"We seem to have a few minutes while the helpful members of the Inquisition summon our playmate.

Perhaps we should introduce ourselves.

If you didn't catch my name from all the shouting, I am Benjamin Franklin the 7th, a courier who probably should have stayed in bed this morning." He made a sweeping bow with his hat.

The other people in the circle relaxed slightly.

"I'm Doby Finnegan.

I'm going to be a Paladin; my sword says so." The old weapon looked plain and well used, but Ben could see a layer of magic along the blade, and he felt the sword was resting before a big fight and had some hidden quality.A small girl dressed as a novice Courier spoke up next.

"No talking sword for me.

I became a courier when they wouldn't let me apply to become a Paladin.

It's a great experience, and I'm learning a lot, but I keep dreaming of doing something else.

I was told that taking Sir Eustace's test could get me into the Order.

My name is Clarice.

I grew up near Thunderfall, in the north."The other girl, wearing a helmet and breastplate, was nervous and trying not to show it.

"Astrid.

I didn't want to get married to some pig farmer, so I took my dowry, left home, and joined the legion for a year.

They offered me a three-year contract after training, but I came here and applied to the Academy.

I want to do something more, but these assholes keep looking down their noses at me.

This is my chance to prove myself.""Bryce Burnthand.

I know some fire magics and can fight a little.

They wouldn't take me into the Arcane Academy; the appraiser said I had too much 'Hedge Magic' in me.

They sent me to see Sir Eustace.

He said that if I passed this test, they would find a spot for me with the Paladins.

Even if I have to start as a groom or squire, it's better than returning to the mercenary company I started with."Ben nodded to them and smiled while cursing this farce of a test.

"Well, better and better.

We have a fire mage, a warrior with a magic sword, a brave courier, and one of the Emperor's finest.

I'm sure we'll do fine."Clarice looked at him with a bit of hope.

"Really?"Astrid snorted.

"Haven't you ever heard a 'We're screwed.' speech before? I heard too many of them, standing in the ranks of the Legion, waiting for orcs or trolls to charge."Dobie patted his sword.

"Screwed or not, we hit the bastard hard until it quits moving."Bryce looked a bit nervous.

"Uh, I'm not really a fire mage; I can make a lot of fire.

I can't control it or anything fancy.

I burnt a few friends and myself learning to get it under control a little bit.

The feedback hits me hard.

Luckily I've got resistance to my own magic."Ben kept smiling confidently, but inside he was becoming more and more nervous.

This had the feeling of a set-up.

None of these people should be here, including himself! Yes, surviving a fight with a demon made you stand out.

But only if you survived!Around them, the four black-robed Inquisitors setting up the ritual had finished their work.

Ben was a little worried by how careful they were being and mumbling to each other about doing a good job.

Comments like 'Can't let this one get loose!' made him nervous.

Off to the side, several other inquisitors looked on.

All of them were robed and hooded but in different colors of cloth.

Most were grey, but three were in red and one more in Black.

There were arguments and differences of opinion among them over the test, but they didn't interfere.

One of the Red Robed men in particular held the others back when they might have acted against Eustace and their black-robed counterparts.

Harmonia still waited but had sent Charles off.

Ben hoped it was for reinforcements.

But from the looks of things, the ceremony was about to start.

Sir Eustace was the person who stepped up to the podium where a large black book had been placed.

He unwrapped a long white ribbon that held it shut.

The smell of rotted meat filled the room when the book opened.

The light from the windows seemed to dim.

Ben looked up at the painting of dozens of gods on the domed ceiling.

The colors that had seemed so vibrant just moments before were now dark with dirt and soot, obscuring much of the paintings.

None of them were smiling, and some looked away.

Ben didn't recognize any of them.

With little preamble, Sir Eustace raised his hands and began:"Today, before the assembly of gods and learned men, we test these five initiates from sordid backgrounds, hoping that they will rise to the occasion and show that even those who come from the most humble of beginnings can raise themselves and join the ranks of the Order of Paladins.

A Paladin is more than a sword and shield; they must fight against the evil that invades all cracks of society.

Our test is hard, but that hardness brings forth those with the special abilities needed in a Paladin.

Some will join us, and some may perish.

Some say we do evil with this test but judge the outcome.

The ends justify the means.""Natchak, I call you to do my bidding and test these five souls.

Come, Natchak, Cyclopean Juggernaut, judge of the unworthy."A flame appeared in the circle's center that grew and solidified into a ten-foot-tall nightmare.

Legs like tree trunks ended in cloven hooves.

It was as wide as it was tall, a walking mountain of muscle with a conic head set directly into its shoulders with no neck.

Three-fingered hands clenched into fists.

It was covered in thick grey hide, like an elephant.

One huge, lidless eye stared at them above a fanged maw.

It ignored Ben and the others and took steps toward Eustace.

One hand poked at a solid, invisible barrier that kept it constrained.

"You called, I came.

You have me trapped and gave me some food to play with.

I ain't stupid.

Not touching those things until you tell me what you want done.

I'm not doing a big job just for five snacks."Sir Eustace stared at the demon.

"You misunderstand.

The snacks are the job.

They must test themselves against you in combat.

If they can send you back to the pits of hell, they prove they are worthy of the Order.

Otherwise, they are yours."The demon looked over at the five initiates and chuckled.

"You guys from the Black Order make me laugh sometimes.

Do you think this is doing good? You got a deal, Eustace.

I'll test them.

Thanks for lunch."He turned around and looked at the five initiates.

"I don't want to be rude, but I don't know if there's some pecking order.

Which of you do I eat first?"Dobie yelled at him.

"You're eating none of us, creature of the pit."Natchat grinned.

"Thanks for volunteering."Ben yelled.

"Spread out, don't let it grab you, take shots at weak points when someone else distracts it."Something was keeping Ben from seeing what level the demon was.

If this was a fair contest, they should have a good chance of beating it.

But he was doubting Eustace would give him a fair chance.

Politics and power were at stake here, and Ben kicked himself for jumping into the middle of it.

As Ben had expected, Dobie was the first to swing.

His five-foot-long sword gave him about the same reach as the demon.

Natchak seemed content to let him take a shot, but as Dobie's sword cut into the knee of the creature, it swung a meaty fist and slammed him back against the same invisible barrier that kept the demon from leaving.

Even as he cast Triage, Ben re-evaluated the situation.

He'd assumed they could leave the trial and fail.

He should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

The demon didn't pursue Dobie.

The young man rose to his feet, shaken but unhurt.

He nodded a quick thanks to Ben.

With the demon's attention on Dobie, Clarice attacked from behind, stabbing with her rapier.

Over and over, she thrust into the creature and then retreated in dismay.

"I can't hurt it.""Lesson time, kids, and you should thank me for it.

Luckily, I find it amusing to point these things out to humans who should know better.

I'm a demon.

That means I don't wear fancy armor to protect my soft skin.

I'm a monster! I've got skin so thick it puts plate armor to shame.

Dobie over there has an enchanted sword.

The bare minimum to hurt me.

Cuts down a little on my mitigation.

See the little wound he gave me? Oh, shit, you can't! I healed it already.

Ain't that a damn shame.

Eustace thinks that fighting someone like me can bring out the best in you, and you'll learn to Smite my unholy ass.

That's what you need to hurt me, and none of you have it.

So I'm going to amuse myself while I pound you and tear off pieces, and maybe, just maybe, one of you makes Eustace happy, and you figure it out.

Who's next? No takers? Hell, all of you take a hit."Ben yelled.

"Hit him, and pray to whatever god you worship to help you!" Ben didn't want to use his magic as long as the demon was going easy on them.

His small spells wouldn't do enough damage, and Flame Strike wasn't an option within a building.

He had the beginnings of a plan, but it relied on not being the daemon's target, at least for a few seconds.Clarice tried again, to no effect, getting a chuckle from Natchak.

Astrid advanced with a broadsword and shield, stabbing and then slashing.

She left scratches on the creature's hide but not much else.

Ben thrust with his Estoc, Bryce nervously sent a stream of fire from his hand, hitting the Demon in the chest to little effect.

"Sorry, kid, didn't Eustace mention he was summoning a demon? Your fire isn't hot enough to worry me.

Bryce grimaced, and the flames grew hotter, but with a curse, he stopped and backed away.

Ben saw that his hand was charred and blistered.

He sent a healing spell to the fire mage, who stared as his hand healed before him.

Dobie was hacking away at the demon, but each small wound healed before he could swing again.

In frustration, Dobie stepped forward and slapped Natchak, showering him in sparks.

"Ooh, ouch.

You know some storm magic? I felt that.

Some...nope, the pain is gone now.

But I have to say, you're the best of the lot, kid: magic sword, storm cantrip.

You're actually dangerous if I was tied up for a week.

Other than that, we got two with zero damage, a guy who can light my cigars and a healer who can make the fun last a bit longer." He turned to Ben.

"Yeah, I noticed your little divine heals popping off.

I'm going to give you a workout now.

See if you can keep up.

Remember, if they die, it was your fault." He turned and tried to grab Clarice, who rolled and dodged.

She came up and laughed at him, sticking out her tongue.

Frustrated, Natchak pursued her, stomping along on thick legs as she kept a step ahead of him, taunting him and calling him names.Ben grabbed Dobie.

"I need your help for a good distraction.

You have to channel your cantrip into the sword.

I know it can be done.

Put the power in the blade, and swing when I'm opposite you.

Make him cringe." Ben moved around the circle, staying nearer Clarice and getting her attention.

"Taunt him again after he gets hit.

Make him turn back around." She nodded.

Dobie was concentrating hard, and Ben saw his old sword begin to glow and spark.

He stepped up and swung as hard as he could, hitting Natchak in his hamstring, striking deep, and making the demon cry out in pain and anger.

"Ah, shit, that hurt.

Ok, playtime's over." He turned, limping, and glared at Dobie.

Ben readied himself.

Clarice yelled at the demon.

"Hey, goat-face, how's it feel having to come running when Eustace yanks your chain?" The nightmare started to turn and look for her, stung by the barb.Ben was already leaping at him.

Two levels of Jumping Jack let him leap three times normal.

He took two running steps and launched himself at Natchak, the hilt of his sword held above his head, pointing down and aiming for Natchak's one eye.

Both Anatomy of a Monster and Choice Cuts showed him where to make the strike.

The demon had almost no other organs or weak spots.

His Estoc stabbed hard into the huge eye, driven by Ben's weight, the strength of his arms, and the momentum of his leap.

Flaming Brand shot fire into the demon, who took additional damage from the Demon Slayer skill.

His sword lodged in the demon's skull, and for one brief instant, everyone in the room stared at Ben as he hung from his sword.

Natchak screamed and grabbed Ben with one meaty fist, squeezing until his ribs broke, then hurled him away.

Somehow Ben still held onto his sword as he slammed into the barrier.

He lay on the ground, gasping in pain.

Natchak's huge eye was skewered on his Estoc, leaking fluid.

The demon swung wildly around him as Dobie tried to hack into his legs.

Clarice was yelling and taunting him everywhere at once.

Astrid pulled Ben aside and tried to get him to drink a potion she pulled from her belt.

As the Big Demon said, "Playtime is over."You have blinded (for now) Natchak the Juggernaut.Estoc Damage (280 points) + Flaming Brand (60 points) + Demon Slaying (145 points).

Damaged multiplied x2 for critical location.

Total = 890 points.In return, he has broken four of your ribs and cracked five more.

Your breastbone is fractured, and one lung has a rib poking into it.

Current health 730/2885You are bleeding at -25 points per round.