On the outskirts of the village, something far from cold was gathering. 

Three human-shaped beings stood, one robed and hooded, any vision of their face and body obscured by the robe and hood. Even their feet. From a distance, it almost seemed they were hovering above the ground by a few inches. The robes were blood red.

Before him knelt two others. One, a pale-skinned man, glowing red eyes and curling rams horns coming out from the sides of his head. Across his back was a massive two handed sword, the blade covered in runes of some fiendish language or another. Next to him knelt the other, this one seeming just human, wearing robes of blood red cloth, though this one's face was not covered by a hood. His features were cruel and hard, tattoos covering his face, making it look more like the leering face of some horrid humanoid beast than that of a normal human being. He seemed to bear no weapon, though his hands too were not covered by the robes. 

"You understand what is expected of you?" The hooded one said to those kneeling before him. "Nothing must stand in the way of retrieving our lord's prize. The one with the blood of Gleaves must be captured. You will ensure that the only threats do not threaten. Kill them if you can, but you cannot - "

"Our lives belong to Saeropaenes." The two kneeling individuals intoned. 

"As does all else." The hooded man agreed. "Now go, and join me at the estate if you succeed." The hooded man vanished.

Surrounding the two kneeling med - who soon stood - were two dozen squealing, oozing blubbering masses. Weak demons, barely worthy of attention. But more than enough to wreak proper destruction in a town such as this. Even the weakest of demons had a toughness unnatural to this world, ordinary weapons less effective, spells far more likely to just fizzle out to no effect.

And so it was this, the man with the sword, a black breastplate serving as his armor, approached the tavern, six of the blubbering oozing demons following behind - they did not so much walk as ooze and lurch and slide. It was this that Ikina could see, from her position outside Logar's Helm. In needlessly dramatic fashion, the armored man kicked in the door of the tavern.

Ikina hear Doruk speak. "Can I help you?" From his tone, she could guess that even as he said that, Doruk was retrieving his axe from beneath the bar - and then the sliming, blubbering oozes followed the armored man into the tavern, and the screaming began, as people started to scramble away from the door, the sound of tables overturning.

Penderghast was under attack.