— Mika, a maid in service at Castle Haimorrha —

My eyes followed Dante back forth as he paced back and forth in the disgusting pig sty that was his room.

“Immortality isn’t just about living forever,” he ranted, biting at the nail of his clawed finger, “It’s about transcending mortality, about approaching godhood!”

Lounging on his bed, I wrapped another bandage around my arm, where Dante had cut me open to feed. Being human, my wounds didn’t heal as fast as the vampire servants in the castle. But in addition to preferring the taste of human blood, I think Dante also liked seeing the scars he left on his victims.

“But that girl, she didn’t die, even when her head was removed,” his voice lowered to a whisper, “Clearly she possesses a form of immortality beyond what even Haimorrha offers.”

“If I may, Lord Dante,” I interjected, fully knowing it wasn’t my place to speak, “Why are you so fascinated by this girl?”

I mean there was the obvious immortal thing, which was supposed to be a secret, but is kind of an open secret thanks to Dante ranting about it all the time. Immortals make better servants because they can’t die no matter how much you abuse them. But I knew Bridget wasn’t Dante’s type.

Dante looked down his nose at me, “Don’t question me,” he commanded with a flash of his eyes, then answered my question anyway." She's Stacy's pet," he said with a hint of disdain. ”I’ll never understand what Dagon sees in her. She’s so… flippant! And she isn’t even fully committed to Lord Haimorrha!” Dante ranted.

Of course it came down to that. Another open secret: Dante was totally gay for Dagon. Dagon himself was probably the only one who didn’t notice. Besides, Dante himself was also known for flirting with other gods, as well as being a hypocrite.

“I need to know her secret,” he continued pacing, “Maybe then Dagon will see that I’m the one truly worthy to rule by his side…” His eyes suddenly darted to me. “Why am I telling you this?” he caught himself. “Don’t pry so much, or I’ll dispose of you like my last toy.”

“You mean the slave you bought from Lady Mordred? Everyone knows you sent him back for a refund. Acting like you killed him or something. Besides, I’m under the employ of Lord Dagon. You can’t just ‘dispose of me,’ stop calling for me on the other hand, you could do that.”

Dante just scratched his head. He knew everything I said was true. I couldn’t help but let a smug little smirk show on my face. “You’re dismissed,” he said at last, waving his clawed hand at me. “And don’t come back,” he hissed, flashing his eyes, an obvious sign he was trying to use his domination spell on me. I pretended it worked.

I gathered my discarded maid uniform from the littered chamber floor, and slipped into it and quickly, tying the back as best I could on my own. I briefly glanced into the mirror when I was done, admiring how much I resembled an actual girl. Most of the castle mistook me for one. Only the vampire nobles I’d slept with and some of the maids I’d bathed with knew the truth. Dante leered at me as I dressed myself, and I did a final bow before closing myself out of the room. I knew well that this wouldn’t actually be the last time he called on me. Dante loved my body too much to stay away. The poor fool thought he was in control of me, when in reality I held him in the palm of my hand.

— Gregory, Paladin of Chercella —

I turned the black coin over in my hand. It was the only lead I had to go off of, but my gift from Chercella, my eyes of discerning good and evil, would allow me to recognize its signature in the possession of others.

On one side it was emblazoned with what appeared to be a devil’s wings, and on the other what appeared to be a ritual circle. Focusing my sight on it, its purple aura drew a potential connection to the demon god Bazalsevun. And now, scanning the rest of inn’s reception hall, I could see a number of patrons held copies of the coin as well.

I approached one of the tables, at which sat an old fat bald man drinking alone. He barely paid me any mind, until I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him out of his seat. He kicked over his chair as I did.

Many of the other patrons at the inn rose at once, some drawing weapons. Everyone seemed on edge.

“First that psycho woman and now you?” He grunted as he grabbed at my wrist trying to free himself. “Why me!?”

“Psycho woman?” I raised an eyebrow. “Nevermind. Just show me what’s in your pocket.”

He turned his pocket inside out and presented me with a fist-full of coins. “Here, take it, just leave me alone!”

It was mostly just the usual copper and silver, though there was some of what I was after mixed in. “Where did you get this?” I asked, picking out one of his coins.

The old man's face twisted into a scowl. "It's just change," he spat, still struggling against my grip.

An obvious lie.

I felt an hand on my shoulder. Releasing the man, I turned to be met by a band of three rough-looking men.

“Listen friend,” started the one who touched my shoulder, a gaunt-looking man who had many patches of facial hair covering his face that he apparently missed while shaving. “In this town we really don’t appreciate strangers coming in and roughing up our neighbors.”

“Then let’s be civil.” I held up the coin in my hand. “The other guy claimed to know nothing, but you guys know something right? After all you guys each have this coin too, right?” I focused on the evil in their pockets. “No, you have many of these coins.”

The ill-shaven man scowled and gestured to his two lackeys, then addressed me. “Let’s discuss this outside.”

I followed them diligently as they led me through town and into a shadowy alley between two buildings.

“Judging by your appearance,” The ill-shaven man spoke from the shadows, “I suppose you’re not a customer.”

“Oh?” my plate armor decorated with the symbol of Chercella glinted in what little light made its way between the buildings, “What gave that away?”

He waved his hand, and the two other men pulled out mail-breakers and charged.

They thrusted their blades, aiming for the gaps in my armor, but I simply stepped back and avoided their attacks, then firmly planted my hands against their shoulders and chanted, “Judgement.”