The Paladin in the Abyss

"Belch! Ah, last night was truly a wild one," Bruto rubbed his bleary eyes, strolling along the streets of Mogrondale City in the early morning, "By Moradin, how much ale did I drink? How did my beard grow out so fast?"

"I'm sure the magic belt is what made you grow a big beard overnight, not the ale," Kalalin replied. He walked along, taking a lively interest in the streets of this Abyss City, "You drank a total of forty-two and a half beers last night, if you count the one you spilled on Miss Akama's chest."

"Pakos sure is something, explicitly stating she wasn't welcome and then sneaking her in..." Koula grumbled on the side, "That woman must have done it on purpose, asking Lancelot to take her back to the room to change clothes, she's way too sly!"

"I didn't go, though," Lancelot's muffled voice came, without turning his head back. He was leading the group through the labyrinthine streets of Mogrondale City at the forefront of the party.

"But you, Pakos, and she did end up in the same room for over half an hour later," Elothysia, walking beside him, pointed out, "Who knows what you three were up to…"

"First of all, the room we stayed in was Pakos's office, and mostly, it was those two discussing the future distribution of the city's interests," Lancelot said with a face full of frustration, "Secondly, can't you see what we did? Even if you can't, can't you see what we didn't do?"

"Hmm, watch out, or I might go tell Tijana on you!" Elothysia pretended to be angry but soon laughed, "Did they keep persuading you to stay?"

"They indeed did, for a little while. They think I would be a good ally, but even if I don't stay, there could still be opportunities to cooperate in the future," Lancelot turned a corner, entering a more rundown alley that descended downwards, "After all, this place is the transportation hub of the Great Abyss; I might often come to this city in the future, so there's no need to get too stiff with the locals."

As they chatted, they moved forward. The buildings beside them became lower and more dilapidated, and the smell of the air worsened. Finally, they arrived at a huge iron gate, where several Mazeleth Demons stood guard, watching the approaching group with vigilance.

"Step back! This is no place for you!" one of the guards shouted loudly at them, raising the sharp trident in his hands threateningly.

"We're headed for Beggars' Cliff," Lancelot spread his hands, signaling no threat, "This is the way, isn't it?"

"This certainly is the entrance to Beggars' Cliff, but not just anyone is allowed to pass," The Mazeleth Demon's face showed a greedy smile, "If I'm in a good mood, perhaps I can let you through..."

"Let me make myself clear, are you implying that we should give you gold?" Bruto asked with his arms crossed.

"I have never made such a demand," the insect-like creature shook its head in denial, "Move along now. Seeing you first thing in the morning is just too stomach-turning, I need a lot... to cheer up."

"Oh?" the Dwarf asked with a cold laugh, "What if I told you the man standing before you is the former Governor of Spray Springs, the Adventurer who retrieved the Eye of Sarezdon, the Knight who slew Satugura and Dugba, the honored Lord of Withering, 'Hornbreaker' Sir Lancelot? Would that make you feel any better?"

The Mazeleth Demon guard was initially startled, its chitinous face incapable of showing a change in blood color, but the sudden shift in its gaze betrayed its inner turmoil.

"My apologies, my apologies... I am terribly sorry for not recognizing you, my lord," it stammered out an apology to Lancelot, then scrambled away in a panic, bellowing at the rest of the guards to quickly open the iron gate.
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"Wishing you a pleasant day," Lancelot shrugged and led his companions through.

"Hahahaha, did you see that guy's face? It was absolutely priceless." After a while, Bruto finally burst into laughter, "Big brother, that title of yours, 'Lord of Withering,' is quite useful, isn't it? At least it saved us some money."

"Laugh it up now," Lancelot smirked, "When the Demons come knocking for a reckoning, I don't expect you to be of any help, doing well to save yourselves would be good enough."

"You can't say that, big brother..." Little Issa joined in with a raised hand, "I will cheer you on!"

"Hahaha!"

Their mirth was in stark contrast to the bleak surroundings. As the slums of Mogrondale, Beggars' Cliff's conditions were hardly an improvement over the natural lairs of wild Demons. This district, situated below the other three, was comprised of innumerable tunnels and caverns carved into the rock face, as if the very foundations of Mogrondale City had been hollowed out.

Most of the residents here were Maizeros Demons, a race of Demons over 8 feet tall with well-developed muscles and a pair of wings on their back for short glides. Unfortunately, muscle isn't a scarce commodity in the Abyss, and paired with their not-so-bright minds, it made for a terrible combination.

Demons could be cunning, evil, greedy, or cruel, but never stupid, or they would inevitably become victims or slaves to other Demons. Any Maizeros Demon wandering outside might quickly be captured by the blood war conscription teams, so most of them lived in cities of the Abyss, trading their strength for the protection of High Rank Demons.

Occasionally, some individuals were smart enough to gain their superior's favor and climb the ranks, taking on responsibilities like patrolling, such as the patrol team that had encountered the shape-shifter thief at Lake Meyne. Yet, the majority remained as impoverished city dwellers, leading miserable lives.

Demons were immortal beings who didn't require food or water to sustain themselves, yet their nature drove them to perpetually seek sensory stimulation.

The most direct was the pleasure derived from violence, and Maizeros Demons were no different. Even in a city within the Abyss, there were some limitations placed on acts of violence.

Then there were the various strong alcohols and hallucinogens that affected even Demons, but those required money in exchange.

Suitable employment for Maizeros Demons was limited, with most only hoping for temporary job opportunities, immediately spending their meager earnings on items that would allow them to momentarily forget their wretched reality.

When they didn't have gold on them, they resorted to venting their anger about their miserable lives through fights with their own kind, or on any unfortunate souls who dared to wander into the slums.