The stones in his hand fell to the ground, his bemusement with the fact that everything in their new world was indeed magical lost in an instant as the screeching of the coming demon rattled his brains. Lain's sword hand shot reflexively behind him, his other shoving Vivian aside to clear space for his draw as he extended the blade, moving towards the sound without a thought other than answering the fight again. Their strategy had worked before and now he was committed to it, even if they were down a mage. Something made him stop in his advance, however. The demon's claw had been caught on an invisible barrier, something he had yet to see come out of this particular group's bag of tricks. If they had the ability to stop its movements they would have done so before. He looked to see if anyone was responsible, and instead found most of the group joining him in shocked observation of the creature's new sides. The killer's iced-over grimace softened as it went on lamenting. Each word out of the demon's being was cut with sadness and loss, things he didn't anticipate feeling from a predator like it. He found his mouth ajar, somewhere towards forming an uncomfortable frown as he had to listen to its pitiful sulking. Every hopeless word, every facet of the strange fixation that the creature was exposing... they all spoke to the first fear he had felt in this new world. It wasn't just the gray clouds that all carried dead dreams, it was the carrion beasts that fed on them too, it was probably this entire world, tormented hopes and lost ways... He looked to Alana, to the sister, at his own weapon, to the jovial little sprite that had recently joined their group, nodding to himself as he moped under the demon's voice. Naturally.
Heat tore at his body, a harsh wind lapping at his clothing. Bursts of violent light strained his eyes as he tried to look up, finding the demon torn apart as thunder clapped in his ears. Lain grit his teeth at the sound, looking up for the source only to find a figure wreathed in blinding wings of brightness joining them on the field. At that point, he had had enough. He only winced at the sight of its spears, watching helplessly as it destroyed the demon that had plagued them in a few grandiose actions. If this is the next thing we have to kill to move on, he leveled his weapon in front of him as a precaution, then so be it. The armored figure turned towards them, he tensed as it raised its hand in their direction... And then she took her helmet off. The killer turned his blade point down, his posture straightening as he tried to keep a straight face. His eyes fell to the ground while introductions took place, a terrible grip taking hold of his insides and squeezing until they threatened to burst. He thought he would retch at the sight of another blonde bob so soon, but, as he looked back up to her, she hadn't the smug face to match his killer's. By that time, Alana was pitching her cause to the winged woman. He doubted that was going to get them anywhere, but it would certainly shed some slight on the level of benevolence they could expect from this god he'd never heard of. He sheathed his weapon, walking towards the two but showing none of the reverence that Alana did as he acknowledged the captain with a wave of his hand, and an expectant stare as he awaited her next words.
Vivian stood beside Annabel, watching the wisp with great amusement as it appeared to interact with Maulnar. It demonstrated an intelligence far beyond its brethren in almost everything it did, she had no doubt that the old man was on the way to more meaningful discourse with it. One thing gnawed at her though. "Excuse me... what exactly is English?" She almost had time to ask, before the roaring of their old assailant joined them in the clearing. On impulse the sister turned on her heel, tossing a protective arm in front of Annabel beside her as she found and glared at the coming demon. A sweet sound intervened in its flailing, and with a sigh of relief she realized that some peculiar force was at work to protect them. Perhaps it lay in the wisp? No, she had seen the same type of repulsion only seconds before, from the pillar at the center of the clearing. She had no inkling as to what magic even was, but in books they always had spells. Of course, witnessing identical effects did not guarantee an identical source, but did warrant an investigation into the possibility. There was also the peculiar things the monster was saying. It's emotional outcry wasn't enough to wash the memory of the lives it had extinguished. She commanded herself not to resent its existence, and at the same time felt disgusted with herself as she realized how jaded she had become to the lamentations of the wounded. As she had observed on the run through the forest, it had been perhaps hours since she laid in that smokey hell, listening to every animal screech and denied plea that meant her worldly works were being undone. It was still too soon to feel. She took a few steps towards the sorrowful beast, contemplating what mercy entailed in such a situation. Perhaps, in her trip through darkness, she had finally found sympathy for a mindset wherein there were lives not worth saving. Like a brick, something crushed into the demon. More followed, destroying its surprisingly fragile form. No, she realized, that is not how she thought. It was still painful to watch something alive, even something so vile, succumb to death. As the angelic woman greeted herself to the group in the aftermath, and Alana ran up seeking her own mercy from it, she bit into her lip. It was an assumption of hers, something wasteful and shameless, but one that suddenly burned deep in her bosom. Faced with someone who was clearly of this realm, who spoke so confidently of gods that she knew nothing of... She would afford herself this, her whole life had been observation and she had once suffered dearly for waiting until she understood.
"I don't believe she can help us, Alana," Vivian said, walking towards the golden armor and its fiery sword. She felt warmed, and tugged heatedly at the scarf around her neck. The mild mannered sister, for once, made no secret of bearing a scowl. "What God, or his acolyte, could return us to a world he has not once shown his mercy upon? What God presides over such a hellish world, and such a twisted realm as this and still blasphemes himself with the name Salvation?" Her fist clenched itself white in the pale blue folds of her muffler. Vivian's lips trembled, though she found her words coming to her well enough. "Where were you? Any of you? Maybe you're the last of his servants? Is that your excuse? I don't mean for me, to be clear, I accepted my fate. Where among the billions of history's lost souls did your God earn that title? Or, perhaps, he pilfered it from those people trapped here. People like us, who would kneel to anything wearing the names of the myths we lived in worship of." She stopped a moment, as her breath settled. She pushed up her glasses, as they had become dislodged, but her glare remained unmoved. She had again, talked of something she could only assume from what she was witnessing. Her cheeks reddened with her words, untapped wells of resentment for the divine surfacing as she contemplated the possibilities. Perhaps Argyle was a god, and they were simply so weak that they mattered not to the physical. That was perhaps the most infuriating option. What were they, then, people that had touched and done anything in the real world? "I appreciate your welcome and would not act so, if I believed you were in any way the true host of this place. As it is I see no reason for there to be trust between men and that which calls itself god."