NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: CLosed

Music of the Fall, Music to Nightmare by ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DA6x36FkayQ )

The sea boiled, and the air burned. Like doomed Atlantis before it, the land was rent asunder to plunge forever - vanished into the abyssal pit. What had once been an emerald isle serenely afloat amid a deep blue sea, was now shattered remnants foundering upon that which had become as blood, stinking and curdled. A sullen crimson tide staining a barely liquid morass.

A land, if one can find the optimism and the generosity to term it thusly, held in the virulent grip of that which should not be Here, must not be allowed to remain in this Realm. For it is intrinsically inimical to this Realm, and only the barrier I hold keeps it effects contained.

But there shall always be heroes, though this is an unlikely assortment…

Death’s Daughter (http://www.atddm.com/jeye.jpg), Death’s Errand Boy (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=14421654&postcount=3) – yes he’s the one that termed himself that, though he's far better known simply as Mr. Murphy – A Demon Lord (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=14423500&postcount=4), An Angelically Elvin Empress (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=14421414&postcount=2), An Immortal (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=14423725&postcount=5) and someone (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=14425914&postcount=8) whom Death doesn’t necessarily like. But one with plenty of …fodder… to work with.

The Adversary is formidable, as are his minions…

A feminine figure, little more than a shadow delineated by eyes like ice afire spoke through clenched jaws

"I don't know what that is, but for damn certain it isn't my Father."

And something unquantifiable, which hovered next to her held it's own cold rage, for only Death, or Death's chosen Heir, rode the Pale Horse. And whatever that mockery of Death was, it Wasn't riding the Pale Horse. It knew -for it's rider stood beside it, her preternaturally pale skin blushed with icy anger.

The Pale Horse did not like imitators, and had nothing but contempt for concept of 'imitation is the sincerest form of flattery'. It swung it's head toward it's mistress, undaunted and eager to be about the business of taking this rude interruption down a notch...but preferably several.

~~~~~~~~Not long before~~~~~~~~

The tremors that wracked the Realm, the wholesale deaths wrought upon millions had wakened me...

The dark was unrelieved, no light intruded, for I needed none. My eyes snapped open as I awoke instantly, clear headed, both appraising and appraised of what was transpiring, the untimely destruction of Imitira.

My love slept on and I looked down upon his face, the faintest of smiles lifting the corners of my lips, though they were mostly unaccustomed to smiling. I could not help it, he brought more to my life than I could ever express or repay. I reached out, stroking ever so lightly down his dark brown hair to caresses a ruggedly handsome face. "Sleep beloved, I am called, for as others are answering, so must Death. I will return" I spoke low, the merest breath of a sound, but I knew that Casca would remember my words upon waking and know that I had to attend to things beyond the ken of mortal man. On soundless feet, and casting no shadow, I packed such as I needed and left the place where I and my love dwelt.

The Bible calles it the Pale Horse, but it is not an equine, no matter that it could, should it chose, look like such. I called it mine.

Currently it looked much like a highly advanced fighter ramjet, though nothing close to the design existed. It pleased it to look like this since I prefered to fly whenever possible. Though it does not actually fly, as it is in no way bound by the law of gravity, or any of the so-called 'natural laws'. It pleases it to let me think I am at the controls. Every one should have an illision or two. Just as long as one knows they are illusions.

Searching the zone of destruction the Pale Horse chose a site close to the barrier seperating the core of the disturbance from the rest of the Realm. A tiny spit of rock, which barely breached the surface of the soiled grey sea, was observed and landing made. It's 'cockpit' canopy lifted to allow me to eel out and set foot on the slime slick granite.

Once on the ground I stretched extravagantly, as I took in the wreckage adrift on the choppy waves, and the nearly opaque shield to the south. A artic wind blew grit about, snatching at my hair with greedy fingers of ice. A hip length mane of glossy jet it furled banner like before the breeze released it. It's gleaming darkness makes my inhuman, milk white skin and my eyes even more prominent. They say my eyes are those of ice with hidden fire, a color almost imagined, shimmering with the ethereal blue of the hottest flames.

I am clad in my custom armor. Second skin tight, form fitted matte black leathers that - to those with the Sight - glow with arcane energies - etched and inlaid with traceries of ebon cold iron in complex warding patterns. And those were just the protections that others could decern, but not by any means the whole. Supple, thigh high boots of seemingly liquid material, and matching fingerless gloves add extra protection. My claws not noticible when retracted are formidible weapons in their own right.

Though I didn't really feel the cold - it was more a desolation of the soul - I shivered and slid into my long duster of matching hue. Though when a blast of even colder air, laden with indescribable odours, snagged it and managed to lift a corner of the heavy leather, the lining of deepest crimson silk could be seen. I pulled a battered ladies fedora from the same storage bay that had held the duster. Properly tilted it shadowed my face. I like an air of mystery.

From another compartment come my weapons. Sleek psi weapons to ride on my thighs, and a pair of custom forged Jody Sampson Seaward Katanas across my shoulders in their own quick draw rigs – though such was really not needed – they would be called to my hands at the speed of thought should there be reason. The blades shimmer with the forged pattern of fine damascene work and hum with a sentient hunger.

“Rest” At my low voiced command the Pale Horse shimmered into invisibility, and with soundless steps I turned, striding tiger like to the waters edge - relaxed, powerful and supremely confident of my abilities. My senses are not those of a human, though I might still wear the form of one. And I miss vanishingly little. Such as the signs and portents that others were coming. My lips quirked in a little cats grin as I wondered just exactly whom else would involve themselves. And can they keep up with me?

Death’s daughter has come. I, J’age, am on the hunt, and I had never failed to find my quarry.

The sky was dull and gray; there was a slight hint of rain in the sky, yet it had been like that for the last few days. It seemed to match the mood those in the country. The quake that destroyed Imitoria and shook the Golden Simatar down to its core was killed tens of thousands. Millions more were now homeless and lying in flooded hospital rooms attempting to nurse their wounds. The dead however, were the ones that interested Renny Nevakivi.

He was drawn to the stories of numerous conflicts that plagued the region for centuries as well as the wealth of variety of sentient species that populated it. Death drew Renny around the world as he expanded his art through countless hours of practice over freshly cold and rotted flesh. He was getting better, he felt his ability to channel his force coming easier and easier, control over the dead became easier.

Renny Nevakivi sat alone in the train car cabin. His feet were propped up against the bench on the other side of the cabin, his head resting on the window. The faded blue jeans he wore were starting to tear and break around the knees, he’d replace them in due time. He wore a plain; blue t-shirt and a pair of steel-toed, brown hiking boots.

Renny shuddered slightly, the air condition in the car was cranked to maximum, and though he spent much of his time around cold flesh, he despised the cold. Renny grabbed the brown leather jacket sitting in the seat next to him. Underneath the jacket sat a black leather belt, a single crimson bar ran down the whole length of the belt, a silver buckle with a ruby sat in the middle. Several leather pouches were attached to the belt.


An hour later, Renny had left the train and started walking along a two-lane road. An army duffel bag was slung around his back; the belt was just visible under his jacket. Renny looked on either side of the two-lane road; all he could see on either side was miles and miles of trees. Despite the apparent isolation, he could feel it, he could start to taste the Death that beckoned him.

Renny pulled out a map and studied it; the train had left him a near two-hour march to the next largest settlement. He didn’t mind the march; he had walked thousands of miles in the last fifteen years, by now there wasn’t much if any pain.

Renny put the map away, he felt Death growing with each step he took.

Nez'gah stepped out of the abyss between worlds and found himself standing upon a barren piece of land, surrounded by the harsh sea of what many in the region called the Dragon Ocean. He didn't care for the name but it would do, for now. The dead zone was an eerie place by the standards of most, little appeared to live here and the creatures that did certainly struggled to maintain their lives. Such things didn't bother Nez'gah, of course. When his master's plans succeeded, this dead zone would seem like a paradise in comparison to the rest of Fatal Terrain.

Stretching his wings outward, Nez'gah took to the air and leisurely made his way towards the barrier that sealed away the dead zone proper, the place where this Death creature was running around with it's minions. Nez'gah could sense it slightly, a malicious force to be sure. Credit had to be given to this Shalamar woman, she had managed to contain this thing so far and that certainly required a level of power not common around here. Time would tell if it would be enough to save her from other forces though.

Now hovering before the barrier that was only perceivable to those with certain talents, Nez'gah scanned the area for a sign of the others that were meant to be gathering for this task. The idea of working with his enemies was not appealing to Nez'gah but Arithon had been quite clear on what was to be done and thus it would be. Not finding anyone immediately, Nez'gah grumbled to himself and began unleashing small magical discharges that would clearly highlight his presence to anyone in the local area, whether they had the ability to truly interpret the signal or not.

Nothing had been said about a specific meeting point so Nez'gah had no idea whether his 'comrades' for this task were already inside the barrier or simply hadn't arrived yet. Hopefully things would become clear soon, Nez'gah lacked the patience of his master.

Off to Nez'Gah's side, a wave moved of its own accord, and atop the wave, simply standing there, Aeris stood with her arms stretched out slightly to direct the waters. She moved swiftly but slowed as she noted the beacons being fired off by the demon-lord. At last, the wave settled down and dispersed, yet she remained atop the waters as if it were hard earth. She kept distance between them, but remained in speaking range.

"Your patience is incredible." she noted to him, though the mockery was evident in her tone. She waved away a possible retribution, turning now to look upon the now visible dead zone being contained by Shalamar. She turned her eyes downward, penetrating the seas, seeking all forms of life still struggling to survive...yet found none.

These waters, simply put, were just too toxic at this time. She would have to do something to dilute such toxicity later. For now, she returned her attention to Nez'Gah. "I imagine you've not waited long, knowing you as I do." She tilted her head toward the dead zone. "What do you think?"

Nez'gah watched with distaste as the wave carrying Aeris approached his position. Despite her abilities she chose to travel by what many would call a magically mundane means. Whilst Nez'gah had never actually met Aeris, Arithon had briefed him on the Empress and she certainly came across as one of the many creatures that he could easily despise, even if she was an immortal like him.

"I imagine you've not waited long, knowing you as I do. What do you think?"

Scowling at the comparably small figure, Nez'gah gazed between the barrier and the elf.

"Your assumptions are what made your nation such an easy target, elf. I think that since you are an acquittance of this Shalamar that maintains the barrier, you would be more knowledgeable about gaining entrance."

The demon's contempt was plainly obvious in his speech. There was no denying Aeris was a being of power but as far as Nez'gah was concerned she was not worthy of it and could be of more use feeding the struggling creatures on the outskirts of this dead zone.

"I am really, really disappointed in Arithon. I had thought better of him." My voice was crisply cool holding not a micron of disappointment - though indeed I had expected him to come himself. And this one was a poor substitute. I finished my Step, coming fully into Reality, and stood between the two. I wasn’t sure that I trusted Aeris. She had a primal hatred for demons that was all but limitless.

"And you might possess yourself of that rarest quality in a demonic, one that your lord and master possesses in full - Patience!" I snorted as I gave Nez'gah a glowering look. Yes I had to look well up at him, he was currently standing over nine foot tall and I didn’t even make six, though that was but by an inch. "You really want a welcoming committee immediately upon entering? When you are all still disoriented from the crossing and weakened?”

Inviting the Adversary to be prepared and waiting for them - while I was mostly certain that my Barrier stopped any trace of the demons arcane advertisement from passing through, I prefered to err on the side of caution. But it was not I that might be faceing an ambush.

Their crossing was not going to be as simple as opening a door and stepping though. That barrier spanned Realms - it had to what was within did as well. And I wasn’t about to relax even a part of it. No, they were going to have to cross though via passing though a Realm most of them I strongly doubt will enjoy.

"I am really, really disappointed in Arithon. I had thought better of him."

Nez'gah's gaze fell onto Shalamar as she appeared between himself and Aeris. Whilst she was certainly worthy of contempt for the fact she stood opposed to Arithon, Shalamar was more tolerable than Aeris in many respects.

"He does not care for your expectations and hopes. I am here now and if my master chooses to join us, he shall."

With the appearance of Shalamar, Nez'gah ceased his arcane broadcast. He'd been careful to ensure it wasn't strong enough to even consider putting a dint in the barrier containing their target. From what he had been told, the element of surprise might be somewhat useful there.

Despite Shalamar's height, Nez'gah had been briefed on the woman and it had been stressed that she was far more powerful than what her sleight frame might portray. So far there had not been a major encounter between Arithon and Shalamar but if it were to occur there was bound to be significant destruction and that wasn't quite something Arithon wanted. His goal was never meaningless destruction, there was always some purpose, even if it was not obvious to others.

It had been a long and awkward explination, one he had hoped would suffice for Vakaras. He could not simply tell the diplomat that he had felt the emergance of the false Death in the west. Doing so would not only reveal his origins, but likely result in Numura trying to make the voyage with him. He had seen the young Lord in battle, and knew that he could hold his own against the most of the mortal realms' best, but Sukri knew that these were no mortals of this realm. Thus Sukri had to make up a lie that one of his relatives was stranded somewhere in the west, and he was going off to see what he could do. Vakaras offered to send an escort with him, but Sukri was forced to decline for the same reasons why he had been forced into the lie. He disliked having to lie to his friends but the thought of any further harm coming to them was not a pleasant one, and something he would do everthing in his power to prevent.

He then went to Shingolin, to meet with the Empress herself. Only she could know of his true mission, and in essance, his own true self. He choose to reveal this at great risk, for he was there all those years ago when the truth of Elsie's own origin was revealed, and knew it was within her own untapped power to send him back to the Astral plane. His mission here was simply, secure the use of a Sylan for the trip to the "Dead zone" as he called it. The Empress either didn't care or didn't put together the facts about Sukri's true being and readily agreed to allowing him the use of one of the sylans.

With a speedy and magical mount at his call, the immortal began making his way across Fatal Terrain, making notes of the damage still to be undone from that monsterious tidal wave. It seemed as if the very thing that held the world together had been split in the creation of that furious act of nature. He could still see the roofs of houses just barely peeking up from underneath the water that had yet to recind. It was then that he wondered if the appearance of this false Death and the timing of that disaster were not just mere coincedences, that somehow the two events were related. It did not matter whether or not they were, but it did strike Sukri as odd. If one was to enter this world in such a grand and destructive fashion, wiping out an entire nation with it's arrival, and then creating mass devestation with the wave, why would it choose to remain in the same place? Surely a being or force of that power would be lusting for a chance to continue forth with it's might and ravage the world.

His sylan was proving well worth the risk as Sukri could feel the cold presence of the false Death growing stronger every second as his mount made it's way across the winds. He could feel his mount's uneasiness as a barrier came into view over the horizon. The sylan's were proof of life's creativeness and desire to persevere, and the sylan itself wanted only to protect the good in the world. As they continued their approach, the uneasiness turned into a full scowl, and Sukri could see why. There were three beings already around the barrier, one of which included something that resembled a demonlord.

"Well, no one ever said I'd be going alone or in good company..."

"Real grownup there, Skippy. Sayin' the demon equivalent of 'My big brother will come if he feels like it, but he sent the runt instead' ain't gonna get anybody to quake in their boots. Let alone the lady who's holdin' back the somebody else's hell." I said as I stepped around the conveintly placed and concealingly large rock on the edge of the impromptu rendezvous.

It's a good entrance, if I do say so.

There's the Tolkien Tsaritsa, the Irritated Imp, and well...Lady Shalamar. I don't have an alliterative nickname for her. She makes even me edgy. And oh? A newcomer on the horizon, hopefully he's got good eyes because I only want to do this once.

I can imagine what they're seeing. I'm a seemingly average human wearing wrinkled olive drab khaki trousers festooned with pockets, an ever clean white button up shirt and then a creased and worn leather flight jacket. A Catawaban ebon skull and crimson heart patch and patch with big black one with a trio of deltas banking around it adorned my right and left sleeves, respectively. My old jump boots scuff through the bare layer of ash to the burnt rock below.

This worn, utterly human form, that'd be me, is entirely unconcerned and nonchalant standing before some of the great movers of the region. No, I don't even meet their eyes. I'm looking down at my hands cupped in front of my mouth as I light a cigarette. I take a few puffs on the cancer stick...funny, it isn't going to kill me; none of them have thus far...before lowering my hands and leaning on the rock I'd just come around.

I hold in a lungful of smoke as I look between them all, sorta waiting for that new arrival to get closer. I really don't want to have to do this again. My pause is as much for them as it is for me. Now they can see more than my dashingly wind-ruffled brown hair. They can see my cerulean eyes as they pass flicker over them. They can see the Victorianly rakish scar that slashes down across my face and admire my tanned, weathered, and rugged good lookings.

So caught up in my own self admiration, I remind myself that I have to breath. I let out the lung full of smoke from my nostrils and take in a deep breath of the rotten, sulfur laden air at the edge of the redecorated Imitora. I raise my cigarette and take another puff and let the smoke out quickly this time. With the cigarette up, I wave it about and use it to punctuate my words. "Now, Lady Shal's got a point." I don't have a pithy nickname for her but I can be flippant about anyone's full name. "You really wanna be sendin' out flares, Skippy? You that lonely and scared that you need company?"

I take another drag on the cigarette and let it out. "I can see happening a couple of ways. We just stand her yappin', don't have much choice really, and a few things are likely to happen. Someone's gonna show. Now will it be something uglier than you, Skippy? I hope not, or we'll get some direction." I shrugged.

"Either way there'll at least be one less of'em comin'." I flick my still cupped hand, the one I'd used to light the cigarette. I hadn't used my lighter. It was still somewhere in my jacket. No, when I flicked my hand open I sent one of the demon's sparklers back at him.

Let'em figure how I appeared, caught that sparkler, and used it to light my smoke. I ain't gonna tell'em. I might tell y'all later.

I think I know why my Sire wanted us kept apart. I might be laughing too hard to do my job, or nigh on killing him. I let out a breath, and a wry not too much of a grin twists my lips. When Lady Shalamar had shown up it clued me in on exactly how we were going to get through, or more likely around, said barrier.

Which isn't a simple barrier at all, but a full on sphere with its anchor point internal to it. I'd love to know how she did that, but I'll pry later. Lady Shalamar is seriously scary at times and for me to say that? That’s remarkable in it's own right, but that's neither here nor there...

Just like me at the moment, and usually.

I sigh and move fully into reality before the small chuckles at The Murphy's quips and put downs leave my lips. And no I hadn't given any warning I was already here.

Lady Shalamar had sensed my presence. But then again she knows me far better than most, seeing that her sister was my mother. Though Shalamar had left this Realm for Shadow before I was born. And I'd never be so informal to her as to call her aunt. We weren't that close to each other, but then again I don't think any one is. Sometimes she is too much the cat that walked by herself and all places were alike to her. But maybe after thirteen thousand years I'll be the same. Now that’s a scary notion

"I suppose you just can't make us a door like you did last time Lady Shalamar?" I ask as I become visible. It was a fairly futile hope, but maybe I had guessed wrong. I'd like to be proven wrong on this one.

I nodded to Aeris, we'd worked together before, on the rescue of her husband, the Tanaaran Archon, Robert Ryan Fortier ~ Hexx. I could trust her to hold up her part, she was a very formidable and creative lady.

The big, and so much wanting to be so very bad demonic was an unknown, but I'd give it a minimal respect - it was a a Demon after all, and they were more than moderately dangerous by their very nature. But it was also their nature that so often proved their down fall.

The Murphy? My Father had well made sure I knew who he was and what he could do, but had also made sure we'd never met in the flesh.

The one still flying in on the I’ve-never-seen-one-before was another unknown to me but it looked as if Shalamar was expecting him, as I watched her wave a greeting.

Nez'gah gazed down on the all so cocky man that puffed away on one of those human smoke sticks. He was disgustingly human in appearance and words, far over confident of their own importance and ability and staggeringly stupid in the face of their betters. Of course, this one would not be here if he was a mere human, obviously there was something different about him and he proved such when he released one of the small energy beacons.

"Skippy, you can speak to me about being grown up once you've passed your five thousandth birthday. If you you manage to stay alive... Your bravado and talk of feelings are not important. Or would you rather we stand out here all day and count how many times you can say 'Skippy'?"

Normally Nez'gah had no patience for such blatant idiocy but this man was not his objective and thus not important, even if he was practically begging to have his head removed.

Before the little verbal sparring could continue much further, Nez'gah noted the appearance of a further two additions to this so called team, one simply appearing amongst them whilst the other approached on some kind of vehicle. Hopefully it would be the last of them, Nez'gah's patience for these people was already wearing thin and this mission hadn't even begun yet.

I didn't care a whit that the demons patience was wearing thin - and that it was, was staggeringly obvious. Nor did I care what it thought of my disappointment at the failure of Arithon himself to partake. I’d wiped the Universe with bigger and badder than he. But still, in my eyes, it spoke very badly of Arithon. But I limited myself to a minimal shrug and turned to nod at J'age as she stepped from betwixt and between.

“I suppose you just can't make us a door like you did last time Lady Shalamar?"
The look I favored her with should make it very clear of what I think of her asking the obvious. Her discernment is excellent and by her question she has figured out the way within. None of them are going to like it, but as the old saw goes they don't have to, just do it.

With the approach of the Immortal arriving on the back of a Sylan that leaves just one still elsewhere. While I feel reasonably certain that J'age could handle the burden of multiples, she does not yet possess one of the Gifts needed. The last one does though. Though J’age is going to scream like a scaled cat, and from her perspective, perhaps rightfully so. But if …

I look over at Aeris who is doing her best to ignore - and succeeding admirably - the constant irritation if not out right pain that the Demons mere presence must bring her.

If Aeris can tolerate his presence, so J’age will have to bear the presence of a Necromancer.

“Dear would you acquire this one for us.” I requested of Aeris, while mentally giving her his image and current location.

"Mommy!"

"Why did this happen!?"

"God! Please God help us!"

"Katie! Benjamin!"

"I didn't deserve this! Why did this...

Renny shut out the dead. Those who died in peace were quiet and at times they even spoke to each others. Those who died in violence screamed with eternal lungs, they screamed to their deity, their loved ones, damning and screaming for them all. Karnack said those dead would spend decades or centuries screaming until they resigned themselves to Death's world. His teacher was another kind of dead, the silent, the ones so drawn away from the dead's highways a Necromancer could spend several lifetimes studying the dead and never find the silent. They were the ones whose knowledge that every Necromancer and Necroscope craved like a drug.

Renny was sitting on a dike, behind him the woods stretched for miles, yet in front of him was a massive inland sea. It wasn't natural, the land before him used to be hundreds of farms and nature parks. However several damns in the area had broken under the might of the earth's shifting and had emptied their contents over hundreds of miles. Thousands now resided underneath the waters.

Trees and the tops of buildings and telephone lines were visible, reaching into the distance. He had read in a paper he had picked up the Simatarian Army and Navy Engineer Corps and National Wildlife Service stated it could take months or even in the harder hit areas upwards of a year or so before the water could be brought down and contained. Their estimates didn't include cleanup.

Renny sighed, as he had plucked his way through the sea of dead, he picked some who were worthwhile to read, yet the screams of their brethren had drowned out the worthy ones. It might be possible to reach them, but it would be a challenge.

Renny removed a small flask from his jacket and made a quick pull. Screwing the lid back on, he tucked the flask back into his jacket. Yes, this land would be a decent starting point.

Nez'Gah's attitude was pushing the limits for Aeris's tolerance, but she knew that the human was deliberately egging him on. As soon as he had started speaking, she realized he was a cocky bastard, one who seemed to think he was above them. Humans are naive. she thought to herself before turning her attention to Shalamar and nodding ever so slightly at her silent request.

She turned her attention back to where she had come, and her hand moved upward as if unzipping the very air before her. With a flick of her wrist, the portal's edges expanded and she saw Renny sitting there, his back to the portal. A small grin crossed her face for a moment as she reached forward and wrapped a hand around his shoulder.

She pulled him with surprising strength backward into the portal before he could react.

Renny unwrapped the summer sausage and sliced off a small chunk with a pocket knife. Holding the chunk of meat into his mouth, he rewrapped the rest and put it back into his duffel bag. Wiping the knife off, he slid it into one of the pouches on his belt. Renny took a bite of the sausage, slowly chewing as he relaxed. As he looked over the water, he could see dots moving on the water, probably light craft, fishing corpses out. Finishing his brief meal, he wiped off his hands on his jeans and grabbed the duffel strap with one hand.

The hair on the back of his neck rose, his heart slowed, something was close, something. The man grunted as he felt a powerful grip latch onto his shoulder and pull him backwards. Renny blinked in surprise.

His mind snapped into action as he felt his back strike hard ground. Renny's eyes didn't have much time to focus, what he did see though was a tear in the middle of the air closing, he saw the dike where he had just been sitting. Renny rolled to his feet, during the movement, he drew a wicked, black handled dagger from the belt. However, as his eyes focused on what was around him, it put him on edge, while it did confuse him slightly.

Taking a brief look around, he noted (with some inner sense of slight dread) but expressed little outward surprise as he saw a demon a few feet away. The confusion overtook the dread when his eyes flicked over the other, more human persons around him. He lowered the blade, not wishing to appear completely offensive to whoever these were. He could feel death all around him, part of him wondered if he was at some highway or intersection. Whatever it was, he would listen.

Renny arched an eyebrow. "May I be of service?"

With the appearance of three more characters, two of whom looked very much human, I decided it would be best to make my entrance. I whispered into the great beast's furry ears and he quickly dropped from our hovering into a rapid descent. As we sped towards the spit of land that held the odd collection of individuals who would no doubt be assisting me, or I them, on the crusade, I made my preparations. Suddenly I jump straight into the air and do a forward flip, making it so my head and arms are coming straight down, looking as if I was about to take a great plunge into the deep blue, as my sylan pulls up and away. Just as I am about to make a huge splash and attract the likes of anything living within the mile, I put out my hands and use the water to spring into a forward summersault, landing on my feet, still on top of the water. Without a word, I calmly walk the remaining distance to the spit of land as my transport makes its' way back home after fufilling its' purpose.

As I look around, and up to for the demonlord, at my companions, I know that I have found good stock to make this venture with. I heard the tale of Shalamar's exploits from Vakaras, and knew that any mission with her own board instantly had their chances of success vastly go up. The humans each had something deep inside their essance that showed that they were more than what meets the eye, but what that was, I am unsure. There is also the powerful elf Aeris, who needs no introduction in the region. The other I have no idea who or what she is, as her entire essance is shaded in a mist that I have never seen before. I will keep my eyes on her closely until I know more about her.

"I take it we are all gathered her for the same reason then. The false Death?" I ask, trying to break the ice.

[OOC: Some or all of this is a joke. Sorry, Shal :D]

I'm so misunderstood. I really am.

I smirked at the demon. "Awww...isn't that preciousssss. Yer still countin' birthdays. Me? I stopped counting after my twenty-third lifetime, and stopped counting lifetimes after eighty-three. Skippy, yer mommy must be real helpful keepin' count that high, and I'll bet she knits the best sweaters for ya."

Okay, somewhat misunderstood. I'm flippant with everyone. It's defense mechanism Freud once told me. But feeling above everyone? Perish the thought.

I only know I'm above some people.

Lady Aeris, Empress of Tarlachia? Naw, not above her. I might be coarse, rude, and thoroughly not of her station, but she is the wife of my cousin's future brother in law. I'm really being nice to her, really I swear. J'age? Hey, she's my client's daughter, that client being Death himself. I know she looks so cute in pigtails. I saw the picture. How could I be mean to someone who used to be that cute when she was little? The guy winging in on the magical nag? I don't know him yet. Can't rightly abuse those I don't know yet, not fair.

But the demon? Oh yeah, I sure as hell know I'm above his scum-sucking sort. Yeah, I'm eggin' him on. Defense mechanism, remember? It's bleedin' off a valve of anger and hurt that would have me kill the sumabitch otherwise. So if I can get by just insultin' his mama and his masculinity, I think I'm bein' petty...I mean pretty noble.

What dark secret do I harbor that fuels this burning hate? Why the hell would I tell y'all? I don't know y'all from Adam's cat. I've told one person...well in this lifetime. She's the only one I feel right tellin', 'cuz she'll understand. Y'all? Yer so wrapped up in ongoing Victorian themes of society, you'd never understand, so buzz off.

Suffice to say, it's bad. Life shattering, well, Lives shattering 'cuz it took me a while to get over. A bunch of life times...and I'm only now feelin' like I'm comin' out of the woods.

I took another puff from my cigarette and turned slightly from the demon. Not giving him my side or my back, I've been nose to snout with too many of the bastards to do that. I watched Ladies Aeris and Shalamar. The Elven Empress, good alliteration there, was bein' smug herself, unzipping the air and all. Good work, clean teleport.

I've seen worse. Trust me, much worse, sorta why I'm around.

And the guy she pulled out? Hey, my kind of character. Rough around the edges, slovenly dressed, but with that undefinable air of mystery and edge of danger...hmm...maybe he's too much like me.

"May I be of service?" he said.

Whew, not like me at all, too helpful. Damn, I was worried they'd gotten my dopplganger for a sec.

I looked onto Shalamar to wait for an answer. I didn't like her silence. When the meanest, toughest, smartest person in the room is quiet. It doesn't bode well.

Damn.

I've got a bad feeling about this.

There I said it.

Despite his efforts to keep calm, Nez'gah really was losing his cool in the face of a few petty words. His temper had always been a failing, one that had made him an easily controllable minion for Arithon. Of course Nez'gah didn't know this, even demons could be ignorant of their own character flaws, especially in the throes of murderous rage.

Lowering himself closer to the ground, Nez'gah shifted into the Catawaban's line of sight, the foul stench of his unclean mouth radiating around the man. Those of sufficient ability could sense the energy coursing through the demon lord increase significantly as he brought a clawed hand the size Murphy's torso up before the man's face.

It would have been obvious to everyone that surrounding that Nez'gah was furious and a conflict was inevitable despite the fact the group had assembled for a common purpose.

"Your ignorance is once again blatantly clear once you open your mouth. Perhaps you'd care for me to assist you with this issue by removing it?"

At that point the claws began to extend upon Nez'gah's hand and began making an honest move towards Murphy, his intent quite clear. No doubt the others would react but Nez'gah was beyond caring, the least he could do was remove the head off this pest. As Nez'gah continued his movement the world melded into dull, blurry colours and he was gone.

Standing somewhat to the side of the group was a young looking man in a simple white robe, his shoulder length black hair neatly in place and arms folded behind his back. The man certainly was not large and didn't appear remarkable in the slightest, and yet Arithon had never felt the need to take on so called 'impressive forms'. The truth was that the human form was never impressive, simply somewhat practical in certain situations. Casually walking towards the group, Arithon took up a place close to Lady Shalamar before sweeping his gaze around those assembled.

"I must apologise for Nez'gah, he is quick to anger over such little nuisances. A pity he did not get to display his usefulness here, perhaps you may all have a chance to deal with him in the future."

Turning directly to Lady Shalamar, Arithon gave her a slight nod. Despite the fact they were technically opponents, there was a measure of curious respect between the pair, although he gathered she probably wasn't impressed he'd sent a minion.

"Here I am, Shalamar."

So far Arithon had done nothing to antagonise Aeris, his mere presence was enough to do that for now. Of course, he didn't really care how she or anyone else here really felt. Whilst this 'Death' creature was an unknown variable, the destruction of Fatal Terrain at it's hands was certainly not the worst possible scenario. Whilst other plans were in motion, serving Arithon's own designs, there would always be more worlds and more people. After all, what was one world out of billions?

Damn, that was the most fun I've had in a while. Totally makes up for all the bad juju I'm feelin' off Lady Shal.

I didn't move. I didn't react. Not to that bag of brimstone and hot air, why would I? A mitt as big as my torso, Freddy Kreuger claws, real scary but no substance. If I had a nickle for every time that happened, I'd stock a casino's worth of slot machines and make some real cash.

Okay...so I'm grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

But this new guy? Wavey lining away a big ass, ugly demon takes David Copperfield off the list of possibilities real quick. Incongruous, pristine white robe, clean, unassuming but that vague tall, dark, and handsome appearence? That's the automatic big, glowin' magnesium flare that should clue ya to Big Bad Demonlord. Bastards think that's funny.

So Ironical. Ha. Ha.

Maybe I shoulda toned it down. Is it better to have a minor imp or his master? A loose cannon or the one that's going monologue and quietly smirk and plot behind our backs? Damn. Probably should tone it down from now on.

Who invited him anyways? Like the Bear said, it's like haulin' an accordion along on a huntin' trip. It won't do anything helpful, just make noise.

No, wait. That analogy isn't complete.

Stuff an Bouncing Betty in the squeeze box. There. Complete analogy. Because like a demon, the first time you try to get any use out of the modified squeeze box, it'll kill you.

Thank you Aeris I nodded to the Empress as I gazed down at the man clambering up, with more than a little agility, from the damp rock of the meeting place. So ordinary looking, with such a rare, but not necessarily appreciated talent. Death Breaker, Death Speaker.

"May I be of service?"

I twitched my nose as J'age realized what the man that Aeris had so abruptly pulled through was and turned away with a fierce chuff of disbelief. If she had been a feline her fur would have been on end, tail lashing angrily and fangs bared. Though from the glimpse I caught, they were anyway, her fangs I mean- small, delicately feminine fangs, but fangs none the less.

I caught his pale blue grey eyes with my cinnamon gold ones and held silent for a long suitably portentious moment. The Murphy’s small, almost unnoticeable shuffle wasa the cue. “Yes Renny Nevakivi, You’ve been brought, called to do a unique service. One that can only be accomplished by you, with your rare talents and Gifts” There, suitably pompous and mysterious. I’ve had long training in managing to keep a straight face, but my nose twitched.

The one who had been at the regional conference, Sukri, as a bodyguard and aide to Numura, made a nicely acrobatic dismount from his flying mount.

"I take it we are all gathered here for the same reason then. The false Death?"

I have to chuckle – though without any real humor -at that as I quirk an eyebrow. Some have the need to state the obvious. “I can’t think of any other reason why else most of this particular group would be willingly anywhere near one another.”

I shot Matt a hard look. He didn’t need to be so provoking. The interplay between the Murphy and the demon was coming closer than I liked to actions instead of words but before I could intervene Arithon took matters in hand.

The smile that lifted my lips was long and slow and entirely genuine. What can I say, his presence pleased me. For although he didn't know it, and wouldn't until it was time, his presence absolutely assured the success of 'the mission'. Have to love mil-speak at times.

"perhaps you may all have a chance to deal with him in the future. Here I am Shalamar"

"Don't apologize for something you are not sorry for, it doesn't look good on you. And as far as dealing with him in the future, only to see to his destruction.” That was said without malice or anger. “You are needed” That ought to throw him for a bit. He had vanishingly little experience in being needed.

But all of them were, needed that is – each has a vital part to play.

The side of Renny's mouth twitched slightly upwards, the woman's words sated while amused his natural human ego. He slid the dagger back into the sheath on his back. There didn't seem a need for it at the moment. Mostly it was uncooperative risen dead that fell to the blade, it had been specially made centuries ago for that very purpose. Placing it within the right part of a corpse and the proper words and additives, it was possible to pin the risen to the ground, or standing if needed.

The hair on the back of Renny's neck rose, goosebumps worked their way up his back and arms. Pale emerald rings circled his pupils. Renny twisted, feeling the presence grow stronger with every degree. His eyes locked on the back of a woman. He felt his muscles tighten as he focused on her, she was from the other side, the palatableness of her force made Renny acutely aware he was within the presence of greatness.

He turned back to the woman called Shalamar as a man dressed in white called Arithon came next to her. Renny was curious as to what his purpose and what the purpose of this group was, he had been too distracted to pay much attention to the conversations.

"What is this mission?"

My stomach curdled as his energies washed over me Even with my back turned I could feel him looking at me, drooling. Demons don't phase me, my aunt doesn't phase me much less Elvin Empresss, near world wide destruction didn't make me turn a hair.

However the mere presence of a necromancer had me ...well...wanting to kill something. And that was an emotion I very seldom felt.

Oh I was a death dealer, in both individual and wholesale lots, but disrespect the dead? Mutilate and distress the dead? No, it was something I could not abide.

And I could feel his reaction to me. Oh damn! Was this what it was like having the class nerd have a crush on you in highschool? Something I had no experience with. I'd pretty much ghosted through highschool - three years of AP courses with my nose in advanced biology book, or balancerd lighty in the seat of a dressage saddle. It was a private, all girls boarding school to boot, the Foxcroft School in Virginia. Boys weren't on my class schedule, despite all the social events they held. But graduating class valedictorian had made sure I'd gotten into the university of my choice - Johns Hopkins University, School of Medicine. Then on to Georgetown University College of Law and seven years later I had my MD/PHD and JD in hand. I was going to go the Kay Scarpetta route, after a short stint as a straight physician, but Fate interviened.

And thanks to that I had a love that I'd never even imagined I'd have. I didn't need or want in any way the attentions of a necromancer.

I turned away from the demon, Arithon...less I gotta deal with him the better. I know I'll have to deal with'im...that's the point of the rag-tag group of barely tolerating powerhouses.

I turn back towards Shalamar just in time to get that look. The same look at got from Mrs Petry in the third grade...okay, so I got it in every grade. It's that disapproving, scolding glare. The one that says, "Mister Murphy, I thought better of you."

I spread my hands to her and exclaimed, "What?" I lefted my hands back up and pointed my cigarette at her. "Don't give me that, Lady." I swing the cigarette over accusingly at the empty space where the demon, Neh'gaz, had once been. "We got sent the mailboy. If he can't stand up to my weakest material, some tired ol''Your Mother' jokes, how could we expect him to go up against the Big Bad Embodiment of Expiration?"

I glanced over at the human, Renny. "Our mission, Kid," Kid, my face says I'm in my late twenties, but it's the last to find out. My eyes know better. They whisper how old, tired, and bored I really am as they focus on Renny out of the corner of my eye, "our mission is to take on and send packing another dimension's, reality's, or thread of existance's Death."

I looked around the group. "Some of y'all might know me. I'll bet most of y'all know me as the plucky and troublesome Air Force officer from Catawaba. But a couple of you...I'll bet you can breathe my real pay grade...'The Murphy.'"

I look back to the group. "Murphy's Law: If there's more than one possible outcome of a job or task, and one of those outcomes will result in disaster or an undesirable consequence, then somebody will do it that way. I'm that somebody. I'm Matt Murphy. Mister Murphy. Yes, that Mister Murphy...the one you don't hope comes around." I give Shalamar a glance out of the corner of my eye for an extra moment. She's been using my name in vain more often than the rest lately.

I give a moment for that to settle in. "Now...disaster is a subjective. One side's curse is another's boon. I only get credit for the set backs less than the sucesses. And to be able to do that...I've had many lives and faces. Death is the only one who knows me for me through all of them." I cut my eyes over to J'age. Well, not the only one. "More than lives and faces, I've dealt in and traveled through dimensions, had to. Death is always singular. It's 'this Death' and 'that Death' and I've seen a lot of Death. No two is necessarily the same."

I took a second to look at my cigarette and tap some ashes off the end before looking back up. I jerked my head towards the barrier wall. "You think you know what to expect over there? Bullshit you do. I don't." I pointed towards the barrier. "Nothin' says that the Decoy Death in there has to be the civil, quiet Death we've got. If he's got a mouth and half a brain for biting wit, how are you can stand up to him if y'all can't tolerate me? And trust me, I'm pullin' my snark."

"Don't apologize for something you are not sorry for, it doesn't look good on you."

Arithon flashed a perfectly charming smile that would have been appealing to those unaware of who he truly was. It seemed to Arithon that Nez'gah would never learn patience, despite thousands of years under Arithon's command. No matter though, he was only a tool, albeit a useful one.

"Of course."

"And as far as dealing with him in the future, only to see to his destruction. You are needed."

Shalamar was quite to the point, stating her desire to see Nez'gah destroyed as a plain fact. Smiling on the inside, Arithon wondered if Shalamar realised how true her words were. He had plans for Nez'gah and no doubt the rash demon would be meeting the Lady of Cats Keep again.

The statement of need was somewhat curious. Shalamar was a blunt woman but it appeared she wasn't ready to give out any specifics yet. Surely it wasn't a matter of raw power, she had enough of that to deal with most threats and so she must be relying upon certain talents that Arithon could bring to the table. He would have to ponder that, although he figured time would reveal the answer soon enough.

The appearance in the man in the white startled me a little bit. His essence clearly marks him as a demon lord, one of vast and near incomparable power. I don't like it that we have something like that along with us, he is the embodiment of everything my creators desired to remove from this world. Of course I give the cordial smile, but it would be all the better if I could only have a few minutes alone with him.

“I can’t think of any other reason why else most of this particular group would be willingly anywhere near one another.”

"Ah, quite true. I've only been in bands such as this in times of great trouble or peril. It's a sad thing that only the worst of conditions can unite the best of the world's peoples. Be known that in my last encounter in a band such a this, we were tracking down a rogue god. There were four of us, myself, a handmaiden of a goddess, a paladin, and a necromancer. Only the handmaiden and myself were left alive after the battles across the world, leaving many nations and landmasses completely destroyed in our wake. However, these blades I wear, which look like they would provide my enemy every advantage, are blessed by my creators with the ability to slay the divine. It is through these blades alone I was able to slay the god and restore the peace to the world.

They should provide us an advantage if for some ironic twist of fate that this abomination is of divine origin."

My emotions remain calm and placid, as a state my recollection calmly and without any hint of desire to be the one to strike the killing blow. I do not lust to be the one to deliver the hands of fate, but I will gladly take the opening if it presents itself.

Glad of the distraction offered by the newcomer's words, I realize that not everyone here knows one another. And my aunt far too often forgets such necessities.

"I am J'age. What we face is a rogue Avatar." My smile is taunt and wry. "And I think I am going to have to go into the long form explanation."

"An Avatar is the Personification of a Logos... the core meaning, concept, the idealization of a Principle. Death, Life, Time, War, and others. It means being what some concepts of philosophy call 'THE WORD' - the Divine Principle of those intrinsic, basic concepts. Ideas that are so utterly fundamental across the multiverse that they are keystones, the Foundations of all thought and philosophy. The Divine Word."

I hoped I was explaining it clearly. It almost was something that needed satori, the flash of enlightenment, to wholly grasp. My Father, when he had approached me to become his Heir, had taken me into Death, into himself, so that I could witness, though his experiences and those of those that had come before him, what it meant to be Death. It had shaken me profoundly, and held an immediacy even to this day, and ever would.

"And when you earn and accept the Mantle, then Yes. You are a god with, what in the end, the “power” that makes one a god. And that is very simply put...'What ever it takes’ The ability to have, do, be, whatever it takes to fulfill your position. It’s much more complicated that than obviously; but that is the best way I can put it within the limitations of mere mortal words, to those who are not Avatars themselves."

And I added, trying another way to make sure it got across - not that I felt they didn't understand, but more for myself, making sure I understood. You think that foolish? I didn't.

"I guess another way of putting it, is that the Avatars are the little gods, the active face and hands of the All That IS. Call it the Divine if you like – but however you perceive it - it splits a huge chunk of itself off and gives it to the one best suited to be the embodiment of that Logos."

Better than some explanations I had been party too, but as she said the state could never be truly understood by someone who was not an Avatar.

I let the group mull it over for a moment then say with matter of fact firmness "Then it's time you were about this. If any one feels that they can not, or should not, participate, then speak up now. Each of you has unique gifts, gifts that are needed to see to the success of this endeavor. And once within you all will not be able to return until it is complete." My voice went ominous "One way or the other. I will not, indeed can not, go with you. Nor can I just make a Portal to admit you. Getting in is, in and of itself, going to be a Leap of Faith"

I catch each of their eyes one by one and look deep, measuring them – even the ones I have sent to Hell before. The pair, J’age and Aeris had it both harder and yet easier then.

“The way in is going to be circuitous. It’s going to involve entering a Realm that only three of you, and Renny on sufferance alone, can traverse.”

“My Fathers Realm” J’age says flatly and I nod.

“Aeris, Arithon, Sukri. All of you are immortal, but you can be killed, you can die. And that is what you are going to have to do. Arithon, J’age will hold your…soul. Aeris, Matt will carry you. Renny will have Sukri ensconced within him for the passage. Your physical bodies I will embed in stasis, and then place that within J’age. When they are through Renny will bring your bodies back and create the conduit to allow the return of your souls while J’age and Matt keep any welcoming committee at bay.”

They wouldn’t be really dead, just temporarily biologically dead, but the technicality would get them where they needed to be as quickly and as safely as possible.

Like I had said earlier, they didn’t have to like it just do it. I wouldn’t harm any of them, though J’age might suffer some psychological nausea to carry Arithon within her. But there was always the chance it might to him some good – a vanishingly small chance, nanoscopic, but any was better than none. Matt and Aeris were soon to be in-laws and in-lawish snark would keep the two of them too busy to be peeved. And Sukri might be good for Renny, he was too complacent about his treatment of the dead, he might learn a little compassion for a short time with the Immortal.

Renny looked at the woman called J'age as she spoke of this Avatar thing. It was hard to process for him, he'd never been much into religion. However, he listened and kept it in his mind for later. The Necromancer was somewhat confused as to his purpose with this group, he wasn't a fighter, he could hold his own in a fist fight but bringing down some small God was a wholly different thing.

Even so, he continued his listening, if all else he might get some useful information out of this before he asked to be returned. It was J'age's simple statement of "My Father's Realm" that made him change his mind. He felt a lump in his throat, no wonder he felt such power radiating from her; she was Death's offspring. It was a weird way to think about Death, but none the less.

Renny looked around the group as Shalamar explained what he was to do. Resurrecting the dead, he had done that scores of times, though he would rarely bring back a soul to control what was once it's. Placing a soul back into a body was more complicated; it wasn't impossible for him, though it was difficult. He had experimented a few times with it, though as the bodies were dead, they always decayed. Placing a soul into an essentially a healthy, viable body would yield more interesting lessons.

"After I've replaced everyone in their respective bodies, how are we to find this Avatar?"

The thought of being in such a suspended state of reality did not sit well with me. It's far too close to being killed and forced back to the Astral realm. Granted I am able to return after a certain amount of time, but I fufill my purpose much better here than tending to my own wounds in the Astral realm. Then having my essance held by this necro, slightly disturbing considering his stance on those that still draw breath. I do not like this plan at all, yet one must do things that one disagrees with in order for the objective to be completed.

"After I've replaced everyone in their respective bodies, how are we to find this Avatar?"

"That will be easy my friend, either we follow the trail of who knows what sort of unholy abominations in there until we reach the Avatar. Or we could simply wait here, let Lady Shalamar bring down the barrier and have this evil dominion flow into us and the entire world.

If you don't wish to be apart of this group or have not the will to pursue further, too bad. Our objective is not the easiest one, but you are needed, as your gifts provide us an advantage much the same way my blades do. Each one of us holds certain advantages that will hopefully compliment each other and let us bring down this abomination. I'd rather take my chances in there with that foul host than let it be set loose upon the billions of innocents it would surely consume if let loose."

Arithon pondered Shalamar's words for a moment. This wasn't the first time he'd died, although it had been some time since his last 'death'. Of course, even then his essence simply returned to his world where he could focus the energies necessary to reform his body. No, death would not be an issue. Of course, the idea of being 'carried' by an unfamiliar was not exactly ideal but Arithon understood quite well that these things were never easy.

Maintaining his patience, Arithon simply waited until Shalamar was ready. He didn't care to take part in such conversations as he'd be able to sense this 'Death' quite easily once they entered the barrier and he imagined many of the others likely would as well. When something arrives on your home turf that causes this much trouble it doesn't tend to be subtle. The interesting part would be defeating this creature. Between the gathered group there appeared to be enough power to deal with almost anything but Arithon had the feeling it simply wouldn't be a matter of brute force but a little finesse. That didn't bother him in the slightest but he wasn't sure how the others would deal with it.

As far as Arithon was concerned, the human was the liability. He didn't quite understand why Shalamar vested such a huge responsibility upon him when he was the most likely to die out of everyone present on this mission.

"Well," Aeris commented as she glanced over at Matt. "It's not the worst way to enter another dimension, but it certainly is unusual." A half-smile was given to Matt. "Besides, it'll give us a chance to acquaint ourselves a little more."

Then, she turned back to the others, though she let her gaze linger on Arithon a moment longer. Yes, she was still harboring great dislike for him, but at the least now, he was being cooperative, and so long as that was maintained, she too would do the same.

It was an uneasy cease-fire of sorts, but she suspected there was never going to be any true peace between the two of them. She gave it no more thought however as she questioned.

"So...are we waiting for a certain time window? Want to catch this bad boy while he's brushing his teeth or taking his bath in the blood of innocents?"

"So...are we waiting for a certain time window? Want to catch this bad boy while he's brushing his teeth or taking his bath in the blood of innocents?"

I raised an eyebrow at Aeris in exasperation. We had been scare five minutes into this impromptu gathering, but I could understand her need to be about it.

I flicked a glance at J'age and she cut her eyes to the Tarlachian Empress. Then Aeris was being gathered in her embrace as her body collapsed, lifeless.

She spun towards Matt and her lips seemed to kiss his. Though they never touched. Aeris's soul passed into him between one heartbeat - her last and the next - his.

Then before any could blink and eye, I had Aeris's body held in stasis and she was reaching for Sukri. With a look of pure disgust on her face, which she wipe near instantly, she stepped close to Renny and sent him that ones soul. Leaving Sukri's body to my ministrations.

Then it was Arithon's turn and for just a moment J'age's eyes turned savage – she didn’t like demons any more than Aeris did, but in her case there was not a personal element to it - and I wondered for just a moment if her discipline would hold. She shot me a sideways look as if she knew my thoughts - and I was not sure if she did not. Her father’s powers were more hers that she consciously recognized.

Then there were three bodies encased in shimmering transparent fields. I compacted them, miniaturized them if you would and J’age was kneeling, the second skin of her body hugging armor peeled off her down to her hips. Drawing her wakizashi she sliced her abdomen, just under the arch of the diaphragm, only the faintest quiver marked the pain and blood flowed freely, though in but a few heart beats it had stopped.

Her nod to me was absent minded, she was totally concentrating on herself discipline. Quickly I telekinetically lifted the three now opaque, child’s fist sized capsules, and fitted them in her and began healing the massive wound. She was shivering, massive tremors that swept up and down her body. She swayed but never toppled over.

When I was finished, I was pale faced myself. I was spending a massive portion of myself empowering the Barrier, and there were other necessary expenditures that I dare not jeopardize. I looked at Matt and Renny. “She’s not going to be much help in defending you all until she gets her burden extracted once you all are within the barrier. So be careful and good hunting”

Renny twisted and closed his eyes after he felt the invisible presence of Sukri's soul enter his being. Sukri's entering felt like someone had thrown dust in his eyes. The man was twisting his body, like ones does their clothes are extremely uncomfortable. Distracted by trying to adjust to having someone else now residing inside him, Renny didn't see Shalamar place the miniaturized bodies into J'age.

The initial heavy discomfort down to slightly bearable Renny turned his attention back to J'age, who by now seemed to have grown around the waist. He also noted the bodies seemed to have disappeared. It was probably best not to ask what exactly happened.

Renny scooped up his duffel bag and looked at Matt and J'age. "Alright lets go."

As my "soul" had began to manifest itself inside the necromancer, I decided that this would be an excellent time to get a feel for the true abilities of our weakest link. Apart from the passage, it seemed to me that this Renny had little use to the group, apart from perhaps a few skeleton soldiers. As I proped into the spacial fabric that was Renny's memory core, the details of his life trickled through me. It all seemed a lifetime ago in the mind, perhaps something to do with how he precieved humanity. I was disgusted with his attitude towards life, or rather those that were longer of the flowing essance. I had met necromancers before, and although the meddled in death's work, they had always had a certain respect for it and caution. It seemed to me that Renny lacked both, perhaps even the ability for compassion, and even a sense of his own humanity. I found little in the ways of physical confrontation, and this dissapointed me, but I was not surprised.

"Alright, you obviously have some gift in the necro arts, but they can do us no good if you don't keep yourself alive. Seeing as I have little else to do in this shell, I will teach you the very basics of melee combat.

First rule, always take the high guard..."

Renny felt Sukri moving around in his body, it felt like a minor headache through his whole body. He didn't like the odd sensation of another being inside of him. He knew in his mind that the man was probably going through his mind like a book, looking back at his life in New Orleans, his travels and everything.

"First rule, settle down and stay out of my brain!" Renny snarled angrily, his fists clenched white around the strap of his duffel. The Necromancer wasn't going to tolerate the soul of some stranger moving about his person. The sooner he got Sukri out him, the better.

He looked over at J'age. "Lets get going, the quicker I get this thing out of me and them out of you two the easier it will be."

Despite being quite familiar with death, the process of having one's consciousness ripped out of a physical body is shocking to say the least, not something Arithon enjoyed when he wasn't controlling the process himself. Without the benefit of his physical senses, Arithon relied upon what many call the mind's eye or other such names, an ability to perceive the world without the use of the five mundane physical senses. Employing this ability, Arithon was able to maintain a watchful eye over everyone gathered around as he was promptly placed into J'age.

Being placed into another being like this was a new experience for Arithon. In the past he had possessed many shells but that had always been a simple clash of wills with the victor assuming full control over the body. In this case, Arithon was more like a guest that had been locked in. Whilst he was inside her and could use her senses and feel her physical sensations, J'age had ensured there were significant barriers between their minds, obviously not wanting to share anything with the likes of Arithon. Not bothering to test the barriers, Arithon erected his own as he had as little trust for J'age as she did for him.

Pain arced through J'age's body as Shalamar sliced her open with precision, carefully placing the 'sleeping bodies' inside Death's daughter. Despite the sharp sensation, Arithon ignored it as he examined the strengths and weaknesses of the form he resided in, noting anything that could be of use for him in the future. Until everyone was ready, he would simply wait, even if he was eager to be out of J'age.

Within Matt's body, Aeris could hardly be noticed there, for she had mentally set up enough defenses to make Fort Knox look like a cakewalk. She was silent as well, fully aware through the senses Matt's body offered, of what was going on. She however did note that Matt's hearing was so...impaired. Hers was much more sharp, much more clear.

Turning her thoughts now to J'age whom had put Aeris in limbo-death, she made a note to speak to her about this. A warning would've been nice, but it was too late now. At least Shalamar had seen to the care of my body as it hung lifeless in her arms. That's a weird thing. she thought to herself, To see one's own body just...lifeless.

One thing was for sure, she wouldn't do this rather strange ritual again if she could help it.

I staggered to my feet, pleased that I had not made the slightest whimper. If you think that is a small thing, you try doing it. Now they were within me shielded as strongly as possible. Though all will be able to peer forth from us, claim a miniscule amount of our senses to observe what happens.

I looked at the Murphy and the Necromancer, and smiled at their various reactions. Then I summoned the Pale Horse into existence, in a form that would convey the three of us to that portion of this Reality that is wholly my Father's domain. I know how I perceived the Pale Horse, I wasn't certain how they did - like my Father, Death, it is an individual thing, each psychopomp, each envisioning, is unique.

But the transition between the Land of the Living and the vast many pillared and veiled Halls of the Dead - for me at least - is an instantaneous happening, swift and smooth and as natural as breathing. Something I no longer do, but the simile is the most apt about.

The souls swirl around us, rising past we intruders into infinity, a delicate stream of chill air. Ghostly presences sliding in quick shivers across our bodies, tangling lightly in our hair and clothes - their voices an indecipherable singing in the mists. I see my Father standing across the great chasm, deeply involved in his unexpected and unprepared for duties - The Fall of Imitora was unnatural, and nigh overwhelming to even he - but aware of our presences. I bow deeply to him, and his love reaches out to me, envelopes me with a strong sure warmth that -though he is distracted by the burden he is enmeshed in – is for me alone.

Some day I will cross that narrow and treacherous bridge and take his place – only on that Day it will be a broad ribbon of light beckoning me ever onward. I will mourn that day for all eternity, for it will mean the loss of the only ones I truly love. But that will no deter me from what will be.

The veils billow in the ethereal zephyr, sometimes allowing a few moments glimpse of a soul's memories; joy, sorrow, anger, fear, satisfaction, worry, peace …fractals of their lives now passed as they reunite with the Dance of All That Is, into the unknowable future.

The pillars rise from the foundations of the eternity and pass from sight far above us and for a moment I am reminded of

"To lose the earth you know, for greater knowing; to lose the life you have for greater life; to leave the friends you loved, for greater loving; to find a land more kind than home, more large than earth -- '-- Whereon the pillars of the earth are founded, toward which the conscience of the world is tending -- a wind is rising, and the rivers flow.'

I can not but acknowledge the truth of Thomas Wolfe, one of my favorite authors.

“Come” I whisper to my companions. For this will be an easy voyage- the realm of the dead holds no horrors for me, no terrors, it is familiar ground, holy ground. The Dead hold no deep animosity towards me, though some still struggling to accept my Fathers offer, will resent any intrusion, and can make their presence most notable.

Renny looked around in awe as the spirits swirled past him. Goosebumps tingled his body, he was here, the realm of the Dead. The Necromancer felt butterflies in his chest, he was probably the first of his kind to see this world first hand, in person. A wide smile was plastered on his face as he followed J'age, his eyes soaking in everything that they could take.

Turning back to J'age, he regretfully kept one eye on her, watching her every move so not to tread off the path while he kept another eye scanning the wondrous surroundings.

Damn, I missed a great chance there, but I’m glad to miss it too. Perhaps a month ago, I’d have taken hold of lil’Miss Death and planted one on her. I’d have faced some stiff retribution, but it’d been worth it. It’s a real anti-social thing to do, but that was who I used to be. I ain’t him anymore. No, sweet Victoria is mine, and I ain’t gonna screw that up for gettin’ the chance to amuse myself.

But after that ‘seppuku’ performance…damn, maybe I shoulda kissed her. She needs to lighten up. I’ve been through that culture. I’ve spent three times as a ronin, and I never saw the attraction in openin’ up my guts to show how pure I am. I mean, look, if I can show my enemies them the guts of a hundred or so of their friends, doesn’t that accomplish the same goals? If I’m gonna go down, I’m going to do it on a pyre made up of a hillock of them that tried to get me.

I’d about shook off my queasiness when Shalamar brought up that J’age would be useless in a fight until she cut the others back out. A repeat performance of Daughter Death’s hari kari didn’t help my appetite any, but more than that I was disconcerted by our prospects on the other side. The Necro didn’t look to be much in a fight. That anathe was probably real mean on the Jack Skellington’s he was used to, but it was probably fat diddly against the ugly creatures they were going to meet. I hope he’s a pretty good Pied Piper o’Horror.

With J’age and the Kid pretty useless it all falls to me to keep us covered. Ain’t that keen? But just about what I expected, this looks like a bit more than lil’ole me standin’ here in my thread bare glory’s gonna be able to handle. Looks like it’s time to exercise a bit of my skill and gear up. Now, have ya ever wondered how your favorite hero of daring do, such as yours heroically, always seems to pull out just what is needed at the right moment?

Plotholes, mate, plotholes.

Most often forgetfulness on the Auctor above’s part, but just not caring to a farethewell for the small details of describing the content of my pockets and where all my personal belongings are. As long as it’s somewhat plausible, or if it’s not but played to comedic effect, most people will smile and nod along. A good jacket can hide a lot, but sometimes it’s not enough. Dusters are great…but nowadays yer most likely a serial killer or a goth if ya wear one. Anyways, somebody else already cornered the local market on dusters, so I’m fat out of luck unless I want this to start looking like The Matrix Goes to Hell…wait it already did…huh…anyways. When your voluminous clothing just ain’t voluminous, you have to fall back to stand bys, bags, belts, and the rocks that hide them.

I grimly licked my fingers and crushed end of my cigarette and stuffed it behind an ear and put it out of mind. I pushed off my rock and leaned back around it and first grabbed a wide black belt. It had a basket hilted sword and a broad dagger sheathed on it. I wrapped it around my waist and cinched it down tight. I reached around again and brought out a very large messenger bag. I threw strap over my head and arranged it across my body.

I looked up at J’age as arranged herself from her pseudo-suicidal repose. She stood up and summoned her mount the Pale Horse. I know it’s pretty subjective just like Death Himself, but I’m traditionalist enough that I saw three Pale Horses before me. She could have summoned a Pale UH-1 Huey, and I’d have still seen Horses. Pale Huey…hmm…be a pretty gunship, like Death itself. There I said it, pun out of the way.

Whew, I feel better now.

I nodded to J’age, “Ready to step when you are.”

I rubbed the leather of the messenger bag lovingly. I felt safer with it, like Victoria was here with me. That's all I really thought about all throughout the afterlife. I mean, it's just the Realm of the Dead. Nothin' that special about it. I'd been here more time than Icared to, or could probably, count. I nodded to a few spirits I remembered, grinned to a few that I sent here working for Death.

It's not my Realm, per se, but I've sorta gotta a work visa.

Mp3 to mood by (http://www.imeem.com/omgwtfbbqqqq/music/z9i6MMNs/dio_hide_in_the_rainbow/)

A Spectre of Death (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aGyFghdU9nM) and yes I know a different sort of gunship, but more appropriately named.

In my mind's eye I watch them shift through the Realities, and pass through Deaths ineffable Realm - and I follow the rainbow arcs of temporal and reality distortion that mark their travel with ease - my mind is a potent entity and little exists that can bar my observation. I could have opened for them a safe, sane, and easy to step through door in the Barrier, but that is not my function, at this time.

There is a reason behind their traveling so beyond which has been spoken of. Crucible and Sacrifice. The best steel indeed goes through the fire, and shudders beneath the hammers relentless blows. And the greatest Workings, call them miracles if you like, are those powered by sacrifice, and the greatest sacrifice is the willing one

With none about to disconcert, I do not bother to conceal the constant, fluid morphing through my many forms, human and non. J'age's vision of me as the 'cat that walked alone, waving her tail behind her wild self, and all places and all times were alike unto her' is far closer to the truth than she realizes. I've spent longer in Chaos than the human structure can accommodate, and I hold that form when about others merely for their comfort.

Their passage through Death will be uneventful, but their arrival on the other side. It will not be initially contested, but that which would see them destroyed utterly will know within heartbeats of their arrival. By the beating of their hearts something wicked their way comes.

Ol'Man Death looks pretty good. The one thing I envision about him that's counter to tradition is that his big black robe isn't tattered. What self-respecting Avatar of the most inevitable force next to Taxes would go around like a beggar? I sure don't.

My fingers drum on the hilts of my claymore and my dirk as we walk. No, it's not one of those nasty great swords. That's a claidheamh da laimh. Damned English put their stamp on everything and fekked up the Gaelic. I carried this claymore and the dirk that goes with it back when I was a fired-up Jacobite. Ended up having to gather it from my own grave...and frighten a poor friar to get it back. Hadn't needed it in a while, but I figured the old relic would serve well. Maybe shouting "Saint Andrew" around it enough will make it more keenly suited to the business at hand.

Mostly, I can't remember where I left the other swords I've had. I rarely die neatly.

I have often heard that Death appears differently to everyone. This became obviously true when I tapped into the electrical signals firing from Renny's eyes to his brain. The image began to take shape, and much to my chagrin, how he saw Death was different from my own perception of the being. I then used his own eyes for my own and took a glance at Death. (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v637/chellote/death.jpg) He was there, dressed as he always has been, the masked warrior waiting to gather the departed souls. Too often have I seen that warrior's garb, too often have I seen him guiding the fallen to the next phase. I bear him no malice, for he is merely serving his purpose in this design, as I serve mine in protecting those individuals. Perhaps one day I will have to watch him beckon for Vakaras. It will not be a sad day, as it will mean we have successfully accomplished what we have set out to do, and at that day I will give him that knowing nod and be content in each of our places in this world.

Arithon had no preconceptions of what Death and such associated legends were supposed to look like. Instead of perceiving a cloaked figure or a pale horse, Arithon simply saw entities of pure energy, those that could take on any number of shapes but were not bound by any of them. Despite being aware of what many others believed such things should look like, Arithon kept such images out of his mind, they were irrelevant.

Not being particularly interested in the swirling forces around him, Arithon continued his patient idleness within J'age and pondered how he could use these events to his advantage. Whilst he had appeared at Shalamar's request, Arithon was a firm believer that nothing was ever done for free, even if the cost wasn't quite apparent at the time.

Keeping that in mind, Arithon was also interested to see what this 'Death' character could bring to the table. There certainly wouldn't be any complaints from him if Aeris was to somehow lose her life or otherwise be incapacitated.

The internal waiting room that Aeris resided in was startling comfortable. It should be on both counts. She was surrounded by an exact replica of her palace in Tarlachia. Well, it was quite close. If she looked carefully, she might notice that while it was a very, very good facsimile, it was also a dated one. Things that had been added in the past few centuries were missing from this representation. Still many favorite, comfortable, and traditional things from fragrances to furniture to treats and drinks were present.

An orb floated in the middle of the room, touching it would allow Aeris to experience the world through Matt's senses. As heavy as her mental defenses were, his were just as tight. The orb gave no access further on. It was like full sensory television. At the end of the room, incongruous with Aeris's palace, was a door, an especially armored cockpit door from a large airplane. It was marked 'Crew Only' and was seemingly as impenetrable as it was imposing.

It was the twelve-ton metaphor in the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Are you quite done with the internal, internal monologue there, Narrie? For Pete's sake, I've got the wordiest narrator.

Back to the important part of the story, Lil'Miss Death, Lil'Mister UnDeath, and I were walking through the land of Death with Death watching us from a ways off and heading towards a confrontation with Death. Boy, did our futures look bright.

I glanced over at the kid again and to that athame he was toting. I looked back up at him. "Hey, Remmy, what's the nastiest thing you've taken with that pigsticker?"

Renny looked over at the man, he had obviously gotten his name wrong to annoy him. The Necromancer gently slid the dagger from its holster. The hilt was made of smooth, highly polished black onyx, bands of white and blue embedded in the rock, the top of the hilt had a small red stone fused with the onyx. The blade itself was was several inches long and had serrations down either side. The metal looked to be almost tinted blue and to the discerning eye, there were figures and symbols embedded in the metal.

"Some dead decompose into goo. Flesh literally drips off the bone, it's a very interesting sight to see as a corpse stumbles towards you and the flesh covering the stomach slides off and then the guts tumble out. One lardy fellow I raised, that was even more interesting, it was a bit harder to get him to be still. But I got him to. You see..." Renny smiled at Matt as he twisted the dagger with honed precision in his hands "...the key is to strike them dead center of the chest, you must be sure to break bone."

Renny plunged the dagger at himself, the blade stopping as it rested on his shirt. "If you don't, they keep walking, they don't become still."

Renny dropped his smile and slid the dagger back into the sheath. "Anything else?"

Damn, I liked the new age virus undead. Hoodoo zeds are a pain in the ass to deal with. These virus zekes are nice and simple. Head shot, brain damage, and V-oh-la. Hoodoo Zack is a stubborn dude. Strikes to the heart, faux Latin words, unicorn tears...sure you can beat'em down, but that just slows or rests'em for a while.

Whatever our prospects might be, he seemed to know how to use the little thing. I nodded. "Oui, mon frere, what other than the dead, have ya taken? Could ya say...take a giant demonic spider with a thorax bigger than a VW bus?"

Glancing at the orb and immediately recognizing its purpose for her, Aeris just gave a slight smirk. Yes, she could tell that Matt was defending his mind like airplane pilots protected their cockpits from terrorists. She didn't see it necessary to breach that hull of a door hatch, but she did retrieve a cell phone from a pocket and held it up, keyed a few buttons in it, then took the dispensable camera and audio relay probe and gently pushed it into the orb.

Turning the phone back over to the displayed screen, she was pleased to see her theory working and everything in the orb's conduit of senses being transferred.

"At least I'm not gonna look like I've got my fingers in the pie or something." she muttered as she approached the doorway of incongruous weight and studied it. Her fingers ran across its surface, and naturally found it solid.

So...she did the only thing she could think of.

She knocked.

Renny shrugged and opened his jacket, revealing the leather belt he wore. He gently touched some of the pouches, some offered fairly solid objects while others were more fluid or powdery in nature. He looked at Matthew.

"I may have something here that may irritate or do something for one of these creatures you speak of. Maybe after it is dead, I can make it our own giant demonic spider with a thorax bigger than a VW bus."

I smirked. "Nice, pard, nice." I turned away, looking ahead further on down the plain of Death. "So can ya just control the dead you raise or all dead not control by a 'mancer with more gumption than ya?" So he had more than one uses good, left unsaid by him but definitely noted by me was that he didn't own up for killing the gornax I'd been talking about. Damnible ugly things, gornaxes. It was one of those things that gave me the rakish scar across my face. Also gave me an eternal hatred of spiders.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Aeris knocked, the door knocked back. "Who EEEEES it?" asked a falsetto voice from the other side.

There was a feeling of an invisible film across the trio's faces, a vaguely elastic barrier that seemed to stretch for a moment, impeding their movement, then dissolving into nothingness.

The first impression is one of scent, as they breathed out the breath they had taken back in Reality and drew in a new one. There wasn't any unusual urgency to that first breath, it was as unhurried and natural as if they had passed between the Realms between one breath in the next. Which is exactly, despite their perceptions of time passing, what they had done.

The scent was indescribable. The by products of gasoline burning engines, burning inorganics, steel and ceramics, mingled with the roasting scents of meat, lumber, timber, earth itself taken to the ignition point.

They stepped out on to a freshly cracked and cratered roadway, it's once smooth surface now all but impassible even by those afoot. Clouds of dust and smoke, filthy, particulate masses hung heavy in low, dark, pendulous boils. If they could have seen past that, they would have witnessed the sky’s burning, waters a fountain with boiling blood, and witnessed the dead piled in heaps that reached the waist. The very bedrock of the earth shimmying as if barely congealed jello that made the stones dance and the bits of concrete and rebar imbedded with in sing in an eerie discordance

One couldn't see any significant distance however, and the fainter sounds were overridden by the vast discordant groan of the tormented land.

Though they all knew, without exactly knowing how they knew, that this was Imitora, Imitora that was however, exactly as it was at the moment. Friday October 31 going in to Saturday November 1, the strike of midnight, the first heartbeats of All Souls Day, the mark of elder paganism washed away into a Christian holyday, from the sacred to the sacred…but which had nothing to do with the profanation which occurred.

It came not from the sky but the ground. A humanoid figure, standing a solid eight foot six, covered from head to toe in a dark black cloak. There were no hands from the end of the sleeves, instead five long tendrils in place of fingers. Upon close examination, one would see the tendrils were actually a variety of snakes, each one acting as a different finger.

A hard wind, an unnatural wind, blew the cloak open, revealing no flesh, but exposed bone, with chunks of muscle hanging from the bone. A spine connected somewhere to the upper skull, but it had no lower jaw. Flesh, dark, cold, and grey, covered the skull, but no eyes were visible. Instead, a cold, dark green flame, tipped purple flickered from each socket. The cloak rolled back around the figure.

Behind it came a equine figure, equally looking of nothing more than bone and exposed muscle. What little flesh covered it was a dark, dirty green, and each time it snorted, flames flared out from its nostrils.

The rider climbed the mount, surveying the hell on earth that at one time had been the High Republic of Imitora. No more. The horse reared up, and as it came back down, more small shock waves flared from its hooves.

The Pale Horse swung it’s head about and whistled challenge, etheric flames spurting from it’s flaring nostrils.

I looked in that direction as I shifted minutely to ride out the shockwave, blinking my eyes against the grime laden gale what whipped briefly about the small group. “Well, now we know in which direction to head. But first…”

Looking about more I could see no more defensible a place than were we were. For though cracked and chasmed, the wide roadway was slightly elevated, and where we stood was also dry of the viscuous, slick pools of blood that dotted most of what we could see of the blasted landscape.

From various places within my duster I laid a small pile of weapons at the Murphy’s feet, mostly ones which appeared to be large caliber handguns, but to those with the eyes to see, they were laced about with unnatural energies and filled to capacity with various forms of destruction. “Here you might need these”

The return of Arithon, Aeris and Sukri would not take that long, all things considered, but the aliens roaming Imitora wouldn’t take long to find us either.

I looked over at Renny, and advised "Arithon first, then Sukri and Aeris last." I shrugged off my duster and went to my knees, slipping the armor once again from my shoulders. This time it would be but three small cuts, noting to upset the apparently easily stomach turned Murphy. This was actually harder, but I didn't feel of advising him of that. He didn't need to know.

The falsetto voice was irritatingly annoying, and Aeris shook her head in disgust. It reminded her of a child's game. Tilting her head slightly to the side to release the tension in her neck, she crossed her arms. Deciding to see what would happen, she called back through the thick doorway, "Simon Says!"

Who knew? Perhaps this game would be useful to achieve the results she wanted...

OOC: Sorry it's short. Not much else to do at the moment...

Renny gasped as he looked around the twisted and rotted landscape around him. It looked like some nuclear wasteland, but this was different. He shut his eyes, trying to listen for any tell tale voice of the dead. He opened his eyes, for now, he could hear nothing.

He nodded simply to J'age and stripped off his jacket, laying it and his duffel bag on the cracked earth. Renny rolled up his sleeves, this time things would be different. He had transfered souls from a body to a body, though in those cases the body of course only had one soul, not two. It shouldn't be hard getting the right soul, however it would be painful for both in the removal.

Renny looked over at Murphy and J'age, though he was addressing those contained in their bodies as well. "Everyone listen, what I will do will probably hurt, though it shouldn't be anything with long term damage. Just don't get worked up."

He looked at J'age. "Lay out the bodies and I'll get to work."

Guard duty. Thank the Auctors for it. Ain't often I feel like this, but when it comes I'm glad for it. See while I guard the others, I don't have to look, which is all fine and dandy and the reason I've hardly been a doc in any of my lives. I blame it on a chronically weak stomach for unncessary surgeries and mutiliations.

"Oh, presents. You shouldn't have. You know just what to get a guy." I deadpanned out as I picked up the guns, examining them. I stuff them into my belt, into pockets, into the back of my pants, into the same pockets I'd already placed things in, back behind yet another time. You don't leave'em laying around. You learn that quick. Always pickup guns. You are never badass enough not to have enough guns.

Like fuel, the only time too much ammunition is when yer on fire.

I kept two out. Probably Lil'Miss Death's favorites, they were Desert Eagles...well, Daemon Eagles perhaps. Holdin' her DEs...I could feel them thrumming in my hand...not like they had a Magic Fingers installed in the grips...but in my pressure points, in my nerves. A touch of the arcane or divine was ensconsed in their mags. I really didn't know whether to measure the muzzle in calibers or Hail Marys.

They'd do nicely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile in my head, some people have no sense of humor or gratitude. I mean, you restyle an oasis nearest to their childhood home and what do you get? Not even an "Open Sesame."

I stepped out from column behind Aeris. "You don't want to go in there. It horribly complicated, and the llama's don't like be disturbed."

"Lay out the bodies and I'll get to work."

There was a reason Renny could not feel the dead here. Instead of being released to move on the intruder death, the false death was destroying them, consuming them. And my soul shuddered at that thought. Abomination!

I nodded without replying as I swept the barren, blasted landscape one again while the Murphy gathered up the various weapons with what I was fast coming to realize was his constant bravado.

Oh, presents. You shouldn't have. You know just what to get a guy."

He made me half chuckle, and I was thankful for that small kindness. Yes I could see why my Father liked him.

I went to my knees and used my tanto to make the first incision, going pale and biting my lips till blood flowed - not even enough time to settle into painblocking meditation. I could feel trouble arriving.

But my hands trembled only a little as I eased Arithon’s shell out from just beneath my diaphragm. However the sudden tremors that racked me weren't mine. The ground was trembling, and a short distance away, perhaps fifty feet, a zigzagging crack began to form.

I laid the fist sized crystal upon the blanket Renny had spread out. It was ebon and glowed with inner flames of deepest scarlet.

More temblors wracked the earth and the crack grew into a chasm with foul scented super heated air blasting up from it’s depths and a hellish glow sprang from within.

I concentrated on my part in all of this and made the second incision, drawing out the deep azure crystal, alight with golden hues. Sukri’s cloister was laid before Renny.

I had to blink hard, multi hued spots were swimming before my eyes, and my throat was so very painfully dry. The fetid air blanketed us, making it harder than even before to breathe.

I braced one hand against my knee for a second and fought lose concentration as I began to make the third cut. But what heaved itself out (http://www.atddm.com/first.jpg) of the now vast fissure brought haste to my actions.

Home.

This burnt hell is like home. Not Catawaba, that's my current residence, but sadly it's not home. Actually...home was slightly better. Being that I'd been born thirty years after the fall of Man, most everything had already been burned up, rotted away or consumed. Home had smelled slightly better.

Dad had lived those thirty years...his entire adulthood in a post-hell, and he still soldiered on, kept us together...helped make me.

I'm not like Dad. I don't have his strength. Not to say I don't have any, just not his. And looking over the nearest thing to home I've seen in lifetimes...that old wish comes back as it always does every lifetime, every year or so...Papa, can you help me not be frightened?

But before he can ever answer...something always turns my attention (http://www.atddm.com/first.jpg). I'm a big boy, have had to be for a long, damn time. Hide it behind bravado and a devil-may-care smile and I can go on; I strike a visage a lot more frightening than a young man, hanging, bound in a cave.

Cats arch their backs and friz their fur. I cock back the hammers of Daemon Eagles. "Don't hurry. Y'all play Operation. I'll see if I can't ask the nice gila monster to move on." I threw back over my shoulder before turning to the gila monster. I leveled the two 50 Hail Marys at the thing's beady eyes, not a difficult task seein' as they're bigger than me.

"Good...evenin'." It was dark. "Can I call you, Pete? Well, Pete, we just passin' through. I know yer probably hungry..." Pete might not be paying attention to Kleiber's Law, bein' magical and all, but it's a safe bet that with a body mass that big it's metabolism's got to be exponentially larger than mine....what? So I spent a lifetime reanimating dinosaurs through genetic engineering. It was a mistake, but I took my technobabble seriously. Anywho, "...but Pete, buddy, things ain't gonna work out. I mean, the gal...she'd be like eating road kill. The kid? Stringy, I'll guarantee you. And me? I only go well with port, and well, yer only gonna get wine coolers here. It is hell after all."

"Oh!" Aeris replied in mock amusement, "A petting zoo!" She glanced at the door again, "I could just blow it open, get myself out of this clearly pseudo castle you've impersonated, but hey, I thought I'd be nice and knock."

She shrugged then approached him a few steps, leaning in, "You got the drapes wrong by the way." Leaning back, she smiled, "Wrong season." A wave of the hand dismissed the issue, "Minor inconsistency, but I will admit, not bad. Anyway, when everyone's done with playing SIMS, I'd really like to be out of this and back in complete control again."

Prior the a previous engagement with Pete...

I raised an eyebrow to the she elf. "You can hold yer horses, 'Yer Highness.' The crew door ain't the way out, just the way to the active part of my mind. Yer just gonna have to wait until Lil'Miss Death and the Necro get things fixed up. Until then, I'd lay off tryin' to blow my mind." I shook my head. "You've let yer real world power go to your head. In mine, that means for jack, 'yer worshipfulness.' I have enough sway for the real world...care to imagine what my reality warping is like in my own imagination?"

I waved a hand around the room. "You'll just have to make do with yer surroundings for a little longer. I'm sorry things are off, but this was the way I remembered them. Been lifetime or twelve since I was last there."

Renny looked at the strange crystal in a strange awe, it was doubtful he would forget such an event. He waited for J'age to finish her cutting so he could get Arithon out of her and back into his body, but the trembling took his thoughts.

The man stumbled slightly as the ground rattled beneath his feet, but he kept his balance. Renny's eyes flicked up to the crack in the ground that began to form, the putrid air that rose from it reached them in seconds. He gagged, nearly vomiting, even spending years around rotted and diseased flesh this new smell was something that was so alien from anything else.

"Oh shit..." He whispered as he saw the head of the lizard rising from the the chasm. Renny turned back to J'age, sweat beading on his face as he waited for her to finish. The Necromancer removed a small rock from a pouch in his belt, he rubbed it over his hands, a thin blueish residue was left on his fingers.

Renny took a breath, he'd have to work fast, far faster than he usually wanted to.

The dragon -it looked like a dragon but seemed to also shift and shimmer - as if wavering between forms - didn't seem to pay any attention to Matt’s vigorous denial of suitability of edible content. The massive head with it's wicked fangs - the razor sharp teeth dripped a greenish, glowing saliva that seemed to be corrosive. At least the rocky, nearly barren ground bubbled and hissed as large drops splattered across it.

With blinding speed that vast head darted its gaping jaws at the Murphy, seeking to snatch him up like a Great White going for a baby seal.

J'age

I was too busy to watch, as I quickly made the third cut, gasping at the pain and tossing the tanto down. With quick but trembling fingers, fingers already slick with my blood, I began to pull forth Aeris's crystalline coffer. I nearly dropped it, fumbled with it for a moment before being able to lay it gently before the Necromancer.

That was the last and now all three lay before Renny. And it was now, solely, up to him.

With a relieved exhalation I directed my thoughts to healing myself. Which was far harder said than done, given my weariness. I could only hope that Aeris would be reensconced in herself quickly enough to help restore me.

Renny looked down at the crystal casing containing Arithon, he hoped that the casing would break and the body would restore to full size once he was done. He preferred the personal touch of grasping the skull, but he could still get the soul back inside, it would be harder, but it was possible.

Renny placed his left hand on the crystal, close to the head as possible. He laid his right hand on J'age's head, digging his fingers into her skull, it would feel like a horrific headache to the woman. The Necromancer could feel the emptiness in the body residing in the crystal, he focused part of his mind on it, concentrating on the void. His other concentration was on the other being he felt inside of J'age.

Renny gritted his teeth, the words he spoke were indecipherable. Moving Arithon wasn't as simple as having the soul move through Renny to his own body. Without anything to attract the soul in the body, Arithon was in effect stretched and pulled through a channel through Renny's body.

The Necromancer grunted as his fingers on J'age's head burned, his groan grew in volume as he felt the spirit move through him. But this was unlike anything he had felt before, no, this wasn't normal...Arithon was no normal being, this was....Renny's moan turned into a long, hollow howling, his eyes breaking open, revealing a pair of white eyes with pale jade irises.

As Arithon was pushed down Renny's other arm, the void that had existed was being filled, now with a spirit there, the rest of Arithon began to move faster through the Necromancer towards the rest of his being.

Suddenly, Renny ripped his hand from J'age's head, slight bruising was visible were his fingers were placed. At the same time, he ripped his fingers from the crystal. Renny fell forward, gasping for air, his body burned, it felt scorched from the inside out. He twisted his head, his eyes locking onto the crystal, he could see movement inside, Arithon was in his body.

Renny brought himself, slowly to the kneeling position. He looked at himself, his hands and arms were an almost continuous splotch of second degree burns. He could feel the welts on his chest and back... Whatever the hell...yes....Arithon came from hell.

Renny looked at J'age. "Let me...I'll get Sukri now..."

Jump inside the dragon's maw, Matt. Yeah that's what that crazy voice in the back of my mind is whispering. I figure it'd work...maybe...but it's kinda soon to be going to that level of desperation. I mean, it's only an unstably formed dragon in a netherworld and the first one we've met. I figure I should leave any gullet galavanting to the fifth dragon at least.

I took the time to snap off a pair of magic missiles from each gun and then dove to the right. It was close, I know, that's how I wanted it. The scabbard from my claymore and my jacket trailing behind me as I throw myself out of the way. The sheer rush of air from the dragon's scaley muzzle flashing by me should give me an extra push like when a semi goes by your car on the highway. Just have remember to tuck and roll....then it's right back up into a crouch with a cocksure grin and some goading quip to keep the dragon on me.

Oh yes, I do this far too often that I have this time to do checklists as I hurtle to a controlled fall.

There was nothing pleasant about being torn from one body, passed through another and eventually being delivered back into your own. Whilst it was a turbulent and generally unpleasant ride, Arithon wouldn't call it painful. It wasn't really possible for him to feel pain in this situation as he was the incorporeal consciousness. Nevertheless, he was aware of the discomfort he caused upon his departure and throughout his brief journey, especially the pain his presence bestowed upon the necromancer. Arithon was fully aware that if he had attempted to do so he could have made the exchange a little more pleasant but he wasn't one to help out another unless he had a good reason and these circumstances did not provide him with such a reason.

Finally Arithon returned to the body he called his own, even if it was temporarily smaller. It felt right to be back in his own vessel, even if it was only a shell that Arithon constantly manipulated into any shape he required. Gaining his bearings, Arithon stretched outwards and the crystal encasing his form shattered, allowing his body to rapidly continue stretching until he reached his former stature. Levitating himself onto his feet, Arithon took a moment to brush off his white robe before taking another moment to observe his environment.

Taking a deep breath, Arithon marvelled at the job this foreign force had done on Imitora. It was a completely desolate wasteland that reeked of death. The air was literally thick with acrid decomposed odours and there was no mistaking that a lot of people had died here. As his gaze continued to survey the wasteland, Arithon came across the sight of Matt dancing around with a large dragon-like creature. Neither combatant seemed to have the upper hand but Matt was easily edible whereas the dragon was not.

Shaking his head, Arithon stepped towards the fight, flicking his wrist ever so slightly. The resulting force expelled by the demon lord slammed into the beast and knocked it clean out of the sky, a substantial thud signalling that the ground was not happy with dragons being dropped on it. Arithon had no idea whether he had done any real damage to the beast but it was a start, eventually they would discover what made this creature die and promptly apply the lesson.

The removal of Arithon was not in the least bit pleaasant, in callus fact it was brutal and painful in a wayI'd never expreienced pain before. Well, live and learn as they say, though I am not quite sure if the nebulous they would count me live or dead. Learning simply was however, and didn't care for what state you found yourself in.

"Let me...I'll get Sukri now..."

I nodded past the headache that made a full blown migrain look like one a dose of children's asprin could handle. Where's candlight, fine wine, a hot tub and your lover when you need them? Right - safely back home where you'll never see them again. I had never cried for myself and never would. Not allowed.

The not so dull boom and resultant jounce of the ground as the whatever it was jounced me around and I had to grit my teeth against a yelp of pain. My self healing wasn't that quick.

Damn all Demons. And Fekk their Lords. Pansy-ass autocratic awesome stealers, their imps and lesser demons need to find a damned backbone and join the rest of the world in ditchin' feudalism and the fifteenth century and enact a few governmental reforms and install a parliament or something. Maybe that'd keep their bedamned lairdy-boys from gettin' the way of MY DRAGONSLAYIN'!

George stole that last one and my sainthood....I could have been the patron saint of England and have my name roared out by hordes of fanatical Brits...ass.

Anyways, I came up expecting to say something about the draggled dragon's eyesight to be shaken back onto my butt from my crouch by the thing being thrown by Arithon. Ass. I was about to protest fiercely to the demon lord when I noticed the entire dragon flicker.

It flickered. Really, like it was a bad television picture...or a crappy ILM hologram. Frowning, I lefted one of the Daemon Eagles and snapped off a couple of shots to see what it would do to the reptile's reception.


[OOC: Many apologies to both Georges. I treat religion as a joking affair with good humored people in command.]

The second missiles had, like the first set, damaged the construct somewhat - the destructive energies imbuded within them reaching across a number of Realms, but not lethal, yet.

Being slammed into the ground by Arithon- while it had done some actual damage the impact was more stunning than destructive - had turned the constructs attention to the Demon Lord. Black fire, roiling flames that burned colder than the depths of space, and were the antithesis of a demons bale fire spat forth, enveloping the white robed figure.

As it did so a wing tipped with ichor dripping claws that would put a raptor to shame lashed out at the one that had hurled the painful energies at it.

Arithon could tell by Matt's expression that he wasn't grateful for the assistance but Arithon could hardly care. More was needed than a few enchanted bullets to kill this creature and that was where Arithon came in. Despite such, Matt continued to fire away at the creature that was now focusing its attention on the demon lord that had so rudely knocked it to the ground.

Somewhat intrigued by the flickering nature of this creature himself, Arithon waited to see if the latest volley of bullets would have an effect. That hesitation gave the construct a moment to lash out with a wave of black flame, spreading an eerie chill around Arithon. Stepping backwards to get out of physical reach from the construct, Arithon quickly erected a shield around himself, barely holding the flames at bay. He was perfectly capable of holding them off for quite some duration but he wanted the creature to think if it could apply a little more flame that it could triumph in this contest. Whilst the dragon creature was focusing on such, Arithon broadcast a mental message to Matt.

"I wouldn't want to deprive you of shooting things... see if you can hit this thing in the brain or somewhere vital whilst it's focusing on me."

Jumping back once again to avoid a further swipe of the clearly sharp talons, Arithon feigned his shield weakening a little more, even allowing a few sparks to pass through the shield and dissipate just before reaching his person. His white robes already singed, Arithon didn't really have any intention of letting the flames properly engulf him, he could sense they were somewhat potent for his kind and thus coming into contact with them would be somewhat unpleasant.

Renny turned his attentions to the capsule containing Sukri, he flashed only a quick look behind his shoulder at the dragon creature before back to his work. Time for you to get out of my body...

Placing his hands directly onto the crystal, the Necromancer began to push Sukri's spirit from his body. It felt, liberating to feel the thing that had bee irritating him like a bad itch, being moved from his mind and through his flesh down into the void in the body waiting below.

Renny sucked in a deep draw of air as he felt the last remains of Sukri put back into his own body. The man turned to see the battle before him. He'd have to get Matt in order to get Aeris out of him.

Aeris paid more attention to Matt's senses as he battled the dragon. She sensed his frustration, and was to an extent, amused by it. However, her own anxiety filled her own...being.

Turning to the Matt that stood with her, she spoke, "I don't know how well your reality warping is...but you might want to remember to stay near the necromancer so he can get me out of you! I'm sure the both of us would like that resolved as soon as possible anyway."

She gestured to the imagery showing Arithon enclosed within his shield, "Besides, hellboy there's got things under control."

Her focus was needle-sharp. "GET. ME. OUT....PLEASE."

The internal Matt whinced, flickering in appearance as his focus wavered between teh fight and the interal dialogue. "You are the worst mind guest I've had, Your Worshipfulness, and I've had a frickin' evil twin in my head. At least she had the decency to SHUT UP WHEN BOTH OF US ARE IN DANGER!"

~~~~~~~

External Matt grumbled to himself. "Little girl needs to be deposed and make it as a nobody. Order a guy in his own head...."

"I wouldn't want to deprive you of shooting things... see if you can hit this thing in the brain or somewhere vital whilst it's focusing on me."

Matt snorted at the demon's mental note. He got up and switched his aim to the dragon-thingy's eyes. The thingy had shields it looked like. His shots splashed agianst something and then burned through at point of impact before spauling out under the shield to the skin. It wasn't effective against that thing's skin. Against the eyes? It might work.

"Hey, Spooky Feller! Ifin' you want to get a shot at its brain, let it eat ya! Best way, I was about do it when you interrupted!" Matt yelled to the demon lord while snapping shots at the dragon's big eye. As he fired, he side stepped over towards J'age and Renny.

Renny spun on Matt as he got to them. In a half standing position, the Necromancer gripped the back of the man's skull, his fingers digging in deep. His other hand gripped the final crystal holding Aeris' body. The elf's essence was the easiest thing to lock onto, it overflowed with purity and light. Feeling her rush through him towards her own body caused his body to shake, it was almost soothing in a way.

Once the last bit of Aeris was out of Matt's body, Renny ripped his hand away and then moved his hand from the crystal once she was all in. Turning to J'age, the Necromancer moved close, kneeling by her.

Renny's still pale jade green eyes locked onto her. "Anything I can do?"

Sukri felt torn as he felt himself slide from the innards of Renny back into his own body, as if pulled along like links of sausage. Even when he was completely back inside his own body, something felt wrong, despite being miniaturized and capsuled inside a crystal. It would have to wait though, as he had seen through Renny's eyes the dangers that the group was already in.

Gaining focus of his mind, he began to expand his mental power to began the expansion of his physical being. It was going to be a slow process, but it was the only way he knew of to get back to his normal state. He only hoped that the Demon could hold off the dragon for at least the five minutes he was going to need. He had slain a dragon before, but that was centuries ago, and by pure luck. It was the same type of luck he was going to need in this place he suspected...

"Anything I can do?"

I wanted to say 'nothing', that I'd never willing accept help from such as he, but pride gives way to need. I nodded, not meeting his eyes, though I could feel them on me, like a distracting itch.

"Help me work my armor back on." Yes the words were grudging, pulled from behind stiff lips. Normally the arcane substance was easy for me to slip into, but at the moment stretching and twisting was not what my still healing body would accept.

Beyond..

Where Arithon danced with the dragon, keeping it's attention occupied, it turned fully from Matt to the Demon lord, fearsome jaw slavering as they snapped at him. The gusts from its wings sent the gritty foul ash over the entire group, making eyes sting and water fiercely.

Noting that Matt's enchanted bullets didn't seem to be doing much at all, Arithon cursed the uselessness of those around him. As the humans tended to say, if you wanted something done right then you should do it yourself. With the dragon now completely focused on him, Arithon led the creature away from the rest of the group, strategically moving out of the way just at the right moments to avoid massive jaws from closing in on him.

Doing away with the feigned struggle, Arithon strengthened his shield and then dispelled the energy directly back at the dragon, slamming into it's massive head as those jaws made another attempt at eating the demon lord. The force was certainly enough to knock the beast backwards once again and Arithon wouldn't be surprised if that jaw was minus a few teeth now.

Arithon took this opportunity to unleash several arcs of dark purple lightning into the beast. Unless the creature had a particular weakness to electrical energy the attack wasn't likely to cause any real damage but it would hurt quite a lot and enough pain could cripple anything, even a dragon. The creature roared in protest and Arithon intensified his efforts without getting two close, knowing full well a talon or tail could still lash out at him.

Feeling it was time to do something about the mobility of this creature, Arithon began to cough until a small horde of what appeared to be locusts spilled out of his mouth, their buzzing muffled by the pounding wings of the beast before them. Of course these small creatures were not locusts but a breed of demonic bug, designed especially to consume living tissue. Silently commanding the creatures, Arithon watched as they made their way towards the dragon with the intent of consuming the leathery flesh that composed the dragon-beast's wings.

Renny nodded and scooped up a piece of J'age's armor from the ground before delicately assisting her in replacing the armor. He wanted to take some time in studying exactly what the metal was made from, however now wasn't an appropriate time for something like that.

He darted a glance outward at the battlefield as Arithon sent out dark lighting from his person at the beast. The man or whatever he was seemed to be holding down the fort well enough.

Renny tuned back to J'age as he gently tightened one of the straps on her armor.

Aeris hadn't the chance to respond to the internal Matt's rant before Renny tore her from the poor man's mind and stuffed her into the crystal in which her body was harbored. A moment or two of disorientation flooded her before she realized what had happened. Then, her miniscule form looked up at the behemoth hell-dragon and then to Arithon as the demon lord struck the dragon with arcs of energy. Taking a deep breath she turned her attention back to the encompassing crystal. A blinding, unearthly light filled the crystal and it stretched against her power before it shattered at last and she felt her body roaring into its correct size. She stumbled a moment as she breathed in the acrid air, coughed and covered her mouth and nose with a hand.

She turned to Matt, Renny and J'age, and then focused in on the last as she saw the woman's anguished strain on her face, despite her silence. Glancing to Arithon whom had redirected the dragon's attention, she moved quickly to J'age's side and placed a hand each on the top of her head and on her side. "Relax." she instructed as she closed her eyes a moment, then opened them. They were pure white now and she saw the energy of J'age's lifeforce pulsating. She tightened her grip on her head, then redirected the lifeforce that seeped out to return. In the process, she gently urged the body to rapidly heal itself.

In under a minute, she was finished, the last of the wounds sealing up. She released J'age and stepped back, feeling the slight drain from the effort. Glancing around at the landscape, she understood why she felt the drain. This was a hellish landscape, and its foul essence weakened her to some degree. Still, she had immense strength to draw from, something not easily seen in her lithe form.

Then, she turned to the fight and as if casually approaching a pair of friends conversing amongst themselves, she strode forward. Arithon undoubtedly noticed her presence but kept himself busy. She held her hands out to the sides, collecting energy in each hand and waiting until they condensed fairly well before launching them toward the dragon. The energies moved to bind the creature's limbs...the first step of total imprisonment.

And the binding energies flew completely through the dragon's shimmering, shifting legs with no effect - Nor were the demon bugs finding anything to consume, the wings as incompletely manifested in this reality as the legs were.

But it one observant would notice that the purple energies unleashed by Arithon had injured it, just as those spat forth by the weapons Matt weilded. Causeing damage yes, but not fatal amounts. Burning though the shields that protected it would take sizeable amounts of a particular sort of power, applied judiciously.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

J'age slumped for a second in relief as Aeris had healed her. "Thank you" she said softly and it was addressed to both the Elvin Empress and the Necromancer.

Hot damn!

If I still had my mullet when Remmy did that, I'd have killed the kid. I loved that mullet, and it deserved my protection. Short hair's a more feckle, careless thing, normal, the red-headed stepchild of hair. I mean it didn't even cushion my head, even lift a lock to try and prevent the Cajun from imprintin' dermal ridges DIRECTLY ONTO MY SKULL.

But then I might have deserved that. I have really cared to get Rene's name right yet. Still amuses me to call anything but the right name....

Anyways, with her worshipfulness out of my head, the palace was able to crumble back to the empty prairie that I liked for it. One less thing to think about because right now I was busy. Plus, now I just gotta worry about myself.

I focused on the dragon-thingy. I was able to get a few holes that closed up quick. The demon lord was able to burn threw with his magic but it closed up shields just after him. Those physical bugs ain't done a whole lot of anything. "Hey, Ozzy Osbourne! Wanna try aimin' with me for its eyes? I'll try to group close together and hold weak his shield. You burn in behind my fire!"

I threw a shout over my shoulder. "Unless anyone has a good idea where this thing's bettin' power because I don't think this thing is its own source. Caster or projecter or something."

Aeris frowned greatly as the binding spells were ineffective in their purpose. If the dragon truly had existed in any form, it would've been bound even if for a moment. Such was arcane web configuration she had created. She tilted her head to the side, studying the effects that the gun from Murphy and the bolts from Arithon gave unto the dragon. She reviewed her own wasted spell.

Crossing her arms in thought, she looked over at Murphy. He's just...him...his gun shouldn't be working on the dragon, but it's Mr. Murphy we're talking about here. Something's gone wrong for the dragon's master when it comes to him. Her attention flicked over to Arithon, And him...his spells are of a similar, if not same arcane makeup as that of this hellhole...he's on home turf. Sort of. But, why is his magic working if this dragon is merely an illusion? Would his magic correlate to the caster as well, or the projector set up in some clever little nook somewhere?

"Time to bring light to the shadow of illusion." Aeris said aloud and gathered energies together again, this time to form a spell that would reveal anything or anyone directly or indirectly related to the dragon using a natural hiding location, or simply shatter whatever illusionary spell covered their very presence from detection.

"Come out, Wizard of Oz..." she spoke aloud, her words activating the spell as she cast it upward, an illuminating light that shone brightly in this dreary world.

As I continued to will myself back to my original state, I couldn't help but feeling a tad frustrated about the fact that I wasn't in the action, fighting alongside my companions. I watched as they continued to struggle to find a way to decommission the great beast, or perhaps an illusion it was with the flickering nature. I didn't care if either it was illusion or same sort of defensive mechanism, I do not like sitting by while those I am with are putting themselves in danger. Not only does it make me feel useless, but it goes against my first reason for being created.

As I finally reached normal size once again, having shattered the protective crystal as I willed my growth, I shook off the slight vertigo and got my bearings. The attacks of various natures were still not having much, if any effect, and the elven empress spoke, and brought together energies from around us. I had never seen this spell before, and took a tough defensive stance, ready for whatever the spell might reveal.

"Hey, Ozzy Osbourne! Wanna try aimin' with me for its eyes? I'll try to group close together and hold weak his shield. You burn in behind my fire!"


Arithon did not acknowledge Matt's words in any manner save to begin launching his arcs of power directly behind the enchanted bullets, aiming directly for the dragon creature. Regardless of what this creature really was, Arithon knew his ability could harm it and anything with eyes had a weakness in said eyes. It was certainly incredibly difficult to accomplish much in combat when one was blind.

Considering the others had so far encountered little success when attacking their foe, Arithon directed a wide arc of energy out of one hand in an attempt to surround the dragon and breach it's shield. By constantly applying such energy to the shield it should remain down long enough for the others to deliver some substantial blows, or at least that was the plan.

At that point Aeris cast her spell, the white light irritating to Arithon's eyes but otherwise not harmful. Arithon didn't have a lot of confidence in such means and figured her power could be better put to use but the demon lord didn't feel the need to command anyone. If absolutely necessary Arithon would deal with this creature himself.

"I suggest everyone throw what they have now whilst the shield is temporarily down."

Arithon didn't speak loudly but he ensured that everyone heard his statement.

The construct was weakening but it had served its purpose. The time the group has spent concerning themselves with overcoming it had allowed its creators to surround the intruders. From the savaged soil they erupted to begin their attacks.

Three of the Greater Masters and a swarm - fully a dozen - of the Lesser Masters were positioned about the group and as the Construct failed, they revealed themselves as they attacked.

The Greater Masters might have been much slower than the Lesser, but that was only in comparison. They were much faster than any human, and their flesh was rubbery, turning the blows of edged and blunt weapons with ease. It also could absorb a great amount of arcane energies with little ill effect, the energies being added to their own to use against those attacking the. Tentacles light and dexterous writhed as they called up lethal energies and their thicker ones were strong enough to lift a 747 and throw it a considerable distance.

http://www.atddm.com/second_small.jpg] (http://www.atddm.com/second.jpg)

http://www.atddm.com/third_small.jpg] (http://www.atddm.com/third.jpg)

The Lesser Masters were inhumanly fast and their legs ended in razor sharp scythes. Scuttling along at eye blurring speeds some charged in charged in, fangs that could pierce a tanks armor ready to inject their poisons. Others leapt, covering thirty feet with a single bound. And they were heavy, they stood six feet high at the ‘shoulder’ and were a good four hundred pounds each. Beneath their coarse fur they had chitin as dense and as tough as the depleted uranium armor of the tanks they could overcome. A mental link kept them working as a team, though each was fully capable of independent thought and action. Stronger than a human by far they were capable of savage destruction.

You’d think being Mister Murphy is all kicks and giggles. Yep, everyday’s a regular bundle of rakish scars, gals, mullets, and laughs. But that’s only half of it. I mean, it can’t be that good. Nothin’ is, so at a point or twenty karma’s gotta hand you the bill for those kicks and giggles.

Case in point, so me and the demon pop the dragon aaannnd…it decides to continue with the metaphor and deflate like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day balloon after snaggin’ on a light pole. It doesn’t fall on the demon, who’s closer, or float on and get the group behind me. It fizzles, it floats, bends, wafts, and flops smack onto me. Only me.

Tee hee hee. Look at his wide, sad eyes, that sunken look as the shadow spread over his face, then his body, all around him, bigger and bigger….oh, Martha, that Matt Murphy, what a whacky guy. Someone must think this is funny, dumpin’ the deflating dragon on the comedy relief, but that’s how it is. As The Murphy, you get powers of cosmic imagining…and then get pied in the face and slip on banana peels. It’s to keep you grounded.

Jackasses

I put the Daemon Eagles away, stuffin’ back into my jacket. They’re gonna be a mite useless, just as I’m gonna be. I’m gonna be a comical lump strugglin’ under a blanket for a bit.

I just can see it now…actually I can’t see anything. I got a peek behind the GM’s screen though.

Three writhing masses of hentai horror burst from the ground at surrounded by a bunch of spider-tuars. Two of the tentacle beasts decide to head for the demon. Frankly, I’m almost insulted. Sure, I’m not much of a threat at the moment, but if I were a tentacle monster I’d head for me.

I’m a very attractive man, or so I tell myself.

So while two of the tentacle monsters were heading myopically for Ozzy, the remaining monstrosity was going for the elf, true to stereotype. The twelve spider-man-praying mantis hybrids were going to keep everyone else busy. A trio each was headed towards the heavy hitters J’age and Sukri. A pair was going after Remmy. Oh, look, the elf’s tentacle beast is getting lonely and inviting along two of the spider mash-ups to join in the fun. And I get…

Two?

Only two?

Okay, I’m insulted now. So I’m under a deflated dragon and they’re heading over to beat me down givin’ the lump in the blanket a few lumps for good measure.

Hmmpff. Fools, don’t they know a Murphy’s never more dangerous than when you can’t see him?

As the failing dragon conveniently decided to land on Murphy, Arithon turned his attention to the various foes that had just conveniently erupted out of the earth. Evidently the dragon had been a distraction but Arithon didn't mind, there was no real harm accomplished yet. A quick glance around the entire group confirmed Arithon's suspicions that they were surrounded.

Two of the larger creatures made a bee line towards Arithon, their movement much faster than one would expect for a creature of that size. Despite such, Arithon was able to easily follow them and could match such speeds quite easily. These creatures may have been big shots in this little wasteland but Arithon considered himself far above such things. He'd lived for millions of years and spent such time crushing civilisations and worlds under his foot. He led an army of billions of demons and had concocted creatures that appeared far more intimidating than what lay before him. Nevertheless, all those years of experience had taught Arithon to be cautious, regardless of his first impressions.

As the two creatures approached, a hilt appeared in Arithon right hand. If one were to follow the hilt upwards they would not it appeared to be missing the blade that would complete the weapon as a sword. Whilst ordinary eyes would certainly puzzled, those with more acute senses would note that a blade did exist, one composed out of an arcane material unseen by humanity and great deal of other races. The blade was so thin to a point it was quite difficult to physically see and yet it was also incredibly sharp and unparalleled in strength. To this day Arithon had never encountered a substance that it could not cut through, whether it be organic or synthetic.

Standing quite still, Arithon waited until one of the large tentacle waving creatures drew close. At first there was a brief stand off as the combatants appeared to measure each other. Whilst the two beasts before him appeared to be mindless monsters, Arithon could feel them gathering energy and gained the distinct impression that his foes were more aware of the situation than their unflattering appearance would have others believe. The moment of passive observance passed as the closest creature launched a massive tentacle at Arithon in an attempt to pound him into the ground. Putting his speed to use, Arithon stepped to the side within the blink of an eye and extended his blade outwards, willing the blade to grow to such a length that it would be sitting directly under where the tentacle would land. For now Arithon would simply test what was effective and what wasn't before decided upon a true course of action dealing with his enemies.

Arithon

The rubberiness of the Greater Masters flesh let the tentacle - at first - slide right off of the blade's edge without piercing through the slimy coatings. However as the appendage fell along the length of the blade the preternatural keenness of the weapon prevailed and faintly glowing green ichor appeared in streaks along the all but invisible blade.

The creature trumpeted and in a flash the massive tentacle was withdrawn, as the first attack from it's companion was felt by Arithon.

Invisible energies enwrapped themselves about the Demon Lord -grappling him roughly and tossing him in a crude manner some dozens of meters away as a web of electricity sparkled about him seeking to paralyse the body he wore by overloading it's neuromusclar system.

Aeris

The Greater Master held back a second as the Lesser Master charged forward, at eye blurring speeds. The formidible clawed forefeet struck in a flurry of blows, each of the blows capable of flensing flesh down to the bone.

It's hard chiten, under the rough hair, would turn the attacks of edged weapons and the thick, wild hair would cushion the blows of blunt weapons.

The massive fangs struck as well, each carrying a heavy dose of neurotoxins that while it might not kill instantly would served to make the victim sluggish and uncoordinated.

Sukri & J'age

Sukri and J'age would find that the trio that leapt towards him coordinated their attacks, converging from all sides, pressing him hard and taking advantage of every opening.

The formidible clawed forefeet struck in a flurry of blows, each of the blows capable of flensing flesh down to the bone. The hard chiten, under the rough hair, would turn the attacks of edged weapons and the thick, wild hair would cushion the blows of blunt weapons. And massive fangs struck as well, each carrying a heavy dose of neurotoxins that while it might not kill instantly would served to make the victim sluggish and uncoordinated....

Renny

Only two went for Renny, but they came in from opposite sides, as if knowing that he was the weakest member of the team when it came to a physical fight - and they almost seemed to be clicking those terrible fangs in sneering laughter.

Aeris moved with an unnatural grace, dodging the flurry of attacks, though a few did slice at her clothing. Still, she felt in control, guiding the creature, though it knew it not, to it ultimate demise she had in mind.

Dodging another strike, her hand planted briefly on the ground, and a tremor rumbled outward toward the creature. It increased in ferocity, intending to shake it from its firm foundations. The Lesser was well balanced however and recovered quickly.

The fangs of the Lesser snapped dangerously close to her arm, but she managed to pull it back just in time. She felt the stiff hairs on the creature's skin brush her own skin.

"Oh, nasty. Bad bug! No biting!" she reacted aloud as she spun away from another striking attack. She struck the ground with a fist, and another ripple tore into the earth beneath the creature. Black liquid slushed to the surface, and deepened to trap the creature in thick, unforgiving tar.

Aeris didn't give it attention a moment longer than necessary, spinning now to face the Greater creature. "Aw...who's the pretty little puppy?" she taunted. Was she truly crazy enough to actually be enjoying this fight?

Sheesh...

I stayed calm as the ground around us exploded and out climbed new horrors looking all the ready to stop us from progressing as the dragon illusion finally failed. The creatures certainly put a nauseating in my stomach just at the sight of them. I had fought several hideous looking creatures and lifeforms in my time on this plane, but this things just reeked of pure evil as well as being an eyesore. The tentacle creatures looked for certain to be one of those beings of whom blades would be pointless, while the warped looking spiders seemed to be constructed for only one thing. That one thing was death and destruction, and a trio of them broke off and began to surround me, as if coordinating their efforts.

Now I must admit, despite being an archangel of heroes, and created from divine beings, I hate spiders. Call me a wuss, pansy, whatever, but spiders have always gotten under my skin. Now to be here, facing creatures that shared a great deal of the physical characteristics of the nasty beasts, it was enough to push me into the primeval survivalist mode.

The opening was made as they suddenly converged on me from all sides. I have to give them credit, they are quicker than the average foe I have faced, but I have spent untold centuries perfecting my combat skills, particularly in the athleticism needed for dexterous motions. I nimbly swung from a pair of massive fangs going for my arms and kicked off from the ground, going into a backwards flip, bringing my blades up to bare. Yeah, I had done this a time or two, I am a protector of heroes, and they don't exactly become heroes by fighting in favorable odds. Being surrounded is nothing to me, so let them come at me, they will find a capable opponent.

Arithon watched keenly as his blade initially had no effect. The two creatures before him were certainly created with a strong resistance to physical attacks in mind and it would take a truly substantial force to do any real damage in that regards. More so than a single sword would really be able to accomplish. Nevertheless, it was good to know that these things could be hurt. As the massive tentacle flinched backwards, Arithon prepared to launch his blade at the recently wounded beast when his second opponent launched an attack.

Caught off guard, Arithon was flung into the air and briefly soared through the thick acrid combination of gasses before landing, hard. His robe dirtied and torn, Arithon fought the surge of energy crackling around him and rose to his feet. The pain was there but it wasn't an issue, Arithon had learned how to ignore pain a long time ago and it would not cloud his mind like it would for some others. Digging his feet into the ground, Arithon immediately began funnelling the energy into the earth and out of the nervous system running through his body. Regaining a better control of his motor functions, Arithon squeezed his fists and pounded the earth with a force totally unexpected for one of his physical appearance.

The ground began to shake around everyone but that was really the aftershock of what Arithon had done. The majority of the energy he had applied was directional and travelled in two directions, reaching a location underneath the two greater masters before expanding upwards. The earth beneath the massive beasts exploded with enough force to knock down the sturdiest of skyscrapers. Not content with such, Arithon then began direction the flying boulders of debris back towards the grand masters, constantly pounding them with a barrage of stone and earth in an attempt to soften them up at the least.

With the energy arcs from one of the creatures now over, Arithon took to the air, deftly navigating as if it mattered little whether he feet were on the ground or not. Knowing full well that being knocked around a little was not going to stop these creatures, Arithon considered his options. He would either have to cook up something on a scale large enough to obliterate what lay before him or otherwise disable them in a less traditional fashion. Deciding he needed to learn a little more about his foes, Arithon began hurling arcs of what the uneducated would describe as lightning at the grand masters. The energy itself was of a demonic nature and certainly wouldn't be discouraged by the greater master's tough exterior.

Renny pulled out his dagger, the blade seeming insignificant compared to what the monsters rushing for him were wielding. If he could kill one, just one...the match would be made more even. The human dove out of the way as they rushed for him, a talon lashed out, ripping apart the back of his shirt. The man tumbled down the rise, the creatures following him.

Rolling to his feet, Renny looked up as the Lesser Masters split again, trying to flank him again. The man backpedaled, trying his best to keep on the move, he knew he would have to find a small crevasse or something he could hole up in and hopefully trap one. His fingers went around his belt, feeling the pouches for something useful. He brought out what looked to be a smooth golden-brown stone. The Necromancer brought it to his mouth and breathed on it as he squeezed, the rock stone seemed to crack. Time to see if the old containment ways work...

The Master on his right started to move towards him. The one on the left moved behind and around, cutting off a possible escape route. Renny threw the stone at the Master, the creature swung outward with one of it's talons to knock the offending nuisance out of it's way. When it's blade struck, the stone shattered into a small cloud of burning green light. The Master shrieked, as Renny thought, more in surprise than in pain as the fiery powder started to smolder and go after the fur on it's body.

Renny smiled, but his mind was quickly knocked back to the present as the other Master charged.

Matt..

The deflated dragon was dissolving and decomposing with various degrees spontaneity. Some patches were bursting in to roaring flame while others became little more than stinking goo, a slime that clung to whatever it touched with a unbelievable tenacity.

The lesser masters however seemed to be immune to either effect as they waded into begin reducing Matt to his component parts.

Aeris

In one place the tormented earth turned briefly to liquid, a thick tar that sought to envelope the lesser master, but like many natural bugs, this one could also , seemingly, walk on water, or at least tar, and it was untroubled by the sudden appearance of the viscous substance. It darted in again for another series of attacks, only a little slowed by the new surface it maneuvered upon.

The Greater Master chose now to act – as Arithon and Aeris had both used earth in their attacks so did this one, as the ground geysered upwards to form shackles about Aeris, rendering her ability to dodge null.

Arithon

The two Greater mastered bellowed – a language that sounded as vile as the words it probably contained, but the vast buffeting of erupting earth did only minor damage to them, forcefields shimmering into existence almost instantly. The oily bubbles deflected the first ravening bolts of demonic lightning with little problem. But they could not attack in return while the protective globes were raised, or so it seemed. As the lightning played over the bubbles and they did seem to fade a bit, but not entirely.

Renny

The master covered with the eldritch emerald flames charged Renny shrieking, its cries nearly paralyzing. The other chose the same moment to dart forward talons chopping furiously at the necromancer.

Sukri

The three lesser masters closed in coordinating their relentless attacks, though these fought silently. Fore-talons slashed with viscous swipes at the man, seeking to shred Sukri.

J’age

A trio of the Lesser Masters had engaged J’age and -though Matt wouldn’t realize it till later - she had recalled the Daemon Eagles to her hands. She had been on her knees, still recovering at the arrival of their newest opponents and she had ‘reached’ for the weapons that would hit at the greatest distance. The massive pistols had no recoil as their normally lethal rounds spat forth, and she got off four in the space of a heart beat, and while the two targeted seemed to stagger and openly showed wounding it only seemed to slow them somewhat.

I'm pretty lucky I'm too busy to realization what I should realize later. As long as she keeps her mitts out of other parts of my hyperdimensional pockets, I'm cool with it. If I need forty-three lengths of one-inch long string flog some vermin to death and I come up with air, I'll be pissed...and infested. As it was I was still quite busy and quite relieved to come up with what I was looking for a bundle of baked bacon tubes wrapped in uncooked bacon and a medical oxygen tank.

Now you might be asking, Matt, what do you intend to do? Have a snack and keep yourself from hyperventilating as yer cut down by the monsterous Journeymen coming for you?

No, I intend to start a grease fire. Muddling around under the defalted dragon, I hooked the oxygen tank up to the bottom of my bacon bundle. I opened up the regulator, and there is a special reason I carry this one. It's a recalled item, the aluminium regulator's shoddy as all get out. If you were anyone but me, it'd probably be a quick way to a fire...well it is even with me, but with me, it isn't me that gets burnt.

The regulator failed and the otherwise calm, sedate, life giving flow of oxygen was replaced by a whoosh as the oxygen escaped the pressurized tank. I aimed the small tank and bacon bundle upwards. The pure oxygen flooded the bacon and the stored chemical energy in the breakfast meat ignited. A stream of ionized bacon gas erupted upwards. Five thousand degrees of ejected pig flesh burned sparked against my draconian prison and then burned through.

I waved the bacon torch about me to clear an opening. The all too perfect hole I cut caused the dragon skin to fall about me to my feet. Standing free and clear, I was rewarded with the mind-blowing screech of one of the Journeymen as it recoiled in bacony horror. One claw and its face were seared clear of hair and the mouth watering smell of baked lobster hinted that my non-kosher cutting torch had made an impact on one of my foes.

Snapping myself from bacon and seafood medly, I remember I wasn't alone. I spun and whipped the plasma torch around to ward off the other spider-centaur. It reared back but then calmed as it watched my fire sputtered to nothing as the oxygen tank expended itself and the bacon bundles were consumed. I looked at my defense, looked up at the monster, grinned and threw the useless contraption at the thing and drew my claymore and my dirk.

[OOC: The Stretched Truth (http://www.popsci.com/bacon)]

With his foes now on the defensive, Arithon watched carefully for any reaction that might indicate what was more effective. The battering of earth did minimal damage, confirming Arithon's assumption that a physical assault was not the best option regarding these creatures, especially when they appeared quite capable of erecting some sort of arcane barrier. Noting the faltering nature of the barriers under his attacks, Arithon decided to step things up a notch.

Whilst maintaining the electric blast with one hand, Arithon held his palm facing upwards with the other hand and promptly produced a small orb of crackling power. The air immediately received an odour of freshly burned ozone as the first orb levitated and was soon followed by four others. Initially these orbs were the size of tennis balls but they quickly expanded in diameter until they reached something closer to a bowling ball. Satisfied that four would be enough, Arithon silently willed the orbs to float off towards the Greater Masters, taking up positions north, south, east and west of the creatures. With the orbs in place, Arithon ceased the attack from his hand and willed the orbs to take action.

The air exploded with a retina searing flash as all four orbs discharged a constant stream of power directly at the Grand Masters and their shield. This attack was far stronger than Arithon's previous discharge of energy and by attacking from four directions Arithon hoped to completely overwhelm the shield, opening a path for him to launch another attack whilst his enemies were dealing with the four orbs.

Taking a quick moment to glance around and see how his comrade-in-arms were faring, Arithon was able to catch the end of Matt's bacon fuelled flame thrower before it fizzled into nothingness. Despite the man being a painfully irritating character, Arithon had to give him credit for being ridiculously resourceful. The others all seemed to have their hands full with whatever had decided to accost them. Not wanting to be caught off guard, Arithon kept his assessment of the battlefield brief and returned his attention to the two Greater Masters.

OOC: Hope you don't mind me doing something here that should extremely devastate, if not outright kill the Greater... I can explain the chemistry bit over IM if you want.

IC:
Aeris groaned to herself as she saw the one creature hardly inhibited by the tar field. Another groan followed by a greater growling from her throat arrived as she found her limbs shackled by the earth beneath her. Turning her head toward the Greater Master, she snarled as it approached.

She turned her attention on herself now, and within a few seconds, she had turned to mist and slipped free of the earthen prison. Solidifying a moment later, she instantly cast a shield around herself for protection. It was then she noted a distant rumbling in the air, and she turned to watch as the arid landscape, covered in dirt and sand, blew a massive sandstorm their way with alarming speed. As it swept over them, she felt the hairs on her neck stand on end and she widened her eyes. Static... she realized, shifting her attention now to utilize this storm to her advantage.

Reaching into her pocket, she extracted a fairly large vial. Inside, it appeared to be only water. The full truth however, was something she had recently been experimenting with in extremely safeguarded protocol procedures. The water, suspended in buckyball formations and by the formation of an internal vaccum, was capable of suspending and stabilizing the containment of antimatter within the formation. As long as the balance was kept, the antimatter would not annihilate everything in its reach.

With the vial in hand, she tossed it toward the ground between herself and the Greater Master. She watched as the ground turned to ice, and spread with a little replicating spell she had made to accommodate this volatile weapon. She watched as the Greater Master hesitated a moment to look down at it, then continue its forward movement toward the elven woman.

It was then she rose her hand toward the sky and above the Greater Master a ball of static electricity began to collect rapidly. Keep moving, bastard, she willed the monster. That's right...be the magnet... Suddenly, there was a blast of heat and light as the static struck the ground at the base of the Master's feet. Instantly, the ice liquified, turned gaseous, then solidified. The electricity would have destabilized the buckyball forms, released the antimatter, and literally consume in entirety the flesh of the Greater Master. In a half-second, the ground would return to ice, and the Greater Master partially buried. Only the parts that were buried would have been destroyed. The rest, provided shock and death didn't soon come to finish the job, would still be functioning.

Still, the pain would have been beyond imagination... Even the heat of the blast had overwhelmed the shield Aeris had formed, and thrust her backwards to the ground. She rose up on her forearms, surveying the results while keeping an eye on the Lesser Master still dealing with the tar situation...

Every one Please read this post carefully.

Arithon

Arithon’s four cornered approach, could only handle one of the Masters – the two were too well spread, for if he had tried to encapsulate both he would have ended up with in the area of effect as well. But it seemed to be most efficacious. The Greater Master thus bombarded screamed – and it hurt the hearing of all of those about – and it’s shield collapsed, and it dropped to the ground and lay twitching. Severely injured it was, if not fatally wounded.

At the same time -The second Greater Master, huddled, as the eldritch demon lightning played over it’s oily shield, then it began to twine it’s tentacles in a furious fashion, and from the ground, nearly at Arithon’s feet sprang chains of an unknown metal, and they sought with speed and strength to bind the demon lord. The first touches against Arithon’s legs produced an unignorable, incredibly painful burning to streak up his body, a feeling akin to his skin being sizzled away.

Matt

The lesser master attacking Matt resumed its blinding attacks as the bacon burner sizzled out.

Everyone

The scream the first Greater Master produced washed over all of those present, stilling for a moment even the lesser masters, leaving them – and the heroes’ as well, vulnerable.

The monstrous anti matter explosion that encompassed the group all but at the same time as the scream from the Greater Master Arithon's globes had enveloped – threw everyone off their feet, hurled them many feet, if not yards distant – and brought injuries to everyone, and all of their opponents. But the only one that had died from it was the Greater Master directly addressing Aeris.

Arithon grinned slightly as the closest Greater Master's shield failed and it roared in pain, evidently quite injured. It was good to know his foes were not immune to his demonic ways. Nevertheless, the downed foe was not dead and still capable of doing damage merely by whining at an uncomfortable pitch. Slightly disorientated from the scream, Arithon had no warning regarding the antimatter explosion and was promptly thrown to the ground by the concussive force of the explosion.

Slowly returning to his feet, Arithon cursed the elf-woman responsible. Aeris was a force in her own right but as far as Arithon was concerned she was incredibly immature and didn't deserve the abilities she possessed. Not that it really mattered, he would see the end of her and Tarlachia eventually, allowing his own domain to expand exponentially through the region.

Before Arithon could return his attention to the Greater Masters before him the earth beneath his feat ruptured open to reveal metallic looking chains. Lightning quick speed allowed the chains to attach themselves firmly to Arithon's lower legs and unleash a torrent of searing agony. Whilst Arithon certainly considered himself above the influence of pain, the chains came as a shock and he grunted into severe discomfort. It may not cloud his mind but Arithon was not beyond a nervous system screaming in protest.

Somewhat angered by the attack, Arithon snarled at the Greater Master attached to the chains, his face momentarily looking far more demonic than human. At that point the air around Arithon ignited in searing white flame that seemed to be sourced from within the demon lord. The oxygen around Arithon was immediately burned out and the ground beneath him quickly began to liquefy into something resembling magma. The heat could certainly be felt from a distance but Arithon restrained the flames to his immediate area in attempt to melt the the chains attached to his legs, which he assumed would also conduct a significant amount of heat back to the Greater Master before the chains fell to pieces.

Whilst the other Greater Master lay injured, the orbs continued to apply their electrical discharges, independent of Arithon's current situation. They would continue to do so until either destroyed or Arithon willed them to do otherwise.

Renny's hopes for a quick kill were dashed as the Master hurtled itself at him. The Necromancer glanced back to the other Master as it charged him. Renny turned and ran up a steep embankment, hoping for some kind of advantage. The rocks under his feet gave way, the man managed to maintain his footing briefly, then the searing pain as one of the claws of the Master just cut across the back of his right leg buckled his body.

Renny fell and tumbled down the slope, he tried to catch himself, but luckily for him he did not. The blade arm slammed into the ground where the man would have been if he had stopped. Lying on the ground below, he tried to rise to his feet, Renny could feel the warm blood sleeping down his pants leg into his shoes.

The Masters swung back down the slope, gunning straight for him. The earth shattering cry halted them, their steps missed and both stumbled down and went back him. Renny grasped his ears, trying to block out the sound, but it was a constant, undying ring in his ears. The ringing didn't stop, the next thing he felt was his body being lifted into the air before being violently smashed into the rocks.

The man was flung several meters across the rocky surface, cuts and bruises covered his body. But the final strike broke through all the other pain as his left shoulder dislocated. Renny lay on the ground, his face bloodied and his arm lying slightly limp. He stared up at the sky, not sure of what to make of everything for the first few moments.

The ringing remained in his ears, but Renny slowly, carefully and painfully drew himself to a half-standing position. Several meters away he could make out the Lesser Masters desperately trying untangle themselves as the patches of flame that survived tried to move over to the other Master.

As I landed on my feet, one of the beasts was on me again. I had to move my feet quickly to keep from a fang ripping into my right shoulder. The other two were closing in right behind the lead, and it was not looking good. Still, I slashed at my initial attacker, going for the "shoulder" for a lack of a better word. A strike that normally would have severed my foes arm from the rest of his body looked like it barely even scratched the creatures hide. And in the moment of awe and frustration from the slash, I allowed my opponent to grab the upper hand once more in the engagement and quickly there was a gash across my abdomen. Bright red trickled from the wound and a fire lit in my eyes. The creature tried to rip me open and spill my guts? I would be having none of that thank you very much.

I planted my left foot and feigned a strike. The feign worked just as I planned and one of the two trailing Lesser Masters moved to strike out with his fangs. Throwing all my strength into the jump, I went flying past the attacker and landed roughly onto the back of the trailer, planting myself with my blades. I was unprepared for what happened next though as the antimatter explosion sent a disastrous ringing in my ears and the blood from my wound began to pour out. I was totally disorientated, and was just trying my best not to lose consciousness as well as hang onto the Lesser Master.

As the ringing began to fade, I was able to concentrate on the entry my blade had made in the back of the creatures neck, as it was implanted there, dragging me along with it as the creature began to go berserk. A nasty substance, which I assumed was it's blood, was oozing profoundly from the entry, and the creature began to slow. Finally, after a minute or two, it fell over limp, with me landing just beside it, able to pull my arm out of the back of the neck. My reprieve from one creature meeting its' demise was brief, as the other two were coming out of their confusion and coming down hard on my position. I hadn't the time to check on the progress of my comrades as I backpedaled and tried to keep pace with the ferocious attacks of the creatures, hoping they might tire or present my with an opening....

Ya know what? When yer over a millenia and a half old, havin' lived through the discovery of antimatter and the theoretical calculations of its total mass to energy transfer, you'd think you'd take a moment before carryin' it on yer person. I mean, I wouldn't think of takin' a bottle of nitroglyercin to a rave, but even takin' a vial of a minute, microscopic amount of antimatter for a walk?

Oh Buddy, I wish I'd had the TNT equivalency figures on hand...more than I wished I'd known Aeris was packin' antimatter...woulda given my snark the appearence of a scientific-supported wittism.

Rarety from me, I know.

~~~

One Lesser Master was flailing abot blindly, wretchedly. I'd burned its eyes shut, but I'd also pissed it more off more than I'd gotten towards killin' it. Then again, it was purty much a danger to both sides in this bit o'skirmish. It helped keep the other spidertaur off its A-game.

"Come on, Crispy Critter! I'm over this way." I yelled as I dodged around the intact monster. The injured creature howled and charged at the sound of my voice and straight into the monster between us.

So I was tauntin' it keep the other one off its A-game. People who say bein' the Murphy and havin' the proportional powers of a genre-savvy heartthrob like yours truly are the arrows in my quiver don't know jack. Bein' an irritatin' loudmouth is, and I've gotten a lot of mileage off it.

I didn't have time to gloat or quip or really breath before I saw a bright light beside me. I had just the time to glance over and see Aeris get eveloped in the blindin' flash. I cursed and turned around, heavin' my sword and dirk down into the dirt. I needed some a running start for headway. I didn't need the weight of those weapons and I didn't have time to slip them into a pocket universe. As I ran, I murmured a mantra that'd gotten me through many a rough point including the Battle of Agincourt, a runaway train outside of Yuma, and vampire infestation in Pest. It went roughly like, "oh shite, oh shite, oh shite, oh shite, shite, shite, shite, shite, shite, shite, SHITE!"

When the explosion caught up with me, which took a bit longer than the others no matter their distance, I jumped and spread out. And when a heroic figure, yours heroically in this case, leaps forward at an optimal forty degree angle and with the aid of a tailwind caused by an explosion, a hero achieves a state of unassisted human flight as his body creates enough lift to negate the downward acceleration of gravity. Thus a hero can extend the range and flight time of his leaps. I made use of this, gliding towards the ground with my jacket spread out behind me, looking like a flying squirrel of pure death and sauvity.

I rolled as I hit the ground, coming up on a knee. I knew that anyone facing me would have this picture-perfect image of an explosion filling out, dying out behind me as I just looked at them intensely. And I was intensed...I mean incensed. I stood up, turning about and drawing a pair of pistols from my jacket. My Lesser Masters were in a heap twitching. I had no way of being sure they'd been killed, but as the saying goes "there's no kill like Overkill."

I shot at the Less than Masterful heap, before taking a glance towards where Aeris had been. "You still alive, yer Worshipfullness?"

Aeris heard the distance voice of the Murphy man, and looked his way. It seemed that despite her shield that had certainly spared her life from the tremendous explosion, she had lost temporarily some of her hearing. Which, for an elf, was saying a lot when she couldn't exactly make out the question being asked of her.

She shook her head, poked a finger in one ear to clear it, then spoke aloud, perhaps a little too loud, "Why are you talking so low?! Everyone in this realm probably knew we were here the moment we arrived, so there's no point to whispering!"

Pushing herself up onto her feet, she looked at the Lesser Master just as it cleared the last of the tar and was being drawn to her voice. She shut up, not out of realization, but out of concentration.

Bracing herself, she held both hands out until the creature could be seen fitting in the space between her hands from her visual perspective. She spoke a few words of arcane origin, and then, with a slight grin, she switched to the common language, "Honey...I shrunk the bug!"

Her hands compressed closer and closer, and swirls of strange arcane matter spun about the Lesser Master as it halted, uncertain with what was going on as the world around it exploded exponentially in size. Even its prey, the funny looking, weird speaking female was getting far larger than it was liking...

"Now, to stomp!" Aeris's booming voice was heard and the Lesser Master, realizing the mortal danger of the heavy earthquake shattering footsteps approaching, turned and fled.

It didn't get more than a dozen footsteps before it's life was literally crushed to extinction.

"Aeris you do something like that again without forewarning us, I shall escort you to my Father personally" I growled low as I climbed out from under the pile of remains. They had been, once, Lesser Masters, but my sword had reduced them to corpses and the explosion had buried me under them. My armor's runes were glowing fiercely and my hair was a tangled mess, but otherwise to all outward appearances, seemed unharmed

"You have just given a while new dimension to the negative side of friendly fire!" I continued as I pulled out the modified DE's and sent a pair of rounds sizzleing into the pair of Lesser Masters mostly dead by Renny's flaming hands aided and abetted Aeris's massive explosion. That sent them tumbling to the ground.

I glanced around more and saw Arithon and Sukri both still in combat. "Damn it Demon kill that thing or I'll begin to suspect that your powers are all hype and no go! Sukri that goes for you too."

Then I sat down hard and really, really wanted some asprin.

Renny looked over at J'age after she threw the final blow to the Masters he had been tangling with. He was satisfied that his fire was enough to get him through this new world, plus he also had other toys to play with. His arm was numb, turning to his left arm, it dangled somewhat limply from the socket. Gritting his teeth, he shifted the arm till it felt realigned, knelt to the ground and slammed it against the rock.

Renny let out a howl of pain as the limb popped back into place. He twisted on the ground, trying to work through the initial shock. After some minutes, he got to his knees and moved in a hunched stance back to his bag. Popping it open, he removed a bottle of painkillers and scarfed down a pair.

Falling on his back, the Necromancer let out a long sigh as he felt blood and touch returning to his left arm.

I looked over my shoulder as the Magin' Cajun howled. The young man scrabbled against the ground, writhin' in pain. I turned back to my pile o'master dregs and pumped a quartette of rounds into them before slipping one of the pistols back into my jacket. I walked over towards Renny and knelt next to him. "Boy? Forgettin' somethin'?"

I glanced about to make sure all the baddies were busy before slippin' my remaining pistol into my back waistband. I took a hold of his leg and looked at the cut. It sure looked bloody. I'm sure some qualfied, licensed doctor would have hissed in a breath of air looking at the wound.

But what does a quack like that got on me except a bunch of unpaid student loans?

I pushed up the kid's pants leg to get a close look at the whole wound. I glared at the wound to let it know it was going to play along or I'd rub salt in it. Once the seeming vicious laceration got the hint, I snorted. "Eh, it's nothing but a flesh wound."

And it was.

'Lo is the power of the Murphy, Most Feared and Yet Loved of HMOs, Benefactor and Chief Cause for Solvency of Bandage Companies Everywhere.

I set the kid's leg back down and rooted around in my girl Victoria's messenger bag. I came up with a roll of guaze and began dressing Remmy's wound. I looked up at the kid. "You gonna be able to keep up after you took whatever you just took?"

"Damn it Demon kill that thing or I'll begin to suspect that your powers are all hype and no go!"

Arithon ignored J'Age for the moment as he noted the reckless actions of Aeris had somewhat assisted in putting an end to the battle and so he figured it was time to settle things himself. The heat Arithon had applied to the chains had done their part and caused the Greater Master to reel away in pain. It was a momentary respite but it gave Arithon the chance to deal with the downed Greater Master.

Returning his attention to the balls of electrical energy, Arithon willed them towards the injured beast and watched with satisfaction as it loosed several screams of agony. The spheres rammed into the Greater Master simultaneously, overloading the beast with searing electrical damage that would no doubt result in it's death. Now it lay unmoving, a sickly smoke rising off the corpse. At this point, Arithon replied.

"I have one on the ground over here that you may be able to deal with, try not to hurt yourself..."

Arithon shifted his attention back to the final Greater Master in time to dodge another attempt with the searing chains. Avoiding them seemed like a good idea and so Arithon promptly relocated himself into the air. Still emanating a heat that was cooking the very air around him, Arithon ignored the fact that his robe had burned away, he was not bothered by human concepts such as shame or modesty.

Not standing idle for a moment, Arithon disappeared in a momentarily blinding flash and reappeared directly behind the Greater Master, within arms length. Not wasting any moments by allowing the Greater Master to react, Arithon promptly placed his hands upon his foe and began channelling all the heat into the beast. The ground was literally turning to liquid below him but Arithon paid that little heed as he focused on melting the beast before him. Assuming it wasn't particularly resistant to heat, it would likely burst into flames and melt quite soon.

While my wound might have been bleeding more from the antimatter explosion, it was sure doing a number on the Lesser Masters balance and cohesion. Before the explosion, they were working in unison, each ones attack complimenting the other. Now, they were still attempting to work as a single unit, but their timing was completely off from one another. This realization gave me a wonderfully wicked idea on how to dispose of my combatants.

I began to take the initiative and swung forward with my blades. My mind focused in on the one attacking from my left, as it appeared to be the most disorientated from the antimatter explosion. While my attacks kept the right one at bay, I began to probe into the mind of my assailant. Its' mental defenses were strong, and my initial probe resulted in a shock to my mind. I reached out again this time, feeling my way around its mental defenses. Viola! There was a small chunk of weakness, most likely caused from the explosion.

There is always a bigger fish my friends. Time to meet yours.

Using the weakness, I pushed forward my will onto the creatures mind. It was clearly bothered by this and began to shake its head about, trying to toss out my mental infiltration. It was too late of course, once inside the mind, I was like a snapping turtle, only willing to let go when I so desired. Grinning, I used my full assertiveness on the poor creatures mind and it began to charge forward at its comrade, putting use those fangs meant for me into the neck of his kin. That nasty substance that had poured from the Lesser Master that I had brought down exploded from the wounds, as it appeared we had severed an artery.

While you have done your job well, I can't have you tagging along. I prefer bipedal. I'm sure you understand.

As I turned around and marched back towards the group, with one arm covering the gash across my abdomen, I could not help but to smile. Even the runt had gotten into the mix. Still, I needed to add to the dramatics, and I brought up my free arm and clinched my fist. At the same time, I let go of my control of the Lesser Masters mind, by destroying it, with an icky gray matter flying from its' ears, and it falling over with its eyes glazed.

Noticing that the bleeding was still pouring from my wound, I asked,"Someone have a bandage?"

I waved the Eastern over. "I guess, I'm playin' doctor right now, pard." I squinted to get a look at his ab wound as he walked closer. "I hope you ain't use that arm to keep yer entrails in. That might be a tough one to deal with."

I am my father's daughter, and will be whatever needs to be. And that does not allow for weakness, though I really wished Casca was here now. For him I needen't be my father's daughter, just myself. But he was not with us and so I surged to my feet. My wounds were not visible to the naked eye and thus, ever cat like, I ignored them.

Behind me Arithon did the demonly thing and flambeed his remaining opponent. Okay so he wasn't all talk, finally. Though between him and Aeris the locale was a molten, mordant mess and we'd best make our way out of here.

And Sukri didn't do badly either - he's nearly as good with a sword as I am and he is obviously very adept at doing multiple sorts of combaqt simultaneously.

I looked at the others, taking stock. Rest might be desired but I had a feeling that staying here would be a very bad idea.

"I think that it would behoove us to make our way out of this general vicinity. I doubt that reinforcements will be long in showing up..." And while I wanted to make some snarky comment about Arithion's inability to keep his clothes on, I'd leave that for the Murphy. Usurping his Universe given Talent was not in my play book - I'm just not going to be a snide Death.

With both Greater Masters now thoroughly dead, Arithon casually strode over to where he had dropped his blade willed the hilt back into his hand. There was nothing to wipe it on so he simply forced the goo that had come out of his foes off his blade and onto the ground. Arithon didn't have a scabbard or anything resembling a sheath for his weapon and so he held onto it. He could simply will it away if need be but for now he would keep it handy.

Gazing over to the others, Arithon began heading towards them. It appeared everyone was done or mostly done with their attackers and J'Age highlighted the need to be out of the immediate area. Arithon couldn't really disagree with that. As he moved towards the others another white robe seemed to materialise around his body whilst his hair and skin cleaned itself, returning Arithon to his image before the battle. For one that claimed not to be concerned with modesty and appearance, he did like to maintain himself. By the time he caught up with everyone he appeared as if there hadn't been any battle involving him, the white robe completely lacking in burns, smudges or any other marks.

"And where would you suggest we go?"

"I guess, I'm playin' doctor right now, pard." I squinted to get a look at his ab wound as he walked closer. "I hope you ain't use that arm to keep yer entrails in. That might be a tough one to deal with."

I smiled briefly. Humor even in the face of danger is a quality I can admire. Many of my charges have had that, and it has rubbed off on my a little. Still, the humor was short lived and while distracting, did not help with my situation.

"Just get me a bandage, I'll be fine. Immortals don't die that easy my friend." I said confidently as I strolled over. In truth, the wound would heal on its own in a matter of hours, but the amount of blood I'd lose would still make me vulnerable and I weakness for the team. I couldn't willfully sabotage our mission just because of my knowledge of being healed shortly. It also helps me keep up the mirage of being human, or at least helps me feel more human. That feeling is something that keeps me driving on now, now that my world has died and I am the last chunk of it remaining. Still, I smiled and waited for the bandage, knowing full well once we were properly patched up, we should move as J'Age had mentioned.

Renny lay on the ground, letting the painkillers numb his arm, a sense of temporary bliss was in his body. He put his fingers to the ground, this place was dead, there was nothing here, no life left in it. He lay there for several minutes as the rest of the group busied themselves with their wounds. His mind wandered, gently looking for something, maybe there was something...

"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy where are you!? MOMMY! AH!"

Renny's body shot up ramrod straight as the dying screams of the little girl tore through his brains. His eyes wide open, thin jade colored rings were around where the iris should be marked the only detail in the otherwise pure white eyeballs. He let out a long gasp that turned into a low roar. He stopped after several seconds, his breathing became long and shallow, he twisted to the balls of his feet and knelt.

He could see it, it was beautiful and macabre, distant figures en masse on the horizon, he could see them clearly as though he were next to them. The dead's bodies bore witness to the pain they had endured in the transition between life and death. Many looked panicked, some looked resigned to their fate. Highways of the dead, all were going towards what looked to be an area of mountains off in the distance.

Renny let out a scream that sounded like it was from a small child, his body buckled and twisted as the scream continued. It stopped suddenly and violently, a sound of tearing flesh came from Renny's mouth before it too stopped. The Necromancer fell forward, sweat flowing from his face, he gripped the ground to steady himself.

Renny turned back to the group, his eyes still possessing single jade ring in each eye. He pointed towards the mountains. "That is where we must go. An intersection of the highways of the dead. But...but...something...something is...something is killing them. Tearing them apart. We must go there."

I shuddered, for I felt the very deadness that he was feeling, complete and unnatural. Even the Realm of Death felt more 'live' than this pseudo - reality of Imitora that had been. The presence of the welcoming committe had blocked that, but now it invaded the senses and left an oppressive heaviness.

I shook my head trying to clear it of that miasma knowing that it is affecting the others as well, and summon the Pale Horse. Taking the slow road across this inimical landscape is not an option.

I ignore my pains, and look at Abbadon and the others. "Mount up"

I look over at Renny and guess that he is in no shape to handle himself. Without much in the way of a by-your-leave I toss him up and swing up behind him.

It hurts, I ignore it.

Aeris took a few steps closer to where Sukri was being tended. "I can take care of you better than---" she began, before her eyes went wide and she clutched her chest. She sank to her knees as horror spread across her face. Pain flowed freely in her expressions as well.

She didn't hear when the order to mount the Pale Horse was given. Nor did she hear anything else. Instead, she only heard the screams of the dying dead already beyond the threshold of Death's door. The souls that didn't move on, but were simply consumed.

Tears, big and wet, slid down her face and shattered upon the dry, cracked earth. Her torso bent in half, her forehead smearing into the earth. It only served to accentuate what she felt now in full horror.

"No....life...." she managed to gasp out as she willed herself back to her feet. Shells clamped around the pain, harboring it away inside her, to be dealt with in smaller amounts rather than all at once. Bleary eyed, she looked upon J'age, whom studied her with a concerned look. Yet, she would see that Aeris was coping, though difficultly.

"It hurts..." was the only thing she offered as she approached the Pale Horse, a slightly trembling hand reaching for the horse.

I reached out to help Aeris up, and let her see the compassion in my eyes. I am become Death but she is very much Life and this plane is inimitcal to her very essence. "I know," My voice is soft, meant for her alone. I will never have children, but she carries twins beneath her heart. And she hasw a mothers heart "but remember this isn't real, this is but a manifestation that we will eventually control, then things can be set right"

Exerting the strength that is what I need it to be I lift her up and settle her in what comfort there is. It hurts, I ignore it.

Arithon watched in silence as the human necromancer flailed about on the ground like a possessed rag doll. For all the dramatics, he did manage to give the group a direction and so Arithon refrained from commenting on his little performance. No doubt Murphy would likely have something at the ready to amuse himself. Before the group could get moving, Aeris decided to put on a little display of her own and Arithon sighed with impatience. The woman was forever a drama queen that seemed to let her emotions control her rather than the other way around. The demon lord could understand why Abaddon chose her nation to attack.

Arithon could feel what was going on just as well as Aeris or J'Age, it just didn't bother him. He had consumed souls himself and if any of those around him found themselves within Arithon proper they would encounter something very similar, mass consumption of souls to feed Arithon's growing horde of minions. The demon war had certainly provided him with an ample supply at the expense of most other Fatal Terrain nations.

Taking a brief moment to feel out what was going on, Arithon reasoned that there was likely a somewhat unpleasant purpose for this mass soul consumption. A lot could be done with the ethereal energies if one possessed the know how. Eventually Aeris managed to pull herself together yet Arithon ignored the Empress, uninterested in her sympathy for the dead. Once everyone was 'saddled up', Arithon simply levitated into the air, opting to move of his own accord as opposed to riding the Pale Horse.

I glanced down at my wound as Aeris had began her approach. Despite her never tending the wound personally, her own aura, intermixed with my natural healing mechanism, sealed the wound. Shrugging it off to some sort of design in my creation, with Aeris very much being the near embodiment of life on Terra, there was no need for my to question the occurrence. I just took a mental note of it, in case any other such occurrences were to be needed, or a wound needing a quick fix.

The appearance and order to mount the Pale Horse does not sit well with me. It's a creature of Death, of the dark demise, and a polar opposite to my own existence. I can deal with Death himself, for he does not set forth the motions that cause his reckoning, but instruments that accelerate that process rub me the wrong way.

Still, I am here to do a mission, and though I could very much feel the consumption of those poor souls, there is little I can do about it. I am only meant to guard the path to the Heavens, not be the guide of the souls. That path does not reach into this pseudo reality, nor do I suspect that the guide can make his way here. Taking but a brief moment to internally console those being consumed, I then lift myself onto the Pale Horse, and prepare myself for the ride ahead.

This place is taking it's toll on all of us, affecting each of us differently but none the less because if those differences. Even the Murphy is quiet as he is the last to come to the Pale Horse.

The devestated countryside speeds beneath us, the Pale Horse travelling at speeds far in excess anything conventional. Though this is far slower than it can - it is being dragged at by the pseudo land, the tortured mockery of what had once been Imitora. I can feel it straining to obey my command, but is drained and but a ghost of it's normal self by the time we arrive.

Had it been minutes, hours, weeks, time itself seemed to shift and veer as we travelled. Some places it ran in red limit streaks, at others it blue shifted into a slowness that made the simple act of blinking take hours. Nor is is a smooth ride for several times gravity shifts about us, causing us to momentarily weigh far more than we normally would, or to feel the unpleasant effects of short sharp bouts of weightlessness.

But however long it takes, the time is not restful for any of us. Even Arithon looks to be strained by the energies that his flight has drawn from him

But despite the hinderance, eventually we draw near to the event horizon. The resemblance is undenyable, and what lies at the center of that swirl of revenant debis is what we have come lay waste to.

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