Hugon's eyes snapped towards the curtain as it began to move by itself, his hand instinctively going towards his dagger. The hair on the back of his neck began to stand up as he heard the rings of the curtains scrapping against the rod. Something awful was coming, he could sense it. He watched the servant approach the curtain, waving the man forward. Hugon's dagger was ripped out of its sheathe as the servant suddenly fell to his knees and wailed, a sound reminiscent of the screams of the dying but somehow so much worse than any Hugon had heard in his long years of violence and war. [i]What is out there? More importantly, what is coming?[/i] Hugon thought, tightening his grip on his dagger. Maker how he wished he had his axe and his armor, but those were both carefully stored away in the manor. He had assumed that even with how bad the surrounding area was, the darkness hadn't crept fully into the town yet. That it was relatively safe for him to let his guard down in. Now it looked like he was going to pay for that foolish assumption. 

Hugon carefully began to move to check on the screaming man as the orc servant panicked and attempted to run. The door was jammed by some foul magic, Hugon could hear the desperate struggles as he drew near towards the other man. When the orc began howling as well, the paladin turned around in time to see the light in the room be snuffed out, and a creature straight out of the depths of hell enter the room. The hideous screaming of the servants suddenly ceased, and the silence that followed was thick and oppressing. 

Terror raged through Hugon as all the symbols of the Maker on the walls of the room fell to the ground, destroyed. He had been afraid before. When his brother was destroying the village, during battle against the orcs, hunting rogue mages, charging into the lines of heretics during the crusade, but he had never felt pure primal terror like this before. Everything in his being told him to flee this place. Flee this town, this area, this entire country before that vile [i]thing[/i] came any closer. But he could not. He had made a promise to Lord Lochborne, and if he abandoned his promise now, not only would he be a wretched coward but what happened in Yolocto would happen here. It took all of his might, but he managed to keep the terror from his face. He wouldn't give this creature the satisfaction of seeing his fear on his face. 

As the monster leaned towards him, his palms began to burn with an old pain.

He didn't hear what the creature said to the others, too focused on standing his ground to bother paying attention to what lies it was spewing. Faith was his corner stone, and he would not lose it. The Maker provided, even in dark times such as these. He glanced down at the servant at his feet. The man was dead, that much was obvious. The paladin doubted that the orc had survived this ordeal either. Hugon's eyes widened as he saw his own mutilated corpse swaying in the noose. Then he gritted his teeth. He would not let the creature get the best of him. He would [i]not[/i]. As the monster finished his prophecy, Hugon's free hand reached up and clutched the symbol of the maker around his neck. Courage. The Maker provided. He would not be bested by such a horror. 

"Begone, demon!" Hugon forced strength into his voice, making himself look the blackened skull. He would not let fear control him, or this damned monster have its way. Righteous fury welled within, giving him strength to speak past his fear. "We may not be the chosen, but we are the ones who will [i]succeed![/i] We will fight our way through these cursed lands, we will cut down the monstrosity that hangs over this city, and we will send you back to hell! The Maker wills it, and it will be done! Begone! You cannot turn us away from our path!"