To unlock the greatest power (First of the seven journeys) (closed)

[Aiko]

Deep within The Abyss, at the very bottom of the great planar cavern, in a mansion far grander than any royal palace, lay Calbrena and her sisters. Disappointed they lost the battle with Sei Orlouge to keep his daughter, Anita Orlouge, the five sisters left their brothers and father on the other side of the mansion to gather in a secret room of the mansion only they could access. It was a rare moment in the family of greater demons, a moment when they were not fighting among each other, weren't arguing over who was better at what, weren't involved in politics and intrigue, just gathered around talking.

“It's all there fault of course. They had Holy Water on their side. If we had something that could match Holy Water, we would've won.” Envy said.

“It was more than that, they turned us against each other, save for Sloth, Wrath, and myself who were alone. Fact is, we were outwitted. We don't need more power, we just need to learn to work together better. If the gods can do it, why can't we?” Greed asked.

The event bothered Calbrena, not because it was a loss, but because it was another loss. Time after time, she always seemed to lose in any event she took part in. Fights at the citadel saw her losing to her opponents, such as when she fought a non-lethal dual against a clown in the citadel. That was embarrassing. It was a non-lethal duel. All she had to do was use one joke after another. She was weak, even when she committed to one side, she was still weak. She needed more power.

“I think we need more than that, more than thinking things through more, more than strategy, more than unity, we need more power.” Calbrena said.

“There are no more powers. If we were to get anymore we would begin intruding upon each others domain.” Lust said.

It was true, the seven sins had some form of most known powers in one fashion or another as it applied to their domain. But Calbrena truly had no domain of her own. Wasn't there something, anything she could get, that she could call her own? She remembered rumors, half finished conversations she had heard her father having with Pride, and with other visitors of a variety of species and alignments.

“But, what about The Eternal Hellfire, couldn't I at least, get that?” Calbrena asked.

The four older women looked as if Calbrena had just announced Doomsday was upon them. Each of them scooted several inches away from Calbrena, taking other spots on the pillow covered floor, well out of the torchlight on the gleaming marble walls. Greed and Envy held back tears, as though Calbrena had just died. Lust merely looked disappointed. Pride stood up, and put a hand on her confused baby sister's shoulder.

“I beg you, don't be foolish. The Eternal Hellfire isn't a power that can be controlled. Once it is started, it does not stop! No water or magic has ever been found that can stop Hellfire. Even the elder demons of long ago tried to stop it, and they could not. Instead it turned upon them, and destroyed all but one Elder Demon. Our father. He barely escaped with his life.” Pride said.

For the rest of the evening, Calbrena never spoke a single word, instead she wondered why it couldn't be controlled. Her four older sisters told on her, repeating the event word for word to her brothers, and their father. Xith'rith'xail hung his head in despair. He didn't want to lose any of his children, and if Calbrena pursued this, he would lose her. He left to speak with Calbrena, alone.

“Corruption, Calbrena, I've been told you seek Hellfire, is this true?” Xith'rith'xail asked.

“I never said I was seeking it, I merely asked if I could get it? I mean, isn't it possible to unseal Hellfire?” Calbrena asked.

“No, not it is not. When my brothers and I sealed it away long ago, we spread the key out across the planes in fourteen parts, one part for each plane, and Thayne. No one's going to find them all, we made sure of that.” Xith'rith'xail said.

“But why can't I have a chance? Why will it turn upon me?” Calbrena asked.

The Demon God looked at his daughter. In his wisdom and experience, he realized the concept of getting the power had taken root in her mind. In essence, it had already claimed her. He could fight with her, argue with her, even imprison her, but it would do no good. She would find a way out, determined to try. She would fail, he was certain of that. No one could ever find all fourteen parts of the key. He would help her then.

“Fine then girl, but don't come crying to me when you fail. If you want to get the power not even I could control, then you'll have to gather the keys, two on each plane, both hidden together in secret places, Pride knows where. One more thing, no matter what, you have to offer a sacrifice to the Hellfire, innocence born of your own body. In so doing, you will prove you are completely evil.” her father said.

Calbrena knew what was meant by innocence born of her own body. Could she do that? Could she go that far? To sacrifice another's was one thing, but her own? That was unforgivable. It would curse her horribly, put a stigma on her from which she could never recover. Suddenly she understood why no one could control Hellfire, no one was willing to go that far. Was she? As she slipped into bed with a male demon, she knew full well that she could.



Later, Xith'rith'xail sat before his desk, having finished three separate letters. He sealed them up, and gave them to his demonic servants to deliver. Off they each ran to seek out the recipients, and deliver their message. Each would take a form that could be considered trustworthy by those they sought, an Aibrone monk. Their neutrality was legendary, and few ever thought them to be anything but honest.

“Dear sir,

Tales of your deeds have reached my ears, and they have piqued my curiosity. I wonder if you could handle a challenge. There are relics and artifacts scattered across the planes, influenced by the planes in which they rest. I don't want them, I'm quite happy with what I have now. No, its my daughter that wants to acquire these treasures, and I would like you to accompany her. There's plenty to go around, I assure you, that which you acquire would be your payment. I'm offering power that cannot be normally obtained.

If you are interested, then use the orb enclosed with this note. Simply hurl it to the ground before you, and it will smash apart, and take you to the darkest and most evil of all planes, Castus Malum, home to all the dark gods of Althanas. Otherwise, keep it, sell it, discard it, the choice is yours.” The letter said.

It would be a full three days at minimum, before he could begin expecting a response to his letters to Lawerence Spades, Lord Lorenor V'halkulus, and Metaldrago Scorpio. He would wait for them where they would appear, in the hall of Gods, entryway to Castus Malum. A room with an oil based painting of each god. He would wait beside his own picture in particular. As always, he would appear as a human, in a pinstriped business suit. Black with white pinstripes of course. A white silk dress shirt, and a white silk tie. He would sport a bowler that matched his suit, and black dress shoes, well shined. At his side he would carry his black mythril cane with a gold top and foot, Diamonds Emeralds, Rubies, and Sapphires studding the cane. What would appear to be a black cloak, would instead be his demon's wings.

Yes, he would wait for an answer, surely they wouldn't disappoint.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Within the ranks of all of Althanas, there was one. One very special individual who had long ago sided himself with the cause of evil. This individual, heard the call of N'Jal and helped rebuild her cathedral on Althanas. It was nestled in the bosom of N'Jal that the mutant found himself these days. Living contently and obeying the word of N'Jal. Lorenor had become a faithful servant of N'Jal, only rivaled by that of the legendary Spider Magi. MetalDrago Scorpio was his comrade in arms and a fellow student of N'Jal. As one of the disciples, the mutant was content with spending the rest of his days in quiet servitude of the dark lady. Within the dark, they could scheme and plan.

It wasn't until a Monk of the Order showed up at Mosil-Z'sarug. Many eyes were upon this individual as he made his way directly to Lorenor and Lorenor alone. Sitting in deep meditation within his personal chambers, the monk slipped past the guards and easily materialized within Lorenor's bed-chambers. A door to Phantaria popped open in the middle of the room and in ventured the monk. Shocked, Lorenor sat up in his bed and prepared to engage the intruder. Several guards, previously invisible, were already upon the monk. When he raised his arms up in surrender, Lorenor knew something mysterious was in the air.

"Hold!" Lorenor called out to his guards.

Immediately, they obeyed his command. Lorenor slid out of his bed, completely skyclad, and walked over towards the monk. Long had Lorenor studied within The Citadel to become a more effective warrior. His eyes searched the monk for a long moment, the fellow wore the robes of an intermediate ranking individual. They were green robes embroidered with a black trimming. He wore gloves, and had long hair tied in a ponytail. The man had fierce blue eyes, his hair was auburn colored. Lorenor blinked at the intrusion but was ready to hear the monk out.

"What causes this matter of intrusion?" Lorenor suddenly asked.

"Forgive me Sir Lorenor." The monk said in response. "I come to you with a matter of urgent concern. I have with me, parcel that would be read by your eyes only. Within the parcel is contained an invitation to a certain challenge, a challenge issued by my master." The monk continued. "My master cannot reveal himself at this hour."

"Is it one of the elders of The Order?" Lorenor asked, his interest was admittedly upon the subject at hand.

"I was asked to speak to you in private about this matter."

The monk said carefully. He found the courage to look at the undead guards that were staring him down. Lorenor listened for a moment and decided that he would at least hear the monk out. He waved his guards away from his bed-chamber so that they could be alone together. Lorenor moved towards a set of chairs that sat stationary by a table. He easily got two of the chairs and moved them so that they were near the monk. Offering one of the chairs to the monk, the mutant placed his chair exactly opposite the monk's person. He sat down, still skyclad, and studied the monk much more carefully than before.

It was interesting, but the monk did not seem nervous about his naked physique.

"Ahem." The monk began. "My master has invited you to a special event. An event that one of his many children is hosting. Your name was considered as one of Althanas' greatest adventurers." Lorenor nodded when he heard all of that. "On my person I am carrying a parcel, within that parcel is a device you must use that will translocate you to my master's current position." He explained. "Only you can use this device." The monk handed the parcel over to Lorenor's person.

"It has been a long time since I've been offered an invitation of this magnitude. Your master sounds like an impressive person." Lorenor said, interest in his black heart.

"Please, before we continue you must read the letter enclosed with the parcel." The monk said casually.

Lorenor obeyed, at least for the time being.

His skilled hand removed the letter from the parcel, and removed the orb-like device as well. Several pages were stacked together and the hand-writing was quite elegant. As the monk had stated, there was an orb that seemed to glow with tremendous power. Lorenor studied the orb for a moment, and then carefully placed it on the nearby table. With precision, the mutant set it on the table so that it would not roll off and break prematurely. From his standing position, the mutant looked at the monk with an expression of concern. He'd finished reading the letter and learned a great deal about the situation at hand.

"What is Castus Malum?" Lorenor suddenly asked with concern etched on his face...

***

Of course Lorenor would go. To learn the secrets of the planes, and become a true planeswalker, the mutant would go to any lengths to obtain such a power. After, he'd spent a time talking to the monk, Lorenor had learned of the situation at hand and who the monk's master was. Due to his evil nature, the mutant accepted the situation as it was. He simply wanted to help a fellow villain out. After smashing the orb against the ground, he and the monk vanished off towards the elder demon's position. The orb contained a special gate connected to Phantaria. One that Lorenor had never seen before.

Traveling through the gate was an instant process. Soon, they both materialized within the realm known as The Abyss. The Firmanent within this level of reality smelled of sulfur and brimstone. But Lorenor quickly adjusted to the heat. After all, Lorenor was born from the fires of Haidia, so the fires of The Abyss would be no match for those. It was within a grand palace that their host awaited, a palace grander than any he had ever seen before. Even more grand than The Citadel itself. Impressed, Lorenor walked over to the elder demon. He wondered if the man had Haidian origins, or something perhaps, much more mysterious. Lorenor looked at the handsome demon for a moment, and bowed deeply towards him.

"Forgive the delay, I had to prepare a few choice matters before leaving my home. I am a person of some standing within my community." Lorenor said carefully choosing his words in front of the demon. The monk had already revealed who the demon was, so the mutant was not surprised to see the fellow before him. In fact, Lorenor found that devil to be quite a handsome one. "What is the nature of this engagement?" Lorenor asked. "And what is Castus Malum?"

[Knave]

When Lawrence had received his letter, he had finished masquerading as a navigator among sailors and navy deserters. He had spun tales of gold and riches, weighted rings, and glory. He had sung songs with them of lost loves and liquor. He had shared their hopes, to raise their spirits. Then one night he had neatly dispatched them to the belly of the beast. Glad to rid himself of them.

Once again, on dry land, he walked the island of Scara Brae, seeking settlements and people. He had changed to formal dress, unable to consider comfortable attire when he once again wore his own skin.

The monk soon arrived.

They met inland on the forest path, the dusk placing a bloody sun at the monk’s back, and a snapping wind threatening the wide brimmed hat Lawrence wore, forcing him to hold it in place. The monk had the face of a kindly old eunuch, simple, soft, and strange, his robes billowing, and his true shape formless. He said nothing in greeting, but made an offering of a single letter to Lawrence, who looked down on him impassively. The letter was of mild interest; however, he had other things on his mind.

“How did you find me?” While he stared at the monk, golden eyes unmoving, he swiftly moved through his memories searching backwards through time and recollection.

The frothing ocean, seething with tentacles, had yielded no survivors. The dank, over populated shipyard he had visited, the bartender he had spoken to, the whore he had laughed with, none had seen his true face or been given reason to suspect that he was not who he seemed to be-- not what he seemed at all. Months, years, faces flew by with distinct clarity. ‘No one can ever know.’ He thought, closing the distance between himself and the monk with a dozen steps.

“But, you are a man of renown; surely everyone must know your name.” The monk said, his eyes cast down his expression humble in spite of the game he was playing. “Even my master knows of you, and he has sent you an invitation.”

Lawrence stopped the last two feet away from the monk, his emotionless mask unmade, replaced by a frown. “Hmm, if I am so famous, it is news to me.” He said reaching for the Monk’s letter, rather than his neck. He read it once, then again to be certain. “I see.” He said, reserving all emotion for whatever games he would play later. “And what can you do to prove that this is not some trick, to lynch me?” Vampires were often subject to mob and moral murders, Lawrence suspected worse treatment for his kind.

“What can I do? What can I do indeed. I have nothing, but the letter of God, and the clothes on my back.” The monk replied, his head finally raised, wrinkled bags around his eyes hiding the laughter he contained.

“Spare me. If nothing else, show me your face.” Lawrence removed his hat revealing himself to look something like a dark elf, though stretched and skeletal. “I have made forgeries enough to fill a mausoleum; I know a fake when I see it. Men of these parts, and any other, usually sport some deformity, a unibrow, a mole, an overbite. Ugly things, really. You look like you’ve stolen that face from a picture… one of the priests in Bolivio‘s Sacrarium?”

“An attention to detail! You know you‘re stuff.” The old monk stood, laughing in camaraderie with his obsidian counterpart. “In our trade, are you what we might call an artist?” There was pride in his words, the demon was glad to meet another of his type if not his kind. Complying, his face vanished, the robes hung on the shoulders of smoke.

“No. What I know, I know out of necessity, when you do it every day it really is quite easy.” Lawrence replied, balling the letter up in his fist. Crushing it to not one tenth of its size, he shattered the orb enclosed in the paper and let it fall to the ground at his feet. A cloud of ashes seeped into the air, surrounding him, pulling him into the night. “What is hard is putting a persona to a face, and recreating a man. A mask is meant to be worn in character, and in the open.” He said, granting some advice to the demon, his voice echoing and distant before the wind swept the last of the ashes away. “What is my benefactor’s name?”
“Xith'rith'xail!” The demon answered, hissing a name that loosely pronounceable.


Anyone who could find Lawrence Spades deserved his attention.

__________________________________________________ _______

Lawrence stepped onto a new path, and he was prepared. He knew where he was, but he did not know what danger resided here.

When he moved, it was swift. The byzantine laws of fashion were abided by with an obsessive touch. Besuited, his tall figure proceeded through the grand doorway of Castus Malum. Today, as this changed often, a giant walked the halls of Gods. Lawrence’s spider like limbs moved carefully with poise.

He was no titan, he did not block the ceiling or sky, but he was well above most living things at the height of eight feet tall. When Lawrence Spades entered, the eyes of portraits, the eyes of gods, did not follow no portraits gaze wandered him, despite his height and appearance. When his little girl had remade him in her image, she had made him invisible to the divine. The infernal would have no such problems.

Approaching the only two inhabitants of this lavish hall. He could guess which of them was of more importance. The gaudy caped creature set itself apart from the other man by the expense of his clothes, the air he held, and the fantastic jewels encrusted into his cane. Xith'rith'xail apparently liked to wear his wealth as the symbol of his authority.

Lawrence approved, “You have summoned me, and I am here.” Lawrence’s voice was civil even as he looked down on a monster. “What exactly do you propose?”

[MetalDrago]

MetalDrago sat in his offices, in front of a desk, studying ages old maps of Althanas. He was looking for something very specific. There were ancient places in the world that had remained forgotten for years, and he had every intention of finding these old places and using them for strategic purposes. There were old abandoned farms from hundreds of years past, where the land was still fertile, old mines, forest groves, and even some abandoned forts that could be used to house goods and soldiers on the march. With these maps and an eye for abandoned roads, they could take over these old areas and turn them towards their own uses. He rolled up one of his maps and stuck it back in his desk.

He took a sip of his wine and rolled it around on his tongue, the flavors returning his thoughts to the here and now. Flickering candlelight was the only thing that kept his office lit. As one of the Dark Paladins of N’Jal, the Dragonian did not need the light of day. He put down his wine glass and looked about his room. The smell of burning wax filled the air, and the flickering light revealed a rather sparse office. MetalDrago pulled his cape around himself and ran his fingers along the wood-grain of the desk, feeling each knot and irregularity in the wood. Not too long ago, he’d been nothing more than a wandering warrior with no purpose, no true power, and now he was a Captain in one of the most evil armies to ever stand. He’d chosen this path, and he was happy with it. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest as he thought of where he’d be now if it weren’t for N’Jal and Lorenor. He’d still be lost, trying to be a hero in a world where heroes could not thrive. Only the truly villainous had any chance of earning the power that they desired, such as it was with the Dark Paladins. They’d sworn themselves to N’Jal and were rewarded with powers that they could not fathom.

Suddenly, the Dragonian knew he wasn’t alone anymore. He drew his sword but remained seated. His bodyguards wouldn’t be far behind the man that had entered if he started trouble. “You approach the Paladin of the Dark Dragon Corps. Tell me your name, or die where you stand.”

Before him stood a monk, and his eyes seemed to radiate with a similar evil power to those of the Dragonian himself. “I come to deliver a message, nothing more. Give me whatever name you desire, and I shall respond to it.”

“Very well… Leave the message on my desk and I will read it. Then leave. I have little enough time to entertain guests as it is.” The Dragonian spoke soundly and waited for the man to place the message on the table. When he did not, the Paladin looked at him with a slightly annoyed expression.

“My master has told me to inform you that your brother in darkness, Lorenor, has already accepted his invitation. He extends the same invitation to you.” The monk placed the parcel on the table and seemed to melt into the shadows. The Paladin looked up at where the man once was and shrugged. Things often happened to himself and his brother that were unexplainable in nature. He turned his attention to the parcel and opened it. Inside there was a letter and a strange pulsating orb. He examined the orb for a moment, noticing the swirling dark energies within, and noted that it was probably an item of some power.

Then he read the letter. It was simple, concise, and very well worded. Thoughts of rewards and riches were always promising, but the promise of power… Now, that was something that could not be ignored. He took the small orb and stood up. He tossed it up in the air unceremoniously and watched as it fell to the ground and shattered. Before he knew what happened, he was in Castus Malum. He looked around himself and saw the many idols of dark gods, and oil paintings of the same. This place seemed almost like a long lost home he’d found his way back to.

He approached Lorenor and two other people he did not know. “MetalDrago Scorpio, at your service…” The Dragonian’s voice was little more than a low hiss as he spoke. He turned to Lorenor and nodded. “It seems we’ve both been called to carry out a dark duty this day, my brother.” He turned to the third man and nodded. “Seems like we’ll be working together.” That was all he had to say before turning back to the man who brought them here in the first place. He waited patiently to hear exactly what this job entailed.

[Aiko]

“First, allow me to welcome you to this dark unhallowed place, and to introduce myself, I am Xith'rith'xail, The Demon God. Despite my human appearance, I am a demon, however I choose this less powerful form because my true form is too powerful for everyday use. But enough of that, I know the details of what this task entails is of interest, and Lord Lorenor has asked an equally fair question as to what this place is. Both fair questions, both to be answered, starting with what this place is. Please, walk with me.” Xith'rith'xail said as he moved towards an oak door.

He opened it to reveal a long hallway, made out of the same black marble the rest of the plane seemed to be made of. Red carpet making the floor. This hallway was the hall of history, each picture representing a different part in the history of this plane. The demon moved down the hall with a stately grace, people moving to get out of his way, save for one lumbering brute he hit with his cane. Once hit, the brute went flying, as though hit with tremendous force.

“He should've gotten out of my way. Now, this place is Castus Malum, it was made by N'jal ages ago when this world was young. She desired a place safe from her brethren a stronghold. A desire we all feel at some point. Now when I say she made it, I don't mean it literally. No, she simply ripped a hole in the fabric of reality, and it repaired itself around her, spawning a new plane in the process. Now, I'm not familiar with all the details, but it is a known fact that eventually, she was caught by Hromagh, sealed inside a mountain, and thrown into the sky for what must have seemed like an eternity. Now if I'm not mistaken, she has indeed returned, and for that I congratulate my dark sister.

But I must carry on. When she was sealed, her spirit contacted D, myself, and the other Dark Gods of Althanas. She struck a deal with each of us, the details of which are thoroughly private. However, the result of that deal, is that instead of being her private stronghold, all the Dark Gods banded together to create The Dark Pantheon, and we all rule Castus Malum, our followers coming here to follow their dark desires openly. Sacrifices, learning dark arts, simply learning more efficient methods of killing, hiding from authorities, you name it, it can be done here. Many strong agents of evil use the resources here to do their planning. In summary, this is the elemental plane of Evil. It is guarded by N'jal's most powerful of servants, The Scion of Evil. He can never leave this plane, ever. It is his sole task in life to guard this plane against the forces of light.

Because you three are of a kindred nature to this plane, you are welcome here, anytime you wish to come. After all, the forces of Light aren't the only ones that can cooperate and work together. The Dark Pantheon, and those who enter here, exist in a democracy, with The Dark Lady herself leading us all.” Xith'rith'xail said.

Finally they reached the end of the hall, and opened another one. The main room of the temple, where each deity had an alter before a statue. Xith'rith'xail's statue was missing, only an empty pedestal where the statue should be. He sat down on his pedestal, people quieting down to hear what he had to say. He shooed everyone but those he had summoned away. Only two remained. A fire red skinned demoness with coal black horns, wings, eyes, and hair. Her wings were wrapped around her, and her eyes were roving over the three arrivals. The other was surely the most beautiful of fallen angels. She wore white robes, her feathery wings and silky hair looked to be scorched black from fire. Her eyes were blue like an ocean, her lips bright red like a ripe juicy apple.

“The task at hand has come about because of my youngest daughter, Calbrena. My children are renowned world wide as The Seven Deadly Sins. I have eight. Calbrena is the Eighth Deadly Sin, Corruption. But she is far weaker than her older siblings. She is determined to unlock a power I have hidden away for eons. It is an ability that remains unrecorded in history, along with the events surrounding its creation. It is known as The Eternal Hellfire. Once long ago, I had seven brothers, all older than me. We were not gods, we were simply powerful demon sorcerers. We followed no god, we believed only in our own power. Yet even we knew something that was obvious at the time. The powers of Evil were not as great as those of Good. Villains rose and fell, sometimes in a single day. We simply could not get strong enough, fast enough. Bear in mind, this was before Castus Malum was available for anyone's use. My brothers and I hatched a plan, while Evil did have many powers, they weren't as stong as Good's. So to even the playing field, we would combine all the powers in the world, into a single force so great, it would rival even the strongest powers of Light.

To that end, we set out researching, and though it took us a hundred years, we succeeded, too well. We spawned a power that was pure chaotic destruction incarnate. A power so terrible it would scare the living memory of all races for the rest of eternity. Yet my brothers could not control it. I wisely chose to abstain, waiting to see how it would affect my brothers before I took part in it. The hellfire turned against us, called us traitors to our ideals for seeking to impose order upon it. With their last dying breath, my brothers gave me all their power to elevate me to godhood, in the hopes that I could help them. I sealed them all away with The Eternal Hellfire, in a Demi-plane I created in the firmament. I scattered the key across the planes, and to this day, not one person has ever gained control over The Eternal Hellfire, though history is riddled with those who inadvertently discovered the key and tried only to be destroyed.

Now my little Calbrena wishes to try for it. I could fight her, I could imprison her, I could argue with her, but she has bred true, for all my efforts would be in vain. I can see that much. I'm not asking you to stop her, or reason with her. I'm asking you to help her, those who I know I can trust with my daughter's safety. The keys are hidden in secret locations of power, each on a different plane. I'm not asking you to do it for free either, I'm willing to give you my brothers belongings, hidden in each of the planes they mastered. Weapons, armors, amulets, spells, all their power. I have their magic, it is mine and I will not surrender it. But their items and spells, these have great power according to the plane each brother mastered. Imagine having spells that could unleash The Great Nether, power from The Anti-firmament. These are things one does not ordinarily acquire in a lifetime without great research. I myself cannot help her anymore than this, for reasons that will become clear if she succeeds.

Don't get me wrong, you can try for The Eternal Hellfire too, if you wish to gamble your life on the slim hope that it might accept you, for Hellfire has never accepted any who wish to master it. However, if you do, you must pay the same price my daughter must pay. You must sacrifice innocence born of your own body, and in so doing, prove you are truly evil. However, you don't have to try for it. You don't even have to help my daughter and gain the power my brothers once held. However, if you do choose to take up this challenge, their power is yours once you pass the trials protecting each location. My eldest daughter, Pride, will show you all the way, for she too has been to Hellfire's Alter, but only to study it academically without trying for its power.” Xith'rith'xail said, going over the reason he brought them here.

He stood upon his pedestal, raised his cane, and slammed it into the ground. Power shot up through his body, turning him to stone. The Fallen Angel and the demoness stood before the statued god. They were beautiful, temptingly so. Obviously, they were his children, but who was who?

“Father, always leaving without introductions. I am Pride, eldest of The Seven Deadly Sins, and this is my baby sister, Calbrena, the Deadly Sin of Corruption. At least she will be deadly if she succeeds, which honestly, everyone doubts. Please, hands off, she's three days pregnant. This is a timed mission, for if she isn't before Hellfire's Alter within one hour of giving birth, she will be unable to try again, until the circumstances are right. The first task is to go through the caverns in Castus Malum, and retrieve the Jewel of Castus Malum, and the Jewel of N'jal. Niether jewel has any power by itself, though it is keyed to the one it is named after. My father's own items lay here. Questions?” The fallen angel said, introducing the pair.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Placing his hand upon his chin, Lorenor listened to everything their hosts had to say. From his tenure in Haidia, the mutant knew what a Demon was. He wondered if the man in the suit was connected to Haidia somehow, and he would need to ask the man questions. Questions about his own origins. He looked at Pride and Calbrena for a moment, acknowledging their presences. Pride was the lovelier of the two and this placed the seeds of interest in the mutant's black heart. A realm forged by N'Jal. Is this home then? There were many questions that the mutant still had about himself. All he knew was that he awoke in Haidia's caverns with no previous memories about his life before that. Instinctively, he simply lead his life until he had carved out a purpose for himself.

Following The Demon didn't seem like an entirely terrible idea. In fact, it was clear that the fellow had intricate knowledge of the Thayne and could become a valuable resource indeed. Castus Malum was a place of evil, a place that Lorenor could call home away from Mosil'Zisarug's troubles. In fact, he knew, due to his nature as a male creature of Greed, he would be coming to Castus Malum oft. Lorenor's eyes were locked on Pride for a moment or three as he studied her. He felt a distinct connection to the elder Demon, without understanding exactly why. Perhaps all of these creatures held secrets for Lorenor to discover.

More importantly, his Greed would be satiated here. There, in Castus Malum, he would have an eternity to discover secrets of power. He would have an eternity to become much more finely attuned to the resonance of N'Jal. Lorenor, in his heart, was an industrialist. He was an adventurer who dabbled in the lost relics of the past, and the relics of the future. Lorenor took a glance at his friend, MetalDrago, and nodded with profound respect to him. Then he looked at Lawrence Spades, sharing an equally respectful nod to the fellow as well. He saw them both, though he knew nothing about Lawrence, as equals. Lorenor returned his gaze to the position of Pride. Perhaps I can be so bold as to ask her for a kiss? Lorenor shrugged the idea aside.

He stepped over to Pride and Calbrena casually. He was going to take on the leadership role as he so oft did in his life. Lorenor folded his arms across his chest, sliding his hands into the sleeves of his well forged robe. Listening to everything that the old Demon had said, Lorenor thought carefully about the adventure that lay ahead. His mind was pondering eventualities. He looked at Calbrena for a moment, and then to Pride once again. That feeling of attraction, never left his gut.

"It will be an interesting job to be certain. Let us hope that your Sister can succeed in the task that is ahead. I am wondering if you could offer a place to stay and work within this palace...?" He asked politely. Castus Malum interested the mutant greatly. He wanted to learn as much as he could about it. The longer that Lorenor stood there, the more deeply attuned he felt to the connection with N'Jal. N'Jal was whispering in the back of his mind louder than usual. She was whispering thoughts of home, of a place to belong to. Lorenor turned towards MetalDrago Scorpio. "N'Jal is welcoming us home." He said carefully so as not to insult Lawrence Spades, who still stood in the room with them. Spades was an interesting person and there would be plenty of time to get to know that fellow well.

The game of demons had begun.

[Knave]

The latest arrival appeared, greeting them all in turn with due civility, ready to fight for the cause. Even though Metaldrago did not know what it was.

“Seems so.” Lawrence replied, guarding his name and his thoughts like the treasures they were. Arrogance damned devils, pride stripped angels of their wings, Lawrence remained silent for the virtue of safety. Within his mind he cast a searching light, seeking his mistress. This would interest her if she were not already reveling in the dreams of dead men.

Turning his iron gaze on the demon master, he listened, nervous tension flooding his body. The shape shifter’s long limbs stiffened, he felt every bubble of saliva in his mouth pop and go dry. The sense of metal terror soon replaced all taste. Universal, and yet alien instincts told him to run.

Unchanging, immovable Lawrence did not indulge these things, instead placing his hands in his pockets, forcing a practiced, easy stride. He fell in line with people this thing deemed his equals. On his first appraisal Lawrence found nothing about them lacking, no iniquity in manners or form, but there was nothing on earth like him, and so he felt apart. Not even the realm of evil itself, which had claimed him as its own while he was unaware made him feel safe.

This was old evil, and much like old money he regarded it with a mixture of reservation, hunger, and fear. The humanity of his warped features had at one point been pure, Lawrence knew the legends. They had rocked him to sleep, left him cowering under his sheets ‘till daylight’s saving dawn. Now, a different man, he was just as interested as he was terrified. How much can I lose? How much can I win? His thoughts were cut off by the sudden strike Xith'rith'xail made as he hit a large low level demon.

Lawrence watched the wretch sail through the air, the point where it had been caned a mess of blood and bone. Droplets of green blood trailed after the body. Lawrence did not laugh at the offhand comment that it should have gotten out of the way. He just watched the stupid thing try to pick itself up, and then passed on with the others.

Evil was elemental? There was plane devoted to it? Evil could work together? At this last question Lawrence balked at the unthinkable, and then smiled, a chuckle trying to escape the ivory bars of his teeth. If all the powers of past evils were combined, and a power to shatter the pillars of heaven to send it crashing down in flames was born, why was it sealed away? Had it been defeated? Or was it too strong, and thus a wasted endeavor?

No. Lawrence knew better than to think he was hot enough to tame fire. The other prizes sounded good. All of them.

And what would they have to do? Ferry a weakling across every perilous ravine, carry her to the heights of hell, and allow her the chance to destroy herself on a gamble. There was a lot to be gained, and so long as Lawrence was not staring his own uncertain mortality in the face, he was for the plan. Two figures arriving soon brought Lawrence out of his deep contemplation.

Finally, Xith'rith'xail made his exit, the talkative demon becoming stone in body, and apparently departing in mind alone.

The demon master’s two children appeared, full figured, curves defined. On first sight Lawrence wished to be a man again for a few seconds to enjoy them. Then the cold seeped back into his mind.

With drawing his hands from his pockets, Lawrence approached the two for a second, and made the gesture of a bow as befitted royalty, he then introduced himself. “I am Lawrence Spades. I look forward to our journey, and… please, give my condolences to the father.” Lawrence’s heart gave one last thud, before it was forced back to making silent beats. With this he was committed.

[MetalDrago]

In life, as in death, things always remained the same. Sacrificing the soul of an infant for such power was surely within the Dragonian’s grasp, but he would not allow himself to do it. A power such as that, that could not be controlled, was nothing he sought to have. He’d given up on using fire as a power. The other treasures, weapons, and powers capable of being gained in this place were immeasurable, anyway. He nodded at Pride and Calbrena. A less experienced version of him would have chuckled at the cliché of it all. He was to act as a bodyguard to a pregnant woman. He again looked to Pride. The fallen angel seemed somewhat familiar to him, if not in body, then in purpose. He’d had his own battles with his own inner pride in the past, and being around this particular deadly sin was… interesting, to say the least.

He could feel the dark power of this place, and would love to gain some small measure of it. Weapons, charms, amulets, powers beyond the very thought of mortal experience. These were things worth striving for, but for this young Deadly Sin to gain the Eternal Hellfire, that was a power worthy only of one with a truly black heart and soul. The Dragonian couldn’t help but wonder if he had the darkness of spirit to control such an abominable creation, but pushed the thought aside. Any amount of power was worth seeking, but if it destroyed the wielder in the process, it was not worth pursuing. No, what he desired was something much more controllable, though nonetheless evil.

When Pride asked if they had any questions, he could think of a few. After Lorenor asked if they could have a place to work within the palace, the Dragonian decided now was as good a time as ever to ask his own questions. “There is great power here, I can tell that much. There a power I seek, myself, though, a power known as Negative Magic. Is there anything in this place that holds that kind of magic?”

Negative Magic was the one power the Paladin prized over anything else. It was said that a master of Negative Energy could take and reverse the power of any magic cast at him. It could take any power, deconstruct it, and then reconstruct it with different properties than what it was originally.

Whether or not this magic actually existed in the realm of Castus Malum, he had no idea. If not, he was willing to take something else as his prize. What he wanted was power. He glanced at his brother in evil, Lorenor, and shared a look with him that few would understand. It was a twisted smile of malevolence. Using what they acquired here, they would become more powerful than they had ever been before, and their plans for the plane of Althanas would be one step closer to being fulfilled.

A united alliance of evil would be almost unstoppable, and if they could somehow get over their differences and work together, the evils of the world would be nigh unstoppable. The Paladin awaited the response that their questions would get from Pride with a stoic patience he’d learned while training with the other Paladin. The answers would be interesting to hear, he was almost certain of it. Either way, this place would very likely become one of many places where the three men could come in safety, and learn things that only the blackest hearts could learn with no sense of remorse or dread. For in the halls of Castus Malum, there promised to be much that they could learn, and in doing so, step closer to their inevitable goal of becoming perfect embodiments of the evil that N’Jal represented.

[Aiko]

“The father's dead, he met with misfortune at the hands of my older brother, The Deadly Sin of Wrath. Somehow, I accidentally told him the man got me pregnant, and by a twist of fate, I had chosen the most cowardly demon in The Abyss to be a father. Wrath hates cowards, they just piss him off even more than anything else. So when the demon just cowered in the corner in abject terror, unable to speak or move, Wrath lost all control of himself and slaughtered him.” Calbrena replied to Lawrence, revealing a cold and calculating side.

“Anyway, to answer one question, and find the answer to another, we must press on. Why will be made abundantly clear in due time.” Pride said.

She stepped off the platform, and lead the way through a door made of Mythril. Beyond was a temple, and in the center was a giant solid gold statue of N'jal in her spider form. People were gathered about doing surprisingly mundane tasks, gathering water, fixing meals, training in this or that art, children were laughing, playing, generally being kids.

“So, who do you think is better, MetalDrago, or Lord Lorenor?” one kid could be heard asking another.

Pride pressed on without waiting to hear the other's reply. She stopped near the statue, and waited for the others to join her. People noticed the visitors, N'jal's favored servants were well known here. They gathered around, wondering if something was going to happen. Once the party had joined her, she turned and pointed at a pair of doors. One was marked “Lord Lorenor V'halkulus” the other was marked “MetalDrago Scorpio”.

“These doors have been marked such for a very long time, set aside by N'jal herself who declared that one day you two would come home to her. It was her wish that no one else would take these rooms, for it was her intent that you should have them, that you would always have a place by her side. Beyond those doors are palatial suites fit for kings. If they are not to your liking, we have servants handy who would be delighted to rearrange and redecorate to your tastes. This temple is N'jal's own section, where the young are raised according to her dark plans, thus why it seems a small village in here. Having no outside influence, they will be exceptionally resistant to the powers and efforts of N'jal's enemies when they finally reach adulthood and begin serving in more proactive ways. Meanwhile, I must consult a book.” Pride said.

While Pride dug out a book from a nearby bookshelf, Calbrena wandered over toward a door that was locked, sealed, and guarded by two devoted men in full plate mail Prevalida armor. Both had spears of the same material. They crossed their spears, barring entry. She wondered what lay beyond that door, that it was forbidden to enter, and guarded in such a manner. But she was Scion's apprentice, surely she would have the right to enter.

“Aha, as I thought. There is an orb, on a pedestal, filled with gray energies. It will give you the power you seek MetalDrago. But, where is it? Hidden beneath the eyes, I wonder could they mean that place?” Pride asked herself.

She beckoned for them to move on, and joined her sister by the locked door. The guards remained as determined as ever to keep everyone out. She put a hand on Calbrena's shoulder and spun her aside and faced the guards. She reached into her robes and withdrew a piece of paper she had hidden in her bosom. Upon seeing it, the guards bowed and moved aside.

“Beyond this door is a place known as The Caverns of Castus Malum. There, you will find an absence of rules, a dark wilderness untouched by light. Those who enter do not often return, for there are creatures there composed solely of pure evil. No thoughts of reason, no instincts of survival guide them. Only the need to devour and consume fills them. Us, each other, it matters little to them. Once we offered freedom to a group of heroes if they could bring back proof they had reached the place where the gods eternally gaze down upon the creatures that dwell there. They made it five feet beyond the door when something swooped down upon them and devoured them alive. I know not what it is, all I saw were a great multitude of mouths.

This is your one and only chance to turn back, for from each pair of jewels I will teleport us across the planes to our next destination, each pair of jewels guarded by a unique challenge. If you do go, no light will be permitted, for it will attract undue attention. Instead, I will gift you with the temporary ability to see in the dark as though it were lit by the afternoon sun.” Pride said.

She undid the locks and seals and pushed on the door. It opened with a groan, as though it despaired at the thought of allowing people to penetrate it. A great gust of wind rushed into the temple, carrying on it the cries of hundreds of waiting creatures and black feathers it ripped from Pride's wings.. A mighty rumble of thunder filled the air, coming from some distant point, causing silence to descend after it passed. A challenge of horrors awaited them, if they were brave enough to take it on. Calbrena snorted derisively, and crossed the threshold.

“It's going to take more than the howls of some weakling abominations and what was probably a distant rock slide to scare me. If that door was the point of no return, then I'm glad to have crossed it. Let's get this going.” Calbrena said, a note of fear betraying her show of courage.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Of course, Lorenor followed the woman Pride as she explained the matters dealing with Castus Malum. Listening to the various individuals that were speaking to one another in hushed whispers. Some were Spider-Magi, others served N'Jal in their own way. Some were young, others were old. It was a motley crew of individuals all working as one collective society. To Lorenor's eyes, the subtle details of the various statues and paintings on the walls seemed to practically move with magical energies. A feeling washed over the mutant. A strange feeling, one he had not felt since the first nights he woke up in the caverns of Haidia. Somehow, Lorenor kept thinking back to that time period as a derelict ghoul when life was a struggle.

Now, he had achieved considerable amounts of power. Several individuals were looking at Lorenor with a curious expression on their faces. They were also studying MetalDrago as well. Spotting the gazes, the mutant carefully observed nodded towards the individuals as they passed. Some young children ran up to the pair of servants of N'Jal and a few went to touch the infamous Aegis Bracer. They ran off when they completed that task giggling with joy. Lorenor could not help but grin at that. It was a wonderful sight to see, in his twisted heart, an entire society devoted to the glory of the dark lady. Lorenor understood where he was just then. Lorenor was within the bosom of N'Jal herself.

In the back of his mind, the mutant could hear the call of N'Jal as loudly as he had ever heard it. There was an orchestra in the back of his head as the nano-machine culture communicated with the mutant. Lorenor kept looking around as he observed each of the wonders within Castus Malum. There would be time to explore later on. We have a mission to complete. The mutant thought to himself as he studied the area around him. He looked carefully at the gates that would lead to the valley of death. When Pride unlocked the gate, Lorenor drew his prevalida sword. Looking at his fellows, he turned towards MetalDrago Scorpio and Lawrence Spades.

"Be on your guards."

He said carefully. Then, he proceeded to follow Calbrena as she entered the wild-lands of Castus Malum. In the back of his mind, N'Jal was singing in harmony with his thoughts casting a musical symphony in his skull. Lorenor kept his weapon at the ready and The Endless on call. As he walked, he extended his senses so that they were fully a mile in every direction. With that preparatory maneuver, the mutant swallowed his fear of the abominations and prepared.

A devil was coming home...

[Knave]

A life bred, born to die, it seemed fitting that it was a bastard, among all the other things wrong with it’s situation. Still, Lawrence nodded, his curiosity gone. He had revealed nothing. If anything at all the story of the child, and its father’s demise, emphasized the danger Lawrence was in. There was no love among them, nothing he could use, and he doubted camaraderie would ever afford him anything among the damned of Castus Malum.

Standing up, once again reaching his tremendous height, Lawrence redoubled his guard, eyes shifting, his pointed ears pricked. This was simply not his depth, he existed as a monster who walked the earth, the planar level of evil simply did not take to him as it did with the others. Still, he was daring enough to stay, when reason told him to go. Though certainly not daring enough to assume a more comfortable shape than his own. With each step his bones and joints tightened together, a numb sensation spreading through his back. Lawrence rolled his head, feeling the numerous vertebrae crack, bones shifting back into their places.

Proceeding into the court yard they passed through a temple, sparsely furnished, the only sign of worship was the statue of a demon made god, its form that of a spider rendered in gold. From its make, and the size of its mandibles, they knew respect for it. From the state of its surroundings, it showed that the damned did pray.

Following at a respectful distance, Lawrence watched his surroundings, examining the peripheral rather than turning his head this way and that while appearing to look straight forward. The heat that suffused Castus Mallum worked its way through Lawrence’s clothes, seeping under his skin. His lungs burned, his blood would often for a second pump violently, while he was less than pleased, his flesh was overjoyed. A drop of murky sweat leaked out onto the surface of Lawrence’s ebony cheek. It was swallowed instantly, and every pour closed, he would not lose control. Instead he focused on his surroundings.

He soon found himself interested in seeing how a demon god would rule, and determining if it was comparable to the divine and mighty. It was not. Where perfection would exist slaves toiled, and where there should be silence there were children. What did that say about their lord? Lawrence had once been told a Kebirarian Vhul-Ah who had removed the tongues of all his servants. And castrated them, both the men and women. So far, the discipline of Castus Mallum failed to impress. Interesting that humans should have more of the wicked amongst their ranks.

When the twin doors came into view along their tour of the infernal domain Lawrence witnessed them as proof that he was neither expected, nor directly welcome. Each bore the name of his new found associates, the letters cast into relief above them. By Pride’s exposition, they were fit for kings, and even angels would envy their splendor. A newcomer, Lawrence looked up at those high rising, and locked doors with the sense that he was no one in their presence. Perfect.

As Pride rifled through the pages of her book, and Calbrena wandered off to trifle with guards, Lawrence took a special interest in the statue. The great spider rose up supporting itself on its six legs, the first two poised to strike along side its massive fangs. On closer inspection there were golden filaments, needle thin hair along its legs. Its mouth hung open, and a wet fluid dribbled down it chin. Venom. Venom like Lawrence’s own.

So this was N’Jal, or at least how she saw herself. He stood before the statue, dwarfed by it, and blinded by the light reflected from it. It was ugly, but it was impressive nonetheless. If Lawrence would ever meet it what would he say? What would he do? Would he bow to another god?

Seeing the other moving on, missing all knowledge of the gray orb, Lawrence moved to rejoin them. He arrived in time to hear the description of their first venture out into the darkness. When Pride spoke of what lay behind those doors, she spoke of all the things a realm of planar evil was expected to be. These creatures wanted to consume. They wanted to destroy. They wanted to inflict, bind, shatter, and utterly annihilate anything that carried the breath of life. In truth, however, Lawrence could see little difference between the monsters outside the palace, and the monsters within.

“Open it.” Lawrence said, ready to do away with the haze of civility and wade into the beasts. He was a creature that hid in plain sight, but to be among his own kind was a disturbing experience. What monster cared for such sinister company?

With the rush of win the raw power of plane blasted through the doorway, whipping Lawrence’s hair, stealing the hat from his head and carrying it three inches before he could recover it. More annoyed than anything, Lawrence drew a fine come from his pocket and ran it through his hair, to set its slicked back, streamlined shape.

Catching one of Pride’s feathers he stuck it through the white band. “For luck,” he said, sparing the demoness a dry smile. Then, for the first time, he stepped through the breach. After Calbrena, his hunger for treasure demanding that he at least try to keep her alive. Or at least appear like it was one of his goals.

This was written between 10PM and 2AM and should not be used as an example of the authors abilities to understand how sentences are put together.

[Aiko]

permission to bunny MetalDrago given over PM

As MetalDrago stepped through the door, the last of the group to enter, the door shut behind them of its own accord with a single ominous clang. This place was dark, and had no light, but one didn't need Lorenor's heightened senses to know that there were things moving about in the darkness. There was sound, a sort of fleshy gurgling, as though something was feeding on something else, and it was awful close. Wind moved about them, bringing with it a sort of deep hollow moan, as though something ancient was in pain.

Light flared into being, white in color, born on the palm of Pride. Touching each member of the group, she gifted them with a temporary ability, empowering their sight to see in the blackest night as though it were the height of noon. With sight brought horror, as Calbrena yelped in fear and clung to her sister.

Creatures of a most horrid and monstrous form lurked everywhere. The nearest was a thing with the scales of a dragon, and the form of a dog, except instead of claws, it had tentacles, and its fangs dripped an acid most potent that scarred the floor wherever it touched. It had no eyes, but an extra large snout. By some small degree of luck, the wind did not carry their scents towards the creature. It was feeding on a pile of green meat on the ground, another more unfortunate victim of this place.

On the walls scurried bugs, billions of them, some small, one four times larger than an elephant. They were a variety of colors, and had spots on their back, but none no more than nine, save for the giant bug which had a hundred spots on its back. They looked like stag beetles. They all stopped, and the spots opened up to reveal themselves as eyes, green with red pupils, slitted like a cat's. Pride slapped a hand onto Calbrena's mouth, sensing a scream about to erupt. Fifty bugs seemed to center on the group, or the strange big nosed creature, it was hard for any to tell which, and the army of bugs began to crawl towards them.

Danger was present, but as the bugs approached, they became more clear to sight, and appeared to be like humans, except with the hard shelled back of a beetle. The pincers were on their forehead, and were accompanied by a smaller pair just around the mouth. They stood up on four legs upon reaching the floor, and bypassed the group in favor of the strange scaled monster.

The monster sniffed the air, and leaped to attack, but its victim turned its back, affording the creature no purchase for its fangs. Another bug gripped it from behind, and the fifty bug people gathered around, tearing it to pieces and eating it.

Lorenor, whose senses were the best, would sense a great horde of a variety of monsters inhabiting this place. He could also sense a variety of paths, but no treasure. The caverns were like one giant cave. At the edge of his senses to his left were giant perfectly formed tunnels, like what a worm might make, but these were bored through solid rock. At the edge of his senses to his right was the image of Draconus, spears jabbed into his belly. Around it were small spider Magi, but instead of Drow torsos, they had Draconian torsos. Not one of these creatures were over a foot high. They seemed to guard the image, as though it were important.

Pride noticed writing on the wall and pointed it out.

“How do you stop creatures that neither live, nor die? Not undeath, but something else entirely.”

“Behold the nightmares of Gods.”

Pride cleared her throat.

“Unsettling things to find carved into rock. I know not which way to go, only that the treasure lies where the eyes peer down upon the faithful. I have learned from my father that there is a place in here where the rock reflects the images of the gods of Althanas in various states of nightmarish torment. He mentioned that one slab in particular is known as the stone of relief, that it has the power to end one's nightmares, forever, but he never said where it was. So, any suggestions?” she asked.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Seeing the gift that Pride attempted to give them, the mutant politely refused her gift. "I need not sensory enhancements. I deal with my own problems you see..." Lorenor said casually to the girl. He liked her, he really did, but he just was not comfortable around light-sources. Arcane or otherwise. Lorenor's eyes narrowed as he studied the environment around him. The insectoids were feeding on another creature that was previously eating something else. In the first few moments of his journey within Castus Malum, Lorenor learned a great deal. An energy flowed in the very air of that realm, it was tangible and quite potent. The air itself crackled with the saturation that only N'Jal herself could provide.

Lorenor extended a hand to touch the wind for a moment or two. As he suspected the very energy of Castus Malum was a fell aura. Able to taste the energy in his mouth, the substance felt like a living organism. Craving the bosom of the creature, Lorenor listened intently to everything that Pride revealed. It was apparent that she was as clueless as the rest of them were. Clenching the handle of the weapon tightly, the mutant knew they would have to be well armed. He walked over to Calbrena. Removing his prized Prevalida dagger, the mutant handed the legendary weapon in her general direction. He loaned her the scabbard as well.

"Take it. Consider it a loan." Lorenor said. "I expect that back when we find your key."

Lorenor turned to analyze Lawrence Spade. The man also wore basic-level equipment. The mutant walked over towards the fellow.

"When the shit starts, I want you to stay close to me. I will be guarding you and Calbrena. I figure that is our best chance, if we all work together." Lorenor said. Then he turned to Pride. "I suggest we make our way towards that statue of Draconus. There might be a clue somewhere around that thing. If we have to defeat those creatures, I shall see to it that it is done." Looking at Pride, the mutant decided that it was time to take control of an otherwise dangerous situation. Lorenor was used to having a leadership position anyway.

The mutant took a position flanking Calbrena and Lawrence. He would protect his newly discovered companions with his life. Somehow, the mutant knew that Calbrena and Pride, and their Father, were connected to N'Jal intimately. After this quest there would be a great deal to learn about N'Jal from them that would no longer be guess-work. Lorenor kept his sword positioned in a low center of gravity. He was ready to swing it at a moment's notice. Muscles knotted, intent clear, Lorenor would only move when Pride and Calbrena gave they word to.

"I suggest we try to discover all of these statues. It is my hunch that there will be clues to our objectives there." He pointed in the general direction of the statue of Draconus. "As your word Calbrena and Pride." Lorenor said. Though he was used to dealing with leadership situations, the mutant was also used to following orders. He did not kid himself, he knew Calbrena and Pride were in charged of their little squad...

[Knave]

On the other side, Lawrence saw nothing.

An empty expanse that operated in shades of darkness rather than light, a landscape devoid of color or apparent definition. Ears pricked, Lawrence heard the breath of his comrades. Senses sharp, he felt the humid wind, wet and warm against his face. The air was alive. The air alone could swallow them. Moaning bellows, the flutter of wings, any sense of safety laughable. Lawrence remained... unmoved, which he managed with ease.

Taking a deep breath, Lawrence put his feet shoulder's length apart, and folded his hands behind his back, an image of readiness to conceal the utter loss he felt as to what he should do. React. It was the only option of the blind, and while he remained still every wiry muscle across his tall frame bunched for a vicious, brutal retaliation. When the hand touched his face, its size too small to be anything less than female, and too warm to be anything less than infernal, the shape shifter knew who it was, and still knew no peace of mind. Thin lips drew back over his teeth, he smiled, even when he was about to bite.

As the hand drew down his cheek, light blossomed into vision, and the world was made clear to him in grim silhouettes, dim colors, and the very inhabitants themselves. A Fallian parable came to mind.

Two philosophers went out into the wild; one, then another. The first returned, and after seeing the heart of nature, he cried, “They eat each other!” and called it evil. The second, upon his return, and after seeing just the same, cried, “They feed each other!” and called it good. Against the gravity of this situation, against the raw brutality of one beast ripping a broken limb from another's socket, Lawrence was sure the second philosopher was insane.

Mister Spades maintained his military position on the matter. At ease, both guarded, and ready, his sword near and completely unseen. Golden eyes wandered this new vista, and he saw all that was set before him. Those eyes widened. Besuited, he loosened his tie, a land mark event for(if) anyone knew him at all. What had he seen? Why, the walls were moving with insects, and nothing in this world craved anything more or less than meat for their hunger. At the sights, Calbrena screamed in a shamefully girlish fashion for a demon princess.

They flowed past, eager for a meal that was either more hapless or more worthy than the group that had entered into their lair. Streaming, they swept over the wretched animal. They crippled it, snipping away at bones and tendons. They fed on it, pealing back its scales, ripping away its meat to crawl inside. Evil creature that it was, the greater beast died a pathetic death, screaming even as it was cut to pieces, watching as its limbs were now carried by others.

Focused on, bewildered by, the sight, Lawrence was brought back to his group by his compatriot, the ghoul. When the thing wandered near, Lawrence watched it, and when it spoke, Lawrence listened, smiled, nodded. “If you want to protect us, by all means, I'll stay close.” And behind, if Lorenor wanted to be his shield, then Lawrence would be glad to use him.

Their guide, the woman who had put the light back into his eyes, spoke up, asking a question Mister Spades visibly bristled at. She asked for suggestions on which way they should proceed. Pride as their guide had brought them here without knowing where to go. Lawrence withheld his words, the irritation he felt would strike the moment he opened his mouth. When he looked at her, it was with a deep and narrowed irritation. Just short of- just shy of raw anger at this stupidity.

Finally, he dropped two careful cents of his own. “Of all of us, you should know.”

Thankfully, Lorenor, provided some answer, one which Lawrence was not too sure of, but was more willing to accept than nothing. “Statues with clues to our destination, traps, and monsters surround them no doubt.” Lawrence said, looking off into the direction Lorenor indicated. “I'll live regardless, show us the way, Lorenor.”

[MetalDrago]

The area was dangerous, that much was certain. However, it was nothing the Dragonian hadn’t come up against before. His orchid colored eyes beheld the realm within with little sympathy. He smiled slightly and kept his hand on his Dragon’s Betrayal. He could smell the stench of broken and decaying bodies, but also that of something much more. A sigh escaped his lips as he looked around. This was not going to be one of the easier things he’d ever done. His hand flew to the Nocturne of Madness at his side, the weapon of last resort. He did not use that particular weapon very often, considering the fact that it brought forth the strongest part of his psychopathic side, his bloodlust.

Quickly, his right hand unsheathed the Dragon’s Betrayal, his signature weapon. The black and red serrated blade seemed to glow in the preternatural darkness. The Paladin smiled to himself, his orchid eyes glowing slightly as he surveyed the area. He served N’Jal, and nothing in this place of evil would be able to harm him or any other that passed the gate under Her divine protection. The attacking creatures around him held little interests, and the stone carving on Draconus held even less. However, if these carvings held some clues as to where they should continue their search, he would not begrudge them that.

MetalDrago smirked slightly. “If I had to hazard a guess, this place changes all the time.” His scholarly side was taking over as he continued to walk slowly after Lorenor. “The embodiment of living discord and chaos, the Lady N’Jal, made this place. She is not only the one true incarnation of the living dark. She embodies change and an ever growing turmoil. If this wilderness is anything like Her, it changes with the passage of time. It might rearrange itself once a day, every other day, every week, or every year.” His grin grew even wider as he thought about it.

The Dark Dragonian was a living embodiment of N’Jal’s power on Althanas, much the same as the Mutant Ghoul Lorenor. He had yet to gain any mastery of the myriad powers the Dark Thayne commanded, but he was trying to learn. The more he learned about her through the lore of Althanas and of Castus Malum, the more he felt connected to her. He could feel her laughter in the back of his mind as this thought. He had to smile, himself. The more he understood about the dark forces, the more he began to understand how little he actually knew about the world of shadow, intrigue, and madness. He had much to learn, and an eternity to learn it.

“Pride…” he said, his voice dropping to a mid-low whisper, “Is my guess right or wrong?” He wasn’t expecting to get it exactly right, but he knew that his guess was at least partly right, or else she would know exactly where they were and how to get there. His eyes searched through the darkness for her face as he waited for his answer. The woman had proven herself most knowledgeable about Castus Malum, and he hoped to learn so much more from her as time passed. She might have been the Deadly Sin of Pride, but more than her sinful form, she could prove to be a great asset to his learning of the Realm of Darkness.

[Aiko]

“MetalDrago is correct, Lawrence. The changes are random as to when they happen, and when they do, the types of changes are completely unpredictable. For instance, this giant thirty foot image of N'jal in her Spider-Magi form wasn't on the walls five minutes ago.” Pride said, gesturing at an image that had faded into being on the walls next to them.

Almost as if speaking about the subject of change caused it to happen, the plane began to shift. Walls broke apart with a roll of thunder, revealing what all had heard earlier when the doors first opened. Rocks moved and rolled about them as the ground shifted and trembled beneath them. Creatures of a variety of descriptions from small and cute to large and terrifyingly ugly ran about in a panic, trying to avoid being trapped. Pride simply snapped her wings and put up a shield about them. Finally, everything stopped shifting. They were surrounded by debris in every direction, save for one direction. Pride shot a ball of green and gold fire down it, and shortly, it returned. Blood began running down the walls from those who could not escape the changes.

"To confirm what Lore can sense, this path leads to the statue. Please, let us not take the chance that speaking of change causes it to happen."


“Well, to change the subject, and put that sudden change behind us, also so that everyone's prepared, what exactly will I go through while I'm pregnant?” Calbrena asked.

As they moved towards the statue of Draconus down the narrow tunnel, Pride threw an arm and Calbrena. Looking towards the ceiling, she appeared to be lost in thought for a minute or two. Finally, she cleared her throat and looked back ahead.

“Well, you'll suffer nauseating cramps on a daily basis, and as you progress, discover it more and more impossible to find any sort of comfort, making you extremely grouchy and unpleasant to be around. Within a day or two, you'll begin to experience violent mood swings, and on multiple occasions, you'll attack us with little to no provocation at all in an effort to defend your baby. Demonesses are extremely protective of their young, even when their not born. You won't get sick, thankfully, but you will be excessively bitchy, in addition to the whole part about you being extremely grouchy and unpleasant. Out of all races, Demons are one of the worst to be around when their pregnant. That's why most tend to isolate themselves. You however, are lucky. As the sin of Corruption, your powers will naturally protect your baby from two substances that will make you far more pleasant than you ordinarily would be. Cigarettes, and alcohol. This of course means, you can continue to drink and smoke regularly to master the basic corrupting power of addiction without your baby being hurt.” Pride said.

“WHAT! I've been craving a smoke for three days, THREE DAYS, and you didn't tell me until now? I didn't even bring any with me thinking I had to quite for the entire period of my pregnancy. What kind of a sister are you, to let your baby sister suffer?. You cruel uncaring bitch of a whore monger!” Calbrena shouted at Pride.

“I see the bitchiness has started early. Here, your favorite brand, Brimstone.” Pride said.

Calbrena snatched the pack from her sister's hand, and eagerly took one out as they exited the tunnel of debris into the main cavern once more. Striking a finger against a rock, her finger lit on fire. Lighting her cigarette, she shook her hand, putting out the flames, and leaned against something soft and squishy as she took her first drag in three days. She visibly relaxed as relief flooded her body. Slowly, she became aware of what she was leaning on, and quickly stood up and turned around to find a draconian spider-magi glaring at her angrily.

It chittered at her angrily, while jumping up and down, unable to communicate effectively. It wasn't the only one, there were hundreds of them, all chittering angrily, many of them jumping up and down, they had reached the statue. One of them grew extraordinarily still. It was blue, unlike all the green ones around it. Slowly, it began to grow larger, the spear it was holding growing with it. Despite only being half the size of a normal spider-magi, it attack, and continued to grow. Calbrena caught the incoming spear, and threw the abomination towards MetalDrago and Lawence Spades, so that they could deal with the monster. They were better equipped after all.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

When the fight started, Lorenor moved slightly to the side. He was aware of how Spider Magi operated from previous encounters with them. Furthermore, he was a Spider Magi himself. Lorenor kept his sword in hand, holding the hilt of the weapon tightly. He quickly moved his second hand to the hilt holding the weapon with both arms. Shifting his body weight to a more defensive stance, he prepared his best speed to get towards Lawrence Spades and MetalDrago Scorpio. However, something else happened. Lorenor pondered striking the growing Spider Magi, but another thought hit him. The little ones were not attacking. Only the large one had charged. A trap? Lorenor turned towards MetalDrago Scorpio quickly and issued a command.

"MetalDrago, take care of the big one, I'll get the swarm! Keep Calbrena alive!"

Then, Lorenor threw himself to the swarm. Used to pain after lifetimes of training in The Citadel, Lorenor began to savagely slash at the smaller Spider Magi. At the calling of N'Jal herself, Lorenor knew it was meant to be that he struck against his ken. These individuals, were Spider Magi that were not educated by N'Jal, and thus, a thread to the order. Slashing powerfully in the general direction of the smaller Spider Magi, Lorenor waited until he felt the familiar vibration of power flowing through his arm. A moment later, energy coursed up and down his arm, from scapula, to fingertips.

When the device was prepared, Lorenor willed the activation of his Plasma Discharge Gun, which raised of its own accord from the special container unit in the Aegis Bracer. Capable of launching a powerful bolt of discharged kinetic energy, the mutant aimed it at the group of waiting Spider Magi. After a moment or two, he took advanced and launched the powerful blast of kinetic energy. Equivalent to a plynt sword strike, the energy was launched at its full rain, in a bolt-form towards the opposition forces. With the energy crackling through the air, Lorenor launched the blast so it would travel the full 12 yard, 36-foot distance towards the last possible target.

As he launched the kinetic blast, the mutant moved forward. An ominous sound as of a thousand war drums, filled the air from where the kinetic bolt was discharged. Lorenor yelled out a war-cry even as he saw several Spider-Magi fly off into the distance from the rest of the horde. Lorenor had injured many, but many remained. Rushing at full speed, seventy-miles-per-hour, Lorenor burned blood pool to access a greater movement capacity. He suddenly became a blur, accessing his Celerity at level one. With that movement capacity, Lorenor rushed towards the swarm of Spider Magi. He figured he had the best chance to defeat them all, to the last man.

As Lorenor ran, he swung his prevalida sword in powerful arching movements.
One side, to the next, sometimes in circular movements, in attempts to hack at everything around him. Lornor ran towards the statue the entire time that he was slicing things to pieces. When he cut through the group of the younger Spider-Magi, he found himself in front of the statue of Lord Draconus. Lorenor slid himself to a halt, he could feel his body slow-down significantly. However, in the long-run, that slow-down would not make much of a difference. Preparing his weapon, the mutant was harnessing the power of his Obsidian Ring. He turned to see the amount of carnage he had caused in his mad dash...

With any luck, MetalDrago and Pride could protect Lawrence Spades and Calbrena from the larger Spider Magi. Lorenor was preparing more power for the next round of attacks...

[Knave]

Elemental divinity etched itself into walls, arachnophobia was justified in those who stood before the fanged edifice of this goddess.

Lawrence, however, had seen worse, been swallowed by worse, digested in the stomach of worse, and been remade by worse, than the surface of what he now saw. Seeing horror from the inside allowed for all new vistas, each special in its own horrible nature. Through experiences never thought of, and memories naturally suppressed, he understand just how many strange and terrible things the universe had to offer. He had lost a good deal of sensitivity to the matter. Trauma of the existential variety could do that.

From his arrival, he had felt something familiar and alien, and now with the stink of death in the air, soaring beast in the sky, and monstrous insects on the ground, he had ceased to be impressed. Now, even as the image of evil pressed its way between the second and third dimensions, he simply grimaced at the sight.

Once coexisting, the image and the stone it was mounted upon fought for their space. The image of godhood violently forcing the earth aside. Stone, now evicted from its place in the universe, fell in showers of dust, rock, and boulder. Prehensile wings extended to shield Lawrence and his company, and crushing earth fell around them, shunted to the side in a fog of grit and filth.

Impacts rocked this hells floor. All lights failed. The chattering of fauna and the rustle of unseen flora continued through out. Lawrence stood with his arms folded, disturbed, spooked, struggling for precious control. He could not stop his surroundings from seeking his destruction, and so he was afraid, as all sane people would be. The air soon emptied of debris.

Senses running wild, Lawrence's golden eyes visibly dilated, his ears picked up the sounds of hearts beating, hundreds of them. Green light burned in the corner of his widened vision. Pride lit the way with an extended hand, her powers over the infernal providing precious light. Of all the places the mind could wander, sometimes reality was the strangest of them all.

“Interesting. Was there any point to that?” Lawrence said, constantly reevaluating his situation, needing to talk, and hear reason in the air. “Or does your goddess normally wander about in that fashion?” He asked. Why can't deities stay in man's imagination? He wondered. That was where they could do the most good, but no, they had to meddle and cause tro- something clicked, the thought died as Mr. Spades realized someone forcefully dear was listening.

Of all the roads that had been, only one way lay open, and the demoness sent her illuminating flames down it. The path was made clear, like a falling match in an empty well. There was just the way, infinity and blood leaking from new walls. Trapped life obviously still struggling within them.

Not that the girls seemed to care about that goddess they praised raining death from above.

Back and forth. Lawrence watched the exchange between demons and realized that they were little more than children, playfully bickering. He had met teenage girls, been teenage girls, and knew the subtle and explicit cliches well enough to recognize their character. Had he liked them when he had seen them? As sure as he was male and for that exact same reason, but all he could think of was his situation, and his future.

As a learning experience, quite a lot, actually. Notes were made stone in memory of just what a demon would go through as a mother to be. Who knew, perhaps Lawrence would be a father. Or perhaps he would have to acquire a child. Still the importance of the topic was questionable at the moment, at least until the sisters began to argue a bit more than they had continuously been doing so far. This is likely how Calbrena found out about her period. Questionable intelligence aside, he gained a better understanding of who he was dealing with by Calbrena's antics.

If he were anyone else at the moment, he might have laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Instead he listened to the hissing of tongues, and watched spittle fly from furred mandibles.

It appeared Lorenor had family, though of the more stunted and arguably hideous variety. “I don't suppose you could talk us out of this?” Lawrence asked Lorenor, his unwillingness to assume battle position easily credited to his wish not to antagonize the semi-naked spider people who in what appeared to be great numbers made their nest in a realm of natural malevolence. He'd have negotiated himself, if he only understood what these runt spider thugs were saying.

However, it seemed that Pride either didn't care, or was simply unaware of just who, or what, she used for a post to lean on while she smoked. It looked just as shocked as Law felt, and just as annoyed by these strange antics as Law was too.

In the darkness, a lit cigarette failed to cover the stench of the unwashed and unclean, and when Pride realized just what she had set herself against, she gave it little consideration. Apparently, the spider runts were not her problem.

A singular blue one of the pack heaved and raged. Babbling, frothing, it got bigger, rendering its tunic a tight shirt. It grew from tiny to tall, and the spear once too large to be anything but a walking stick was now quite appropriate for a rotisserie barbecue spit.

Now face to crotch, and eye to eye with the monster on scale, Pride did what no one in the canyon of rubble expected. When the creature lunged to spear her through, she in turn sent it flying toward Lawrence and Drago. Bitch.

Thankfully, with keen senses, and a good judgment of character, Lawrence was able to react and back away as the creature was lifted from the ground. Turned from monster to missile, it came flying.

It wailed frightfully, itself afraid as the ground blurred, and the air whipped passed it. Now clearly out of the way, Lawrence watched the creatures approach, threw out a groping hand, and paid little attention to its departure as it exited what light there was, possibly more interested in his finger nails. The dark man stared at his palm, and the glistening faceted red eye he held there. In the darkness the creature screamed.

Uuuaaaarrrr-aaaaahhhaageruahhaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!

Gazing into the spider magi's eye, Lawrence wore a tight expression. At last something he knew, some act he could perform without listening to religious dogma, or feminine chatter. Sadly it was nothing simple, and nothing civil.

There will be no rehearsals, the best I can do is prepare.

No time to be picky about how he did it, Lawrence tipped his palm to his lips. The eye slipped past teeth, riding his tongue out of sight, optic nerves bundled in ripped cords trailed behind it. The organ made a strange bulge in the shape-shifter's throat, one that sank back in a second later. Drawing a handkerchief from his pockets, he wiped his lips, clearly the act did not appeal, and the taste was sub-par.

“I suppose this why I am hear.” Lawrence turned away from his comrades, and walked after the larger spider magi who would no doubt soon be looking for him to the best of its now impaired abilities. His shape dissolved, and in the darkness he was little more than a clear silhouette. “Drago, watch the girls. I need a break.”

================================================== ==================

A warrior, it's blue fists had never released its spear, yet it was weeping.

Blood ran down its cheeks, the blue spider-demon's nostrils flared, the scent of its enemies everywhere, and the pain radiating from its empty left socket blinding it. A sound to its left. Feet! A barbarian, it acted instantly swinging its spear. A great wind was kicked up by the strength of its attack. Rocks lifted from the ground in the wake of the shafts swing, but the blow hit nothing, but empty air.

A rock came from nowhere to thud against the blue spider-magi's temple, and even as it reached to defend itself, the sound of clattering rocks hit the ground. Head clearing, the sound was familiar. What was unfamiliar was the laughter. A dull, “O-ho! O-hoho!” echoed from one direction straight ahead. More rocks followed, small, irritating, aimed for its gaping socket. Its flinching decreased, its jaws opened, and it screamed a challenge, barking its courage, its skill, its victories, and its foes horrible death! It would hack off its extremities!Those it could not wear, it would eat!

It exploded from its knees forward into the air, both hands on its spear. In darkness, half-blind it fought half-blind. Doubtless its opponent could see no better, it obviously not being plain born. The Champion's Spear thrust through laughter, and crushed ghosts. Phantoms danced around its senses. Wherever the signs it could track were, they were never enough to pin the thing down. They were close, though. Its spear nicked floating hair. Hands brushed its arms. Critical, mocking words were left handing in the air to its left and right.

In a duel to the death, it was a dance of tantalizing chances, and seemingly utter futility.

Frustration mounted, its jaws opened and luminous caustic fog lit the darkness in a grey jet. The light flared for an instant, it gnashed its teeth, sparks flew, and the luminescent gas turned to fire. A wave of flames scorching the earth, but soon fading with nothing around to burn.

Beyond the glare, it watched for movement and found it. Waving lines, wisps of darkness retreating. The giant magi pursued, another insult to be had at being shown its opponents back. Again it breathed and the air burned, but when the corona vanished, so too did all traces. A sudden weight settled against its shoulders, back to back they were. A piece of silver bit into the magi's left leg, thrusting to the bone.

This time retribution was swift. It lashed out fast enough to strike the invisible, lift it off its feet, and send it tumbling, bouncing over rocks. The sword glinted in the light of it's traitorous kins canon blast, a quivering eggshell white that vanished with a blink and was replaced by a gush of blood. It patted its quickly healing wound, aware of magic, but unsure of what kind, or how to stop it.

Rubble shifted, dirt fell from outlined shoulders. The laughter was done, and a sensation hit the magi that made silent promises. Without seeing each other, at a distance, they looked into each others eyes. No hatred, just murder, a will to kill and a similar sense of hurt pride.

Hope for honorable combat ended when the magi rushed forward only to find that the unseen creature had not changed tactics for the better, now a blade whistled through the air. In an instant, a combination would occur, and neither one knew the outcome.

The blue magi thrust, shattering stalagmites and columns of stone when they grew close. Its strength was still growing, and its size by nature gave it courage. It swept its spear to the side, and met with resistance, steel on tempered wood and the vibrations of the sword running the length of the magi's spear to sheer away its fingers.

Instinct took hold, the magi's hands drew back, it stepped to the side, surprised that in size they were similar, and could fight on par when one of them was not hiding. The parry incomplete, the magi finished it by bringing the shaft of the spear over, entire body twisting to smash this creature aside through its very guard. Blood and sweat flew from the magi's face.

Offering no resistance, the dark man's weapon went limp. The blade folded under the spear, and with it, the shade slipped underneath, hastily dodging the weight of the blow and the brain addling strike itself. The magi fully wound, its ears picking up the sound of small labored breaths, it thrust with the fist of its martial style, and connected for a brief instant. The image of its foe flickered, unamused, its palm intercepting the t blow. The nerves of the magi's arm exploded, and the weight alone instantly became the fist's force, and was subsequently deflected outward.

The dark man vanished into his invisibility an instant later, retreating with the blue magi in pursuit. Clouds were raised by their feet, again the magi was certain it saw its opponents back, and this time it struck to kill, the reach of its spear more than enough to run it through and later roast it. Grinning, triumphant... it missed.

The dust had risen too high to tell where the dark man had gone, and spider magi was winded. No critical blow had been struck beyond the loss of its eye, and that too would grow back in time. Spear ready, defense up, it waited at its ease for its heart to stop its incessant pounding.

Pain exploded in its leg, and the back of its thigh. Tendons and all were snatched away along with what may have been bone. Screaming, again it was dropped to the ground. The dark man had circled under his own camouflage, and through the magi's guard had been able carve off a bit of the abominations inner thigh and groin.

“Even cooked, I doubt you'd taste any better.” The thing said, its language incomprehensible, but the sound of teeth and ripping flesh was unmistakable. For some reason it imagined dainty bites.

Afraid, finally afraid, it grunted and cried for help. No attack finished it before seven more little spider-magi could arrive, a flying column summoned from the masses at war with their powerful cousin. Concern for him was evident, they clustered around their champion, he was strong, feeder, protector. Their concern for themselves was soon made apparent when a body to the left collapsed, and a head fell. The head's jaws moved, it screamed silently, its glowing eyes going dim.

It was among them, chaos was among them, creeping. It was a blade in empty space that sheered tiny limbs from tiny bodies. Shots in the dark that struck them down, and pounded them until they were still. They were dispatched, and cast aside, none ever seeing what hit them. At times, one of them would clasp its throat and shake violently until its neck broke and was still. There was no courage or romance to the slaughter. Just the method.

The larger of them bled freely, and struggling to contain its lifeblood, attempted to crawl away, to climb into the rubble and hide. Honor was for the honorable, and this thing had none in it. The sooner it healed, the sooner it could return. Crawling, it left its comrades bodies.

A foot found the small of the blue magi's back. Resting there, its weight pushed the semi-naked mutant to the ground. Crippled, wounded in flesh and pride, it lashed out again. Turning its torso, it swung its fist back, powerful muscles still filled with life. A hand, a claw, settled on its shoulder, its muscles spasmed, out of control, their strength lost and all sensation gone. Its screams now endless continued, the champion bent its neck to see if its arm was still there, only for a sword to pin its other shoulder to the dirt.

This close, it could be seen clearlly. In shape they were not so different, even as it lowered itself to the warriors back, and hot breath passed over its neck. The ululations of confusion ended, and Lawrence settled in for a meal.

Some minutes since its swift beating, one of the ordinary tribesmen awoke, and fearing for its life grabbed a slab of rock to hide behind and defend itself. It made the sound of terrified mice and confused men.

When no blow came it peaked into the darkness, and heard the sounds of heavy breathing and strangled cries. It approached, and heard, and slowly it saw what had hit it, what had killed its family, and was gorging itself on its brother. It wore a strange, obviously formal garb, but there was a wild disarray to its hair and state of dress. What was also wild was the ape-like way it acted.

It sat on it's champion rump, and bending the Champion's leg back was biting. The invisible now apparent, and back to the magi, our little spider magi saw the illusion of a chance, and then saw that illusion die.

In that scraggly mess of hair, a faceted red eye stared from the back of its head. It never blinked, but the light was on within it, and from the leg the creature turned its sizzling lips. “I am eating.” Tone conveyed severity, and all creatures in nature knew that meal time was sacred.

The magi screamed its challenge, reason lost to hatred and fear. It lept forward, its arc high, its strength brought to bear. It would have revenge and glory.

A swift blow turned its jaws to mush, and left it hanging in the air. Both it and the world were spinning as it crashed back down.

Lawrence returned to his meal, his shape bulging as his legs visibly thinned in the legs of his pants and a great weight rose through his torso into his arms. The shape shifters hands expanded, in the darkness he was a thing wildy tearing and eating. What blood that fell on him was sucked through his clothes, his skin feeding by osmosis. A grim silhoute of flailing and destructive limbs twisting, and ripping meat from bones.

================================================== ============================================

Standing, Law let the leg fall, and walked back to the battle Lorenor had engaged himself in with the majority of their assailants. First he would find where his hat had fallen between here and there, and then he would see to the needs of the others.

Behind him, the warrior groaned, holes opened in its back, and teeth marks where its meatier parts had once been. New poisons coursed its burning veins, the cuts lined with toxins.

Undefeated, it stared after that thing. Bubbles of blue blood flecked its lips, and its lone mandible flexed to give its words the proper pronunciation. It began to chant, and continued to grow. The wounds failed to heal, scars and deformities remained to tell tales of its mauling. Just a few minutes, an hour at most, and it would be on its feet again.

When Lawrence returned, he was once again in order, clothes arranged, hat in hand, and a comb running through his hair. He was heavier though. He carried himself with greater weight, and the gravity of his situation he now took with levity. He entered into hellish lights clearing, champion's spear in hand, the blue taint of blood spattering the corner of his left pocket's kerchief.

Sometimes, he simply couldn't bare being above it all, and exercising some control did wonders to restore the safety of sanity.

Was that control? Well, he had emasculated and evicerated something that clearly deserved it, and had made it very, very clear it didn't want it.

'Yes, that was control.'

[MetalDrago]

Protection detail… How boring… The Dragonian’s thoughts were tinged with a bit of resentment at being left out of fighting the largest of the Spider Magi. Lorenor was taking care of most of the swarm, but it was inevitable that some of them would make it through in order to get after Calbrena and Pride. He tensed his muscles slightly and drew the Dragon’s Betrayal. The black serrated edge of the blade glistened slightly in the darkness. He could feel his bloodlust, an insatiable hunger for battle, filling his veins, but he couldn’t let himself be overcome by it. He still had people to protect, much to his annoyance.

He looked around and saw the Spider Magi crawling over the stone floor. He relaxed his grip on his sword and his entire body began to feel loose and free. He glanced around and smiled. These small ones would be no problem for him at all. He was sure of it. He swung his sword one time and cleaved through a good five of the little creatures. He was about to start laughing when he felt that this wasn’t going to be quite as easy as he thought. N’Jal was telling him to be careful, to hold back until something happened. He acquiesced to her orders and held back and he slowly and methodically killed all of the creatures that came near Calbrena and Pride. Blood from the blue giant spider splashed out and landed on his armor as Lawrence killed it, on his right leg. He certainly is a violent one… I find myself in very good company today.

Then, he realized why he had been told to hold back. Within the shadows from which the smaller Spider Magi were swarming, he saw a small glimmer of red. The smaller Magi parted, their legs making excited clicking noises on the ground and they did. It sounded almost as though they were doing some ceremonious song, signaling that something really bad was coming. A red Spider Magi slowly crawled out of the shadows and stood before MetalDrago. His eyes never left those of the beast before him as it walked up to him. It stopped less than a foot away from the Paladin, causing him to pull back visually. He smirked and stepped back a few paces. The stench of the creature was overpowering.

The Dragon’s Betrayal hummed in his hands, crying out for the flesh of his enemy, and the Paladin was more than happy to oblige. His eyes darkened to a blue-violet as he lashed out with his blade, biting into the flesh of the Spider Magi standing before him. It screamed in agony as the blade cut into its flesh. It clacked its mandibles and reached forward with a clawed hand, attempting to cut into the flesh of the Paladin. However, it found little purchase against the Endless Armor that covered his flesh. He withdrew his blade and leapt backward, a sadistic smile on his face. A small chuckle escaped his lips as the dark power of his bloodlust began to overtake his soul.

The Spider Magi seemed to sense that there was more to the being before it than it had first thought. The dark power radiating from within his soul was far too familiar to it. However, he had attacked it, and thus he must pay. The creature screamed in reckless abandon and launched itself at him, raking its claws across his armor, trying desperately to find some weakness in the armor. The creature’s claws, while strong, could find no gainful purchase on the armor. Without a weapon, this contest would be over quickly.

The Paladin looked on as the Magi drew a wicked looking, curved scimitar from seemingly nowhere. It was then that he knew the truth. This was only the beginning.

[Aiko]

As the onslaught began after throwing the blue one, Calbrena flicked her lit cigarette at the one she had leaned against, but it skittered out of the way. No longer encumbered, she laid into the swarm of creatures with her claws, discovering that the small ones were shredded as easily as dried parchment. Clearly their strength was in numbers. She never noticed new ones forming from the spilled blood of the old ones.

Yet, Pride just stood there, putting her hands together as though in prayer. Her head bowed and fires burned into being around her, one fire for each color of the spectrum. Calbrena wondered what her sister was up to, but couldn't spare much thought to it, as her attention was taken from the subject by a group of attackers from behind.

Pride's strategy became somewhat clearer after the ghostly image of The Deadly Sin of Wrath appeared before Pride, and shot into her in a bolt of light, taking the fires with it. The Sigil of Wrath, which was also known as The Seal of Death appeared on Pride's forehead, as her muscles rippled and bulged, both increasing her strength and making her skin as hard as granite. Her wings merged together and transformed into a tattered shredded cloak.

“Now then, take me now, for my Demonic Emulation is complete, and I have taken on the primary aspects of Wrath.” Pride growled in a typical deep and gravely male demonic voice.

In answer, a yellow spider Magi as big as the red and blue dropped from the ceiling. This one was different in more than just color, insanity burned in its eyes, as its teeth clenched in a blood thirst none of its fellows could match. Its growls brought the swarm to a halt, as they looked at the yellow, then at Lorenor and the others, then back at the yellow one. Ducking their heads, they crawled away towards Lorenor and Lawrence like dogs who had just been chastised by their master, preferring uncertain victory over certain death from their yellow cousin.

Pride struck first, wasting little time and going straight for the kill, intending to rip the beast's heart straight out of its chest. Yellow blocked with his right arm and grabbed Pride's hands with his left. Pride displayed her flexibility, and from her standing position, kicked Yellow in the jaw with her right foot. The blow caused Yellow to let go as he stumbled backwards.

Calbrena, who was watching, decided that this battle was too much for her sister alone, even emulating Wrath's primary aspects with her magic. She leaped upon the creature's back and started biting him with her teeth, but his skin would not give easily beneath her furious attack. Yellow reached around and grabbed her, throwing her at Pride who caught her and then dropped her on her backside unceremoniously.

Yellow came charging back and leaped into the air. Calbrena scrambled out of the way, but Pride merely backed up a step and did another high kick, sending Yellow onto his back. But Yellow wasn't about to be defeated, with a kick of his eight spider legs, he threw himself back onto his feet, bringing a powerhouse of a right handed punch straight at Pride. This one caught her and sent her flying back into a pack of greens, squishing them to death with the force of her landing.

Calbrena, now back on her feet, held her sore back as she charged back in, determined to give her sister time to recover. Instead of going up, she went down, attacking his legs, trying to hamper his movement. It was Calbrena who scored first blood, as she raked through one of his legs. Yellow screamed in agony, a sound which sent a collective shudder down the spines of the swarm of green ones, even Red seemed nervous about Yellow. Yellow reached down, and grabbed Calbrena's tail. He swung her around his head once and released sending her flying into a wall with enough force to crack it with the impact. Calbrena slid down the wall and slumped over unconscious.

“NO ONE HARMS MY DAUGHTER AND LIVES!” Pride bellowed in a fury that echoed across the caverns.

In response, Yellow moved over to a pair of outlying greens, and killed them for their spears. Energy shot down his arms into the spears, joining them into a single spear made entirely of Delyn. The blood from the dead greens flowed into Yellow, visibly hardening his entire body. If what Pride said was true, then this battle was already decided, for few creatures fought as hard as a mother protecting her young, regardless of species.

Green fire flowed up Pride's arm, the fires of Althanas, and all the planet contained within. A titanium warhammer formed from it, finding her grasp. She flew at Yellow, her feet barely seeming to touch the ground at the speed she moved. She swung her hammer straight for the midsection, cracking every scale on his chest, and breaking several bones with the impact. Yellow keened in pain and grabbed a green, stuffing it in his mouth and eating it, restoring his bodily health. Not yet finished, before Pride could start another swing, he stabbed for her chest, but she dropped the hammer to move aside.

Pride spun as she moved sending a wave of purple fire containing the powers of the sky at Yellow, from this fire came a storm of lightning bolts. Yellow used his own powers and reflected them back at Pride. Pride in turn absorbed her magic back into her body, and sent it back out again as a magnetic impulse to grab her hammer and send it flying at Yellow. Yellow took the hit in his left shoulder, with his right he hurled his spear at Pride.

Pride caught the spear in her right shoulder as she tried to dodge it. She ripped it out of her shoulder, too far gone into rage to care about the pain. She hurled it back, Red fire, containing all the powers of every normal fire, circled the weapon, super-heating it white hot. Yellow tried to dodge, but it not only hit the right shoulder, due to the intense heat, it went straight through, suturing the wound closed behind it. Yellow began to run from Pride as she chased him down snorting fire at him with each step. What terrified him most was that she was running on all fours snarling like a dog, she was even foaming at the mouth.

Luck was on his side, he crawled up the wall, and she could not follow. There was one thing he could do to win, and sate his bloodthirst. He could awaken, IT. IT was apart of him, no, he was apart of IT, they all were. IT slept now, the mind divided among the many. But was victory worth the price? Of course, what a silly question to think of, Victory was worth any price, even individuality.

Yellow let out a bellowing roar that was echoed and repeated by every living creature in the cavern, save for the adventurers. Then, everything stopped momentarily, pausing as the eyes of everything that had eyes began to glow, understanding filtered across a mind that had not existed as a single thing for centuries.

All the greens attacked as a single entity, obviously sharing a hive-mind that could direct all of them at once. Pride, who had been working up a powerful spell to heal Calbrena instead had to divert the energies into her favorite attack spell, sending Ice Shards at the swarm of greens surrounding her. To her surprise, the blood slithered away into cracks in the floor.

Yellow jumped down, and the spider body exploded into a shower of blood, revealing the lower half of a Draconian. This blood also shot towards cracks in the walls, floor and ceiling and disappeared. All monster blood would, save for stains on clothing. Yellow cracked his neck, and then charged Pride, who was still in shock at seeing the transformation. Luckily, Wrath's instincts were with her in this emulation, and these protected her, grabbing Yellow's right foot and twisting it. Yellow went with the twist, bringing his left around kicking Pride in the head making her let go. Blood seeped out of the floor after he landing nearby, healing Yellow's shoulders.

Pride shook herself back to attention, and saw Yellow getting healed. She was tired of this dance, and it was time to end it. She charged Yellow, bringing a knee to the head, but Yellow rolled out of the way and quickly got to his feet. He spun quickly, using his tail as an attack to trip Pride. She hit the floor with a grunt, but swung her legs around to trip Yellow.

Both stood up, and faced each other. Green fire mixed with Purple fire in Pride's hands. Her hammer levitated behind Yellow's back, and began shaping itself into a spear. Meanwhile, Pride traded blows with Yellow, dodging and weaving using the small portion of Wrath's complete knowledge of the Martial Arts that she had access to. The spear flew at Yellow's backside, and Pride, who knew it was coming, let Yellow hit her in the chest and fell with the blow. She smiled in satisfaction as the spear punched through Yellow's heart. Yellow's eyes widened in surprise, then he smiled in satisfaction.

He fell to his knees, then backwards with the weight of the spear. He melted into a pool of blood which drained away into the floor. Pride heaved a sigh of relief and ended the emulation, banishing her hammer. She was simply Pride once more. She touched Calbrena, and closed her eyes.

“Oh thank goodness. She's just broken every bone in her body, yet mother and child live. I give you the last of my power natural power.” She said to herself and anyone listening.

She leaned in close, and kissed Calbrena's forehead, energy flooding the pregnant woman's body. With a groan, she awoke to find Pride asleep with her head in her lap. She looked around trying to focus and gather her wits enough to figure out what happened.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Slicing the head off of a green spider-magi, the mutant maneuvered his way towards the statue of Lord Draconus. Someone hear has to use his brain to survive this Thayne-awful mess we're in right now. Still holding his sword, Lorenor largely ignored the battle. His glowing purple eyes studied the dark around him, none of the predators walked towards his general direction and he was free to investigate the statue of Lord Draconus. During the battle, the larger Spider Magi broke away from the main attack group. Feeling eyes upon his person, the mutant could detect the hungry stares of his cousins.

However, he could also detect something was off. Staring at the various symbols that were etched upon the majestic statue of Lord Draconus in death throes, this appearled to The High Priest. Satisfied at what he saw, the mutant analyzed all aspects of the statue as he searched for clews. To his annoyance, the statue ended up as a complete waste of time. Lorenor had no knowledge about the teachings of Lord Draconus. Thus, the symbols were unknown to the mutant.

One thing was common about the symbols however, each of them glowed with a mysterious power that cast light into the dark. This light was subtle and did not harm the mutant at all. Instead, Lorenor could detect the magical properties of the light and felt the distinct urge to step closer to the steel Draconus. Lorenor felt a presence flowing from the statue that tingled with power. N'Jal revealed that something lurked within the statue that Lorenor needed. Expanding his senses to the fullest capacity, the mutant searched the statue carefully for any anomalies he could take advantage of. Seeing that he could not draw anything useful from the statue, annoyance became frustration.

This mission is largely going sour. But it is by the will of N'Jal that I am here, and so it shall be. Listening to The Word of N'Jal, Lorenor allowed his eyes to travel across the expanse of the statue. His eyes caught what most overlooked. So he concentrated on the statue feeling that demonic pull towards the statue growing more and more potent. Allowing his eyes to freely wander across the length of the statue. Studying, the mutant allowed his vision to switch across the normal spectrum of light to other spetrums of light. Studying more, he ignored the cries of battle in the background. Lorenor had done his part to keep the swarm in check.

The mutant had felled many of the smaller green units that formed the bulk of the insect-swarm. He'd somehow managed to avoid an assault by the larger of The Spider Magi. Blue, Yellow, and Red were busily attacking the members of his failed Adventure Party. Lorenor only respected MetalDrago Scorpio and Lawrence Spades, both seemed capable of handling their own affairs. So Lorenor could focus on the mission at hand. As Lorenor studied the statue, he felt the mysterious power originating from the head of the statue. Having no respect for Lord Draconus, Lorenor climbed atop the base of the statue and worked his way up the expanse.

Reaching the upper body of the statue, Lorenor dug his claws into the steel, using The Aegis Bracer in order to stab into the raw slab of steel. Lorenor would be able to hang on to the statue indefinitely like that. Using his powerful muscles, Lorenor felt his tricep and bicep muscles bulging from the hanging movement. Stretching his arm so that he could move upwards Lorenor stared at his target. In the name of N'Jal, I shall finish what my brothers of yesteryear have started against you! Swinging his precious Prevalida sword upwards, the mutant easily sliced through the neck of the statue and the head flopped down on the floor in front of the pair.

A powerful crunching sound resonated from the impact. Lorenor grinned at the fact that he had disrespected Lord Draconus. Castus Mallum, however, was N'Jal's house. Feeling something moving about the statue's head as it rolled to a dead stop, Lorenor jumped down from the statue. Still ignoring the battle, the mutant walked over towards the statue's head after sheathing his weapon. The object was in the head's mouth. Lorenor took The Aegis Bracer, summoned his full strength and struck the head of Lord Draconus with a vile intent. Another powerful crunching noise traveled through the air as a loud crack was heard. Within the rubble of the statue, Lorenor saw a single amulet that radiated with power.

Filtering through the debris, Lorenor clutched his hand around an ancient chain. Pulling the necklace out of the rubble, Lorenor felt a tremendous weight of pure power flowing through his arm. The amulet itself possessed a certain variant of rubies that radiated a powerful electromagnetic field. This energy type cast a halo about the amulet that shone brilliantly. Lorenor had to shield his eyes for a moment or two in order to get used to the harsh lighting that the amulet gave off. There were also symbols etched upon the surface of the ruby, as well as the chain itself. These symbols were symbols that only a fully trained Spider Magi could identify. As a High Priest, Lorenor knew how to locate the symbols. The mutant pocketed the amulet and decided he would research its purpose later.

Deciding that he would start a mission to pick off the remainder of the large Spider Magi, Lorenor prepared to move forward in the nearest one's general direction. As Lorenor walked towards the nearest of the larger Spider Magi, the mutant felt tremendous power flowing from the amulet he'd just discovered. When Lorenor walked forward, he felt something just outside of the edge of his sensory grid, some ancient presence. He wasn't certain he felt it, so he ignored it for the time being. He was eager to return to the rest of the group after deciding that picking off The Spider Magi would wait until later. Lorenor walked towards Calbrena and Pride seeing that they were largely okay. He took up defensive positions. He'd felt a tremendous power flowing from the general direction of the presence he'd felt moments earlier. Is that the next target goal? Lorenor knelt down towards Pride and Calbrena.

"I took care of that swarm for you. Also, the statue was a dead end, but I think I know the general direction we have to keep pressing on. Pride, can you and Calbrena stand? We must keep moving. This place is too dangerous to lower your guard even for a moment."

Lorenor turned away from Calbrena and Pride, knowing he never had to directly stare at them. Instead, he focused his attention on MetalDrago Scorpio to see if there was any help that his Captain needed...

[Knave]

Who will win? Who will die?

They came no higher than three feet tall, nightmarish pastiches of man and beast where the eight legs and thorax of some enormous arachnid supported the torso of a slavering monster. Collectively, they were hideous with skeletal bodies, and mandibles that split their cheek leaving rivulets of saliva to run down their chests. In their eyes, those glowing, faceted eyes, they saw the impossible.

The shape-shifter, now materialized from the darkness, stood atop a small hill surrounded by a great number of green draconic spider-magi, naked savages. It was an obelisk, imposing itself onto the world. Standing well above the spider-magi, by hill and height, the shape-shifter introduced into them fear with all his power. What was he?

In his left hand, he held the massive spear of their leader. The blood of the corpses at his feet, and the blood of the mighty Blue hung in the air around him. What could they do against him?

In his right hand, he clutched the head of their comrade, who thrashed violently every minute or so, her muscles spastic and her limbs contorting. The spider-magi’s face was moving, its eyes open, its expressions painful to see. While she writhed in pain, they could sense no soul, and watched her body suffer in death. What kind of pain could it inflict?

In its eyes, there was a contagious sanity. Golden discs on black orbs that dilated to see the world — this horrible world — with clarity. A third eye, red, faceted, one of their own surfaced from his skin and wandered across the shining black surface of his skin, monitoring, and sweeping them. There was no sense of emotion; they were devoid of all familiar things as hatred and hunger. They flitted about the clearing of rubble and destruction… observing. In their hearts, they asked questions. What could they do to survive?

Occasionally, it would down at the spider-magi when it came too close, the spear clasped in its fist coming down to form a rift between the eyes and nose. Another of their men fell, his legs twitching, his eyes moving, his torso still as blood began to flow from his face. Every time one of them died, it would glance at each of them and form a connection to impart into their minds and souls the stark reality in which they were small.

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Lawrence killed another one with a swing of his new spear, making no excessive motions, moving with greatest speed he could. While he watched the battles of others, missing nothing, he took the trouble of installing himself as the utter personification of death. Law had no idea of the proper use of a spear, and so used it as a long stick with which he killed instantly with singled handed strokes. The bodies, testament to his knowledge, were dismembered, battered, and cut randomly, leaving an inner circle of the dead to tell their gruesome story.

Through presentation, Lawrence held twenty-two of the spider-magi, through fear he stole their strength, through deception he had concealed the nature of his powers. The spider-magi he clutched in his fist had died several minutes ago, but with pulses of electricity unseen, he had reanimated her with electric life, and repeatedly continued to shock the body to awe to those who observed him. While his eyes were not limited to gazing down on his flock of enemies — how like sheep they were; so docile without direction — he spent much of his time staring down at each of them, collapsing their will with subtle twitches of his face and eyes to register a incredible confidence.

They never saw the way his right hand burned, the scar tissue of an old wound causing the surrounding flesh to ache as he held forty pounds inches from the floor. They never saw his distaste at the saliva and blood that spattered his pants legs, the filth that stained his shoes, the stink that emanated from everything so much as to make him suspect that his lungs would forever harbor the gummy wretched taste the air held.

He wished he could speak their language… why were they fighting? There had been no insult to warrant war, and they had nothing to offer the wretched things that equated to this much death. When Lawrence assessed the situation, he saw a host of enemies without end, weaklings, and strong ones. He saw Lorenor break through the crowd, exiting the mayhem with ease, that strange little monster. He saw MetalDrago at odds with his own foe, red magi of impressive size. He saw Pride and watched her screaming, watched her rabid, watched her in all her power, and wondered, ’If she can do all of this, why are the rest of us here?’ Never mind that she claimed her sister for a daughter — or perhaps the child for her own, demons could never be trusted to keep to the laws of their anatomy, or any law at all.

The yellow ascended the rubble canyon, the claws of its eight legs scrabbling to find purchase to aid its retreat. Ascending, it found an overhanging rock by which to gaze down upon them all. It let loose a sound that to Lawrence was a battle cry of total war. The attention Lawrence had worked so hard to garner was stolen as every eye turned to the Yellow spider-magi as it beat its chest, and spread its madness through their minds. Every eye burned, red light intensifying, as one, they turned to the summit of the hill, as one, they saw nothing.

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The left of the circle of death a spider-magi felt itself lifted by a swift kick. The blow flew up into its thorax, just beneath its torso and belly, presumably, where vital or reproductive organs remained. Airborne, it flew. Earthbound, it crashed to the ground among its peers. A force pushed against the circle, even as they rushed the fill it. Limbs exploded without cause in a shower of bright red blood. Holes pierced them where blades would be. Undeterred, the fear forgotten, a wild abandon filling their once cold blood with heat, they rushed with courage into a strange whirling chaos of shapes and uncertainty.

The face, snout and mandible, of the spider-magi directly before the charge caved in as the shapeless thing met it, doubling back and over as the weight rode the magi’s face and chest to the ground. Folded as he was, the magi’s spine shattered, and his abdomen exploded outwards behind him. Skull crushed, body broken, he never knew what hit him, and as his body liquefied, he never would.

From all sides, a radius struggled to be maintained as the walking shade beat them back as if they were rabid dogs. They slipped through the danger of distance with their numbers, only to taste Black Mesa’s blade, a peculiar flavor of pain. Those who were fortunate were fortunate enough to attack, they spears into the blurred space, and they tangled in legs and bit. Whatever it was, this thing they knew as Death, it could bleed. By the lights of their eyes, they saw opportunity.

The skull of a comrade deformed the dent of the spears shaft there between her bulging eyes. The urchin, gnawing at something it could not see, never realized that its body was no longer there to support it, and within seconds his head fell to the ground. Lawrence was outnumbered, unmotivated by much else, but his survival instincts, he had one advantage. They could not defend themselves. Blind to his strikes, he killed them freely as he would anything else.

By luck, and time, he exhausted their numbers and began to kill them again at his own pace, laying hands on them, strangling, crushing and killing. Their credit, as their numbers died out, not one of the spider-magi fled, by bravery and insanity they fought until the end.

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With everything that had been set against him now dead, Lawrence returned to the group for lack of any better place to go. He was a mess, the blood of many and his own spattering his suit, a limp in his walk due to the holes that had been placed in his legs. The extent of the damage? Torn sinews, second and third layers of flash exposed along his shins, a twisted ankle, and broken nose from when one of the spider-magi in their battle lust and euphoria had decided it could jump high enough to almost fly. All would be repaired, as surely as he could change his form he could repair it.

Shrugging of the jacket he looked at the filth that stained it, and then threw it aside as hopeless, washing might have worked, but he never wore the same clothes twice to begin with. No idea where his hat was, Lawrence ran a hand through his hair, drawing it back, and continued to do so, unsure when to stop without a mirror. He kept the spear at his side, but banished his sword to where it would be least expected.

He arrived as Lorenor departed, and in the distance saw Drago still battling the Red spider-magi. The idea of walking into another battle was nearly ludicrous. While Lorenor, the strongest of them all, had ventured to and atop the statue to deface it, Lawrence had been fighting constantly with everything, everything, he had. Coming to lean against a rock opposite of Calbrena, the shape-shifter sank into a sitting position, his mauled legs outspread. Eyes closed, he began to close the holes, and seal the arteries. From the center of his forehead, the red eye of the Blue spider-magi stared at Calbrena.

“Care to explain why she’s calling you her daughter?” Up until now, he had never spoken to her, and his voice came off as rough. For what he was doing, he deserved answers.