Through the countryside roams a man. He is young, at the peak of health for a mortal or the age where the Exalted typically enter stasis. His hair is ragged and shoulder-length, a thick tangle of blond that frames his handsome face. Not beautiful, handsome, in a rugged way: stubble coats his cheeks and jaws, and his blue eyes are piercingly keen. He is lightly-muscled and tanned, athletic more than anything.

He pauses for a moment, within the eastern forest, far from the farmlands. He crouches down, moving one hand over the ground. What his eyes see cannot be said, for they remain closed, and if by chance they should open they would be a milky white. He is blind, through and through. "I've almost got you, monster," he mutters under his breath. His hand, covered in a red leather gauntlet, shifts to his hip, where a simple iron sword is sheathed.

"It's been weeks, but I'm catching up. By the Dragons, I'll end you before the sun sets." He rummages around in his hipsack, and pulls out a small, hand-rolled cigarette. Another small device is pulled from the sack and he lights it, taking a long, relaxing pull. He stands, and moves once more.

A true warrior of Malfeas is only content in a few extraordinary circumstances. One of those is dancing. The other is slaughtering. Take a guess at which Kelarm is currently occupying himself with. Don't worry, it's rather simple, just close your eyes and listen!

That's right, those sounds? Screams. Not the normal sort, either. The sort that accompanies slow, exquisite torture. And the source? Why, it's no doubt rather close to that fountain of green flame that's just as bright and much more insidious then any natural light. And the smoke that's pouring into the air? That's rarely a good sign.

Perhaps it's unwise, to approach such things as those atop the high mount of Kurkurra of the Agatae. Does Kurkurra know what he is being called to bear his rider in to battle against? If so, he does not say. "Bring us closer!" Ormi bellows, brow still scarred from his last battle against those creatures that plague Greyfalls, the quiver at his side and the bow on his back. With the keen gaze of Perception 5 and Awareness (Long Range) 4, he takes in his foe from far, far away.

"Tch! Damnit, is that how little you think of me, you god damn beast," snarls the blond hunter, suddenly breaking into a run as the green fire fills the air. He is startlingly fast, a whirlwind of movement that seems to fly over the roots and twigs filling the forest floor. Every fiber of his being radiates righteous indignation. This hound of Malfeas is bold enough to stop and TORTURE PEOPLE while being chased by him?!

The blond man suddenly breaks free from the forest, soaring through the air in a massive running leap. He skids to a halt amidst a row of tall grass and vegetables, and at this distance the pained screams are like a hammer bellowing in his skull. He pauses, briefly, to force the noise out, clearly pained by it; truly, his heart is too noble.

"KELARM!" Comes the man's scream, his deep voice rolling over the area. "COME OUT AND FACE ME, YOU COWARD. YOU CAN'T FLEE ANYMORE--TELJAN THE RED-HANDED HAS TRAPPED YOU AT LAST!"  The red-gauntleted hand draws the sword with a slight hiss. With one swift cut, he severs a thick tangle of plants before him, and stalks forward, closer and closer to the source of the green fire.

The small farming village is set ablaze, its inhabitants scattered in literal pieces amongst the fields. The Infernal warrior himself is slashing his blade with the sort of exertion one might put into their mid-morning jog. His entire form is shrouded in brass-like flames, that corroded jade grand daiklave swinging at every villager that dares confront him.  "Your shrines are offensive to the true Gods of Creation!" Kelarm cries out, ending the life of a pitch-fork wielding farmer mid-sentence.

"Silence your abhorrent blasphemies, you monster!" bellows Ormi. With a gesture commanding attention, he draws his bow, and nocks the arrow, aloft atop the beating wings of the agatae a bowcast from the monster. "Return to the hell that spawned you!" Without mercy, he unleashes a hail of attacks!

Arrows fall like rain!

Ormi's shout proves to be of great fortune for the Slayer, as Kelarm's attention is drawn upwards just in time to spot those falling arrows. The only sign of surprise is his eyes blinking, just once, before battle-honed reflexes shift the Infernal out of the way. Two arrows, by combination of chance and skill, do manage to strike the warrior, tearing through his robes and digging into the reinforced buff jacket beneath.

Surprisingly quick steps for such a large, and now bleeding, man carry him several yards, a leap sending him right through the door of the nearest farmhouse. His voice calls out an angry challenge, "Cowardly Dynast, land your beast and face me on the ground, see how you fare there!"

Suddenly, arrows! Teljan the Red-Handed would, perhaps, be surprised, but his keen ears picked up on the bellows and challenges of Sesus Ormi before the first arrow was launched! The blond man glances back at the dragon-blooded for a brief moment, gritting his teeth.

"Stay back!" Teljan roars to Ormi, suddenly planting himself before the fire-wreathed and arrow-stung form of Kelarm. "Goad him too much and he'll turn the next few miles into a smouldering crater!"

Teljan grips his sword tighter, using a one-handed grip; this hand being the one on the left, so that he can hold his red gauntlet up higher. "Only this hand of mine can hold it at bay! So long as I'm close, he's weakened! Now come, Kelarm! You die here!"

The gauntleted man chases after Kelarm, diving in through a broken window in the farmhouse, hiding them both from sight. Suddenly, Teljan thrusts his sword at the Infernal!. His movements are slow, and seem to lack strength behind them. Is he a poor swordsman, or is this the power of some Charm?

Teljin's piddling sword work drives the fierce Kelarm back a few feet, his Grand Daiklave raised before him in anger. "Who are you, to confront me as such?" The Infernal slayer demands, turning for the door. "A cowardly archer and this, are there no TRUE WARRIORS?!" He bellows, hissing with rage at the 'man' before him.

Sesus Ormi seems pleased with his results - the monster wounded, his arrows efficacious - to bring down such a horror through superior tactics is the greatest hope a terrestrial can dream of! But things can yet go awry...

Long swaths of ragged black cloth trail out behind the nameless newcomer as they thunder across the ground at a ridiculous rate - no human should be able to move as fast this thing does. Hunkered close to the ground, hidden in all the cloth as it is, it's difficult to tell whether or not the thing is actually running or simply soaring over the ground. Flashes of something show here and there as what are most certainly limbs stretch out to the side, looking more like tattered wings tipped in five individual claws of a nameless black material. If those who are scattered about the area thought escape was possible, they are proven swiftly wrong as the newcomer mows them down. It simply passes by, and they explode in a splattering of gore without even pausing to check the result of its handiwork.

"NO!" cries Ormi. Once he was more yielding, more retiring - but now he has grown wrathful from long and lousy experience, and though he is distant and aloof from these people, his bow carries his rage down to avenge those who walk among them like monsters.

"Know this, monster!" Teljan's voice carries with authority, his body poised tall but hidden inside the barn. The deathly silence brought by the unknown Infernal picking off survivors enables him to be heard, however, and very clearly, by those few who were accidentally missed by the assaults of the two Hellknights.

"I am Teljan the Red-Handed! Since the day your kind took what was mine, and left me only this husk of a right hand, I have hunted you! Woven into it are the mightiest sorceries known in this Age or any other, the power to strike down enemies of the world and consume their power! Do you understand, monster? This hand of mine burns with an awesome power! It's loud roar tells me to defeat you!"

With a mighty cry, Teljan throws a punch with his gauntleted hand, aiming to blast Kelarm right through the side of the barn with a massive boom!

The fist connects with Kelarm and the Infernal Exalt is propelled rather dramatically backwards, his heavy form being driven right through the barn's rickety wooden wall. By some fortuitous turn, the slayer lands within arms reach of a cowering child. A malevolent grin forms on this warped creature's face, his daiklave being driven into the ground as a strong hand grasps at the young girl. With a cackle, and a turn, his second hand grips her leg and with a violent heaving motion she's converted almost instantly into a missile. A screaming, crying, rather soft, missile that soars up towards the flying Dynast.

Sesus Ormi cries out in horror, instantly dropping his bow. The glittering spire of jade falls forgotten to the earth below, embedding itself in to the blood-mired ground with a TWANG. He reaches out with desperate hands, and the impact drags him off his steed, which rushes to lunge back underneath him!

Sesus Ormi barely catches the edge of the saddle, struggling not to fall, as he watches the chaos below explode out of control, and the child he sought to catch die bloodily on impact. "Run," he croaks to Kurkurra.

"But-" begins the Agata,

"FLY! Take us from this place! I am outmatched," weeps Ormi, clinging to the saddle and dragging himself back within it.

Here and there, the new arrival runs across one or more villagers whom he simply skips around, as though he had not seen them at all. Pouncing from ground to wall, he vaults his way around a particularly scared little boy and simply carries on; immediately cleaving the head from a woman as she exits a building when he is leaping by. His movement does not pause when the essence-charged arrow comes flying his way, he simply shifts to the side and the arrow - inexplicably - ceases in midair. As if it had been grabbed, and then it simply drops to the ground with a quiet clatter.

"No!" Teljan's frantic voice, for a moment losing his composure, echoes over the village. His breathing grows shallow, his heartbeat quickens, and in his closed eyes tears manifest, fought back by pure willpower. "You beast..." he rasps, voice raw. He suddenly lunges at Kelarm, left hand rising. The sun glints off the sword, briefly making it shine a brilliant gold, and then he swings down once, aiming to lay him low with a perfect blow--

And then twist around, to come face to face with the second Infernal! He is outnumbered, perhaps outmatched, doomed for saving these people. He is clear to Ormi's unmatched vision, a lone hero battling the forces of hero. It is tragic, but he does not falter. "Run, dragon-blooded! These are foes beyond you or I! I will buy you time to summon reinforcements!"

The doomed(?!) hero lunges at the second Infernal! "I know not your name, monster, but if you are an ally of Kelarm than you are a blight on this world! Teljan the Red-Handed will not let you hurt another innocent!"

The one in the tattered black cloth reaches out to grab the shoulder of one of the few remaining survivors still caught within it's boundries, lightly hopping over him and giving him a kick as it passes over him to knock him away. All five claws are pulled along the side of a house as it passes, ripping up the wood merrily as they go along before coming to an abrupt halt infront of the fellow with the large sword. They click their claws together slightly in thought, remaining still for a second before holding up it's claws to defend itself against the large weapon coming it's way.

Kelarm watches Teljan's theatrics with a bemused grin, reaching for his Daiklave and wrenching it free from the earth. His anima has grown even brighter, the beacon of emerald light clear for miles around. A haunting reminder to the Dynast even as he flees. "You foolish, foolish man." He booms, slowly and surely stepping towards the "red-handed", massive blade raised. "I suggest you flee, before you are destroyed."

Teljan turns when his sword catches on the Infernal in black cloth's claws, backing up a step. He musn't let the two flank him. No doubt one strike from their baleful weapons would be enough to lay him low, and even the power of his incredibly mundane red leather gauntlet used solely as a prop to help spread his legend might not save him!

Far in the distance, even in Greyfalls, which Ormi rapidly approaches, the baleful, demonic animas of the Infernals fills the horizon, awful images of Malfean wretches which rise, iconic, to roar defiance at the traitorous heavens. To look too long at those animas is to invite torment and nightmares, and any wise look away. One little girl continues to stare, her eyes wide and horrified, at the images.

But she has no nightmares because she died when Ormi didn't catch her. Whoops.

When soldiers and Immaculates finally arrive, the animas have disappeared and there are no signs of Teljan the Red-Handed or his prey. The half dozen, maybe a little more who survived all tell tales of the epic battle, which involved lots of swordplay, terse words, and booms. They all know how Teljan the Red-Handed fought to protect them while Ormi fled, but they cannot say where any involved went. What is remembered is that the last blow was a double-punch from the gauntlet striking both hell knights, and then their animas strengthened, temporarily blinding those gathered.

When it faded, all were gone!

And farther away, in the opposite direction, a blond-haired man hefts a jade bow, walking with the two Infernals. "That went rather well. I'll have to pay him a visit later."