Alvah: Demon of Attrition (Jefferson Shindig)

The stage was set, and all the pieces were in place; their commander had the ammunition to strike down the foe, and there was already one suitably occupied in keeping him from moving or leaving the area outright. Everything had begun and been set into motion, and now it was like waiting for a science experiment to complete itself; when the solution boiled, something amazing would happen. Or nothing at all, and one would need to recalibrate the reactions. Jhambala watched with dispassionate eyes as another party approached to provide Alistair with yet more tools, and folded its hands over its chest.

The beast was quite content to sit by and watch this unfold, however fate would dictate; it had been chosen after all for its capacity to judge the worth or lackthereof in others. A creature such as this wouldn't act if not goaded to or given suitable cause, as it simply didn't fit; it was far easier to be impassive if one served solely as an observer, and thus far the demon they were fighting had struck it as remarkably bland, hardly even worth learning or remembering the name of. To raise its hand and guide an arrow, or still the thrashings of some pained beast as it went about its death throes would serve no real purpose.

But there was a voice niggling in the back of Jhambala's head, something it had almost forgotten even existed. The voice of a creature well used to having its orders followed, a creature that knew innately that its will would win out against all others, and was prepared to wait for the sun to extinguish itself to make its point if needed. Jhambala watched Alistair notch the first arrow, and its impassive faces furrowed their brows, as if irritated, for the first time.

Trust, but confirm. The boy is powerful enough to do amazing things. But there is no good reason to put so much on his shoulders just like this. Allow him to make the greatest use of the resources he has been given, and do try to be mindful he was made a commander only ten minutes ago.

With a faint, wordless exhalation, Jhambala vanished in a crackling of static, a faint purplish-black corona surrounding its body as it appeared behind Alvah and Calypso, its hands reaching out like an angel's enveloping wings, aiming to gouge and pluck at the demon's eyes. It would be a temporary distraction at best, and that was even assuming he could succeed; just trying to shove his thumbs into those sockets could've led to them being bit off as eyelashes turned into blades, or something similarly absurd; the malleability of a demon's form was something Jhambala was well familiar with, however irksome it would be. Even if blinded, it would only serve to slow their opponent for a few breaths.

For long enough for a single arrow to pierce his heart, and go to work, filling the demon's entire body with the corrosive influence of a creature that knew exactly how one would go about regenerating from deep wounds, and cause cells to reproduce rapidly.

"Cease all this noisy struggling. Kill us all or die, but in either case do it quietly."