Barely shorter than the average man, a fellow with two small, white horns walked into the bar that day.  His left arm was especially red and the claw at the end of it replaced a regular hand.  He wore a simple shirt and pants, not his regular wear.  The man was given a nod by the barkeep and politely ordered his 'regular' drink, rum and coke.  Despite the man's appearance, none looked twice at him.  He waved at someone across the way, then turned his attention to a woman at the bar.  Perhaps it was the curve of her face, but she reminded him of a girl back home.

He twiddled his thumbs together and right when he was about to say something, he got the drink he ordered.  Not to mention, he saw the barkeep being especially slow about pouring a whiskey.

"Excuse me, miss," he asked after a sip of his drink, "Is your shirt... being washed?"

The horned man took a deep breath.  If the lady wanted to look like a prostitute, it was not any of his business.  "If.. you really want to attract... that sort of attention..."  He coughed disapprovingly and took another sip of his drink.  He sighed and looked to her again.  He remembered a time when he was prone to acting out and trying to go against the Creator.  If his soul could be saved, anyone's could.
With a scratch by his claw to the back of his neck, he introduced himself.

"M'lady, my name is Evander Maximilian.  I am... from the Church... of the Creator."
The Church of the Creator was not really that well known, but those who did know it knew about their rule against sex before marriage, not to mention the many other rules they had to abide by.  Despite his obvious heritage, he followed those laws to the letter.

Evander thought to himself for a moment.  What was the polite way to say someone looked like they came straight out of the brothel?  He took another deep breath and dropped the matter completely.  It wasn't worth insulting someone he had just met.  He tried to be a good little Creatorite and not judge a book based on its cover.  The fact that she reminded him of home helped, if only a little.

"Well, Raine Fucking Asawa, it was very nice to make your acquaintance," he said.  At that moment, he noticed the woman's stare.  He was about to ask if there was something on his head when he remembered, 'Right. I have horns.'  He tried to hide them as best he could with his hand, but he couldn't quite cover them up.

Evander smiled sweetly.  "It was a joke, ma'am."  He gave a relieved sigh when he heard the last bit; It wasn't insulting to call a hooker a hooker.  However much his heritage told him to indulge, he did what all good little Creatorites did when faced with that situation.

He apologized, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I am from the Church of the Creator.  I believe it is sin to do such a thing out of wedlock, and as such, I respectfully decline.  I am sure you will find a customer who would be willing to pay your fee, ma'am."  He took another drink and continued, "Know that I'm not here to judge you on your life choices."

Evan perked up.  His horns grew slightly and the claws on his left hand grew in size.  A maiden was in distress!  He rushed out of the bar and stopped next to a corner near where the soldiers took his new acquaintance.  He reached for his sword, only to find it wasn't there!  His claw would have to do, he figured, as he stepped on a spider.  He would have to use a weaker soul for the time being.

Near the smallest of the bunch, a long stream of harmful shadow energy zoomed past.  Out from the darkness stepped the demon's spawn, claw out and another Ghost Slash readying.  "If you have any wits about you, you will leave," he said in a calm manner.  Admittedly, he was smaller than most of his newfound foes.

"/Saoya, lend me your power,/" he said in what sounded like an ancient tongue.  The shadows on his arm twisted and contorted into ice shards.  He could be thrown in jail?  Oh, to laugh and laugh he did.  The good little church boy flung his new "Ice Slash" at the man in front.  A long stream of ice slashed right through the man and licked another.  The man in front stood there, covered in magical ice.  Evander noticed the man licked by his attack took a second to notice.

He pushed the man over and soon, all that was left of him were frozen chunks of human flesh in armor.  That was another soul to add to his power.  "Suppose I'm thrown in jail," he said as he walked over to Raine and the unfriendlies.  "What's stopping me from getting out?  Bars?  Walls?  You underestimate me."  More shadow gathered around his claw, this time acting as a blade.  "Too bad this isn't a fair fight." For them, he thought with a frown.  It would have been much better on his conscience if it were fair.

"Ugh," said another of them. The second just thought he could beat up the little punk and go back to his business.  He drew his blade against the so-called punk.  He found an opportunity to attack, a quick thrust toward the heart.  Evander moved, but not enough.  Blood trickled down from a cut in his arm.  That small victory led the idiot to gloating.  Something about how he was told not to help, yadda yadda yadda.  The horned man stabbed his shadow blade through a crack under the chest plate.  Honestly, if he was going to have armor, it should at least have been good armor.  The second fell over, but he wasn't quite dead.  The occasional moan from the man let them know.  "You... fucking bastard..."

With that done, Evan looked to the last one.  The last had finally drawn his sword.  He trembled as Evander grew closer to him.  The horned man sighed.  "After what just happened, do you really want to do something like that?"  The last of the three dropped his sword and ran for his life.  The shadows dissipated and the weakened soul was released.

He knelt over by Raine.  "Are you all right?" he asked immediately.  He noticed her torn wrap nearby. Obviously, she couldn't put that on again.  In a swift motion, he gave her the shirt off of his back.  He stood and offered his hand to her with a sweet smile on his face.  He ignored the cut on his arm, a scrape compared to the kind of beating he could have taken.

Evander looked toward Raine's hands.  Her gentle touch gave him a sense of peace, if only for a moment.  He heard the questions about his magic.  How could he explain his magic use in a way that would not misrepresent it as an evil act?  Soul Magic was not usually a good art to begin with.

"The ice you saw was a mixture of Soul Magic and demonic summoning," he explained, "I channeled power from the soul of my Great-Grandfather, Saoya.  He was an infamous demon of ice in my blood father's realm.  Soul Magic is... It can be used for the good of others, by taking the spirits of the evil and using their essence for good.  I cannot give a demonstration right now, though.  I let the soldier's spirit go."  Not to mention, the spider was used so much, it dissolved.

He chuckled a little at the last question.  "The Creator made magic for a reason, did he not?  Why would He make it if He did not want it to be used?  The Church only wishes to protect what little members it has left."