarce would offer his hand to the woman also. Equality was a policy that Sarce certainly believed in. There were no inferiors, nor we there superiors that walked upon this land.

"Such is the question that can determine whether a battle occurs or a friendship is created. I am Sarce. I give no last name for one is not needed. If you would care to offer your names, I believe that we would be on better terms, do you not agree?"

Damien watched warily as Sarce approached him. Sarce extended his hand towards him, intending for the demon to shake it. Damien relaxed slightly, removing his hand from the hilt of his sword. He took the offered hand.

"I am Damien," he said, "This is my sister, Medea."

He looked around at the desert city. This seemed hardly a place for a fallen angel to visit and yet he and Medea did not seem commonplace around here either.

"If I may ask," he said, "What are you doing here?"

A dark shadow hid an alley as a woman stood by the wall watching the people fight. The shadows seemed to move for a moment and her percing red eyes watched patienly. Foolish creatures they do not know what awaits them... said a voice in the womans mind. She shook her head and narrowed her eyes, "No master. They do not know what will be comming soon." She said blankly. The shadows moved again, Do not disappoint me Calias...I do not want to have to remind you what happens when you fail me. the voice said and the shadows became still. She nodded. "I will not fail you master. Those who do not join will be destroyed by your hand." she said in a flat tone.

She continued to watch the people fight when she heard voices up above her. She looked up and shook her head, peircing red eyes glowed in the darkness as she turned back to the fight, it was almost over as one of the men toppled the other. She moved as another was thrown in her direction forcing her out of the shadows. She merely looked at the man with a bored glance. "Foolish mortals. You may enjoy fighting now but soon you will beg for mercy when you are forced to do the things you love. Enjoy it while you can." she said to no one in particular. Her short black hair moved freely as she turned and watched the fighting.

Sarce walked forward and outstretched his hand towards the woman. He believed in equality between the sexes and wanted to demonstrate this by making such a gesture. Whether the woman would take the gesture, he did not know.

"I am Damien, this is my sister, Medea."

"I am glad that I have met you both. It seems that we are quite the sight. Standing upon a rooftop, communicating as though we were friends." Sarce said, chuckling lightly at the seemingly suspicious sight that the mortals would see if they looked up.

As Sarce looked down at the battle, he noticed a woman standing in the alley. She was muttering to no-one and it seemed that she had taken some notice of the group that stood on the rooftop.

"If I may ask, what are you doing here?"

"I will answer that question in time, though I believe that we have some company." Sarce looked in the direction of the woman. "If you would care to divert away from the woman, I will follow as you wish."

Medea took the offered hand, sheathing her dagger before she did. She shook Sarce's hand.

"I am glad that I have met you both. It seems that we are quite the sight. Standing upon a rooftop, communicating as though we were friends," said Sarce.

Medea nodded. She wondered how any of the humans would react if any of them decided to look up. They would probably either run away or fight...and if they fought...

The Rauko looked between Sarce and her brother. If they fought, they would probably die, she realized. She did not know about Sarce, but Damien would not spare human blood. Her brother hated humans.

"That's true," she said, "It's a good thing that no one seems to notice us."

Sarce peered down at the battle just as Damien asked his question. Sarce did not turn around, only began to talk.

"I will answer that question in time, though I believe that we have some company. If you would care to divert away from the woman, I will follow as you wish," he said.

"Company?" asked Medea, walking over to the edge and looking down. A woman was standing in the alley. She looked half-crazed, talking to herself and muttering words that the Rauko girl couldn't quite catch.

A silent figure moved about in the shadows of the city. The cool night air was a refreshing end to the scorching day. Running down the dark corridors of the quiet city, the figure stopped behind a large pile or dirt and sand that had been awkwardly sitting in the middle of the alley floor, pushed up against a wall. A soft glow from a small candle hanging from the roof of a house poured enough light onto the silhouette to see her face. It was a young girl whom appeared the age of seventeen. Her expression gave an uneasy, alarmed state. She was breathing very heavily as if she had run half way across the desert without rest. Even still, she tried to be as quiet as possible, gasping several mouthfuls of air and letting it out in a slow, hefty pant. She brushed her dark crimson hair out of her large, hazel eyes.
“I hope no one had seen me.” The girl stated to herself, reaching into a brown bag strapped over her shoulder. She pulled out a small glass box, which held a small golden key. “I simply amaze myself.” She said with a smile as she slipped the box back in.
Suddenly, she heard a noise.
Footsteps.
Pharyssa threw herself against the wall, turning her head to see who was coming. Two manly shadows approached. As they drew nearer she could hear their voices.
“Well I couldn’t have told her that. She’s holding everything I’ve ever known on a string.”
“There are ways of getting out of these things. It’s easier than you think.”
“Yes, but to--”
The men stopped. They were standing so close they could’ve reached out and touched her. Pharyssa held her breath and clenched her teeth shut tight. She waited to see what they would do. One of the men stepped forward and bent down, picking up a leather strip that was resting quietly on the sand. After looking over it, he handed it to his companion.
“That’s odd.” The man commented
The other nodded as he looked around.
Pharyssa touched her neck, nothing. It was her chocker necklace. It must’ve fallen off when I was running.. She thought.
The man shrugged and threw it to the ground again. His companion snickered and they walked off, continuing their conversation.
Pharyssa let out a heave of air. Readjusting the strap on her shoulder, she took a few steps, letting herself pass through the flickering downpour of brightness from the candle, then she scurried into the darkness, running through the dim labyrinth of the many back roads.