Eternal Goodbye

[Dissinger]

“The say every thief knows the face of the one who will kill him. It is when the thief is calmest that you know he will die…”
Darith Shagath – Guild Master of the Lavinya Thief’s Guild

“Didn’t you realize I lost all ambition? I have no drive, no sense of purpose. I have no true goals anymore, other than my death.”
Seth Dahlios – Angels and Demons

Closed to Letho, Cyrus the Virus, Liliana Ambria, and Lavinian Pride

Any and all bunnying approved.

[Dissinger]

One down one to go...

Don't get cocky boy, focus and fight, The stern voice of General Karel Dahlios, the soul imprisoned within the changeling amulet cautioned. The artifact was resting upon the wrist of Seth's right arm, in the shape of a gold wristband, upon which was inscribed the symbol of a lizard. The general had taken Seth under his tutelage and had been focusing his disoriented mind, efficiently honing what had originally been a sloppy technique.

Rain poured down in the area as blood was washed from the daggers. Seth's eyes burned with anger as he nodded softly acknowledging the sage words. Liliana was in a scuffle with a third one, and since he had finally dropped one of the bastards he had to bite down on the pride. They had been ambushed on their way traveling through Revan. The road was dark and that was part of the problem. Seth was getting the sinking feeling that this was deliberate. However, they had to endure this before they could make it to the first checkpoint and rest stop. They were less than an hour away, and if they could at least break away, they could make it.

As he swung the dagger the knife blade cut easily through the neck of the adversary. As he grinned at the killing blow he waited for the inevitable drop, letting out a satisfied grunt as the man began to grip his neck. The rain continued to pour over the area, leaving puddles of red water on the path. The nearby trees were dead, and it was apparent that the rain would more than likely not help the dead land. Still he turned to check on Liliana, who seemed to be having problems with her own adversary.

Her sword had been tossed in the mud and she was wielding the staff of darkness now as she brought it around and under the man's chin. As he stumbled backwards Seth joined in as he brought a kick around, only to stop cold when he saw the first true taste of their adversaries. The man quickly caught the kick before he swung Seth around like a rag doll and threw him across the path. Slipping and sliding through the mud he came to a halt as he coughed the water of the road having been thrown up his nose and into his mouth.

Groaning as he hacked and spit the dirty water out, he watched as the men he had presumed dead slowly got up shrugging off their fatal wounds. Groaning as he struggled to get up Liliana offered the explanation as she thrust her had forward her face contorted in righteous fury, "ORT!"

Immediately one of the men was sent reeling as steam erupted from his body. Seth and Liliana locked eyes before one of the men rushed at the priestess. Seth drew a lung popper as he threw it with all his force trying to cripple the man at the knee. As he watched the kunai fly he slowly tried to get up before both super men were upon him. Trying desperately a strong kick to his ribs winded him as he growled lowly in frustration. Coughing he soon heard Liliana gasp as Seth looked up sharply.

"Drop your weapons Dahlios or your little friend dies here and now," The voice commanded and said nothing. As Seth looked he saw the man was holding Liliana by the neck, and with the slightest bit of pressure, could more than likely pop her skull from her spine instantly killing her. As the two strange men smiled at the Lavinian Demon, Seth rose up to his feet, clearly holding up his daggers, before he let them go. Both blades stuck into the muddy ground as he reached down and carefully undid his dagger belt, before he let it to fall from his waist.

"Smart decision, now, you have an appointment with Cardenas, be a good boy and follow us," The man said firmly.

"Put her down first, or I'll slaughter every last one of you," Seth said his anger showing in his voice.

Careful Dahlios, Cardenas' men are not people to be-

I don't care if they are mob flunkies or god damn fairies, I will tear them apart if they don't drop Liliana.

The man grinned; finally revealing who he truly was, long canines, made for biting could be seen as the nature of the vampires before him was revealed. The man turned with Liliana still in his hand as he said, "If I don't put her down? My, you certainly are the brash one Lord Cardenas said. If you don't come with us she will die, it’s that simple."

Liliana whimpered as she gripped the hand at her throat, trying to keep herself calm and hiding the animalistic fear of being choked to death from taking her. Seth looked her in the eyes before he sagged, defeated. He couldn't afford her to be put under anymore stress. As he closed his eyes he said softly, "I'll come."

"What was that? I didn't quite hear you," The vampire said.

"I said I'll go with you damnit! Let her go, please!" Seth shouted. The vampires grinned as they walked up; one roughly bringing his hands behind him before bone colored clamps were placed around his hands. He was shoved towards the leader as he set Liliana down next to him. Seth merely looked her I the eyes as she nodded and hugged him tightly. Unable to return the gesture he only tried to reassure her as he looked at the vampire expectantly.

"Let’s go, if you resist at all during the trip, her blood rests on your hands, and we will not hesitate to drain her dry to satisfy our thirst," The leader said. One of the men shoved Seth forward as he closed his eyes. Moving beside Liliana he could not hear anything but her soft apologies. He only remained silent as they were moved far off the trade route between Otaria and Lavinya. They would now be forever lost to the rest of the world, as the vampires now had him squarely in their lands.

It was said the vampires jealously guarded what they considered their property.

Alright you guys can make your introduction anyway you want, my only request is that you end up captured some how at the end of it.

[Cyrus the virus]

It had been six days since the eyes of Luc Kraus had observed civilization. He'd fled to the forests of Raiaera, knowing that it was necessary for him to overcome the fluffy, easy life he'd accustomed himself to. Even in this short time, Luc had learned to use his magic in a more controlled, stable way. Cooking meat slowly below a mind-controlled flame took a great deal of concentration, even for a small creature, and even before hand he had to use menial methods to skin and clean the prey. He was becoming a rather self-reliant hunter, especially compared to the man he'd been.

The mage wasn't even concerned with the disheveled hair and clothing, both of which he'd often lost hours keeping neat. In fact, his brown hair now grew past his eyes, and hadn't been trimmed in months. Ever since the meeting with Coartez and the melting of frozen Corone, Luc had tilted his focus in favor of becoming a more well-rounded man in terms of skill. Being a powerful magic-user was one thing, but when you were incapable of even the most basic practices a man needed to know, you couldn't be respected.

The sun was low, yet crept through the leaves of the forest to peer at the rushing river. Luc was levitating above the waters, gazing upstream to where the river eventually disappeared through the trees, a rare beard hugging his chin. The clearing was calm and serene, uninhabited by all but he and nature. He'd never felt so sober.

A deep, calming breath passed through his body, as Luc removed his cape and gloves, tossing them passively to the grass at the bank of the river. He exhaled and closed his eyes, pushing both hands forward and finding his focus. Then, an invisible force shot from him, pushing his hair back and hitting the water, as if a large cement block had fallen into the center of the river. The water rushed around it.

He then let loose a primal scream, opening his eyes and bending forward as if he was physically trying to move a great barrel. The invisible force became green in tint, as wind rushed forward to meet the rushing aqua. In a mere instant, the river below him was shallow and calm, as Luc battled the waters ahead as they tried to push past the powerful current of wind.

But one could not halt a river, regardless of how determined or skilled they may be. The water kept coming, and soon there was no room to remain behind the wind, and the river flowed around it, pouring over the grass and the dirt. Luc ended his struggle, allowing the river to flow powerfully and vigorously once again. In truth, he was surprised to have been able to do what he did.

"Impressive show," commended a voice from his left. Luc had noticed him earlier, but hadn't said anything.

Now, the mage turned and floated effortlessly back to land, where he landed nimbly against the soft turf. The voice's owner was a man quite taller, darker and wider than him. Most of his face was hidden by the cascading darkess of his cloak's hood, but Luc could see whisps of long grey hair and a chiseled chin. The mage also smelled the faint hint of musk, though what type, he did not know.

"What's your name?" The mysterious man asked of him, for Luc had casually gone about putting his cape and gloves back on without paying him any attention. When it didn't look like the mage was going to answer, the man opened his mouth to continue.

Luc interrupted him. "Call me mage. Everyone seems to," he replied, the sour taste of his tone saying more about him than his words ever could.

"Do people often get that opportunity, out here in the far woods? Fine, I shall call you what you wish. Tell me, mage, do you ever wish you had a medium to showcase your skills? An arena?"

The geomancer chuckled. "Like the Citadel? Like the Gisela, Serenti, Magus Cup and LCC tournaments?"

"No, mage. Something just a bit different."

"I'm not interested."

With that, Luc began to make his way toward the treeline, though he could hear the scuttling steps of the man behind him.

"There are special details you might want to hear about," said the man, as he pulled back his hood to reveal the face behind it. "Details that may sway your decision."

Luc turned, laid eyes upon the man, and slowly nodded.

[Letho]

“Come on, you oak! Don’t be such a party pooper!” Myrhia insisted, standing above Letho’s lying form and tugging on one of his arms. Attired in a vibrant yellow maillot a bit large for her scrawny physique, the redhead was a vision even if she insisted on breaking his dormancy in the shade of the pine trees. Her hair was raised, arranged in a curly tress that kept it from getting soaked in the sea water. It also left her alabaster neck and shoulders completely revealed, thus qualifying itself for one of the favorite hairdos that she wore. Even though his vampiric senses were long gone – and good riddance to them – and Letho couldn’t smell the aroma of her skin right now, he knew that it smelled the same way it tasted for several days now; like the sea in which she liked to swim for hours.

“No, go away.” he responded, his rejection lacking all the strictness that used to be his hallmark. One of his eyes popped open, struggled with the almost-white summer sun that pierced the canopy made out of tiny pine needles, and then finally met the smiling emerald eyes of his beloved. “If gods wanted us to...”

“If gods wanted us to swim, they would’ve given us flippers and gills. Yes, I know.” she jumped in, cut him off and finished the sentence he repeated like a parrot in situations such as this one. “But it’s fun anyways.”

“It is for you.” Letho wanted to say, and even though he didn’t utter those words, she could read it in his sour face. It wasn’t that Letho didn’t know how to swim. She knew full well that when it came to swimming, the Corone Marshal was as good at it as he was at... well, pretty much anything that involved physical work. It was the concept that he disliked, that and the endless deep blue that would appear beneath him once he swam away from the shore. There was little that frightened the grumpy warrior nowadays, but that shade of blue, so cold, so treacherous... He didn’t trust it and he didn’t want anything to do with it.

And yet, for over three days now he was forced to face the blue on daily basis. The sea that unfurled beyond the shores of the Corone’s Tylmerande barony was the very destination Myrhia chose for their vacation. The playful lass loved the sea for some obscure reason, loved to gaze at it, loved to swim in it, loved to run through the shoals and gather seashells and all the peculiarities that the waves washed ashore. At the azure shores it wasn’t the sun that shone, it wasn’t the sea that glittered, it wasn’t the nature that was magnificent. It was her face that shone, her eyes that glittered, her spirit that soared. Letho couldn’t deny her that joy, not even if she didn’t break the stick that was for so long stuck far up his... spine. He limited himself to dozing in the shades though, or at least tried to. But after a while she always came to beg him to join her. And so far she never failed to change his mind. It didn’t seem that it would be different today.

The bulky swordsman reluctantly allowed her to lift him in a sitting position. Around them, the secluded cove was quiet, with only the sloshing of the waves and the southern wind whistling through the needled trees. It was cool in the shade, even though the shadows were far from untouched by the sunbeams, but beyond the line of trees the sandy beach emanated heat. “It’s just past noon. The sun is the strongest now.”

“Come on. No excuses. The water will cool us off.” Myrhia refused to give up, still holding on to his hand and tempting him with another smile. When it didn’t work, she gave him a kiss, short and sweet and salty from the sea. When he wanted to prolong it, she broke it off and let go of his hand, scampering away with a giggle. “Uh-uh. If you want more, you’ll have to get off your lazy ass and into the water.” Letho still hesitated, smirking. Myrhia frowned, her hands on her narrow hips, but it was all a game. “And if you don’t get in the water, you’ll be kissing sand for the rest of the week.”

That was an ultimatum that he couldn’t go against. And he probably wouldn’t go against it if half-a-dozen figures didn’t appear from the forest. Appear seemed to be the right word for it because the six almost materialized from the shade, clad in dark-grey with hoods hiding their faces effectively. Myrhia recoiled at the sight of them, a minute shiver passing over her diminutive body, turning it into gooseflesh. She dashed back at his side, but by then Letho’s hand already found the hilt of the adamantine bastard sword. Vacation or no vacation, with or without his pants on, Letho Ravenheart was never far from his sword.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Ser Ravenheart. We have a drop on you.” one of the figures spoke, motioning his gloved hand towards three others that appeared behind the scantly clad pair with what looked like throwing stars in their hands.

“Yeah, well, you’re not me.” the Corone Marshal responded, repositioning himself to enable himself to keep an eye on all nine. “What do you sorry lot want? I’ll have you know that I am Marshal...”

“Yes, I know full well who you are, Ser Ravenheart and what rank you hold in the Corone Rangers.” the same gray figure spoke, undistinguishable from his comrades by anything save the voice. “I have come here to make you an offer...”

“Let me guess? Which I can’t refuse?” Letho retorted with a spiteful question.

“Preciselly.” the figure said huskily. And before either he or Myrha had a time to react, the two shurikens whistled through the salty air, striking the redhead in the arm and Letho in the chest. Though neither were mortal wounds, the tiny girl fell into the sand as if the projectile struck her heart. Letho’s metabolism fought with it for several seconds longer, allowing him to lift his sword and make a step towards the robed figures, before his world went black as well.

[Liliana Ambria]

Liliana sighed as they continued their trek through the wilderness. It was quite obvious why the people of Lavinya never came off the trade routes. There was literally no reason to. Not even a single weed grew in the dead lands they walked. The trees were gnarled and twisted, as if crying out at the agony of their slow and torturous deaths from the land. Still she stayed close to Seth, who seemed to be radiating confidence, and self loathing. The cloak he had worn about himself since he had killed his parents, the familiar aura of him the only thing she could take solace in as she felt the cold presences of their undead captors.

Her hands unconsciously were doing soothing sweeps over her belly as she knew nothing else to do. Seth was bound with what looked like bone shackles more than likely designed to keep him in check, they were in the middle of Reven and unable to escape due to their three guard escort. Still she tried to keep her head aloft in the turmoil as she whispered softly, “Seth, are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” Was the gruff reply. She understood the sentiment the need to appear strong when he was in yet another whirlwind of trouble. This was the same Seth that had rescued her from bandits all those years ago. It was a comforting sight to see him slowly returning from the brink of self destruction.

As she moved closer to him her hand gently wrapped around his waist as she whispered, “You aren’t hurt?”

He smirked as he said softly, “Not a scratch. Don’t worry about it.”

She nodded thoughtfully as they continued their trek into the badlands. As they reached the edge of a ruined village she heard the guards talking amongst themselves in an older language, one she didn’t recognize. Finally when it was over they said, “We are all staying in the houses here until sundown. I would suggest you don’t try to escape now, you are so deep, I doubt you could find the road anyways.”

Liliana resigned herself to fate with a soft sigh as she asked, “Can Seth have his shackles removed? I promise he won’t do anything.”

“What good is a priestess’ word to us? For all I know it could be the end of us, you catch us asleep, and we all die. No, the shackles remain on, figure your own way around them,” The vampire said before he gestured to a hut, “That is your sleeping arrangement. Get a good day’s sleep; you’ll be meeting Lord Cardenas tomorrow.”

Moving to the hut with Seth, Liliana sighed before she moved into the hut with Seth. Once inside Seth turned around and faced her before she hugged him tightly relishing the warmth and scent of Seth. She felt his lips kiss her cheek as he whispered softly, “I’m sorry, I was useless.”

Soon her lips overlaid his own as she pushed him against a wall of the hut forcefully. The flimsy material of the wood buckling slightly but not cracking from the act before she pulled back and whispered, “You did what you had to do. You made a good decision now shut up. I haven’t waited almost a year to be with you to listen to you bitch.”

Seth laughed at the display before he kissed her back softly and whispered, “Well, seems I’ve rubbed off on you. Perhaps I should give you the daggers and take the robes?”

Liliana laughed before a playful slap came on his chest and she whispered, “Careful there, you might have to give up being a smart ass you do that.”

“Gods know that won’t happen,” Seth said with a smirk.

“We’ll have to see about that.”

(One more post from me and all the players are set.)

[Lavinian Pride]

Dirt flew up into the air as Sarah brought her arms around in a sweep. The knife in her hand coming to a halt as her opponent blocked the swing with his sword before brining it back around to slice her. As she arched back the blade only got air before she brought her feet up in a surprise blow below the attacker’s chin. Landing in a crouched position she watched her opponent stumble back a few steps, her eyes warily watching. As he held his sword out, she knew the inevitable outcome.

“I have to kill you, no offense but my life hangs on this!” The man said as he tried to swing the sword. Sarah only dropped her blade grabbing a handful of dust and tossing it into the young man’s eyes. As he cried out his blade dropped, and Sarah sprung like a trap. As she sprung with unholy vigor she tapped into her budding vampiric powers and began the fatal dance’s conclusion. A knife to the heart she quickly grabbed the boy by his face as he looked confused into her eyes.

She hated this part of the show, the look of betrayal in the dying boy’s eyes as she was forced to kill yet again before the bloodthirsty crowds. The result was always the same. The look of how they had gone wrong, of the desire to redo things they failed at. She made it swift as possible and with a quick twist snapped the young man’s neck. She then bit hungrily into the man’s tender flesh, before she greedily sucked the blood, much to the adoration of the crowd. She didn’t care, she knew what the boy’s true outcome would have been, and considered it a mercy killing.

Slaking her thirst on the boy’s body she let it drop to the ground kicking up a bit more dust as she felt the minor cuts and wounds close up on her skin, the blood feeding her as she felt her urges go to a distant portion of her mind, never truly satisfied, yet never in a position to control. Her gaze looking down at the boy before she whispered softly, “I envy you, you’re free…”

Moving to leave the arena she could feel the burning glare of Lord Cardenas upon her back. She was against orders again, always finishing off her opponents. He would not be happy, and she frankly stopped caring when she realized she was just a puppet in his game. As she moved she heard his voice soft and seductive, yet powerful and dangerous, “Why?”

It was the same game they always played, the circle of questions before the inevitable truth came out. Sarah merely went into the locker room and sat ready to take her punishment, “Why what?”

“You know what. Don’t play coy with me. Lord Mizami may tolerate such disobedience, but I am far more stern.”

“To the point today,” Sarah remarked coolly as she laced her boots fighting them before she realized how far the game had gone. She had spoken out of turn, and now she would pay for her bravery. With a jerk her head was brought up to face him, his hand clenching brown locks. Her eyes bored into by the dead grey ones of Lord Cardenas’ own, fueled by hatred as ancient as the land they resided in.

“Your life is mine; you would do well to remember that thrall.”His eyes bored into hers, as he tried once more to intimidate. Sarah merely remained steadfast under the hateful gaze before he slammed her head back against the wall bringing pain and a ringing to her ears. Clutching her forehead he spoke sternly, “Next time you kill one of my gladiators, I will take every ounce of blood you drained them for, from your veins. I will not allow such disobedience under my roof. The crowd may love it, but I will not tolerate it anymore.”

She groaned softly in pain as she felt to slender hands wrap around her waist. As she tried to open her eyes she heard a soft whisper to remain still before she felt her body being shifted. Sarah only nodded softly as she groaned, her fire put out in the one clinical strike. He had proven he could do as he intended, and had effectively cut off any sassy remark she could have countered with.

As she moved to her cell she was laid out on the cot before she put her hand on the back of her head and groaned softly feeling the spike of pain. Brining the hand to her lips she licked it before she groaned, she was indeed bleeding, perhaps from a fatal blow, or rather one fatal to the normal mortal. She would be in pain until Cardenas saw fit to let her drink more blood. Until then she remained prone on the cot, trying to let the pounding headache go away...

(Alright you two can go before Seth and Liliana show up. I'll be alternating the two's posts, so consider them both character's posts in the rounds. So you guys get to the arena by various means, and then I'll get us to our cells and Sarah will conclude the round.)

[Cyrus the virus]

Luc was not unfamiliar with teleportation, having his own form of that type of transportation, but this man used another method entirely. They each stepped before a transluscent blue portal that deposited them in another area instantly, and the transition made the mage choke briefly. It'd been so sudden, far unlike anything else he'd ever experienced. As wind, he actually moved at a heightened speed. Instantly changing locations was something beyond that entirely.

I'll have to learn that, he mused to himself as his eyes drifted about the structure.

The arena, and there was no denying that it was precisely that, for Luc had seen more than his fair share of those, was as large as any other he'd ever seen. Though the blanket of night was draped across the sky, scores of massive torches lined the upper lining of the open dome of the structure, revealing to Luc the obsidian walls and the tiny emerald gemstones which adorned the brick.

He was on a higher plateau which looked down upon the battleground, a typical dirt oval shape surrounded by climbing stadium seating with a woman within it, walking determinedly away from her fresh kill. About the mage and his hooden companion sat the more noble of audience members, he figured, and they each looked at the two newcomers with less-than-subtle expressions of condescension. Luc gave each of them a passing, cold glance, chuckled lightly to himself and looked away.

"It is beautiful, is it not?" Asked the robed man from a few feet behind the man. "This arena has seen the grandest of duels and the most renown of warriors. You are our honorable guest, Luc Kraus, so please enjoy it."

Luc, arms crossed over his chest and eyes turned downward, did not bother to reply as he heard the man shuffle off. His role here was unknown to him, but he knew it would become clear sooner or later, whether he liked it or not.

Some distance below, a face of stunning beauty and sharp features turned upward in Luc's direction, sensing the subtle prodding of magic up on that plateau. Freesh focused her senses and narrowed her fierce green eyes, knowing that a transportational doorway had been opened.

"I do believe he has arrived," she remarked to her companions, a pair of men who each looked humorlessly at the scene below them, as a man cleaned the remains of the battle. "Who volunteers to go speak to our friend?"

Crowley chuckled at that, knowing that Freesh wasn't speaking of Luc Kraus, but of the man who was running the show in the arena. Even in the darkness, Crowley's eyes shone a bright, intelligent grey.

Brash, meanwhile, pursed his lips and considered what was happening. "We find the boy after so many years, and without even facing him condemn him to his death? Forgive me if I consider that rather... Anticlimactic."

"We agreed on the course of action," Freesh reminded him as she tossed her yellow hair from her face. "He fights the vampire woman and is killed. You've just witnessed her prowess, don't you think she can get the job done?"

"I don't recall suggesting such a thing," Brash replied harshly. "I merely think it lacks flair, that's all. It feels like the work of a low-class assassin unable to do his own killing!"

"We still agreed, and Vai especially seemed rather keen on the idea." Crowley said, sobering Brash and his argument. "Go speak with the big man, then," he continued, prodding the man next to him with an elbow.

An exasperated, impatient blow of his breath accompanied Brash as he rose and went off to do just that.

[Letho]

He was in and out of it for what could’ve been days and felt like months, his mysterious captors renewing the poison dosage every time the Corone Marshal came to. Memories of that time were scant and blurry. Letho remembered being in a rather lofty chariot, his hands bound as a pale face with a wry smirk loomed above him and pricked his skin with the tip of a dagger. He remembered squirming and twisting his body so he could try and feel the pulse on Myrhia’s tied wrists. He remembered the relief when he found out that she’d been unconscious rather then dead. He remembered the two guards discussing about upping the dosage because the bastard is getting restless too often. He remembered asking one of his captors why they were doing this. He remembered not getting an answer. And all of it he remembered through distorted images that his mind’s eyes displayed through a filter of murky water.

But when the next image came to life before his squinted eyes, the filter was gone and Letho’s vision was clear. His body was still dreadfully weak, the bulky swordsman struggling to even kneel, let alone stand on his own two feet. Whether it was from muscles atrophying or just the side effect of the poison he’d been stuffed with, Letho couldn’t say. All he knew was that he was in a well furnished loge under which a stone circular coliseum with its endless rows of benches looked almost like an optical illusion. The sky above was black and starless, and yet the entire stadium complex was illuminated, especially the center stage where two squires lumbered a corpse with an open throat out of which the blood still oozed, only to get lost in the dry sand.

“Good to have you back amongst the living, Ser Ravenheart.” the same nonchalant voice from Tylmerande shores spoke from his side. Letho’s instincts wanted for his head to snap in the direction of the voice, but the best he could do was a groggy, lethargic turn and even that made his neck muscles hurt and his head throbbing. In an armchair made out of polished wood and soft velvety padding, sat a figure with slick bronze hair and an ageless white face. In his gloved hand there was a goblet and at first sight Letho thought the man was drinking wine. But a simple smile revealed the true nature of his captors.

“Vampires.” he thought, but left the results of his observation for himself. “What the hell you want of us?” he said in a dry voice that made his throat ache and crave for water. His bulky arms gave the cuffs a good tug, but his strength was only a shadow of what it formerly was, failing to break the metal he used to be able snap like a piece of string.

“What I want is irrelevant. What my master wants, however, is the reason you are brought here, to observe this glorious edifice.” the vampire spoke, sipping on his bloody refreshment. Letho faintly registered the reply however. At his side, Myrhia was lying on the soft carpet lifelessly. “Don’t worry for your little lady. She won’t be harmed if you don’t get any smart ideas and go against your very nature.”

Letho’s eyes didn’t break from the tranquil redhead, her small chest rising and falling in a barely noticeable manner. “And what is my nature?” he asked, not terribly interested in whatever proposition the man or his master had in store. Because the poison was wearing off and as soon as his strength was back at full capacity, he would throttle them all. He just needed to keep the bastard talking as long as possible.

“You’re a predator, Ser Ravenheart. You can clad yourself in an attire of casualness, fill your days with trite little distractions, but deep down you know you’re made for ending lives. My master merely offers a venue and opponents worthy of your caliber.” the man spoke, twirling the golden vessel in his right and tapping the fingers of his left on the armrest in a patient, almost amused manner.

“This is because my forfeit in the Serenti finals, isn’t it?” Letho asked, averting his glance from Myrhia and giving his surroundings a quick glance. The arena was even larger then the one Serenti, but currently it held barely half of what the one in Corone could take. Apparently, there either weren’t many people interested in pit fights here or they weren’t happy by the battles that were taking place for their own sick amusement.

“No.” was the simple answer.

“Then I probably stepped on your master’s toes on a different occasion.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m just a messenger.”

“So what’s the message?”

“Oh, it’s quite simple. You agree to fight in our little arena. If you don’t, she dies. If you grow a brain and attempt to escape, she dies. If you die... Well, I guess you see the pattern by now.” the vampire said, a fanged, malicious smile displaying teeth rosy from the freshly consumed blood.

“You bloodsucking...” Letho wanted to finish both the exclamation and his movement with head-butting his sedate captor, but the weakness in his muscles slowed him movement significantly. It was more then enough for the vampire to land a kick with his polished leather boot that struck the angered captive in the chin, sending him reeling backwards and stumbling over Myrhia’s legs.

“Take him to the cells.” the black-haired man said, calmly leaning back into his chair. “And make sure the girl joins master in his loge when Ser Ravenheart fights.”

[Dissinger]

(Thats fine Letho All will hopefully be revealed in this next post.)

They made their way through the cover of darkness. The Monolith that represented their target loomed before them. An arena as ancient as the lands surrounding, it had been up kept by their new masters over the countless centuries since war had ravaged the land and made it hostile and barren. Seth wasn’t an expert on Revenian history, after all there was very few people with the correct lineage to be one. However, one thing was made clear upon glancing at the arena; the Revenians had a rather impressive design to their architecture.

“Well, I think its time to turn you over to Lord Cardenas, and collect our bounty. You’ve been so good I’m almost tempted to give you a treat…” The leader, a nameless one with a mouth as large as Seth’s, harped as he laughed at his own joke amused at the turn of events. The bone handcuffs on Seth seemed to strain as if trying to keep him contained before he relaxed his arms. Liliana’s gentle hand on his shoulder was a reminder why he couldn’t afford to just slaughter them. For once, the Demon had more than himself to think of and so as much as it pained him, he let the comment slide in biting his tongue.

As they moved in he heard the general’s voice in his head, It still exists after all. I thought that it would have been destroyed by time. Perhaps that was wishful thinking…

Care to enlighten those of us who aren’t older than the dirt under our feet? Seth replied tartly. The general seemed a bit incensed at the remark as a soft harrumph echoed in Seth’s head.

Listen up boy, this arena is what brought about the entire Traitor’s War. It was constructed to try and get the eyes off the King while he tried to keep the loyalty of his nobles. Bread and Circuses created in order to prevent the inevitable, when his kingdom was torn asunder over the course of several years. This arena was the birthplace of the madman Cyril Cardenas, the Defiler of Revan. The end of his speech caused Seth to pause a moment as he looked about the arena.

Cyril Cardenas, the Defiler of Revan, that was a name he knew well. It was that madman he cursed every year on the anniversary of Revan’s fall for destroying the homeland of so many. Of taking the hopes and dreams of a fooled people and crushing them overnight when at the end of the bloody march to the long lost capital city of Kenth, they realized that the fields were destroyed. As he moved forword he said softly back to Karel, Is he as bad as the stories foretold?

He is worse, because he drapes himself in a cloak of civility. No matter how calm he appears, don’t trust him one step Dahlios. That’s an order.

Seth only nodded silently as Liliana followed him in staying close. Looking over at her he gave a concerned look before she whispered softly, “It’s a bit cold, so much undead presence chills me, hard to block out when its this condensed.” He nodded as he took off his cloak wrapping it about her shoulders. She whispered her thanks as they continued to enter the halls lit well by the ample torches as they were brought in. Seth merely concentrated on Liliana as they were brought forth. Finally they were placed in a room and told to wait.

Liliana looked at him as Seth’s eyes seemed to study the walls. His piercing gaze looking about as she whispered, “Escape?”

“No, we’re stuck here until we can figure a way to smuggle out of here,” He whispered. He then sighed as he said softly, “Until then this is home, which is better than my other idea for now.”

Before Liliana could question the odd statement a knock came at the door. Seth’s eyes focused intently on it before it opened on its own and a man entered. His black hair was swept in a feigned attempt at keeping it together. However the grey eyes that Seth spied told far more. As he looked into the eyes of the man he felt a chill in the core of his soul. An echoing cry of his souls pain seemed to be in those eyes. The garb however, was not suiting of a man who stood so proudly and regally. His attire was more akin to someone from Lavinya than a true noble. The feeling of power emanating from him however, told Seth that there was more hiding in the depths of those eyes.

“Ah, Seth Dahlios. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I have heard many stories about you. From many people, stories of corruption, of power, of destiny-“

“Many exaggerated or false,” Seth spoke firmly. Liliana looked up at Seth as she seemed to sense something in him. The soft and gentle side was effaced from him as soon as this other man had entered the room. However as the man closed the door behind him he offered his hand out to Seth. Seth eyed the hand for a moment, his gaze like that of a predator gauging another predator. Finally he turned and said, “I’d shake, but your grunts were less than cordial…”

“Ah, where are their manners? Please let me help you…” He then reached out for the shackles before he stopped and looked at them. With a sigh he said, “Ah, dragon bone, they were indeed thorough. I must make sure to punish them for not handing over the key. In the meantime I’ll merely skip the formalities and tell you why I need you.”

Seth turned around as he looked expectantly at the man before he spoke, “I would like your name at the very least. I often find it’s rude to be given a name and not offered one in return.”

The man looked into Seth’s sullen grey eyes before he tilted his head back and laughed. As he placed a steadying hand on his stomach he finally calmed down before he spoke, “Ahh, perhaps some more formalities are required. I guess I shall have to introduce myself, my name is Vampire Lord Cyril Cardenas of House Cardenas, the seventh of the Twelve Great Houses of the Vampire Court of Kenth, and the master of this Arena.”

Kenth still stands? Vampiric Courts? God damnit man! The world gone to-

We’ll talk later Karel Seth returned cutting off the general. He then spoke, “Seth Dahlios, The Lavinian Demon, not quite as flashy as your impressive titles. However, where I come from, titles only get you a noose, so I guess I can count myself lucky.”

“Yes, Lavinya’s practice of hanging its thieves is a never ceasing cause for amusement around here. Now, the explanation why you are here, Seth, you have been brought to the Arena’s of Kenth in order to fight, I give you an opportunity to delve once again into your bloodline, to feel the raw power surging beneath your skin. To be a god amongst insects like you were those years ago. All I ask is your loyalty to me,” Cardenas said with a winning smile and an offered hand before he chuckled and pulled it back.

“Not interested,” Seth said as he looked softly at Liliana, “I played that game once, I tried to win it too. In the end I lost my parents and I don’t want to think of what I’ll lose the next time.”

Cardenas looked at Seth before he spoke again, his tone stiff, “Sacrifices are to be made if you are to become your dream. What was that dream again? To overthrow the government of Lavinya and free its people from their oppressive taskmasters…”

Seth froze as he heard those words. Liliana looked him in the eyes remaining silent, supporting him as he fought his battles. Seth merely looked into her eyes as he replied, “Sacrifices were made, and I decided the price of power was too high. Now can I go?”

“You truly are no longer a demon. You aren’t even a man, you’re but a pathetic empty shell going through this life trying to figure out how to get forgiveness for what you refuse to accept happened. You seek atonement, but refuse to acknowledge the past happened. The blood on your hands is still there, and you can’t ever let it go. You seek to get out of the game, but you can’t, you are a monster Dahlios. Have some respect for yourself and become that monster again…”

“Negotiations are through. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m a bit tired, I’m not a nocturnal creature,” The words were spoke in such a way that Seth smirked at Liliana. As she shook her head slightly he heard a soft sigh from the Lord.

“If that’s your final answer, then I will have to do this the hard way. You will be here as a prisoner of the arena. She will be kept separate of you and only after each fight will you get a single hour with her. If you please me and become your namesake you will get her back, if you displease me or refuse to fight, you will lose her.”

Seth tensed as he heard those words. Liliana however spoke up softly, “Don’t. Just relax, and bide your time Seth. You’ll figure something out.” She then moved away from him before she said softly, “Where am I to be kept?”

“You will be with the blood puppets. Meanwhile, your esteemed colleague will make his way to the basement, where the gladiators stay between fights,” Cardenas replied as he opened the door. Motioning inside the three vampires who had brought him here moved in slowly. As Seth watched Liliana leave between two of them he felt a fire in his chest, a raging inferno of passion that threatened to carry him away. As he closed his eyes he gritted his teeth as he heard the voices begin anew, belittling him for his actions.

[Lavinian Pride]

Meandering through the hallways was a small child. She duck and wove through the crowds making her way through the vampiric elite with one goal in her head, the delivery of her cargo. As she moved about the arena her gaze was constantly down watching to make sure she stepped surely and without bumping into a single vampire as she went. Her job was to serve them and so she would do her best not to be a disturbance.

As she made her way she passed by people both alive and undead. The cries of pain as another victim was bitten and embraced rang through the halls as a new thrall was created. Part of her shuddered in sympathy, to be cursed with undeath was not a pleasant experience, yet another almost envied them. Since birth she had been taught to respect and revere vampires. While her current master had tried to break those instilled traits, she found it so hard when she saw how they defied the laws of nature and joined the night.

Almost to her goal she stopped as she saw multiple people ushered into the gladiators pit. The pit was more of a rest area where the fighters could watch the competition while seeing how their fellow cellmates faired. More of a torture method than anything the child was glad she was far too young to be a pit fighter. She doubted she would have half the mental integrity her master showed despite her shortcomings. As she entered the room she saw her master lying on the cot. A soft groan issued from her lips at the noise as the child walked up to the cell gate. Fishing out the key she opened the cage only to walk in and lock it behind her.

Moving towards the downed figure she sat on the cot beside her master's head before she spoke, "Sarah, can you hear me?"

"Perhaps too well," Came the bitter reply as a second groan issued out from the wounded vampire. The child carefully stroked her master's hair soothingly before she reached down, into her pack she produced a skin almost bursting with fluid as she uncorked it careful not to spill a single drop. Immediately Sarah's eyes opened as the rustic scent of blood tinged the air, "Finally..."

The child nodded as she held forth the skin. Sarah's hands gingerly taking it as she winced and began to drink the blood. Her eyes closed reflexively as she felt the euphoric rush. the sadistic pleasure fill her veins. Biting back the moan she felt coming she drained the skin as she felt the skull begin to reset and align. The fractures to it were closing up and before long the only sign she had been injured was a red stain on her cot, doomed to join the countless others, and the flecks of dried blood in her hair. An idle hand began to scratch behind her head as she spoke softly, "Thank you Kid."

"It was nothing Sarah, I was only doing my-" Kid's voice was soft and submissive before Sarah gently placed her clean hand over Kid's mouth. Looking her servant in the eyes she seemed to be searching for something in there. Kid only looked blankly back into the surprisingly warm brown eyes. They were kind and caring, compassionate eyes.

"You helped me, and so I thank you. Don't be so quick to shun responsibility for your actions. You'll find there are far too many people in the world willing to take it upon them instead," Sarah said softly. Kid only looked at Sarah curiously before she sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. The night was getting old, and as she had been in pain there was no telling who had or hadn't come into the area. As she looked around she thought she spied a couple of people, perhaps the last ones she ever wanted to see.

The first person was one that she might have been happy to see, had their situation not been the way it was. When she had left the man she had helped him regain his mortality. While she had undone the curse, how ironic fate had made it so she would take that very curse upon herself. As she looked at him somewhat guiltily she moved onto the next cage. It was left open as if the man was free to walk around. A silent alarm going off in her head as she realized this man was a willing captive. Still she studied him as a name drifted through her recently repaired brain, a name from the Cell, one of the last things she had done before she had gone underground.

Luc Kraus.

A mage from her recently recovered memory, but nothing much else caught her fancy. He was a free man as far as he knew, if he only knew. Still she sighed as her gaze moved to the next cell and stopped. For a moment she felt her veins turn to ice and Kid moved away from Sarah, the change that occurred within mere seconds of spotting the third occupant quite noticeable to those that knew even a little about Sarah. As she got up she moved forward towards the bars despite the weakness of only recently having fed assailing her. Her eyes were tricking her, it was the lights or the fact she had only recently regenerated. There was no way he could be here.

As she looked at the figure he was sitting in the cell, in a position that belied a silent rage. It was a visage meant to imply one should not talk to him. The air about him as hostile as it began to get around Sarah. Her anger and rage, the fuming at what had happened as a result of this mans actions, of his daring to defy those about him. She felt a raging inferno that left her as hot as the blood loss had originally left her cold. For a moment even she almost believed herself alive, until she felt the fangs in her mouth. She was furious to see him here.

The figure stirred as she caught a glimpse of the vest, the shirt the pants. The demeanor was so like him, down to the wild hair and the gauntleted fists. As she continued to focus on him the figured again shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the gaze. Finally her words broke the uncomfortable silence, "So you could screw me over, but you can't even look at me now?"

The result was immediate as the grey eyes, those grey, guilt-ridden eyes looked deeply into her brown ones. It was a contest of wills as they tried to force each other to back down. The proverbial game of chicken enacted; looking for the other to blink in order to claim the moral victory. However, as unrelenting as the gaze of the Hex Magi was, the Vampire won out as he turned his head. Finally when he spoke his voice was hoarse, as if strained and belying an intense fury, "You got what you wanted, what else is there I can do? You kicked my ass, and I can't change the past."

"How about an apology?"

(Alright you guys can come in before/during Sarah drinking the blood. Letho probably might snap at the Dahlios twins to stop the bickering if you need more dialogue just ask. Luc you're basically free to move about the arena, but if you ever try to leave you will be locked up like the rest of us.)

[Cyrus the virus]

A gladiator, Luc thought with a slight, hard to detect chuckle. If anything, he was the polar opposite of a gladiator, he thought. Around him were all manner of bulky fools, armor of bronze and iron, each of them wielding some manner of blade or weapon. How easily he could dispatch each of them, he knew.

Some were showing potential, he noted. A man with naught but a staff to his name, a scruffy short beard hiding whatever expression he wore, seemed to be a spellcaster of sorts. Ever the biased one, Luc favored him to get somewhat far. Another, who paced about the room, occasionally looked to the others. Despite his nervous habit of walking back and forth, his eyes betrayed a keen knowledge and thought process, Luc detected.

The pit fighter area held about it the stench of sweat, and Luc soon felt the need to leave it, rather than endure the terrible smell. He'd gotten enough measure of his opponents by then, anyhow, and unlike them, he was free to leave and take a walk.

He headed to a row of cages, finding an empty one and laying on an uncomfortable bed within. A woman came by that he did not recognize, though she seemed to look at him peculiarly before moving on. Luc shrugged and put his head back, closing his eyes and preparing his spells.

Meanwhile, Brash was returning to his companions, who were positively bored in their seats. The battles were tame, consisting of swordslingers and generic tough guys with axes, hammering endlessly at each other until one was too slow to dodge.

"Good news and bad news," he said, bringing both Crowley and Freesh's gaze up to him. "Apparently having the vampire woman fight him is a bad idea, so it's not happening."

"Figures." muttered Crowley.

"However," Brash continued, drawing out the word. "The Dahlios Hex Mage will fight him instead."

Freesh's eyes opened wide, and a grin came to her face. "That's an interesting trade-off," she said happily. "Will he kill our geomancer?"

Brash could only shrug. "They apparently have an... Unstable relationship. But the chances are good."

The three of them sat deep in their seats, a collective anticipation taking hold of them. As long as Luc was dealt with, any forseeable problems could be easily disposed of.

[Letho]

“You’ve grown soft, maggot! You’ve grown weak and complacent and stupid! There were times when you would’ve torn these shackles and stuff their own swords down their throats before they could even brandish it.” Those were just some of the thoughts that the voice in his mind ranted as he was dragged down the endless flights of stairs and towards the basement. And it was so painfully true. There were times when Letho Ravenheart would’ve shown these vampires and their master the meaning of the expression one man army. The old Letho would have never allowed to get captured back in Corone. He would’ve been cautious, vigilant, intercepting the threat and making that same threat sorry it ever crossed paths with the sword-wielding Marshal of the Corone Rangers. He would’ve decimated them with his bare hands. He would’ve kept Myrhia out of danger. He would... He would...

But what he would’ve done in the current situation had little in common with what he could do right now. And right now he was weak, drowsy from the poison and jaded by merely walking down the stairs. The fabled strength by which he was known – and because of which the proprietor of this arena probably captured him – was just that, a fable, something unbelievable to be told of by the fireplace to grandchildren at which they would blink with their mouths open agape. Only then, when he was stuffed into a cell and left to crumble to his knees, Letho realized that this might very well be the venue of his bitter end. And while the thought of the ultimate defeat stung like a bite of a viper, the sensation was only amplified by the realization that he would be dragging Myrhia down as well.

***

About an hour later, the toxins from his blood were gone, taking away both his fatigue and his pessimism as well. They left a headache though, a big fat mean one that made his head feel like an overripe watermelon. He was sitting on his cot, forearms resting on his bent knees, hands dangling loosely, an image of a weary man that was ready to throw in the towel. Only he wasn’t about to. No, not without a fight. Maybe he was weak and slow, but Myrhia’s life was at stake. All he needed was a sword and he would cut their way to freedom. Chances were the owner of the arena got tired of nameless faces fighting on the sand of his coliseum so the bastard needed somebody renown, somebody who would cut down the fodder for the enjoyment of the crowd. Letho could provide that. That vampire was right about one thing; he was made for ending lives. So he’d put a little show, slay some pretentious fools and be home by this time next week.

Only it wouldn’t be that easy.

The bulky Marshal realized that once he got up from his modest bedroll and approached the front of his cage. Dozens of cages akin to his own were arranged neatly all around the spacious underground room, and while most of them contained brawny half-naked brutes with simple faces and vacant eyes, there were several faces the swordmaster could link to certain names from his memory. Most notable of them were the Dahlios siblings, though were they real siblings was a knot that probably the even gods couldn’t untangle. There was certainly no sibling love between two. If anything, there was completely the opposite, the two at each other’s throat most of the short time they spent together. He knew both personally. Seth was at the sharp edge of Letho’s blade more then once, though since then the two became... well, definitely not friends. Neutral acquaintances was probably the best way to phrase it. With Sarah the story was different. The female part of the Dahlios duo was somebody who Myrhia loved and admired, somebody who helped both Letho and his beloved to regain their mortality. There was no great love between the thief and the Marshal, but he considered her... well, neutral acquaintance once again fitted as a description.

Aside from the Lavinian pair, there were several distinguishable figures that captured Letho’s eye as possible threats. Some had certain indecipherable auras of solemn confidence around them that he learned to heed during the years. Some seemed rather careless, walking in and out of the cages freely, fools that signed up for this bloodsport freely. There was little that could be learned from observing them, in truth, but the Marshal did it all the same before he was interrupted by a dispute between the Dahlios twins. Letho knew little of their history, bits and pieces he could read between the lines, but they sure as hell argued like a brother and a sister.

“Hey, Dahlios two. Shut up! Keep your fighting for another day,” his voice boomed gallantly from his cell, his hands hanging through the bars as he leant forwards. “I reckon you two got the same courteous invitation to this wretched thing as I did. Do you know where the hell are we? That out there sure as hell doesn’t look like the Serenti arena.”

[Lavinian Pride]

Sarah glowered at Seth as he continued to shift and turn. Her mind worked backwards towards the memories of her in his skin, the missed opportunities, and the atrocities. It had been so long ago, almost what felt like forever. The Day of Damnation as she had heard him refer to it as was the day of her birth, and likewise what he believed to be yet another mistake he had made. Sarah Dahlios wasn't supposed to live. She was the construct of Seth, the puppet used when he was left vulnerable as a woman.

However Letho's words were sage and sound as he spoke up. He asked of where they were, and how they came to be there. Sarah of course spoke up before Seth could even reply, "You're in the dead lands now. Welcome to the country we call home Letho, Revan, a kingdom destroyed by greed. As for where exactly we are, you’re in a coliseum about a week’s journey from Lavinya. Problem is, we're deep in vampire country. This is the reason you don't leave Revan's roads, you may end up here forced to work, or as a vampire's snack."

"As for how I got here, I wish I got an invitation, I'd have rather died than suffered this," She began as she felt the anger at her helplessness boil over her. Her eyes closed as she leaned against the bar, and she could hear Kid moving forward and placing a steadying hand upon her, "Thanks Kid."

Kid nodded as she spoke up, "Sarah is weak from her fight, I don't think the blood has had time to grant her her strength back," Kid explained to the others before she turned to her mistress, "You should sleep Sarah."

"In a bit, it's still dark out Kid," Sarah said as she looked across at Seth. She then sighed as she said, "I hate to say this, but I know exactly what’s going to happen. They bring in apparent legends all the time. Work them till they die, and try to ensnare them in the curse of undeath. Then they get a new toy to play with while they seek the next sap they're going to enslave beyond death."

"Miss-" Kid began before she got a rather curt glare form Sarah. Clearing her throat she started again, "Sarah, its almost day, the arena will be closing soon, rest while you can, tomorrow will be a new night. There is no telling what Cardenas has in store."

Sarah sighed before she looked at Letho then Seth. She then spoke up, "I suggest you adjust to night life quickly. They wont take no for an answer gentlemen." She then turned and slumped onto the cot. Kid immediately helped her into the bed as she pulled the blanket over her. Sarah closed her eyes as she felt the tug of sleep upon her, drowsing her and making her feel far more drained than Cardenas' rough treatment.

[Dissinger]

He sat for awhile silently as Sarah explained the situation. He knew all to well where they were. He had heard the rumors the stories. Nightmares meant to scare children into being good. Much like he was a nightmare now. It was almost ironic that he, who had rarely been good, would end up as a legend within another legend. Still he remained silent until Sarah took her leave. As he closed his eyes again he sighed as the leather of his gloves creaked at how tight his fist was. Looking at Letho he couldn't help but feel he might have caused him so much pain, so much sorrow. Before him was also Luc Kraus, and there definitely was bad blood between them.

He was surrounded by his past victims. Before him were victims of his petty lust for power or jealousy, victims of his brash words or large mouth, of his lightning wit, and slurred tongue. Here, the predator was forced to sit quietly with its prey. And he felt like a predator. The cage was giving him a glaring sense of unease. He needed to be free, to be with Liliana, to start the life they had planned. However as much as his thoughts were obsessive over Liliana, he knew she was safe, and that was what mattered.

As she fell asleep his mind wandered, until he heard the voice, Don't like yourself very much do you?

Where do you get that one? Seth asked inquisitively.

Sarah, also known as Seth Dahlios, seems to be rather pissed off at you. Might I inquire why? The general's voice began.

Can we talk about something else, like making a plan to get out of here?

Make one yourself. You seem to be in the mood for it, Karrel's voice was vindictive. Seth knew the General had a mean streak, however as he glared down at the bracelet resting upon the gauntlet he felt that the General took that jab out of spite.

He sighed leaning back against the wall as he snapped at the General, Well seems to me that you're in a pissy mood, so I'll let you go back to pretending you know what’s best.

As he rested in the corner he remained silent, as he tried to figure something out.

~*~

"Well, I never thought I'd see you back. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Cardenas began. His voice was disturbingly slick as he gestured to a chair in the room. It was a lavish room befitting one of his station, if a bit too posh. Chairs with cushions, tables ornately decorated. There was a jug of warm blood for him and goblets for guests. It was obvious that it was more for show than anything. However, the one man in the room ,the last one Cardenas was expecting, was the one that took that grandeur and tore it away.

In the room was a man, while slim and his robes tattered he held and air of authority. His head was bald, devoid of a single hair to tarnish its shimmering sheen, with one exception, the immaculate goatee of black hair upon it. His piercing grey eyes filled with a loathsome hatred as he spied out amongst the Vampires leaving the arena for the night, waiting to return when their kind would not be destroyed. He snorted in derision as he finally acknowledged Cardenas' question, "For reasons beyond your comprehension."

"Well, I must inquire, your father-"

"Will not hear a word of my presence here. If I find this instruction is not kept, I will destroy what little power you have Cardenas. You forget that in the grand scheme you were nothing more than a common piece of trash, and much like me, when you outdid yourself, and aspired to higher, you were punished."

Cardenas felt a bit of hot anger at the remark as his pride was hit. Yes he knew exactly what this...cretin talked of. He wanted to destroy him for it, but he waited and politely nodded, "I will see to it. You must be tired since you have journeyed all the way from Haidia. I think-"

"Let us talk," The man said as he stepped forward towards the balcony of the lofty room. Cardenas followed if only to keep observation as the man continued, "Cyril, how long as it been since you awoke to the Grand Dream?"

Cardenas had to stop. It had been ages since his awakening as a mage, since his birth. As he looked at the man before him he rose and eyebrow before he finally put a number forth, "Five maybe Six hundred years. I awoke to Father-"

"Yes, and his dream was pure, untainted. He had a goal and a Vision. What happened to that goal, that vision?"

"Its changed, as it was forced to-"

"Do not lie, you know the truth. It is as corrupt as the original creator of it has become. Father does not follow his dream, but uses it as strings on his puppets. Why else would he ask you to herd the ones who cannot be tamed into submission here? To kill or embrace them back into the fold forcefully."

"Because an untrained Magi is as dangerous-"

"-as a hundred enemies. While curable, not to be left unchecked," He finished. Cardenas was getting the feeling he was being herded into something. However he was surprised when his guest changed topic, "Now, how is Dahlios?"

"As volatile as a rogue mage gets. He's totally uncontrollable with the exception of the girl, who he turns to when his magic gets out of hand. She seems to calm him, but he wont respond to anything I try. I offered him a forum to control himself as he trained. To work through the problems that lead-"

"Of course you did. And of course he would turn you down. He is human after all, as human as a Magi gets. He does not understand what he got himself into yet. He only knows the basics, and frankly, no one has sought to teach him more. Instead Mordechai tries to cow him, to make him bend his Lavinian head. He is descended from the Revenians, he will not cow. They fought to the last, with the very peasants taking arms to fight us. Why should one of their heirs, perhaps the last of the noble blood they once had, bend to your will?" The man said as he turned. Cardenas shifted uncomfortably, the talk of his father was intimidating.

"Because, the dream stirs within him as well-"

"The untainted dream, he thinks that because his parents were killed, he has committed a wrong. And he is right."

"But sometimes the few must be sacrificed for the greater good-"

"Do not feed me that lie. We are human Cyril, maybe you like to pretend you're a vampire, traipsing around with their enhancements in order to keep what little shreds of your soul you have left following your ascension, but do not forget you are mortal," The man cut him off.

"I do not forget, Kycoo, why do you bring this up?"

"Because for once the precepts set forth by our Father, Mordechai, are correct the Rogue Magi Dahlios must die. However, it is not for the reason that you may think. I only request that you do not do so until I say its time, and only in my manner. There can be no forcing of Dahlios. He must be allowed to die naturally and to remain dead," Kycoo said firmly. No room for argument was left as he said this.

Cardenas felt a bit of panic rise in him. Mordechai had many plans for Seth, plans that relied on Cardenas doing the opposite. However, in the end he had only one choice. Kycoo was far stronger, far more volatile than Seth, the Mistake of Mordechai could not be turned on now. He would have needed an army to stand a chance, and with Cesarino having taken most of his troops, he had nothing of which to combat him.

Realizing his options were limited he sighed as he spoke softly, "As you wish Son of Mordechai, but do not forget, his blood will rest firmly on your hands."

"As it should be, for one day mine will rest on his..."

[Letho]

Letho knew precious little about Revan. The reason for this was not his lack of knowledge, however, but rather the scarceness of information that even an avid wanderer such as him managed to gather. Mostly it was hearsays and telltales, scary stories about a dark, inhospitable land filled with inhospitable people. “True enough so far,” the Marshal thought as he stood leant on the bars of his cage and observed the Lavinian pair. Needless to say, he wasn’t too fond of Revan, and not only because he was trapped here. Revan was the polar opposite of Corone, a sorry realm caught in constant upheaval and outlawry where chicaneries, such as the one that got them all behind bars, passed as a common occurrence. Granted, the Republic wasn’t perfect in every aspect, but it had cohesion and solidity that most of other lands lacked. And Letho liked that kind of security.

What he didn’t like was this curse of undeath that Sarah mentioned. The ranger had quite enough of that particular curse for one lifetime. It was in his best intentions when he was willingly turned into one of the nightprowlers, but that road almost took him straight down to hell. Then again, roads paved with best intentions have a tendency to do that. Either way, it was a long and gruesome journey from the bloodsucking immortality back to the land of the truly living, and Letho had no intention of walking the same path again. He would get out of this alive or dead, but not something in between.

Sarah, however, seemed to be on that path already. The woman did seem a tad different to the swordsman, but only when the little girl that accompanied her mentioned blood, Letho was able to pinpoint the deviation and realize that the female part of the Dahlios duo already fell to the curse. There was a touch of irony in that; the last time they met, the roles were reversed – Myrhia and Letho were vampires and Sarah was still human. Only this time they weren’t caught in a battle for mortality, but rather in a struggle for their very survival, such as it was.

He was about to suggest that they ought to join forces and come up with a plan to get the hell out of this bloody ordeal, but it seemed that Dahlios twins made peace with their fate. No sooner then she finished her speech, Sarah succumbed to sleep with the creepy little tyke watching over her. Letho didn’t quite understand the connection between the two – the thief never seemed like a motherly figure to him. In the adjacent cell, Seth was as talkative as usual, keeping to himself with the mulling expression on his face and the gaze that went through and through everything it was directed at.

“Great. Trapped in a nest of nightprowlers with a pair of self-serving thieves as the only possible allies. Could it be any worse?”

It could. Shortly after Sarah went to sleep and the first streaks of sunlight shot through several miniature cracks in the iron shutters of the narrow cell windows, several guards brought in the breakfast. Or rather dinner, according to their nocturnal nature. Given the fact that his body was tortured with poison for days now, Letho was starving, but he found little satiation in the dish that was pushed below the doors of his cell. Some bread, some cheese, no meat and a pitcher of water was not exactly a feast, but then again, given the arrangements so far, the swordsman wasn’t surprised.

“How do you suppose us to fight on bread and cheese?” one of the captives said, a lanky scoundrel that had the look of somebody who got used to watch the world through metal bars.

“Poorly. You work for your food. Good show equals good food,” the guard replied, obviously untouched and uninterested in further conversation as he made his way back towards the exit. Letho picked up his plate and chewed on his food slowly. If Myrhia was safe as long as he put on a good show, he was bound to have real banquets delivered to his cell in the near future.

[Dissinger]

Seth remained silent for what seemed like forever as he remained still. He could feel the penetrating gaze of Letho before he spoke, his words were soft, so as not to disturb Sarah, "I suppose I should welcome you to my homeland, but that would be a drastic overstatement of the situation. Which leaves us with few options. The Vampires of Revan never willingly give up their prey, not without a fight. Its one of the few reasons the Lavinian’s are so smug, we're mostly immune to the undead that plague our lands..."

His eyes glanced at the small child before she seemed to move next to Sarah on the cot and curled up in front of the Vampiress.. Her eyes closing as Sarah seemed to wrap and arm protectively about the girl in her sleep. As he remained silent a bit more he spoke again, "Long time ago when I was forced to face my demons, I begged you to end me quickly when I harmed your source of strength, and stopped myself from doing more. Since that day I pledged myself to protecting her, and I doubt I could stop after that episode with my cousin considering once again my foolish actions put her in jeopardy. So, I figure if I can get you two out of here, I can call it even and move on from that chapter of my life. Just know that whatever plan I come up with to get Liliana out of here, you two are in it as well..."

And just what plan is that boyo? You got nothing so far, so what are you going to do? Karel's voice was vindictive, and the response Seth gave him was perhaps the last one he expected.

I need help Karel, this is out of my league, and I need someone who was alive when this Coliseum was built, when it was put to use. I need your knowledge Karel, Seth replied. His tone was almost desperate. Something that Seth often tried to keep himself from getting, however he was truly powerless. Cardenas was a nightmare unto himself. His legacy far bloodier than that of Seth, but it was something he could not combat unprepared.

Let me get this right, you want my help because you can't do it anymore?

Rub it in if you have to but I need information and unfortunately beyond the Traitor War I have dick.

Karel laughed as he spoke sternly, My how the mighty humble themselves. Its about time you figured something out. Lets get talking, there is a lot of information, and little time before the guards force you asleep. You got a long night in front of you...

~*~

Soon after the sun had risen the day life of Reven was apparent. The dead lands claiming its title once more as the barren lands produced nothing beyond the occasional windstorm. As the day passed the Coliseum looked as cold and lifeless as its nightly inhabitants. The vampires slept through the day, after locking all the competitors away. When at last the dwindling sunlight left the plains the lands became alive, as Carriages and people began to arrive, slowly at first, but then in greater numbers until finally it was the nightly spectacle of the Arena.

It was at this time that the sounds of footsteps through the competitor’s area were heard. A few of the veteran competitors groaned knowing what was coming. Cyril Cardenas, dressed in his commoner garb began to walk through the competitors, until he laid his eyes on the newest members of his captive flock. Smiling as he did so he grabbed the sword from a nearby guard, sheath and all and clanged it against the bars waking any who were still asleep.

“Sarah can get a bit more rest if she needs it; she knows how the drill goes. You three however, need to pay attention. My name is Lord Cyril Cardenas. I am the owner of this establishment, and your new master. You will do as I say, fight whom I say and do it with the utmost respect. You once were powerful figures out in the world, but now you will fade into legends. Your life beyond these walls is irrelevant anymore, you will serve the arena until your final breath leaves your mouth, and your spirit attempts to escape the hells you’ve been through,” His words were not a request, were not sugar coated, they were a statement. The period at the end of a sentence, the cross on the T and the dot on the I.

“Tonight marks two of yours debut, as I must still think about how to introduce the legendary might of Letho Ravenheart. However, I find that the arena too quickly becomes a pit of brutal fighting, done so dully. I think tonight we’re going to spice up the events here, with a bit of magic…” Cyril then glanced at Seth then at Luc, “I have a few spectators asking for something far above the barbaric fights of old. So you two will not only fight, but fight until one of you cannot continue. There will be no quarter given; you fight until your opponent is unconscious or dead.”

Looking at Seth he then spoke, “Fight well Dahlios, it’s obvious what you’re fighting for. I should hate to think of the repercussions of a lackluster performance…” He then turned to Luc before he said, “If you wish I can have you fed before your fight, you have a couple of hours, but I would not recommend it, too many times the arena becomes too much for the combatants, and too many fights are lost at an inopportune purge…”

He then looked at Letho before he said, “Your friend is safe, do not worry for her now, she is being doted upon by the other puppets. She will continue to be so until I have a chance to review your fighting, I will not punish you for what you have yet to do. I may be a harsh master, but I am fair.”

A snort echoed through the room as Cardenas looked into Sarah’s cell. She was remaining silent as he seemed to move over to her cage. He then spoke harshly, “Bite your tongue Dahlios, if I need talk to you again, I will not hesitate to take what’s left of your dignity.” He then moved on as he set up a few other matches, then left the cell area. Seth merely remained silent as he waited, knowing it was fruitless to talk. It had to happen, and he would be damned if he was convinced to not give it his all.

[Cyrus the virus]

"Sometimes I feel like he's just waiting for us to deal him out," Brash continued. The three had been discussing Coartez for some time since waking up. Passing the minutes until Luc Kraus and Seth Dahlios entered the arena was difficult, for all three of them had flutters in their stomachs, anxious jitters.

Freesh groaned and thought about it. "I don't know, he's been with us since the beginning, since we sta-"

"Hold on!" Crowley interrupted, his grey eyes scanning the arena below. A grin came on his face. "I think it's about to start."

**

Luc Kraus stood below, in the oval arena that served as his battleground, looking about at the people sitting all around him in rows of climbing seats. They were not excited, they were detached, bored. They'd seen too many barbarians meet their end, and no amount of sword-slinging was going to excite them on this day.

The mage smiled. Not only would he get his saught-after vengeance on Seth, who'd embarassed him at least twice in the past, he would appease the fans with his magic and as a result, appease the lich that had brought him here, increasing his chances of learning the undead magic the cloaked being undoubtedly possessed.

It was worth the risk of death. Luc waited.

[Letho]

“Ah, so the name gets a face,” Letho thought from the darkness of his cell, sitting casually on his cot and sparing Carendas an uninterested glare. The vampire overlord was no pushover, the swordsman could tell that much. There was always a distinct air around people of power, this unyielding aura that struck fear in the weak and respect in the strong, and Carendas seemed to have that in abundance. Unfortunately for him, Letho wasn’t his peer and he damn well wasn’t his servant. He was the hangman with the execution of the pretentious nightprowler bastard pending due to lack of opportunity. That was why the Marshal decided to lay low, play the role, do some bloodwork. And sooner or later, the almighty vampire would make his first and last misstep.

The news that Myrhia was well was only partially comforting. Regardless of how sincere the statement might’ve sounded, Letho had a tendency not to fully trust people with fangs who drank blood and held him captive. However, the redhead was the leverage, she was the trump card, and Carendas was probably not asinine enough to waste it senselessly.

Though, truth be told, he wasn’t terribly smart either. Perhaps this entire deal seemed pretty damn spiffy in theory, but in the real world, capturing people like Seth Dahlios and Letho Ravenheart was equal to trying to capture and domesticate a pair of behemoths. It might be appealing, it might attract a throng of applauds, but at the end of the day you’re left with a pair of beasts in your backyard. And most of the time they were more trouble then they were worth, especially if they worked together. Which, according to the male half of the Dahlios duo, was a very viable option. There maybe was no great love between the ranger and the thief, maybe there wasn’t even respect between them, but they were in the same muck now and they both wanted out.

***

“You have one hour, less if Dahlios and Kraus fail to put on a good show,” the guard said before unlocking the cell door and allowing Myrhia to enter. The lithe redhead wasn’t in the unremarkable garb anymore, her traveling clothes replaced what Letho could only describe as a really skimpy dancer attire. Her modest, almost flat, chest was covered with a jewel-encrusted brassiere that glittered in golden yellow and ruby red that left the rest of her torso bare. What looked like uncanny shorts covered her nether areas, the scandalous piece of clothing covered with ducats that twinkled as she walked, coy and chagrined. Her emerald eyes did their best to evade every single look – and there were quite a few from the nearby competitors – as her hands clung to the translucent shawl that offered little concealment.

Once she captured Letho’s gaze though, the dam broke and she ran into his arms, lithe as a feather, jingling and struggling to keep the sadness of her face. The guard locked the grated door once again, but the pair barely noticed him by now, embracing and clinging to each other like condemned lovers. “What’s going on Letho? Why is this happening?” she whispered, struggling to remain brave and stifling the tears, but they came anyways once she felt his strong arms touching her back, her sides, her neck.

“Shh. It’s going to be alright. Some people who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer want me to fight in the arena.” It was a statement so sugarcoated that it nearly classified as a lie, but she didn’t have to carry the burden of the truth. It was better for her to think that this was just a competition, just a game like Serenti Invitational, where everybody got out healthy and happy.

“Alright,” she acceded, seeing through the lie, but finding more comfort in the ruse. She maybe was wide-eyed and here only for a short time, but people talked up in the suite where the rest of the girls are. And the talk wasn’t nearly as benevolent as Letho put it. “They made me wear this, made us all wear clothes like these. I look like one of those exotic dancers,” Myrhia said in embarrassment, the way she always did when she was uncertain whether or not he would like how she looked. It was that look, that reluctant tone that won him every time, that would fuel this campaign of his. Her modesty, the root of all benevolence, would drive his belligerency.

“You look wonderful,” Letho said, kissing the lips she bit in apprehension. “You must be cold though. Come, sit, we have much to talk about and little time to do it.”

[Lavinian Pride]

Sarah watched as Luc and Seth were forced from their cells. They were taken to the staging areas of the Arena in preparation to fight. Luc still held that arrogant air about him still thought it was a place he could leave at anytime. It was a look Sarah had seen countless times. People who willingly entered, only to find it was a hotel from which they would never leave. She never did see what happened to them after Cardenas gave them his embrace, but she knew enough not to ever worry about them again. It was this fact that made her kill her opponents more often than not.

Still as they filed out those two, she saw a diminutive figure. As Kid stirred in the bed and woke up she saw Myrhia let into the cell with Letho. Sarah quickly turned Kid's attention to her as Sarah said softly, "Give them their time alone, its not our place to watch."

"Are they from your past Sarah?" Kid asked looking up at her.

Sarah sighed as she pondered the answer before she nodded, "Yes, I helped them and they gave me a gift I can't return. All I can do now is just hope and pray that I get that chance to give them a gift in return."

"Are they friends?" Kid whispered. Sarah giggled at the question before she ruffled Kid's hair. Smiling down at the child she nodded softly. Kid then whispered, "You have some funny friends Sarah."

"It comes with the territory. I'm a thief, and I'm bound to attract the odd couples..." Sarah said as she tried to give Letho and Myrhia their alone time. She was trying not to listen, not to intervene in the precious time Cardenas had given them. It was odd how the tangled web of fate worked. Here she was looking for an escape, and these two showed up with Seth and who she could only guess was Liliana. As she waited silently she heard the announcer blare out across the arena.

~*~

The crowds had gathered. As Luc had made his appearance they eyed him critically. He looked too scrawny, to weak to be a true competitor. Surely Cardenas was joking when he said that tonight's bout would be a true thrill. As they waited the other champion to enter Cardenas stood high above the arena. The balcony to his room was filled with one woman, the very one Seth fought for and a few guards incase she decided to get ideas. Smiling he said softly, "Tonight, we feast."

Turning to the woman, she too was garbed in a dancer's outfit. However he did respect her privacy as he walked forward and spoke, "You do a wonderful job of taming that beast. I have to wonder how you do it. Perhaps if you tell me, I'll let you spend the night with him in private?"

[Liliana Ambria]

Liliana stood defiantly. Despite the garb that would have normally made her uncomfortable she stood there waiting. Cardenas was a monster that much she could feel. There was something beyond the undeath that he had, something similar to Seth that gave her pause. However, it didn't take much logic to know Cardenas was trying to bribe her to tame Seth. He wanted Seth broken and tamed for his own sick sadistic pleasure. If she was going ot help him she would be damned if she did so willingly.

So when the offer was given she merely remained looking out at the arena interestedly as she said softly, "If I knew I would tell you. The problem is there is a few assets your missing if you wish to be Seth's type."

Cardenas immediately cut off her vision as he growled lowly and said softly, "I do not like people who think they can horde information. Further, I do not like disrespectful cattle. If you wish to remain amongst the living, and keep Seth from killing himself, I suggest you adopt a better tone."

It was a marvel to Liliana how quickly the retort had come. Even more was the amusement that shone on her face when he made his threat. She knew it was an idle one, the only true threats had been the ones to get Seth here. Now that he was if Cardenas killed her, he would have an enraged Demon on his hands. As much as Liliana knew about his temper, she knew he would tear Cardenas apart and blast the remains if it meant he would get revenge for her. She only sighed as she moved slightly to look out at the arena and said softly, "Sorry milord, you're blocking my view. I'll try to be more respectful later."

Cardenas' hand clenched in a fist before he uncurled it and said softly, "If you ever want to see him again, I suggest you drop the attitude. You are mine, everything of yours is mine. That means Seth, and that means you have no choice. You will help me or I will not hesitate to tear your mind apart for the answer. Do I make myself clear?"

"As crystal," Liliana replied as she saw him. Slowly walking out from his own staging area Seth walked. His gate was steady and even. His hair covering what she could assuredly guess was worried eyes. The crowd seemed to go silent as they saw the man before them. Seth remained still as he stood a few yards from Luc Kraus the Geomancer, as introduced by the announcer. The announcer went on to list the crimes Seth had committed drawing the crowd to look more and more interested, and making Liliana cringe as she knew what toll they had taken upon the thief.

If Seth was worried about them, he surely didn't show it as he remained there waiting. Her eyes gazed pityingly at Seth as Cardenas spoke, "Like a monster, he shows no remorse or guilt for his actions. I pity you; you've chosen a hard beast to tame."

"I pity you, after all this work to bring him here, and you still don't know who he is..." Liliana said as she gazed upon Seth, "You doll him up, dress him in the part of the monster. If you truly knew who he was, you'd want nothing to do with him. You would release him and me, before you find out the hard way."

Cardenas laughed before he said, "I know what he is, the broken shell of a man, who harbors in him power, the power to rule nations and change destiny itself. He bears the Blood of Mordechai and bears it well. He merely forgets that he only needs that blood, and nothing else to be truly happy."

"You would think that," Liliana replied.

Cardenas laughed again as he said, "I've seen a hundred like him come through here, I suggest you watch, the slaughter is about to begin. Perhaps you'll understand when you see him fight. He is no human, he is a Child of Mordechai, its in his blood to destroy the world about him."

"We shall see," was Liliana's cryptic response.

Alright the Posting order is me and Cyrus for awhile until the battle ends. Letho if you feel a post could be interjected and make the story flow, feel free to do so. Otherwise we'll just do the fight until it comes to the finish. Following that it will be Letho's post. Also I should note that all fighters can see into the arena, and so can see the fight.

[Cyrus the virus]

Relaxed as he tried to put himself across as, Luc couldn't prevent the flutters in his stomach was Seth revealed himself across the way. That hair, those eyes, that face, that stance, they were all things the mage so truly hated, and no amount of convincing could change that. He'd hated Seth for years, since their first encounter in the Theater of War, but had always tried to overcome it and find even ground with the Hex mage to stand on. As he looked at him now, Luc realized to even try to like him had been a mistake. It was a cowardly thing to do, an effort on Luc's part to avoid confrontation with the only man able to consistently best him.

Not fight him to a draw. Best him.

The mage was shaking in anticipation, but was too focused to bother with keeping an elegant appearance. "Seth Dahlios," he tried to say calmly, but it came out in a throaty growl. He didn't seem to realize that his teeth were clenched. "How many times have we been in this situation? How many times have we been face-to-face, knowing we're to fight? I'm going to kill you, Hex Mage, and then I will spit on your corpse. I'll burn you so that noone will recognize your body."

A familiar warm aura came over Luc then, coating him in a green light as if he were a beacon. The slightest of hushes came from the crowd, but Luc didn't notice.

"You will never embarass me again!"

The wind picked up around the mage, throwing his hair, his cape, his clothes around him as the sand rushed up. He was enveloped by swirling sand, and the crowd loved it, roaring their approval immediately. The tornado of grains rose above him and tore forward like a rabid beast, swirling the sand below it as it reached for Seth.

[Dissinger]

Seth snorted as he walked forward, he didn't make a single move of hostility. As he waited silently for the Geomancer to end his rant he felt a bit of anger swell up in him, yet kept it restrained. Today was not a day for anger. Today was a day for keeping a cool head. If he lost his temper, Luc would die, and he would not let that happen if he could avoid it. As Luc seemed to mock him, talking of burning him away Seth rose his eyes up to meet the geomancer's own, a sorrowful look in them as he said only for Luc's ears, "You hate me so much that you would risk your life to end mine? I may have said some words Geomancer, but that is all they were. If eye for an eye means so much to you, then lets hash it out here and now-"

It was obvious today was not the day for logic. As Luc covered himself in the familiar green aura Seth waited before the Geomancer flew up high. As the tornado of wind came down from on high Seth wrapped his cloak around his face and weathered the storm as the sand began to go to work cutting into his skin. Feeling the biting sting of pain Seth remained silent through the endeavor as he felt the winds buffet him trying to pull him from off the ground, and when he thought they almost might they were gone, his cloak having a few holes in places, and small cuts from where the wind had gotten through hit him.

Small bits of blood dripped from a few places as Seth remained still, unmoving. He couldn't draw against the Geomancer, he almost refused to. He didn't want to die, but if Luc became more hostile, he would be forced to. As he saw Luc floating out above the arena he shouted out, "I'm not going to Kill you Kraus, at least show the same respect for your fellow human being!"

~*~

"Admirable, he’s trying to hold back, trying not to kill. It won't last, he wont let the dog taunt him, not when he's a wolf in sheep’s skin," Cardenas said as he smiled at what was going on. The crowd having seen the bits of magic began to explode into applauds hailing Luc Kraus their champion as they heckled Seth. They ranted and railed, trying desperately to provoke him to fight. Cardenas smiled as he said, "The dog keeps biting at him, I wonder when he'll snap. He wont let the mage get better of his pride. I wonder, do you feel horrified by the nature of Seth? You were at the Cell weren't you?"

"I feel sorry that he has been neglected, and that no one was able to help him until I came along. Its no wonder they call him demon, when he's been forced to resort to giving up his very soul to survive..." Liliana said softly.

"He willfully took those spells; he could have just as easily died. Radasanth was no accident. He knew what he was doing when he killed in revenge. Face it, he is a monster, born of monsters and will die a monster. The only question that remains is will he leave another monster for the world to cower in fear of when he goes," Cardenas said as he watched the fight. Seth was remaining still as he tried to reason with Kraus. A sadistic smile lit across his face as he said, "Any minute, Kraus will push where he shouldn't..."

Liliana remained silent as she gently placed a hand on her belly. Closing her eyes she waited for the prophesized retaliation as she whispered softly, "Keep calm Seth, now isn't the time, soon, soon...."

[Cyrus the virus]

"Shut up!" cried the mage. His anger pulsed through his veins as surely as his blood did, and each beat of his raging heart increased his determination. The roar of the crowd didn't help. Even if he wanted to calm himself, he would surely have been unable to.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! No more words, twit! We've exchanged enough words to fill a tome over these years, and I'll have no more of it! You and your preaching, your incessant, nonstop, determined need to speak your fucking words... I've had enough!"

An uncharacteristic flush came over him, staining the Geomancer's face red. He didn't notice, but his fingers were curling into tight fists and then extending again, over and over, and with each flex of his arm gusts of wind were picking up from below him and tussling his clothes. It was baffling to any of those who had seen him during the day, for Luc was normally calm and graceful, walking as nimbly as a human could.

Truth was, years of pent-up anger toward Seth was rising up and surfacing again all at once, like a bottled tornado finally released from its prison. He didn't need to pretend anymore, didn't need to 'forgive' Seth because it was neccessary. The Hex Mage didn't have him at his mercy like so many times before, and Luc wasn't going to allow him to get in that position. No more would he try and fight the fire in him that burned away at Seth.

He liked the anger.

The floating mage unsheathed Slykrit midway, licking flames reaching out and across his body to his opposite, waiting hand. The metal blade slid back into the scabbard as Luc brought both hands to bear, lifting the growing fireball over his head as if he were to chop down with an axe.

Frighteningly fast, the ball of flames grew larger than Luc himself, larger even than most hill giants any human had seen. Ten feet wide and ten feet tall, the ball of flames burned at Luc's clothing even though it hovered some distance above his head. The oxygen around him was sucked ravenously into the flames, as if it were a creature eating for the first time in centuries.

When he could no longer bear the heat, the ball of flame was sent forth by Luc's reaching hands. It moved slowly through the air, sizzling loudly enough to drown out even the loudest of the audience members.

[Liliana Ambria]

Liliana watched as Seth slowly let the cloak drop about him. He moved slowly, deliberately, making it clear what he was doing so the mage could not assume false motives. However she could feel it even from here. Her sense reached out and felt the pulsing anger and hatred of the arena. The crowd was bloodthirsty beyond the normal unearthly requirements. They wanted to see a fight, and they were angry they were only getting half of one. As Luc began to charge the fireball she sensed Seth grow a bit dimmer.

Frowning she stepped forward looking at Seth as Cardenas smiled. Seth merely remained still as he looked at Kraus. The fireball continued to grow and swell, reaching obscene proportions. It was then Seth moved, and the sense of his life returned full force. He began the rush to the side as the fire threatened to engulf him. The geomancer allowed little or no misinterpretation of his motives. She closed her eyes feeling the hate roll off Luc in waves. She was too far to try and calm the geomancer, something she regretted, but knew was inevitable. One day Seth would have to unchain the demons inside, and he would fight for someone or something.

She never expected it to be now, or for her. As he rolled just to the outside of the fireball it hit the dirt exploding spectacularly. Seth caught off guard by the impact of the fireball was tossed a couple of feet before he hit a wall slumping slightly. He looked at the Geomancer trying to see what the next attack would be, and stopped upon seeing none. It was then his eyes raked over the crowd. Moving slowly he looked up before she could see his face, to far to make the features, but close enough to tell he had seen her.

He was looking for permission.

It shocked her to say the least, but she sighed and nodded as he seemed to nod back, pulling twin daggers from their holsters. Daggers forged form the steels of Lavinya and tempered in the fires of what remained of his soul. He opened his mouth and shouted something, something she couldn't here, then charged forward. His demeanor changed from that of a complacent victim to a murderous predator as she watched him reach down to his belt and throw something towards the geomancer.

~*~

"Just because I said I wouldn't kill you, doesn't mean I won't defend myself you officious asshole!" Seth shouted as he rushed forward. Grabbing two Kunai from his belt he let his fingers thread through the Lung poppers as he chucked them up at the Mage. His temper was short, but he wasn't going to kill the mage no. He was going to beat him within an inch of his stupid life. He was poking the sleeping bear with a stick getting bolder with each poke, but when it awoke, its roar was ferocious as the crowd echoed it through the arena. The battle had truly begun a feat the likes of which would have entered a tome of legends.

But first, there had to be a victor.

[Cyrus the virus]

Licking flames poured like acid into the sand, winking out of existence as Luc stopped maintaining them. His hair clung to his scalp, glued there by the sweat the incredible heat had brought. He was panting, but Seth was already on his way. The mage dropped down a few feet to meet the lungpoppers, swinging a hand across to bring a gust to carry them away before they could hit him.

The irritating projectiles dealt with, Luc hit the ground and threw both his hands forward, sending another strong gust forward to intercept Seth, who was too close for Luc's liking. Sand tore up from the ground as four hundred pounds of pressure was sent forth. Each grain was like a miniscule bullet, but that was not Luc's intention. He wanted to pluck the Hex Mage from the ground like a flower and throw him roughly backward.

His eyes were fierce with anger, hair, cape and shirt blowing forward with the wind. He eventually let the wind die down and plucked his sword from it's scabbard, the steel igniting into fire at his touch.

"He's determined," Freesh said.

"Maybe too much so?" Brash replied, his voice showing more concern than interest. "What if he beats Dahlios?"

Crowley shrugged, unworried. "Then we have a measure of his strength. However skilled a spellweaver he is, he doesn't pose a threat to us and our plans. He doesn't even know we still exist. As long as we keep that knowledge from him, we have nothing to worry about."

All three of them recoiled suddenly, their faces bathed in a red light as a huge stream of flames erupted from the body of Luc's blade. The crowd showed their appreciation as one, a collective hush coming over them before a quick applause.

"I hope not, anyway," Crowley said, though he was grinning.

[Dissinger]

Seth growled lowly as the winds whipped up. More sand bit into his flesh as he began to bleed more profusely. His skin felt raw from the scrubbing treatment. Blood began to seep into his vision as everything began to go red, his temper rising. He didn't want to just beat the geomancer anymore, he want to humiliate him. As he growled lowly he muttered, "Be surprised what you can live through!"

Red energy began to crackle down his arms as the crowd went ballistic. This was a true clash of titans, far and above the mediocre physical fights of old, magic was not only being used, but being used well. It wasn't a sell sword with a few tricks up his sleeve, these were practitioners of a higher magic that they had not had the pleasure of viewing in quite some time. As they began to cheer the energy began to form into the crimson orb of Seven Deaths. It wouldn't kill the geomancer, that wasn't the intention.

He wanted the bastard to cry out and be distracted while he figured out how to pound that damn shield off him.

As he held onto the orb the wind began to push firmly pushing him back a few feet from the geomancer. His eyes barely protected by a gauntleted hand. He looked at Luc before he finally began to show some sign of weakness, stumbling forward a step with the orb in his hand. Blood dripping down the arm as his face was contorted into a mask of utter malice. His goal would be achieved today and Luc would learn he could never best the Hex Magi. as he recovered from his stumble he threw the orb using his tolerance to pain to ignore the fact that he felt like very nerve in his body was exposed.

Growling lowly he muttered, "Tell you what Geomancer, I may not kill you today, but when I'm done, you'll wish I had..." He then began to move slowly forward trying to use what little time he would get to his advantage.

[Cyrus the virus]

The glowing orb came too fast for him to dodge, but Luc had a split-second to try something else instead. With a thought he attempted to Counterspell the orb. The projectile fizzled into the air in a second, becoming a wisp of smoke between them.

The grimace that had been on Luc's face was wiped off completely, and hopefully quickly enough that Seth didn't see it. He knew what spell that had been, and by luck his Counterspell had worked. The mage had no desire to go through that embarassing ritual again, even though he knew how to overcome it.

"I've prepared well. Your old tricks can work on me only so often!" he said with a laugh. "I don't think you appreciate the seriousness of your situation, Dahlios. I will kill you today, or I will die, and things seem to be going rather well for me. If you grovel, perhaps I'll spare the friends I've seen you walking about with."

Luc thought that would trigger a rise in Seth's anger, so he cast a spell immediately after saying it. A magical effect targeted Seth and washed over him. If he didn't overcome it, it would make him reckless.

Thinking the Recklessness spell and the added need to protect his allies would push Seth to fight more foolishly, Luc carefully spawned a long, thin needle of wind in his hand, hiding it from Seth's sight.

[Dissinger]

The orb was snuffed out before it had a chance to engage his foe. A soft smirk lighting up his face as Luc took a jab at him, talking of how badly it was going for the thief. As the smile broadened he grinned wider at the comment he could kill his friends. Closing his eyes he could feel something push at him, it tried to gnash and wailed at the thief, evoking anger and pride. However, like the many voices calling for the geomancer's head, it was ignored, a mere voice lost in the symphony of the depraved man.

The smile on his face could be called hardly human as the geomancer tried to force an attack. His words were acerbic, but finding no purchase on the thief's mind as he said, "Always with killing. Is that how you validate your existence? Who can you kill? That’s not true power Kraus. True power lies not in the ability to steal lives..." He then muttered softly, not allowing the mage to hear the words, "Times up."

Black energy coursed around his body as he rushed forward, trying to grip the mage, so that this attack could not be stopped. He was taking a risk, and a large one at that, but he had to grip the mage, to stop him short and figure out how best to tear him apart. His animalistic need to spill blood was overwhelming, the Hex Mage within screaming for it. He would spill some blood today; it was inevitable, since Luc first spoke of burning his corpse. As he moved he spoke forcefully, "If killing is all you're capable of Kraus, you're no better a monster than me!"

Reaching out to touch the mage he drew Ebony along in its wake. Luc had to be wondering what this new magic was, as Seth had never truly used all his magic about the mage. Still he would need a backup as he prepared a surprise assault, should his touch attack fail.

[Cyrus the virus]

Luc's smile was wiped off his face in an instant. Seth and his Hex Magic had taken him by surprise, as they always seemed to do. He dropped his needle of wind as he tried to begin moving, but he could hardly take a step. He was frozen in place, yet still able to breathe, somehow.

Seth was coming toward him, but the mage tried to keep calm. He still had three hits left in his Stoneskin, and if things got too heated, he was confident he could disenchant the freezing and catch Seth by surprise. If he couldn't, there was little else he could do anyway.

He struggled to disengage the hold, doing a rather good job of struggling without actually using his Disenchant spell to break it. Either he was convincing, the Recklessness spell had worked, or Seth was confident. When the Hex Mage was close, Luc willed the Disenchant spell into existence and he could move once more.

He sucked in a breath as Seth grabbed hold of his tunic--getting him off was going to be a pain--then lost it as he saw his own arm. Not only had he disenchanted the Stop spell, but he'd gotten rid of his own Stoneskin at the same time. Seth would realize it, too.

The Hex Mage had one of his daggers drawn, so Luc focused on that, trying to use his power over metal to pry it from his hand and cast it aside. Whether or not it worked, Luc formed another needle of wind in his hand and reached over toward Seth's face, in an attempt to drive it into the soft white of his eye. If nothing else, he hoped it would distract Seth long enough for him to break free.

[Dissinger]

Seth felt the fabric of Luc's tunic upon the minimally exposed flesh of his hands and grinned. The mage seemed to be panicking as he put forth a great effort to overthrow the power of Stop, however, as quickly as the feeling of the momentum shifting in his favor came, it left nearly winding him as he felt Stop release prematurely. He had done nothing too violent, and he knew the limits of his actions. However, while he was pondering it he realized one thing....

...The green protective shield about Luc was gone.

The grin returned as he began to bring the dagger towards Luc's gut, before something happened. He felt something wrench the dagger, trying to strip it from his hand before it flew from his ill prepared fingers. Growling lowly he caught movement in the form of a new attack, this one with deadly intent as Seth brought his hand up to deflect the savage blow. As he began to deflect it he barely realized how close he had come as the air needle instead of puncturing the meat of his eye grazed his cheek, drawing blood.

The vampires went crazy as the very liquid of their existence was spilt. Cheers erupting at the sight as even more cheers for the geomancer began to grow. Their chosen champion had drawn first blood. As He stumbled a bit from the shock he looked at Kraus, the blood seeping down his cheek before he swung his left in a punch meant to make the geomancer unstable. He had had to let go of the mage when he blocked the stab, but he figured Luc would still be caught off guard if the blow came fast enough.

He was reaching the limits of his temper, and he didn't know if he could stop it this time, or more importantly, if he wanted to stop it.

[Cyrus the virus]

Luc was disappointed when the wind spike missed the vulnerable, soft eye of his hated rival, but he was satisfied anyway when it bit into Seth's fleshy cheek, drawing blood. A primal, instinctive joy came across his face in form of a grin.

It was promptly wiped from his face by the furious fist of his rival.

The mage stumbled back, one of his cheekbones throbbing and his nose already bloodied. He fell, comingr close and closer to the sandy ground, when a gust of wind erupted from nowhere and pulled him up and to his feet. His glove was made bloody as he wiped under his nose, wincing as he felt the sting.

Luc's eyes raged like dragonflame. He was enraged that he'd made the mistake of disenchanting his Stoneskin, and even more so angry that he'd done it at such an inopportune time. But now he had a chance to float out range of Seth, so he did just that, never taking his angry eyes from the Hex Mage.

When he was suitably high, out of range of those daggers, Luc drew his blade. He kept a watchful green eye on Seth, ever mindful of those nasty lungpoppers.

Then the sword burst into flame, and he growled, his face animalistic as it glowed orange.

The sword shed its firey skin, and the resulting stream of fire shot down to the ground where it mixed into the sand. Luc himself wasn't quite sure of what he was doing, but an idea formed in his head as he willed the fire to spread and heat up. He showed signs of strain, his jaw clenched like a vice. The fire was visible as it travelled through the grains of sand, toward Seth's feet.

Then, as he willed it too, the fire erupted like a volcano, pulling sand up into a great vortex of flame not unlike the tornado he had summoned earlier. Luc suddenly felt a gnashing, digging pain in his chest, but fought against it to keep the flame vortex going.

If it had happened correctly, the flames would have swallowed Seth. If that had happened, Luc hoped the fire had been enough to fry the flesh from the Hex Mage's bones. He let the whirlwind die and immediately gasped for air, his face aglow with sweat. His chest was pained. Luc was pushing his powers past where they'd ever needed to go before.

The crowd was beyond appreciative of the spectacle. Their chanting lasted far beyond the life of the flame vortex. The mage hoped it had killed Seth, for though he knew he could go on for another while, he knew it would be a stupid choice to do so.

[Dissinger]

Seth growled as the mage nearly went down for the count, only to be lifted by forces Seth could only assume where Luc's own. As Luc pulled back, Seth watched for what he knew was coming, the coup de grace of his stunning repertoire. As Seth waited the flames began to spin around him parching the already dried lands of Revan. Even more sadistic the mage then began the eruption of flames, to incinerate the Hex Mage.

As he willed his body not to panic he felt the fires begin to eat away at his flesh, going far and away beyond the tolerances of his pain. He struggled fought to keep the cream and control as he waited. Soon when he could hold it no longer, no more than a mere second to the crowds he gripped it full heartedly. Clutching the gift of the magi his body began to regenerate as the fires began to expire rapidly healing and keeping up with the flaming attack if only barely. No pain was spared as he stood there trying to hold onto himself, feeling the edges of his vision blackening as he grew tunnel vision. His body was shutting down from the sheer pain of being burned alive.

Hateful, baleful eyes looked across at Luc Kraus as he watched the outcome of his vicious attack. As much as the crowd cheered his name, they hushed when they saw the still standing Demon. He took a shaky step forwards, trying to get ever closer to the geomancer. Each step was a word, he recited like a mantra, to focus through the pain, "You...will...feel...my..." He stumbled to a knee as he knelt underneath the geomancer and roared, "Pain!"

The audience, who had until then only seen one attack from Seth, was incredulous of the strength of such an attack until they saw its rather impressive effect. White light seemed to flow from him freely outward in a ten foot radius as he felt himself beginning to fall. In response to his failing body he felt anger red and hot welling up in him and upon gripping it punched a gauntleted hand down into the dirt. As he felt the anger begin to fuel him he opened his eyes, still blurred and in tunnel vision, but clearing up. Though anyone who looked back could see one noticeable change, they were dead.

~*~

Cardenas smiled as he looked over at Liliana before he said, "I'd say I told you so, but that would be bad form."

"He still won’t kill, I guarantee it," Liliana defended. She then closed her eyes as she said softly, "Keep going Seth you have him, just keep calm."

“For Kraus’ sake, I should hope so.”

[Cyrus the virus]

Crowley, Brash and Freesh looked on, each of them wearing the exact same expression: concern. Luc Kraus had evolved into something none of them had ever expected him to, a budding wizard. When the vortex of flames consumed Dahlios, all of them though him finished and were already thinking of a different way to do away with the powerful mage.

Then the fire died, and Seth still stood. He looked different, certainly, but he was very much alive. The three Masters held hope yet, as they looked on with surprised, anxious eyes.

Luc's eyes were half surprised as well, but angry. His fists were clenched so hard that he couldn't feel them anymore. "Why won't you die?" he managed to ask, before Seth got under him.

Suddenly, pain flared in his body. The mage hadn't heard Seth's words, otherwise he might have been able to counter the Pain spell with Spell Absorb. Too late now, he realized as he fluttered downward.

He couldn't contain a scream, though he caught it midway and forced his mouth shut. The wind below him was a mess of different gusts, pushing and pulling in different ways as he tried to save himself from an even more painful fall. He could not focus, but managed to land on his back.

His whole body felt aflame, as if he'd been the one caught in the tornado of fire. Even through his writhing he recalled the spell Seth had used, and realized that soon the Hex Mage would be upon him, stabbing home one of his fucking daggers.

Still, as much as Luc realized it, he simply could not rise, could not fend for himself. All he could do was wiggle pathetically in the sand, his rapid breaths blowing clouds of sand into his own eyes.

[Dissinger]

He stopped over the fallen body. His hateful eyes raked over the mage, who could not hide his fate any longer. His gauntleted hands rested on the pommels of his daggers and he moved to send a swift kick to the face of Luc Kraus. Once that initial attack was done he spat, "Look at me Kraus!"

Kraus however seemed keen on doing the opposite as Seth roared, "I said look at me Kraus!" He moved grabbing a fistful of the Geomancers green tunic in the process and forced the mage to look him in the eyes. When he spoke his voice was cold, "Look into my eyes damnit. You think power is taking lives? You think that who you kill defines how strong you are? I killed plenty, and I only found out one thing. There's always someone better."

He let the geomancer go as he growled low. He wanted to make sure he had time to properly deflate the overgrown ego of the geomancer as he spoke, "Life is passing you by."

Grey energy arose at the command forming into one of his spells as he tossed it casually at the downed form of the Geomancer. He then looked at him as he said, "True power is in giving life you pathetic worm. I'm going to give you the chance to live Kraus, but I'm not doing you any favors. You're going to earn it..."

He then began the assault sending a savage kick for the ribs of Luc. A follow up was a boot heel being brought down into his back as the crowd watched in awe at the ferocity of the Mages attacks. He attacked without mercy or remorse as he sent blow after blow, never once pulling his daggers, before he backed off and stood still, waiting for himself to charge his judgment upon Kraus.

"You got a few minutes to live Kraus, make the best of them..."

[Cyrus the virus]

"Let's get out of here," Brash suggested. The others agreed.

They were out of time.

++

Finally the pain wore off. Seth's spell had run its course. Though Luc was no longer writhing, his mind could not immediately deal with the sudden vigor the lack of pain lent.

He tried his best to ignore Seth and rise, but the Hex Mage did the job for him, roughly seizing Luc's elegant tunic. The mage grimaced as Seth ran his mouth, a myriad of biting responses floating through his head. Someone better? Luc didn't think so. Not in the end, anyway.

Seth was fighting to diminish Luc's ego, but the more the mage heard, the more he was determined to prove the fool wrong. Slow hit him and took affect, bringing a grunt from Luc. He knew he wouldn't be able to overcome the spell by will alone.

A forceful kick lifted him from his fours, bringing spittle from his mouth. He fell onto his face and tried to get up, but found his limbs sluggish as if being pulled through thick syrup. Something hit him in the back, and he hardly registered the pain. His sight went black for but a moment.

Two more strikes took him in the ribs, and Luc knew that some were cracked. He fought against the pain, and when the Slow spell ended, he was able to get to his knees, looking angrily at Seth. Half of his face was coated with sand.

"A few minutes?" he coughed, and he had to laugh. "Too weak to kill, idiot? If you don't, I'll just be back again, and again, until my fire grows hot enough to melt your bones."

Luc laughed again, in short, pained breaths that escaped his open, bloodied mouth. The crowd had grown somewhat still compared to how they'd been only minutes earlier. Luc could easily hear Seth's breaths, and the conversations of some people in the front rows. Most people seemed annoyed or upset that he had been put on the defensive, but he didn't care. The days when Luc Kraus cared about his spectators were starting to fade. A new era would soon begin.

Suddenly, he spat. A smile came on his face when he saw it hit Seth's shirt.

"I will outlive you, Dahlios twit," Luc said, not aware of how true the statement was. "I promise you that. When your body hits the dirt, I pray some cosmic force delivers to me the news."

He looked up to the hooded man atop the overlooking tower. Luc would not unlock his secrets, nor learn the magic that had made him into the undead lich he was. Seeing the thing's face had made Luc willing to follow him, but in the end, it was a foolish endeavor.

His eyes, green and enormously proud, the eyes of a powerful fool, bore through Seth.

"Fuck you."

Luc's body became wind, exploding into a brief dervish as Windwalk carried him from the arena.

[Dissinger]

The crowd became silent, stunned by the sudden events as Seth looked at the spit slowly sliding down his vest to the ground below, pulled by gravity. He had Luc, he was going to make him pay penance, and then he disappeared. Seth felt his anger begin to boil over as he wanted to scream yell and throw things at the mage. However, before he could begin a vocal purge, a more necessary one forced itself upon the hex mage. Quickly he hunched over as he felt the raw energies of magic hurl out of the mage.

Gift of the magi was his saving grace as the guards approached. Had he still been enraged, under the magic's control, surely he would have fought on. But the unfortunate side effect of such a base act was that there was little will to do anything but rest following it. It was nature's way of preventing someone from doing too much. He however was purging so much magic he swore he was dying. The problem with healing while being damaged was it required so much more to keep the mage aloft. Even after he had purged most of the magic he had dry heaves where a few bits of magic would escape from him before he slumped, blissfully done with the vulgar act.

The guards picked him up before he was dragged back to the cells. He wasn't sure but he could hear a roar that sounded mysteriously like Cardenas coming from his room when he was dragged through the under tunnels. However, the point was made; no one was satisfied by the fight. As Seth sat in the cell he rested somberly. He knew he had overstepped bounds again. He knew he was probably going to hell, and while at the time he hadn't cared, the guilt associated with the magic within him was almost overwhelming now as he avoided the gazes of the other cell occupants.

~*~

"Bring me those good for nothing sorry excuses for scholars NOW!" Cardenas yelled as the vase hit the wall. Liliana remained still as Cardenas seemed to vent about the room before he eyed her. A thought passed through his mind. Briefly, he wanted to just drained her and send her battered corpse to Seth as a present for the disappointing fight. However he remained calm. He couldn't slaughter the young priestess, not yet. Not until he was sure of a few things.

He then turned to her as he said to the guards, "Take her to him. He didn't do anything wrong this time, he can have his time."

He then left the room slamming the door, causing Liliana to wince before she rubbed her belly softly and said, "I don't think he liked that very much. Perhaps we should be a bit less prideful our next encounter..."

[Letho]

Myrhia couldn’t watch the skirmish that was unfolding outside the window of Letho’s cell. She had seen a fair share of fighting in her short life already and it was more then enough to realize that it often came down to the same, ugly, dreadful thing; death. And unlike the frenzied crowd that roared like a hungry beast, the redhead was an irrevocable pacifist, a gentle soul that found no pleasure in watching two men going at each other throats like wild animals. To her, fighting was the last resort, something that shouldn’t come to pass until all other alternatives have been depleted. Something that shouldn’t be used for entertainment.

Still, she couldn’t prevent herself from secretly rooting for Seth. Letho and she had history with both of Dahlios twins, stories that were too grim to be recalled too often. It was Seth that had put a knife to her throat in Serenti, Seth who had revealed Letho’s infidelity, Seth who had forced Letho’s treachery. But it was also Seth who had protected her from the thugs when she couldn’t bear to be in Letho’s presence and fought alongside Letho for her freedom. There were two faces to the Lavinian, sometimes more, but never less then two. And unlike her ever pessimistic lover, Myrhia liked to think of her glass as half full. That was why, when the evil wizard summoned his sandstorms and the crowd cheered him on, Myrhia sat on Letho’s cot with her legs drawn to her chest, hoping that Seth defeats his opponent.

Letho, on the other hand, didn’t have the luxury of ignorance. As much as he wanted to just lay on his bunk with his beloved curled in his arms, he needed to see this battle. Chances were that either of these combatants would end up facing him in the arena in the near future. He needed to evaluate them, weigh them, ascertain their strengths and weaknesses. Of Seth the swordsman knew quite a lot by now, but this cocky mage was a novelty with his elemental magics. Winds and flames bowed to his will, creating quite a spectacle for the crowd that hanged on every move that was made. And regardless of the fact that Letho had a rather small supply of respect for magicians, this Luc character seemed like a formidable opponent.

But Seth was stronger still. The Marshal wasn’t surprised by the victor of the battle – he faced the Lavinian enough times to know his true power – but he was rather perplexed by the way the victory was won. Seth was holding back, it was obvious to anybody who had eyes to see and wisdom to comprehend. There was reluctance in his attacks, a lack of that bestial rage that got him his nickname. Letho suspected it was because he was trying to control that demon within that Liliana mentioned once or twice, but right now it seemed like a wrong thing to do. They were all trapped and placed before the same predicament - kill or be killed - and the choice they made decided not only their own fates, but that of their beloved. It had nothing to do with morals anymore, nothing to do with benevolence; they were challenged to a game of sheer survival and Letho would rise to the challenge. For himself, but more importantly, for Myrhia.

“So... Who won?” Myrhia asked once the silence took over the arena outside, looking up towards the muscular swordsman who stood by the window. She tried to smile, not because she felt like smiling, not because she wanted to lure a smile on Letho’s face, but in defense, to hide the fear that made her stomach churn.

“I think Seth did,” Letho replied, moving away from the window and taking a seat on the edge of the cot.

“Oh,” was her only audible reaction, though a touch of relief seemed to appear on her face as she repositioned herself so that she sat next to him. “Why do people do this, Letho? Why do they like to watch others to fight?”

Letho had a good idea why. When it came to the crowd, it was because the majority of them was weak, too weak to pick up the sword and feel the heat of the battle. They wanted to feel the adrenaline, to see the blood gush, to see death, but suffer no repercussions of such a ghastly deed. They were cowards and they relished in that fact. The motives of the organizers weren’t so clear though. Unlike the mob, this Carendas fellow wasn’t a craven weakling. He also didn’t seem to lack fundings, so this little reckoning of fighters wasn’t occurring just to fill his pockets. Perhaps he just enjoyed seeing the famous people crumble to their knees on the sand of his coliseum.

“Because they enjoy seeing other people’s pain and misery. Seeing other people lose everything they have and everything they ever had makes them feel better about themselves, I guess.” he replied, wrapping his large hand around her own.

“Well, it’s stupid if you ask me,” Myrhia said in a mild pouting tone.

“It’s a shame they don’t ask you,” Letho responded, smiling at her reaction. When he continued, his tone was hushed. “Listen, it won’t be long until my turn comes. I need you to do something for me. I need you to keep your eyes and ears open for anything that could aid us in getting out of here.”

“Do you have a plan?” she asked, her face so serious that it almost lost her girlish innocence. The door to the cell area opened with a screech, introducing a pair of guards leading a visibly jaded Lavinian.

“Not yet. For now we sit and wait and look and listen. But inconspicuously. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“You’ll be taking risks in the arena,” Myrhia said, regretful, her fingers exploring his hand coyly. “What if... you know... something happens to you?”

He picked her head up with his finger, making her sorrowful eyes meet his own. “Listen to me. There is nothing that they can throw at me that will stop me from getting us out of here. That’s a promise.”

She threw her lank arms around his neck and embraced him as tight as her strength allowed him, whimpering once again. She knew his promises were as good as if they were set in stone, and yet her entire body shivered in fear. In front of the cell, a guard stopped and shoved a key into the lock.

“Ravenheart. You’re up.”

[Lavinian Pride]

Sarah remained uncharacteristically silent during the bout. Her eyes downcast, not even watching the fight. Luc Kraus was a powerful man, but Seth was headstrong. If he got in his head that he would have to beat Kraus into the ground, she had no doubt the Demon would do it without a second thought. As her eyes remained downcast, kid stood upon the cot watching the display. Luc's attacks blazing across the arena as she said, "He doesn't do much does he?"

"No, he does little until provoked...or he feels he's ready to begin," Sarah said softly.

"Begin what?" Kid asked. Sarah sighed as she drew the young girl down into her lap and looked her in the eyes. Kid seemed to frown as she crossed her arms and said, "I want to see the fight..."

"That is not something you want to see Kid. While I may fight in the arena, while we may all be slaves to that bastard, there is no joy that comes from watching Demon fight. It always ends with him using the pain he's given as a weapon. Few realize the smartest way to beat him is in one blow, because he’s angered them till they wish a slow painful death upon him..." Sarah said softly. Kid tried to rise up only to get pulled back down her eyes closed and avoiding the doe-like eyes of Kid.

"Sarah, why?"

Sarah remained silent. She knew all to well what was going through Seth's mind. The hopes that he would die this time, that they would beat him and let him rest. The angry words spat in defiance of his fate. The need to kill rising with every heartbeat and ounce of pain inflicted. It all spoke tomes of knowledge about the thief, and the bloody road he had paved for himself. She knew all to well the pitfall's Seth was sinking into. She herself had to avoid them daily until she had met Letho and Myrhia. As she remained silent Kid cupped her face and said softly, a whining tone in her voice, "Sarah! Why won't you answer me?"

"Some questions deserve no answer. Answers come at too great a price Kid. For now rest, the fight will be over soon, his temper has ignited by now, and Kraus will need a miracle to survive..." Sarah said softly. She could hear the roar of the word pain. Her delicate ears picking it up amongst the cries before she heard the half scream of Kraus. The game was done, the Geomancer having prodded the sleeping bear with a stick. As the crowd went to silence she closed her eyes. Any moment, Seth would be brought in, the blood of another victim on his hands.

As she heard Cardenas roar she winced her reflexes remembering when he would roar at her. The punishment was always steep, and rarely did she like the outcome. Her month in the arena was nothing but hell, meant to drive her feral, into nothing more than a killing machine. She was always living in fear of her "master" and his volatile temper. As she remained silent the guards brought in Seth, throwing him into the cell. She knew all to well the process now, the feeling of guilt, the need to rationalize it. He would be over it in awhile.

However her head snapped up as she saw the guard begin to take Letho. Her eyebrow raising. Cardenas had to have some backup incase the Seth Luc fight was horrid, but this was ridiculous. Debuting the Marshall was only going to tip his hand in the long run. However, Sarah was more concerned for Myrhia's sake. Deep down she knew she cared for the girl, and to see her heart broken would not do. As they began to take him out to the arena she shouted out encouragingly, "Give them hell Ravenheart..."

It was all she could do.

[Letho]

In a way, Letho wished that Sarah didn’t shout a cheer of encouragement after him like she truly meant it. He maybe liked her more then the vast majority of other thieves and scoundrels, but the fact of the matter was that if they both kept giving them hell on the sand of the coliseum, sooner or later they would be pitted to give each other a piece of that hell. And once that happened, there was no place for camaraderie or sentimentality. Once that happened only one of them would walk out alive, and Letho was pretty certain that he wouldn’t hold back the way Seth did. He valued friendship and comrades, but there was – like with everything – a pyramid of values, and Myrhia was sitting at the top of it. Sarah or Seth or Luc Kraus, it didn’t really matter. They all faded in comparison and Letho was ready to kill each and every one of them if that was what it took to keep the redhead alive. They would come to haunt him, perhaps, their cringing faces and empty eyes creeping into his nightmares, but a nightmare was a small price to pay.

Today, however, it seemed it wouldn’t be necessary to turn any of them into a nightmare. The guard led only Myrhia and him out of the cages and into the preparation room, presenting them with the apparel prepared for the oncoming match. Aside from his confiscated adamantine blade, lord Carendas seemed generous enough to provide a rather remarkable full plate mail. “We can’t let you fight naked, ranger,” the guard jested, hurrying him to get prepared since the crowd was left with a bland taste in their mouths after the last duel. The golden enameled plate wasn’t nearly as light as the one Letho had at home, but then again, few materials were as light as Cillu glass. This one seemed more bulky and clumsy somehow, and even as Myrhia’s hands worked diligently to don it, the Marshal could feel it weighing him down. Once upon a time he would’ve been able to wear armor ten times as cumbersome as this one. But once upon a time seemed so long ago now.

“Who am I fighting?” he asked the guard, strapping the left shoulder guard while the redhead did the same with the right one. The suave vampire smiled smugly before replying.

“Now, now. You don’t want me to spoil the surprise?”

Letho did, but he didn’t exactly have a say in the matter. After another embrace that he barely felt over all the metal that enveloped him, Myrhia was led away and he was ushered towards the stairs that led to the arena grounds.

***

Letho was unmoved by the locale as he stepped onto the gritty sand of the coliseum. To a greenhorn, the roaring crowd and the thousands of faces would’ve been impressive, maybe even intimidating, but despite his only twenty-seven years of age, Letho saw his share of arenas and bloodthirsty crowds. Of course, none were so literary thirsty for blood as this one, but the basics were always the same. The throng of people, the deafening noise, the collective oohs and aahs that accompanied every move, the dry sound of sand groaning beneath the heels of your boots... The locations changed, the mentality and the principles remained the same.

Once the booming voice of the official finished descending from above and announcing the legendary hero that was supposed to be Letho Ravenheart, the mass went ballistic. Unlike a wizard and a rogue, the famous Marshal was a sword-wielder, and that meant that a lot of that coveted red liquid was to be spilled. Especially given the sheer magnitude of his opponent.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me...” Letho grumbled as the massive doors opened up in the coliseum wall to let his opponent through. The fact that his foe had to hunch in order to pass through the door wouldn’t have meant much if the doors weren’t twenty feet high. The thing that stepped forward was a titan, more then thrice as high as the armored ranger, wielding a spiked warhammer large enough to tear down small mountains. Each step his iron-plated boots made seemed to be causing a miniature earthquake, each one gradually silencing the crowd until they realized the contrast of today’s gladiators. Reaching barely to the giant’s knee, Letho looked like a golden puppet compared to the behemoth.

Up above, in Lord Carendas’ private loge, Myrhia’s breath was halted in her throat.

“So they grow them big and dumb in the north!” a solitary brave voice rose from the sea of heads and the laughter spread around this epicenter like a wave, ending the silence. The colossus didn’t seem too happy about it. With an animalistic growl, he put his hammer in motion, bringing it down towards Letho in an attempt to prove that one voice wrong. The swordsman below sidestepped the crashing drive hastily, but the impact of the hammer was so powerful that it nearly knocked him off his feet. Before he even got a chance to counter, the shaft of the enormous weapon came sailing towards his head in a horizontal arc, forcing him to drop on all fours in order to dodge it. This made Letho a perfect target for a stomp, the boat-sized sole of the boot coming from above, eclipsing the moon and the stars.

“Roll, get up, attack!!” Letho’s mind projected a barrage of commands, sending the clattering body through the sand and away from the deadly stomp. The impact of the foot against the coliseum floor upraised a thick cloud of sand and through it the swordsman advanced almost blindly, hacking at the leg the size of an oak trunk. The adamantine blade bit into the flesh just above the knee and below the simple tunic, provoking the other leg to kick forward forcefully. Huffing and puffing in his heavy armor already, Letho managed to just evade the boot, but against the follow-up, he didn’t stand a chance. The dull end of the hammer came from nowhere to strike his side, sending him flying for some twenty feet before crashing against the ground and spinning with a clattering sound.

“Goddamn armor! It’s like fighting with a bag of bricks strapped to my back. Why the hell did he make we wear it in the first place?” There was a simple answer to that question really. Lord Carendas – and the majority of the crowd – was still under the impression that Letho Ravenheart was The Letho Ravenheart, the gunblade wielding Lawmaker that wielded the strength of a hundred men. The Letho Ravenheart wouldn’t have problems with fighting in heavy armor. The Letho Ravenheart could knock the giant out with a single punch. But Letho that was in the arena right now, with his face in the sand and his hands pushing against the ground, was far from his fame. He needed time to get the armor off, and judging by the grin on the face of the overgrown barbarian, he wasn’t going to get it.

[Dissinger]

He sat there as they took Letho out, his look somber as he looked at his hands. They shook briefly with the after effects of the magical purge. He had been lucky to make it out with that as his only form of penance. He was more than certain it was divine intervention that he hadn't killed Kraus. He wasn't sure if they would ever meet again, but he certainly hoped that was fact. As he waited silently he heard the cheers and the roar of the crowd, happy to see a true bout of brute force.

Everyone was on their feet watching the fight. Some people cheering, others praying they wouldn't have to fight the victor. Sarah remained silent, her brown hair forming a curtain from Seth as he gazed upon her. The girl was built for tougher things that much he knew, they after all had shared a body for the better part of a year. However, the problem became that she knew him all to well. A problem if they ere pitted against each other, and more so if he had to kill her. While he would rather not kill the girl, for she had done nothing wrong, other than her theft of the more ambitious parts of his soul, and deserved no such end at his hands.

As he dropped his gaze back to his hands he felt her cold gaze over him. Like a beacon it was there, harassing and taunting him, daring him to match it. He remained still as she spoke, "He's in no condition to fight like that."

"I guess he'll have to improvise," Came the rather cold reply from Seth. It wasn't his job to keep him alive. The promise was to get her to safety, to pay her back. While yes he was including him in any escape plans, he didn't figure he should help the Marshal with his fights. The arena was not his territory nor was it his obligation to help.

"He'll die out there, he needs time!" Sarah shot at him. Her tone was forceful and angry. Obviously she had some vested interest in the swordsman. He could care less about his other half's machination. Not since the cell had he seen her, and for that he was thankful. However, he refused to be treated like the magical cure all. It wasn't his place to fix the damn world; his chance to do that had come and gone. Now it was time to pick up the shattered fragments of his waning life and move on. Try to settle and disappear, let the legends of the Demon die with him.

"It's not my place, besides, he’s got his strength, he should be fine."

"You miserable bastard! You sit there and you act like it’s such a hardship to live your fucking life. You act all guilty and reluctant to live your god damn life, and when you get a chance to do something that matters you act like a sniveling rat and hide form responsibility. I hope to the gods above that one day they force you to take responsibility. I want to be there when it happens, because I'll laugh long and hard when for once you have to face real hardships, and not some stupid childish form of guilt. The past is the past you bastard, let it go."

Kid looked at Sarah at the same time Seth did. The tirade didn't even go unnoticed as everyone in the cells was looking at the two. Seth remained seated as he glared balefully at Sarah, before he got up. Dusting off his pants he sighed as he thought about what he could do. A spell would be to forward, to overt. He needed to think tactically as well. Sighing he frowned when he realized he had nothing he could do other than one thing. Reaching down he grabbed a lung popper. Placing a steadying hand on Spite, he sighed as he whispered softly, "Salt heals all wounds."

To anyone watching the thief they would have seen a faint glow on the Lung popper, the blackened Kunai perfect for the job. As he waited he saw the giant stumble around looking for the marshal as dust began to seep into the cages. The stamp’s lingering effects were clearing out. Seth could see the downed form of the Ranger before he eyed the exposed knee. Moving so he was atop the cot he sighed as he waited. The target needed to be closer, he couldn't throw it so hampered. As he waited finally the giant saw the marshal and began to move toward the Giant. As the giant got closer he took a step right by Dahlios' open barred window, only to receive a Kunai to the flesh for his trouble.

At first, it was a pinprick, tiny, only jolting to the Giant. Something to cause him to paused and wonder what had caused it. But as soon as the pain began it began to double, quadruple, exponentially multiplying as the pain began to become crippling. A below of pain left the giant as he reached down to his leg brushing, trying desperately to get the little knife out of his system. Finally the Kunai left his flesh as he looked at his hand, seeing only a little bit of blood. Looking around frustrated he began to bellow as he looked for what had to be another victim. There had to be two people, not just the one.

~*~

Cardenas watched the display below as he tried to remain passive. While the spectacle was certainly impressive, he couldn't enthrall Ravenheart, not yet. First he needed a gauge, and with the act of getting kicked, Cardenas was beginning to wonder how true the tales of Letho were. The stories would have implied he was strong enough to easily heft the plate while swinging that bastard sword of his. As the Giant began to move forward he began to clench his teeth trying to figure out some way to tie up the brute, such a short battle would have the aristocracy at his throat.

It was then he spied a small motion, and the giant stopped, looking at its leg. Cardenas narrowed his eyes as he whispered softly, "Let’s have a look..."

Soon his view focused, almost as if holding a telescope, to see a small blackened knife, not unlike the ones that had belonged to Seth. The knife was imbedded in the flesh, and from the reaction of the Giant, he had enchanted it in some sadistic way. As interesting as it was, and as timely, Cardenas knew he would have to punish the Thief somehow. That would be for later though; first he needed to see if Ravenheart could pull this out. If not, he would certainly be displeased, two legends in one night was not a good plan for future and return business.

Neither was skullduggery. Something needed to happen to make it seem like the giant had been distracted. If the crowd thought things were rigged, he would lose their loyalty. So he closed his eyes as he muttered softly a chant. The words were archaic, the tone flat and devoid of inflection. As he continued to chant slowly yet surely one of the guards moved out of the gates. In his hands was a small crossbow. It was more than enough to explain the distraction. However, he would lose a good vampire today, all because of Dahlios' interference, two strikes already, meant that Cardenas would have to think of something particularly clever.

As he focused on his spell controlling the guard he forced it to fire again into the giant, causing it to bellow as it charged. The poor night crawler didn't stand a chance as he was kicked hard, sent into the wall. Letting go of his puppet he watched coldly as the giant lifted its large foot, and slammed it down on the night crawler. If the gods were merciful a bit of bone would punch through the heart and end the night crawler’s life, if not, more drastic measures to shut him up would be required...

(The guard is pretty much beyond help. Up to you if he died or not, if not then Cardenas will burn him where he stands in you post. If so, then he'll simply turn to ashes and waste away.)

[Letho]

There must’ve been somebody listening in on Letho’s thoughts because his unspoken desire was fulfilled moments after his mind cerebrated it. Instead of coming straight at him, the giant came to a surprising halt, his focus diverted towards his own leg. Whatever was lodged within his flesh seemed like a minor nuisance at first, but before long the titan’s knee buckled, eliciting a painful cry that silenced the blood-craving spectators. Was it an aftershock of the wound that Letho’s blade caused or was there somebody aiding him? Letho had neither the time nor the desire to dwell on that predicament. Whatever happened was a godsend and if he wanted to get out of this plight alive, he would have to make the best of it.

Lifting himself up from the dirt with an audible grunt, the armored swordsman began undoing his armor, keeping one eye on the struggling colossus and the other on the task at hand. The shoulder guards were discarded easily, as were the shin pads, but the breastplate’s buckles were made of metal and refused to give easily. Letho would’ve probably been out of time to unbuckle it if the guard didn’t make an unfortunate appearance. Unfortunate for the guard, as it turned out. The vampire walked into the arena with a crossbow and what looked like madness in his eyes, offering the answer to one of the questions: who distracted the giant? Why he did it, however, was a mystery and Letho’s oversized opponent made certain that it remained a mystery. All it took was a kick and a stomp and the bloodsucker with the crossbow was turned into nothing but a pile of smoking ashes under the boot of the titan.

Letho would’ve felt sorry for the man if the fallen archer was in fact a man and if there was time for regret. However, as it was, the guard was an accursed nightprowler and the situation dictated a fierce tempo in which there was no place for emotions. A quick intervention of his adamantine blade freed the swordsman of the metal prison, leaving him in his significantly less impressive prison rags. But by then, the overgrown barbarian already set his sights back on the original target, charging towards the Marshal like a one-beast stampede. Letho waited calmly. The arena thundered with the sound of the hasty footsteps and the growls of the agitated behemoth. Letho waited and counted the long steps that his opponent made. And when the scowling face of the colossus eclipsed the sky and the hill of flesh seemed destined to crush the puny ranger, Letho finally moved.

He timed his movement flawlessly, waiting for that last step to determine which way to roll in order to evade the shoulder tackle. As it turned out, the giant stepped out with his left, making Letho dart to the right and below the wall-crushing impact. But the swordsman didn’t stop there. With his agility restored, it was easy to slip through the titan’s spread legs, slicing the back of his shin, then ducking below the blind backhand arc before making a high diagonal cut that drew blood from below the tunic that covered his opponent’s hip. And each time he drew blood, the satisfaction of the crowd came down on him in a wave of cheers. It was supposed to be easy from that point on. It wasn’t.

There was a common misconception that went around that stated that giants were all rather unintelligent ogres that waved oversized weapons in order to compensate for the undersized brain. The truth was significantly different. Instead of continuing his blundering charging attacks that brought more harm then good, the titan withdrew a bit once he recovered from the collision with the wall. The fingers of both his hands wrapped around the warhammer before he cautiously approached his inferior opponent. He was limping now, blood cascading down his left leg before soaking up the sand. And there was a peculiar look in his large gray eyes, the kind that Letho saw before, the kind that a man fighting for his life had. It was the look that Letho had in his own eyes.

And it was harder then the swordsman thought it would be. Sitting on his cot and pondering on the upcoming battles, it was easy to say with determination that he was ready to do whatever it took in order to win. But looking into the reflection of his own emotions in the eyes of his opponent made him feel treacherous somehow, as if he was stabbing himself and his own ideals in the back. He thought survival justified murdering whoever stood in his path. So did his opponent. Death was the judge that would decide who was right and who was wrong.

The giant came at Letho with another horizontal swipe and he knew that in order to bring his opponent down, he would have to get to higher ground. A chance to do just that came after ducking below the attack. The enormous hammer came at him once again, this time in an attempt to crush him from above. The bearded swordsman jumped back just enough to evade the strike before moving directly back at his foe. His foot stepped on the head of the hammer just as the titan tried to retrieve it. As a result, Letho was propelled upwards and towards the surrounding wall. Unlike The Letho who had the catlike reflexes that ensured safe landing, the swordsman missed the ledge and landed into a pack of vampires. Some shoved him back, some barred their fangs at the scent of the fresh blood on his adamantine blade, but soon enough Letho was standing on the crown of the wall, finally able to look down towards his opponent.

The colossus didn’t seem to like that. His hammer moved once again, striking more then enough fear into the spectators to make them scatter like rats on a sinking ship. It missed the Marshal once again though, but the tremor it caused as it shattered a portion of the wall disrupted Letho’s balance just enough to prevent him from countering immediately. Instead he had a follow-up to handle, the sweeping motion bound to knock him off his feet and off the wall. With less then a fraction of a second for deliberating on what to do, Letho was left with no option but to get hammered, but unluckily for the giant, the swordsman knew how to make the best out of taking a hit.

Instead of allowing the impact to knock him away, Letho clung to the shaft of the weapon that knocked most of the air out of his lungs. Seeing the human holding on to the shaft of his weapon, the giant moved the hammer upwards like an axe, preparing it for another vertical smash that was bound to shake his opponent off his weapon. However, as the weapon reached its highest peak above the titan’s head, Letho let go. This time he was flying upwards and behind his opponent, giving him a perfect window of opportunity to take a shot at the undefended back of the colossus. With a jerk of every single muscle of his flying body, the Marshal managed to spin his body just enough to send his adamantine blade spinning in the opposite direction. The mass was silent, awestricken. The bastard sword spun thrice before leveling up and turning into a darting bullet. It cut through air with a whistle and through the flesh and bone of the giant with a wet mushy sound, pinning the heart of the titan against the unhewn stone of the wall.

The landing was less gracious then Letho would’ve liked, but he managed to survive it without broken bones and dislocated limbs as he crashed against the soil. The silence remained for a while still, until the dust settled and presented the victor of the night’s battle, and once they saw the battered figure of the blademaster, they cheered. As if they won themselves.

[Lavinian Pride]

The bloody end to the bout was announced in a chorus of cheers as the crowd saw the gruesome spectacle. Even as the guards began to rush Letho back Sarah calmed down as she looked at Seth. The Demon was once again sitting down and resting, his gaze averted from anyone. As she continued to watch him she finally spoke her words soft, "How does it feel?"

She saw Seth snort, before he shifted a bit and replied, "I can't save him every time..."

It was at that moment, after the comment, that she saw the guards bring Letho in and place him in his cage. Her eyes drinking in her surroundings as he leaned against her bars and sighed. Kid shifted next to her as she asked softly, "Sarah, you should rest, it’s getting late, and you know how Cardenas can catch you off guard. You should sleep incase he decides to throw you in first..."

"I know Kid, I know. Give me a minute..." She said as she looked at Seth. Seth continued to avoid her gaze before she spoke, "Perhaps I didn't get the best parts of you, but you sure as hell didn't fight for the better ones..."

Seth snapped his eyes locking with hers before he spoke sharply, "I would appreciate it if you'd just leave me the hell alone right now. I don't need any reminders of how I screwed things up."

"I guess I was wrong, you're still clinging to the past too damn much," Sarah said as she turned to face her cot. Looking at Kid she sighed as she said, "Lets sleep; I don't feel like putting up with Dahlios the Grouch..."

Kid giggled at the name before she spoke, "You're a grouch too you know..."

Sarah blinked; this was the first true showing of personality from Kid. Up until then she had been the little slave who did as she was told and spoke on the best interests of her master. As she looked at Kid she knelt before she smiled, causing Kid to frown as she said, "Sarah, what is it?"

"You're just right, that’s all. We members of the Dahlios clan are a bunch of sourpusses, and don't you forget that..." Sarah said sternly before she winked playfully at Kid, clapping her on the shoulder in a motherly way as she brought the girl to the bed getting ready for the night.

"This sourpuss is trying to sleep," The grumbling voice of Seth muttered as he relaxed. However, as Sarah tried to relax and prepare for sleep the door opened, as two guards moved to the Demon's cell. Between them was the Priestess, her gaze solemn as she focused on Seth.

The guards barked causing Seth to sit up before they opened the door and shoved her inside it, before slamming it shut, "Ten minutes. Say your goodnights and be done with it..."

[Liliana Ambria]

She was pushed through the arena, treated as nothing more than a slave. They pushed her through corridors, down passageways, barely decent and easily meant to provoke thoughts far form the purity she once draped herself in. As she finally reached the cells the door opened with finality. Closing her eyes she sighed as she looked upon Seth, brooding in his cage, much as any predator who knew better than to pace the bars. Her gaze sorrowful as she began came to a halt outside his cell.

As she was pushed in and the ten minutes given she sat next to Seth as she looked at him. His eyes averted before she gently cupped his cheek and pulled his eyes to hers. His grey eyes were bottomless. They seemed to draw her in as she could almost feel his sorrow and grief. Pressing her forehead to his she spoke softly, "Don't do that to me again Seth."

Seth shifted uncomfortably as he tried to move before he whispered softly, "I can't do it anymore Liliana. It’s not my place in this-"

She cut him off with a single word, "Stop." As he looked curiously into her brown compassionate eyes she spoke firmly, "You need to let it go Seth. It hangs around your neck like a scarlet letter. You have two choices, and if you want to get us out of here there's only one left." Her hand gently slid so it was resting on his shoulder, "You need to either live here in the present, or condemn all of us to die here..."

Seth locked eyes with her as he felt her soothing him. The guilt abated under the constant pressure of her feelings towards him. The tangible aura of her peaceful emotions stretched out to the few nearby cells as she continued to sit next to him, leeching the hostility from the very air itself. While she continued to look upon him she whispered, "I don't know about you, but I want to get out of here and get to Lavinya, what say you?"

"I'll try..." Seth began before she pressed a finger firmly against his lips.

"No Seth, there is no try. You have to let it go, trying got us this far, but I won't let it cripple you at the wrong moment again. Demon was right; you are weak, only because you're afraid of your strength. Embrace it Seth, don't shun it..."

"It nearly killed you..." Seth said as he gestured to her shoulder, where his inner demons had stabbed her with Ebony, giving her a painfully clear message of what they thought of her and his relationship.

"And losing you for the better part of a year nearly killed me again. I didn't know if you were dead or alive. I couldn't even say if you were safe or rotting in some dank prison. I refuse to let you lose yourself to your own mind games. You can do this Seth, you can be yourself, and not become a murdering psycho with nothing better to do than attack an orphanage because a kid looked at him wrong," She said as she gave him a mischievous smirk.

"I swear that orphanage attacked me," Seth replied softly as he let out a small smile, the true Seth Dahlios revealed before them. His gentle actions, acerbic wit, and a bit of the old pride returned as he straightened himself out.

She then sighed as she said softly, "Good, now lets give Cardenas Hell, I'm sure you're on his list of things to yell at..." She then gave him a soft kiss as she began to pull away before his arms wrapped instinctively around her. As he kissed her back it was hungry and deep, showing the strength he had left as he tried to keep a hold on her as long as he could. A soft moan escaped her as the sudden treatment before she pulled back and whispered; "Not now Seth, the kids are watching..."

He gave her a wink as he saw the guards coming before he said, "Alright, let’s see how we do tomorrow..."

(If you wish for a quick time with Myrhia or anythign feel free. Take us to the next evening...)

[Letho]

“Well, this is certainly a day reserved for disappointment,” Lord Carendas voiced his thoughts to no one in particular, leant gracefully against the backrest of his throne-like chair in his lofty loge, swirling a goblet of blood in his hand gently. Despite the ovation of the crowd that continued even once Letho was escorted out of the arena and the workers peeled off the bloody corpse of the giant off the wall, the vampire was unsatisfied with the performance shown. First, Seth and Luc gave him a rather bland face-off in which only one party seemed interested in actually drawing blood. Letho’s encounter with the colossus was supposed to wash out the bitter taste out of his mouth, but instead it just added more bile. “I expected a lot more from such a far-famed man.”

“He did what you forced him to do. What more do you want of him?” Myrhia couldn’t stifle saying, her usually sweet tone notably acrimonious. She had been silent for the duration of the battle, chewing her lip the way she always did when she was nervous, unable to even stand on one spot calmly while her lover fought against a superior opponent. But now that he was safe and the battle was over and her heart ceased beating like that of a rabbit on a run, she couldn’t stop herself from speaking.

“I want more. He was supposed to decimate that oaf, not struggle like some weakling. If I wanted to see mediocrity in my arena, I would’ve hired a dozen barbarians from any arena in Althanas,” the vampire said, finally sparing a look on the scantly-clad redhead. She was by no means the most beautiful lass he had ever seen; even Seth’s rather plain-looking lover superseded this scrawny girl. And yet there was something about her that drew a cryptic smirk on his face. Perhaps it was the innocence in her eyes that she spread with every look, the innocence that made her look almost unblemished. The innocent whose death he wanted to see.

“He’s not as strong as he used to be,” Myrhia said, drawing her eyes away from those of the vampire. For some reason, it seemed to her that Carendas was able to see below her attire. “Can I go to him now?”

The suave bloodsucker made a faux pondering expression before responding. “I think not. I can’t reward my fighters for performing badly. No, I think Letho needs some time to think. You, on the other hand, can accompany me in my quarters and tell me all about why legendary Letho Ravenheart is merely a shadow of his former self.” He paused, gave Myrhia another one of those looks that made her pale skin crawl. She feared of what would happen in Carednas’ quarters. She feared that it would be Scara Brae again, and the hell of a stuffy basement where countless soldiers tormented her and ravaged her lithe body.

“What if I don’t want to go with you?” she barely managed to squeeze past her lips.

“I don’t know. Maybe something strange happens to Letho. He could maybe stumble and fall on his own blade. Or he could eat some poisoned food. Or he could just wind up locked in a cell whose key I lost somewhere.” It was an answer that made it clear that Carendas wasn’t asking her to join him, he wasn’t telling her to join him. He was ordering it.

***

Letho was brought back to his cell with all the accompanying insults and mockery that befitted a warrior that failed to perform as expected. He walked out as Letho the Great, Letho the Mythical Hero, Letho the One-Man-Legion and walked back as Letho the Beggar King. Not that the swordsman cared a whole lot. He wasn’t hit by the giant many times, but it was enough to make his insides feel like mush and his head like an overripe melon. He was tired, his ribcage felt as if it was going to implode and his knees were apt to turn to jelly if he remained on his feet for too long. In such a condition, his shabby cot looked like a bedroll made of feathers and clouds. He didn’t even mind the prattling Dahlios twins that were at it again, that always seemed to be at each other’s throats for some reason. Maybe Carendas would see it fit to settle this squabble once and for all and pit them against each other. Or maybe not. Either way, it was none of Letho’s concern.

Despite the day slowly breaking outside of his window, paling the pitch-black sky more and more with each minute, Letho fell asleep as if it was the dead of the night and he was a horse that was ridden hard and put away wet.

[Lavinian Pride]

Boot steps echoed down the hallways as Light turned to darkness. The night of the third day the group of new slaves had arrived. The Dahlios twins were already causing a buzz and a spectacle. The Vampiric Court itself was commenting on the brooding Lavinian, and the sassy thrall. How they had come to be was a true mystery, for many at the court knew of Dahlios, and the fact he had no true family anymore. Where they cousins? Were they sister and brother? Ex lovers? The questions continued to fly about the Arena as Cardenas stood in contemplation.

His back however was to someone he knew he shouldn’t ever give the chance. The Son of Mordechai stood behind him his gaze penetrating the arena as he looked about before he spoke, "I would like to join you in the pits this evening."

Cardenas twirled in position the look of shock uncontained as he spoke, "You know Dahlios would attack you on sight. Is that a wise-"

"I would like to join you in the pits tonight."

Cardenas looked at the Homunculi before him, his gaze penetrating that of his fellow traitor. Finally with a sigh he spoke, "If that is what you wish, I cannot guarantee your safety."

"Dahlios is not as stupid as you assume. He after all has survived this long alone and free. Further, he knows what you hold of his, his lover makes for complete dormancy of him, if only for her sake," Kycoo returned.

Cardenas sighed as he nodded. He then moved to lead the Son of Mordechai through the arena before two guards joined him, used to the routine by now. Their gate even with their lord's they didn't comment on the visitor. Questions were punished, and answers were often more cryptic than the situation. As they Lead their lord through the halls they finally came to a stop at the doors.

Once the doors were open Cardenas once again clanged against the bars of the nearby Cells, waking up the entirety of the pits. His noise was loud and clear cutting through many people's sleep before he spoke, "Listen up you degenerate filth. We have a guest today, treat him with respect."

Sarah awoke with a groan as he pulled herself up. Looking down at Kid's sleeping figure she chuckled as he slipped from the bed and dropped the meager blanket around her letting her sleep. There was no reason to force her awake, and if she had the fortune of sleeping through the brash wakeup call, what right was it of Sarah's to deny Kid of a bit of rest. However as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes she heard the boot steps of the so called guest of the arena. As she watched the figure come around the bend she bit her tongue to avoid the insults that would have surely flung from her mouth. Kycoo, Mordechai's mistake was there.

Those penetrating grey eyes focused on her for a bit, even as the bald head shined in the torchlight. He seemed to be studying and when he finished he spoke, "Helena would be proud of her children. Brood of Dahlios, I have not had the luxury of meeting you, though I have met your counterpart..."

"If you could call that a luxury," Sarah said tartly. She technically had no beef with the monstrosity. However, the grudge of Seth carried on, for it was this monster's fault that their parents were dead, and she was here. It was this thing's interference that caused Seth to venture down the road to Self destruction.

"Ah, I find your sass refreshing, it shows not all Dahlios are mindless killing machines, your ancestor would be proud of you..." Kycoo spoke. A genuine smile alit his face, but offered nothing more for her to gauge him by.

"I'd be careful what you say, the mindless killing machine, as you so pleasantly put it, is behind you, and he doesn't look very happy."

Kycoo chuckled as he said, "I will imagine so."

[Dissinger]

"How about you turn around and find out rather than imagine anything," The voice came bitter and angry. A hint of the shattered and trampled pride of the Lavinian began to surface as he shouted out his challenge to the Homunculus. As Kycoo Turned and looked over at his shoulder he sighed as he finally turned to face him. Kycoo Straightened up so not to show any weakness before the Lavinian as he took a forceful step forward.

"Ah, Brood of Dahlios-" He began, before Seth cut him off.

"I have a name."

Cardenas had finally managed to get beside the Homunculi as he witnessed the acts of Defiance by his charge. Mumbling under his breath he took his cane and knocked the bars hard, finally waking Kid from her slumber as the entirety of the Pit looked on in silence. Cardenas was the one to speak, "He is a guest of the Arena, you would do well to remember that and hold your tongue."

Seth looked at Cardenas with a poisonous glare before the Homunculi rose a hand to steady both men. His voice was calm and diplomatic, "After all I have done to the boy, even I cannot blame his hostility. After all, I drove him to perhaps the most cardinal of sins. To turn on his own family, so painful, even the repercussions were brutal."

"You'd know all about that wouldn't you," Seth challenged.

Kycoo smiled as he said, "You are perhaps the most stubborn individual I have met. I have seen the reserve and restraint, the way you try to keep your power in check. It is an admirable act, considering your Lover's life being on the line. I would expect a man of the name Demon to be a bit more, barbaric."

"Life's full of disappointments. Just ask Cardenas about that one..." Seth replied his voice a bit cocky as he tried to push the man to battle. Cardenas seemed to grip his cane tightly as he longed to destroy the man his Father had told him not to. As he moved to turn to a guard Kycoo's hand clamped down on Cardenas causing the man to turn a bit of irritation showing through the normally cool demeanor.

"Cyril, brother, please do not take his bait. He is looking for your anger, for your suffering. He suffers, so he in turn tries to cause suffering. It strengthens him, it makes him feel stronger to know that he can survive more than anyone else. For him, the game is in the mind, he wants you to give in, to give up the chance he gives you. Its all he has anymore, since he has lost everything, except that which you have stolen from him," Kycoo said as he smiled calmly at Seth.

Seth was on his feet and at the bars as he slammed against them, his anger unleashed as he growled out, "Give me the chance you son of a bitch, give me that fucking chance and I'll rip you apart."

"Two days, in two days Son of Dahlios. If you can last those two days, you may have your chance at me. Until then, I suggest you focus on the path ahead of you, because I would be loathe to face you unprepared," Kycoo said his face calm, as Cardenas looked at him concerned. However, as Kycoo turned to go Sarah's voice called out;

"I want that shot!"

Finally Cardenas was in control of the situation as he turned and faced to second Dahlios sibling. The thrall was at the bars calmly waiting, her eyes looking at Seth as she said it. With a sigh on his face he spoke, "You know the rules Sarah, are you sure you want that?"

"I want the shot. I don't care about the damn rules," Sarah replied as Kid looked up at Sarah scared.

Cardenas sighed as he said, "Tomorrow, you can have your chance at it tomorrow. Seth already has been planned for a fight tonight, and even I am not that cruel."

Seth looked at Cardenas almost as if finally seeing him as he tried to penetrate the man's facade. Finally Cardenas chuckled as he said, "Since you seem so apt to not play by the rules, you can live and die with Ravenheart today. By the way..." He then tossed forward something to Seth the clattered at his feet. The blackened Lung popper from yesterday laid at rest, dull in the light. "Should one of you fail the other does as well. Enjoy your fight boys, you have only a little while before its up."

[Letho]

Letho woke up to the same sound that he had fallen asleep with – Seth’s and Sarah’s yammering. This time their voices were louder, more agitated somehow, and they weren’t alone in the heated argument. One of the additional voices - the eerily calm and suave one - the Marshal recognized even before opening his eyes. The other one, however, that sounded much more menacing was unknown to the swordsman. Not even when he lifted his heavy eyelids and introduced his eyes to the dim illumination of the holding cells and the strange visitor did Letho recognize the man. The bald man seemed to be in league with Lord Carendas, debating something with the Dahlios twins. Some of the words Letho caught, but his lack of interest in the history of the Lavinians combined with the soreness made him disregard most of the conversation as irrelevant. From what he could gather, the bald man was there to pick a fight and both Sarah and Seth wanted a piece of him for some reason. It smelled like old beef to Letho.

By the time the four were done, the muscular Marshal managed to evict most of the drowsiness from his system and sit at the edge of his cot. Unlike in numerous post-battle situations, his head was rather clear; it was his body that felt a bit awry. Getting kicked and flung by giants had a bad tendency to do that to a man. Still, his creaky joints weren’t enough to stop Letho from addressing Cyril Carendas as he and his shiny-headed friend walked past his cell.

“Hey! Yeah, you,” the Marshal shouted, standing up and approaching the bars. The bald man kept walking, uninterested, but there was far too much audacity in Letho’s voice for the vampire to let it slide. He stopped, turned his head sideways and met the eyes of a prisoner with cryptic suavity of a man that was your best friend but slept with your wife. “I killed your damn giant. I want to see Myrhia now.”

Lord Carendas appreciated neither the tone nor the words not one bit, but his smarmy face remained on as he replied. “If you could only understand the exiguity of your performance, you would realize that you’re in no position to make demands. But...” he paused, sighing and masking himself with faux kindness. “I’m a generous person. I’ll send her down, but you better show me some of that legendary might or it might be the last time you see her.” With that said, the vampire glided down the hall and out of sight with a satisfied smirk on his face. He knew that Letho didn’t have the telltale power anymore; Myrhia told him all about it yesterday. But unlike the pair, he knew that the lost might wasn’t gone for good. No, it slept within the Marshal, like a dormant volcano, waiting for the day of the awakening. And when that happened, Carendas was finally going to have a worthy candidate to enthrall.

When Myrhia made her way to the holding cells several minutes after the vampire left, her tempting outfit was the same, but her posture was different. She walked in hunched and hugging her own torso, daring to look up only when the guard unlocked the door and pushed her into Letho’s cage. “Myri, what’s wrong?” her bearded lover asked, but when he embraced her lithe body, she recoiled and whimpered. “Did he do something to you? Myrhianna, look at me. Did he hurt you?” he asked, searching for her glassy emerald eyes.

She didn’t reply. But when she sat on his cot, he could see the fresh scabs below her translucent outfit. They were whip marks, crisscrossed on her back, at least half-a-dozen of them. “THAT BASTARD!!” Letho bawled, hitting his fist against the iron bars. “I swear to you, Myri, I’m going to make him pay.”

“You... You need to do better today, Letho,” Myrhia said in a feeble, broken voice. She knew full well that he gave his best yesterday, that he would always give his best, and that was why it hurt so much to tell him he had to do better. “You need to do better because he said it’s going to get worse if you don’t,”

“I will,” was the only thing Letho was able to say, breathing through his nose like a raging bull, balling his fists until his joints turned white and gritting his teeth until his jaw hurt. Only when her cold fingers found their way to his hands the bulky Marshal relaxed a little bit.

“It’s alright. It’s not as bad as it looks.” It really was and Letho knew it. It’s not as bad as it looks was his phrase that he liked to use what things were pretty damn bad, but he didn’t want her to know it. “Come, sit down and just hold me. I have something to tell you.”

***

This time around, instead of having Myrhia with him in the armory, it was Seth Dahlios that accompanied Letho while he armed himself. The Lavinian was to be his ally this time around, the guards told him, and together they were to face another ‘surprise’. The Marshal didn’t care one way or the other. The ‘surprise’ could’ve been gods themselves and he wouldn’t care. The sight of Myrhia’s back tainted by dark red marks and her wavering voice begging him to do better were the fuel that set his insides on fire.

“Ironic,” Letho said, browsing through the displayed armors. He disregarded all the shiny crap this time around; one of these glorious-looking metal buckets almost got him killed the last time. This time he picked up a nondescript black leather jerkin that he pulled over his head before he started tightening the straps on the side. “I can’t recall how many we stood on opposite sides, Dahlios, and yet now that we have to fight to salvage our very lives, we are to fight together.”

“You better don’t hold back like the last time,” the Marshal added, picking up his bastard sword and finding it clean of the giant’s blood. “If Myrhia gets whipped again just because you grew a conscience and we don’t put up enough of a show, I’m going to kill you myself.”

It was the anger talking, seeping through every pore of Letho’s being and pouring itself into his voice. Letho knew that in his clear mind, he wouldn’t actually do what he said, but anger was a fickle thing. It mudded both the eyes and the mind and when it surfaced, anything could happen. Both of them knew that. Seth had a fancy name for that anger and called it the ‘demon’, but it all boiled down to the same thing. Breaking free of your inhibitions and let go to the bestial part of yourself.

“So, who was that cueball back in the cells?”

[Dissinger]

"You should know better than to threaten me Ravenheart, its only going to get you pissed off even more than usual," Seth replied. His heart still beat quickly as he felt the residual hatred leaving his system. However he felt further justification was in order, "Besides, I try to be an honest man who goes through life not murdering, and now when we're in dire predicaments its okay to murder so long as it keeps you alive? I think you're showing a bit of Demon's thinking on that one. Where do you draw that line you love to push in my face Letho?"

He stopped as he knew that Letho had it rougher than him. Seth could endure a bit more than the Coronian Ranger, if only because he simply endured too much to begin with. He knew he could probably berate his sudden shift in morality, but it would only make it a dangerous fight for him. If Letho turned on him, he was going to be in a rather difficult position, lawmaker or not. The man knew his way around his weapons, and like Seth, refused to give up until he had pummeled his opponent into submission or death.

Then he mentioned Kycoo.

Seth sighed as he laced up his boots tightly in silence, a bit of that hatred returning as it burned a hole in his chest. Kycoo represented so much to him, the scapegoat of all his troubles. Still he sighed before he spoke, his voice tired, "He's a mistake I made, when I was as depraved as the crowd we entertain now. I set him free hoping to get the amulet at his neck, hoping that time had made him too weak to defend himself. Just like all mistakes made of pride, I fell hard, and now I suffer the repercussions by having no family other than Sarah."

It was odd saying that phrase. He still wasn't sure what Sarah represented. Was she a sister? A twin, or was she something else? It was so confusing to figure out her relation to him, though he was more than certain it wouldn't be resolved anytime soon. It would take time and thought before he could accept Sarah and be at peace with the idea of her running around. Still he knew he would have to figure it out soon or else he would probably never get the chance.

Once the boots were tightly laced he sighed as he put on the old belt. He was more than content to simply let whatever came come. Armor was too restrictive and he had no ability to wear it. He wasn't a trained knight like Letho, though Knight might have been a loose term now as he spied that Letho only took a leather breastplate in the stead of the full plate suits.

Looking at his Gauntlets he sighed as he re-laced them, making sure they were tight. The crowd seemed to be in a frenzy as he felt somewhere deep in his heart a cold satisfaction. Here he was approved of; here he was accepted for who he was. Here he was also a slave. Something he abhorred more than the predicament he was in. There was no moral pathway through this, and by the end of the night, to protect Liliana he would probably have to sink into depravity once more, and pull out his parlor tricks of death.

A shudder went down his spine as he could feel Demon deep within him, laughing at the prospect of the blood to come...

As the guards came in and took them through the arena they finally came out into the chilly night. The crowd was thundering their approval as Seth merely kept focus forward. Cardenas was standing atop the overhang, overlooking the spectacle he had prepared. So was Kycoo and the two women that mattered most to the two gladiators. Seth only bothered to look at Liliana hoping she would forgive him for what he was about to do.

He himself couldn't kill, and refused to do so, it wasn't in his nature anymore. That nature was reserved for the Demon. As he closed his eyes he beckoned the Demon forth as he made a deal he knew he would rot in hell an eternity for.

"You're what?" Was the reply of the killer, still hysterical at the predicament.

"Go play, I don't have the stomach to do this anymore. I'd be you eventually, better sooner rather than later," Seth replied calmly.

"What’s the catch?" Demon replied.

"None, kill to your hearts content. Do it as bloody and gruesome as you want. Make a spectacle of yourself. Only know I will stop you from trying to kill the Ranger, and that after the fight, after you've sated your bloodlust, I'll be taking back control."

"Deal," The Demon said as he took control, the switch subtle to most, except those that knew him. Not those that knew of him, but truly knew him. The demeanor changed as instead of hunched and submissive a bit of pride swelled making him stand upright. His gaze was penetrating and cold. His whole walk had turned even cocky as he spun in a circle appealing to the crowd, much to their delight.

~*~

Liliana stood in the room with Cardenas and Myrhia. The girl seemed cowed, submissive and shy. Perhaps it was Cardenas' very presence, but she knew that something was wrong with the red head. Still Cardenas seemed to be pleased as Seth began to rile up the crowd with his antics. Something had changed. As if a performer stepping on stage, Seth had changed completely. It was noticeable to her as she could see no trace of the man she loved down there.

"Good, he's accepting his fate. Perhaps now the spectacles I promised can begin," Was Cardenas' response to it. He was more concerned with finally fulfilling his promises rather than the safety of any of his gladiators. If they died, all the better, he would get renowned for being a Legend killer and the arena would pour in with more and more of the Vampiric elite.

Kycoo however remained calm as he simply looked out in the arena. He then turned, and looked at Liliana, his piercing gaze looking through her before he said calmly, "He will survive, he will not let the darkness claim him for long."

Liliana wasn't sure if she felt reassured or even more scared at the prophetic statement. However she remained calm and sure as she nodded and said, "He hates the darkness. I don't see him sticking around too long."

Kycoo smiled as he chuckled and said, "When he has such a beacon of light, it is no wonder he can not stay in it for long..."

Liliana only shivered as a hand went protectively to her stomach. She wasn’t sure what games Kycoo was playing, but that gaze, that piercing gaze was making her uneasy. It was as if he knew her secrets, laid bare before her like an open book. Still she remained as calm as she could before she looked on.

[Letho]

“Enigmatic and defiant as per usual.”

Seth Dahlios was the type of person that would give a straight answer no more then he would keep his tongue tucked behind his teeth. He retorted in an abrasive tone, replying to a threat with an accusation, and regardless of how much Letho wanted to punch the Lavinian in the face for being a cocky bastard, he couldn’t deny the fact that Seth had a point. Where was that line that he drew, that he prided himself with? Where had all the morals and knightly ideals gone? They were supposed to shine the brightest when the situation was dire, and yet here he was, standing at the brink of another battle, and he was coercing Seth into loosing the infamous Demon once again. But then he remembered Myrhia, he remembered the scars on her back, and he remembered that he would sell his soul for the redhead. Compared to that, discarding his morals was a small price to pay.

The words that were supposed to explain the presence of this new hairless villain were vague at best, something about a mistake that backfired on the thief because of pride - nothing unusual for a life riddled with mistakes and pride. The silence that followed made it clear that neither of them wanted to elaborate on that. Seth seemed reluctant to disclose more information and Letho wasn’t keen on getting tangled into some personal vendetta. And besides, there was no more time for palavering.

A quartet of vampires in matching uniforms came for them, escorting them out of the armory and down the stuffy tunnels that smelled of dirt and death. The indistinctive murmur that crept all the way to the ready room was growing with each step they took and by the time they reached the doors that opened into the arena, it was recognizable. It exploded once the doors opened. The crowd was there just like last night, thousands of them hooting for satiation of their perverse cravings. They were like a human ocean, breathing, moving, never resting, consuming the grandstands, greeting the night’s performers as if they were in a theatre. And in a way they were; the arena was a theatre of death.

While the brooding swordsman was usually unimpressed by the atmosphere, Seth seemed to bask in it. Letho hadn’t paid much attention on his scoundrel companion, but once they stepped out of the tunnels and into the flickering xanthous illumination of the magical torches, he could see a distinct change in the thief. He was saluting the crowd, welcoming their cheers with a menacing glint in his eyes and a devilish smirk on his face. It didn’t take long for the Marshal to recognize the change. Whatever he said back in the armory seemed to have effect, because it was the dark side of the Lavinian that showed up for the tonight’s show. And it was eager to oblige the fans. Compared to him, Letho waited for their opposition in a much more conservative manner, standing beside his ostentatious companion with one hand at the belt of his pants and the other on the brandished blade. They seemed so different right then and there, opposites joined in a temporary alliance, but regardless of how much he denied it, there were many parallels that could be drawn between the two combatants. Far too many for Letho’s liking.

On the other side of the arena, another set of heavy doors started opening. Just like the day before, there was no ceremony, no thundering announcements, no psyching of the mass. There was no need for such antics. Everybody present was already playing their roles. Just like the three minotaurs that stepped through the stone arch would.

The trio of beasts was considerably smaller then the titan Letho faced the day before, but what they lacked in size, they made up in sheer ferocity. There was rage in their eyes, the senseless, rabid kind that existed only for being unleashed, the kind that erased every shred of humanity from these bipedal monsters. Their heavy armor was unsightly, brutish, bitten by rust, its dents testifying of numerous battles it endured, but it seemed not to hamper their movement. Their weapons varied; one wielded the rather cut-and-dry human-sized pair of battleaxes, the other a curved greatsword with a scimitar-shaped blade and a tower shield, the third a pair of two-foot talons. They all had an additional weapon - a pair of horns that seemed to be made from metal instead of bone. Their hoofed legs stomped, their long faces snorted, their throats growled. They were preparing their bloody stampede.

“Wizards, giants, minotaurs...”, Letho spoke grimly, his voice barely hearable between the roar of the crowd and the roars of the bull-headed beasts. “I reckon they’ll have a dragon or two tomorrow.”

But there was no more time to talk. With a final growl directed to the starry sky, the threesome of minotaurs began their charge towards their puny opponents, riding the wave of exclamations and cheers that descended from the stands.

[Dissinger]

"Let them come, I'll kill them till I'm satisfied," Seth growled out as the excitement was released into his voice. His heart beat excitedly at the prospect of these new foes, he had fought a Minotaur once before, but they had been drastically under skilled. These seemed more than capable of keeping up the crowd’s excitement as he dismembered them. Drawing his daggers, and with an artistic flare he rolled to the side to avoid the Minotaur as they charged towards the warriors.

A laugh lit his lips as he spoke out to Letho, "Wager on the first kill? Or shall we just tally the bodies at the end of it?" It was a jocular tone that came from him as he once again saw the weapons and armor of the Minotaur. He now could see the rust, the ill kept armor, the weapons however, were far better condition. It was obvious the idea. The armor wasn't kept up, because it didn't need to be. Between the glinting horns and the weaponry they chose, they got the job done, if not brutally.

The crowd was a sea of voices as they all cried for blood, They varied their tones, their calls and their jubilant cries, but it was all the same. They were the chorus, the cacophony that sang to Seth every moment of his life. They were the choir that corrupted and compelled him. That drove him to depravity. The siren's and the traitors. The very heart and soul of the Demon on display before all that looked.

As the bulls finished their charge they seemed to get a hold of themselves. The one with the two axes pointed with the one that had talons. They seemed all to keen on taking a piece of Letho out to give to the vampiric audience. The one with the shield however, came for Seth as it roared a challenge. Seth laughed as he waited the beast bringing his sword down to cleave him in half. Jumping back he overestimated the jump and sighed as he realized he was too far back to capitalize yet.

Looping a finger through the ring of a lung popper he swung it around his finger idly before he taunted, "Show me where it hurts, and I'll cure all your ailments..." Focusing on his magic his mind came to a halt on one spell, one gift of his heritage that would make the Minotaur forget its problems. With a grin he shouted out in a carnal roar, "Life is passing you by!"

Grey energy arced almost as if it came from the very audience. The show was beginning to draw their attention as they continued their exultant cries. Chants had begun extolling the two humans, while others countered with a simpler chant, one that seemed to chill and haunt. Some called simply for death itself, asking the blessed angel of their existence to come forth and grace them with a death truly to be remembered.

As the energy arced through Seth's body he grinned as he sheathed Ebony, bringing his hand up palm facing the very heavens. His eyes held a malicious glint as the energy arced between fingers, gathering and coalescing. His hair on end as the magical ball of the very essence of time itself formed in his hands. The Minotaur, not stupid enough to let an opponent attempt magic without trying to stop it itself attacked by bringing itself into another charge forward behind the shield.

Grinning he fired the energy forward as he took the blow. The sound of him hitting the shield resounding through the arena as the bull cried in triumph shoving him back. Seth's body sent careening through the air as he tumbled, less than gracefully. As he finally collided with the earth the bull was shocked to see he could not follow up his charge by trampling, as the Thief had done something to him. It felt as if a river was washing against him, forcing him back as it slowed his very movement to a crawl.

Laughing the Demon spat blood from his mouth as the crowd cried out in exultation at the first blood. It had been a daring sacrifice, but there was an old saying that the Lavinian held dear, when it came to the game of murder, First blood, was not as important as Last Blood. Sheathing the other dagger, thankfully still in hand he drew another lung popper and again threaded it in his fingers before he spat, "Lets see how you do with this!"

As he flung the Lung Popper's forward he sent them to vital spots, not on the chest, for hoping to punch through a rusted plate was shaky at best. No, he was going for crippling blows, the blows of cat and mouse. Vampires were known for their love of blood. It was why Seth let the blood trail from his lips undisturbed. It was why he sought to cripple. To entertain the people of the night, you needed to make it filled with what they desired most, the blood of the living.

[Letho]

Letho’s initial reaction, when noting the fleet advance of the three minotaurs, was to charge right back at them. They were impressive beasts with an even more impressive momentum, but the ratio of brain and brawn was strongly in favor of the latter. He could clash with them, keep close, show them what the brute power was all about. And then he remembered that he no could longer stand toe-to-toe with the power of that magnitude. The bludgeoning, head-on approach that he practiced for years wouldn’t work here, not if he wanted to leave the arena with head still attached to his neck. Instead he had to pussyfoot, play a game of dodge until a chance opened up for an effective counterstrike. And the game began with surviving the first strike.

Unlike Seth, Letho wasn’t left with an option to merely roll away from the rushing minotaurs. There were two of them coming at him, keeping him locked in the crosshairs between their horns, and instead of trying to jump to either left or right, the swordsman hit the deck between the pair. The reflexive swipe of the left talon went high and above him, just as one of the axes from the right, but the other sliced low and managed to catch him just below the shoulder. It was a rather insignificant cut, barely deep enough to reach the muscle of his arm, but the blood that oozed from it seemed to permeate a scent that the vampires acknowledged almost instantly. The segment of the stands closest to Letho was on their feet, their fists clenched and raised, their voices sending a round of ovation for first blood. The bull-headed pair, inspired by the reaction of the mass, responded with a roar.

Letho smirked as he pulled himself up to one knee; he could profit from this blood-induced frenzy. Changing his sword hand, the Marshal clenched his right fist, forcing even more of the crimson life liquid out of his arm. “Let them think it’s serious. Let them become cocky,” he thought, throwing out his bait by faking a painful expression. Combined with the fair amount of blood dying his skin, it was an invitation that the minotaurs couldn’t resist. The one with battleaxes was more eager of the two, moving in with his arms spread wide, ready for a double slash that was bound to decapitate the wounded human. Letho held his sword up in what looked like an impossible parry.

But the parry never occurred. At the very last moment, Letho’s left flicked the sword skywards, sending it flipping over the minotaur. While his sword took the high parabolic route, its owner took the lower one, rolling over his painful shoulder and between the widely-spread legs of his attacker. He had just enough time to regain his footing before the adamantine blade descended from above, finishing its flight in the palm of Letho’s right. By the time the crowd acknowledged the deft move, Letho brought it down on the minotaur’s back, slicing through the weak metal of the minotaur’s armor, gashing his back from shoulder to waist. It wasn’t a deadly wound – the resistance of the plate prevented a mortal blow – but it was a lot more then a shoulder scratch.

There was no time for the follow up. The horned comrade in arms didn’t seem to appreciate the finesse of Letho’s move, firing swipes with his talons in rapid succession, forcing the swordsman on the defensive. The flawless adamantine blade moved just as fast, though, meeting each blow with a parry, sending sparks flying every time it collided with the lesser metal of the talons. But despite successfully blocking the attacks, there was so much might behind the strikes that it made him feel like he was fending off a tidal wave. Letho knew he couldn’t back away forever. Putting all of his strength behind one of the parrying moves, he deflected the minotaur’s arm sideways just enough to position it for a grab. Letho’s left latched onto the wrist of the beast, but when it tugged on it, it felt like trying to yank a mountain out of position. And then the minotaur yanked back. The backhanded pull sent Letho skidding over the sand of the arena, filling his mouth and his eyes with dirt particles.

By the time the Marshal came to a full stop and coughed the sand out his lungs, he could see the minotaur with twin talons coming after him. What his sand-impaired vision failed to notice was his second foe. While Letho was busy fighting his comrade, the wounded minotaur managed to take off his damaged metal plate. He didn’t discard it though. Instead he sent it flying towards the human. Such was the strength of the throw and the weight of the armor that it threw Letho off his feet like a boulder, knocking the sword out of his hand and sending him down into a prone position.

His head was ringing. His hands pushed against the dirt, but his eyes saw two blurry pairs of them. He knew staying on the ground meant death not only for him, but for Myrhia as well, and yet everything seemed to be moving so fast except for him. How could he allow himself to become so weak, so incompetent? All that was left from that fabled power was a shadow and its darkness was getting ready to end him.

[Dissinger]

As the Bull roared in the indignation of being slowed down Seth chuckled. The Lung Poppers easily sliding into the flesh, causing the muscles on the Minotaur to spasm and release the shield. While the job was half finished, Seth was satisfied even to have that small favor. It hurt to breathe, marking broken or bruised ribs. Ignoring and refuting the pain he was in he waited as the Bull headed warrior attacked bringing the sword down in a cleave to destroy the thief.

A simple sidestep saw the crowd laughing as the attack left a cloud of dust, the blade never coming close as the energies of Slow still held the Minotaur. Using the moment he pulled ebony from its holster and slashed the Minotaur across its arm, instead of cutting across the arm, cutting down it causing the blade to stop only when he reached the elbow and could go no farther. Leaving the blade in the Minotaur the Bull roared in pain. The blade was even now, doubling and redoubling his suffering. As this was cleared Seth's eyes roamed the battlefield. The Minotaur the least of his worries as the beast would probably pass out soon from pain.

However the two bulls that attacked Ravenheart were not as easily dispatched. It was perhaps his saving grace that he had only received one bull to fight. As he watched they had knocked the Ranger off his feet. A growl of irritation left his lips as he saw the charge. Threading his fingers through two lung poppers he clutched the gift of the magi, feeling his ribs solidify and the pain lesson after only a brief hiss of pain form the thief. The grin lit his face as he shouted, "Salt heals all wounds!"

Both lung poppers glowed faintly as he threw them looking the Ranger in the eyes as the blades sped through the air. It was hard to tell exactly what was happening as the blades came close. Was he looking to destroy the Marshall, and end their bitter feud, or was he looking to save him from the hell that he had dug himself? As the blades flew through the air he chuckled letting the smile grow into a full bodied grin as the minotaur behind him slumped and grunted, finally passed out. With no way to pull Ebony out without worsening the pain, he had finally succumbed to the pain.

The lung poppers were only seconds from their target as he pulled Ebony roughly from the downed Minotaur, only stopping to slit the Minotaur’s throat. Not bothering anymore with the now dead corpse time seemed to halt as the blades were now within a foot of Letho, the moment of truth arriving.

Had he killed the Marshall, in the hopes of entertaining the masses? Or had he helped the Marshall, giving him the second chance that he had refused Seth?

[Letho]

By the time Letho noticed the peculiar flicker that zoomed towards him, he was out of options. It was too late and he was too slow for evasion, and the fact that his sword was several feet away from him rendered parrying impossible. The Marshal didn’t even have the time for a thought that would deal with the origin of the blades. Luckily for him, the throwing daggers weren’t intended to hit him. Well, at least one of them wasn’t. One swished past his right ear cleanly, but the other licked his face and set his left cheek on fire. Almost in sync with the new wound, the old one – the insignificant scratch on his shoulder – flared up as well, throbbing like a living organism. It was Seth’s dark magic, Letho realized then, recognizing the effect that the Lavinian used in their heated conflicts. Did the bastard turn on him, his allegiance shot as well as his sanity with the appearance of his demonic face?

The roar of pain behind Letho’s back spoke against the accusation. The axe-wielding minotaur seemed to be regretting the fact that he utilized his armor as a weapon. The throwing dagger was imbedded in his furry chest, but the pain of that particular wound was a pinprick when compared to the one that tore through his back. His twin axes were dropped, his footing lost as he fell onto his knees, all in favor of somehow alleviating this amplified ache that ripped his spine apart.

There was no time for Letho to use this opening, not with the other minotaur coming at him with deadly rage in his eyes, but it did tip the scales in favor of the fallen swordsman. So when his horned opponent came in for the kill again, bringing his talons from above in a stabbing motion, the Marshal already managed to get his bearings and roll away from the strike and towards his sword. No sooner then he picked it up, the minotaur was already looming over him, swinging both of his talons in a motion that was bound to make an ‘X’ sign on Letho’s face. But this time the swordsman was ready. The adamantine blade was put up for the parry, but it was turned sideways at the last moment, making its flat side face the minotaur. The twin talons struck the bastard sword with a pincer attack, sending a numbing vibration down the length of the blade, but their sturdiness failed before the legendary metal. They snapped like a pair of twigs, leaving the bull-faced creature confused and – more importantly – defenseless for a moment.

Letho made use of that moment. Though his knuckles still ached from the quivering that the impact caused, he struck forward with his blade. The screeching sound of metal passing through a narrow metal orifice lasted for only a fraction of a second, preceding the blade that skewered the heart of the beast. But even though it was an efficient was to slay the beast, the crowd wasn’t appeased. Letho knew the reason why. Heart shot was efficient to a fault, taking a life in a very ungory way, making the kill almost bloodless. When the minotaur collapsed with a final exhaling groan, the unentertaining swordsman yanked his blade free of the corpse, but the blood on his blade wasn’t enough for the vampiric population. They cheered him on, pointing towards the practically incapacitated foe that still roared in pain, demanding bloody satisfaction. It made the Marshal smirk almost mockingly.

He approached the kneeling minotaur slowly, followed by the hoots of demands that descended from the stands. The beast snorted in anguish and made a move towards one of the axes, but Letho was on top of it already, kicking first one axe away then the other. The desperate creature lunged with its horns from its downed position, but the bearded swordsman evaded the sloppy move easily, making the minotaur dive into the dirt. And before his foe managed to recover for another attack, Letho’s blade touched the nape of the beast’s neck and his knee landed on the wounded back. His eyes went to the mass, these hungry vultures that waited for him to be their butcher. His left arm was raised to them, goading them to raise their voices even higher. And when they did just that, accentuating their own frenzy, he threw his blade to the ground in disgust.

Instead of giving them what they wanted, what they demanded, what they paid for, Letho stood over the fallen minotaur and wrapped his hands around his horns. The beast refused compliance, but the pain made it weak, enabling the Marshal to turn its head sideways, turn it with all the strength in his muscles, turn it until the bones of the neck did that dull, unhealthy crackling noise that silenced the audience. Letho arms were spread in a questioning gesture for several second before he bawled, his royal voice booming over the arena.

“ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!?!?”

[Dissinger]

"What an idiot," Seth muttered. As he assessed the situation he hunched vomiting the essence of the Gift. As he retched a little to compensate for the healing magicks that had gone through him he wiped his mouth carelessly before he walked over to the Minotaur with two axes. The crowd looked on in utter horror as Seth hefted one of the axes the Minotaur had used. While to the Minotaur it had been only a hand axe, to Seth it was an executioner's axe, large and heavy.

"Let me show you how it’s done Ravenheart..." He said the hint of malice in his voice leaving no room for the Marshall to talk as he brought the axe above his head. With the hard part of breaking the monster's neck done the axe cut through the muscles of its throat with ease, spraying the Demon in blood. A chuckle escaped his lips as he picked up the dripping decapitated head by the horns. He then dropped the axe, letting it also become covered in blood as the precious red liquid spilled upon the arena floor.

Looking up at the box that contained Cardenas he gave a jaunty wave, causing the crowd to cackle. They were getting their gore, if only because Seth wasn't going to leave anything to chance. As he walked towards the edge of the arena he began to twirl using the head as a counterbalance, before he spun it round and round, sending out a spray of blood that even then began to hit the audience, much to its delight. With the release the force of the throw sent the head careening towards Cardenas' box.

The crowd began to cheer until a few of their number realized that the rather heavy and deadly horns of the bull were also sent careening. People began to scatter as he had not made it to the upper deck, but high enough to get the point across. He may have been imprisoned, but he was no one's slave. He then shouted out raising his arms in triumph, "Come now Cyril, can you not do better? Is that the best you can do?"

The crowd was on its feet at the defiant act. The men had after all dispatched the three Minotaurs who they had seen destroy many with ease. Never before had any gladiator dared to ask for more. They began to cry out for the Demon's continued fight. They didn't want it to end. There would be no more fights tonight, not if the Demon came through on his promise. How could anyone top these two? Their barbaric and brutal methods were as delightful as any toy given to a child.

~*~

Cardenas looked down his eyes focused heavily upon the bloody and unbowed thief. His hands locked tight in fists, and his visage as taut as a Cobra's body, prepared to strike. With deadly efficiency he gestured one of his guards over, his voice cold, "If he wants more, send out the chieftain, we'll see if he's so cocky after that."

The guard nodded as he ran down to the pits, not wishing to delay the fight. To delay a patrol was one thing, forgivable if not slightly painful, but to delay a fight, would be unforgivable, it would be torture upon high. Men had been left out in the sunlight for delaying a fight. As he reached the area for the monsters, he gave to word, and the pit master nodded thoughtfully.

~*~

Seth continued to glare at Cardenas unflinchingly before he turned to Ravenheart to check on the man. A sigh left his lips as he walked by him grabbing his lung poppers from the flesh of the Minotaur roughly, before he cleaned his knife off and holstered it. As the crowd continued to cheer he sighed as he muttered, "If I could only destroy you all, I might be happy for once..."

Perhaps it was fate that decided to let those words be the final ones, perhaps it was destiny. However, upon their utterance Seth found the irony of the situation too much. Upon his speaking the doors to the arena shattered as a ball covered in spikes attached to a chain sailed through the door. His eyebrow rose as with a casual jerk, the chain sent the ball flying back through the doorway. The hulking visage of yet another Minotaur coming through the doors as Seth grinned, "Finally something worth fighting..."

Much like the smaller ones, the horns were plated with hardened steel, glinting sinisterly in the torchlight. His armor however, was far from the dented and dusty plates of its lesser kin. It was polished to a high shine, and further, was spiked at the shoulders and back, to prevent one from easily attacking him from the outside. Furthermore, the look on his face told of confidence, far and above the minotaur, comparable to Letho's even, with the way he casually flicked his wrists unwinding more of the chains at his wrists, that connected to two spiked balls, each as big as the Marshall’s head. A roar left his monstrous maw as he roared in outrage at what could only be considered his kin's deaths.

Seth eyed over the warrior as he took a step back to stand next to Letho and muttered, "Any ideas Ravenheart? Or should we just wing it like usual?"

[Letho]

Uninterested in Seth’s bloody antics and the taunting of the vampire battle organizer that hurt Myrhia once already, Letho proceeded to retrieve his sword and cleanse it from the sticky mixture of sand and blood. He was here to do a job and the job was done; it was that simple. This conclusion, however, turned out to be wrong. Perhaps if he somehow restrained Seth, if he told him to keep his forked tongue behind his teeth, this ordeal would’ve come to an end. Unsatisfying for some, perhaps, but entertaining enough to keep Carendas’s whip off of Myrhia’s back and that was all that really mattered. As it was, the verbal prodding of the Lavinian was more then enough to provoke the vampire. And Cyril Carendas obviously wasn’t too fond of being provoked.

The double gates that opened before the three recently departed minotaurs crashed outwards this time, exploding in a myriad of splinters and drawing Letho’s attention away from the calmness of the aftermath and back into the fray. The creature that Seth’s twits summoned was even more impressive then his forerunners, both his constitution and his equipment superior to the trio. He stood at least a foot taller then the previous three, his meaty arms wrapped in chains that connected to a pair of huge spiked balls that seemed ready to wreak destruction. Getting a shot in wouldn’t be as easy as with the lesser three, Letho assessed almost instantly as he noticed the minotaur, for his armor was strong and maintained, covered in spikes like the hide of a porcupine. And unlike his deceased kin, he didn’t charge forward in a bullheaded manner despite the obvious fact that he had the head of a bull. Instead he growled and swirled his chained weapons and stomped forward more cautiously, keeping his hellish, crimson eyes on the pair.

“You’d do the world a favor if you sewed your mouth shut, Dahlios,” Letho said to his comrade, sighing in contempt. He knew that none of his words would actually reach Seth’s brain; that part of the thief was safely locked away behind the barriers that the Demon raised. And even if they could, it was too late for chastisement anyways. Their audience was on their feet again, delighted to see that the night’s entertainment wasn’t quite over yet, and the minotaur chieftain didn’t seem in the mood for parley. Picking up the tower shield that one of the minotaurs dropped, the Marshal struck it once with his blade before he set it in an appropriate defensive position.

“If I didn’t owe you for that throw back there, I’d sit this one out and let you deal with this beast your folly summoned.” It was just talk and taunts; there was no way this monster would let anyone take the pacifistic way out and there was no way Letho would sit out of anything. Regardless of how reluctant and domesticated he became, there was one thing and one thing only that he was made for and it had nothing to do with pacifism and everything to do with belligerency.

Their minotaur adversary approached cautiously, but when he closed the distance to some ten paces, his hooves slammed against the sand of the coliseum. Once, twice, thrice the behemoth’s hoof thumped against the soil, and when it collided with it the third time, it sent out a concentric wave of dust. As high as the beast and thicker then morning mist, this wall swept over both Letho and Seth, rendering them blind for a second. And a second was all that the minotaur needed to loose his flail-like weapons. There was no way to see the spiked balls coming, not for the swordsman, but luckily the sound of the ball-and-chain whistling through the air came before the strike just enough for Letho to turn his shield to meet it. Utilizing his knowledge of warfare, the Marshal set the shield at an angle and knelt behind it, but despite his textbook action, the impact tore a portion of his shield, crashing through the metal plating and splintering the wood.

And then the second ball came. Coming from the opposite direction, it caught the shielded swordsman by surprise just enough to disable him from positioning his shield properly. The heavy spiked sphere struck the shield directly, pulverizing it and sending Letho on his back. The dust was settling by then, the tawny cloud evanescing just enough for the Marshal to see the next attack coming as he regained his footing. This time the ball was launched directly forward, leaving the bearded swordsman just enough time to sidestep, but not with enough time to evade the ball as its owner recalled it. The spikes tore through Letho’s thigh mercilessly, leaving three bloody stripes and sending him to one knee yet again.

“Damn! We need to get closer to this thing or he’ll rip us apart!”

The Marshal did just that when the next attack came. The ball that already had his blood on its spikes came at him once again, but this time the dust screen was gone, making the strike obvious and predictable. Letho move sideways again, but this time, when the ball reached the apex of its flight, he pushed his blade into one of the chain links. Holding on to the hilt oh his blade with both hands, the bulky swordsman drove the blade deep into the ground. And just in time. No sooner then the adamantine sword went hilt deep into the soil, the tug came, sending the blade plowing through the floor of the arena. The sudden resistance threw the minotaur off balance, his failure to retrieve his ball leaving his right side temporarily open. Letho moved in instantly.

But the beast wasn’t as dumb as its dead brethren were. Even though it had one eye and spiked ball on Seth, it was still clever enough to pull on the chain soon after Letho’s blade released it. But soon wasn’t soon enough. Seeing the tug on the chain that was bound to send the ball on a collision course with his back, the Marshal threw himself forward and on his back, skidding through the dirt. This made the ball pass directly above him, enabling his sword to make a ‘correction’ to its trajectory, sending it sideways and upwards, tearing through the side of the minotaur’s face and knocking one of his horns away. It wasn’t a mortal wound, but it was a good start.

[Dissinger]

"If you didn't have my words to entertain you, life would be too droll..." Seth snapped back as the Minotaur swung his spiked balls about. Seth was literally kept on his toes as he was forced back to dodge and weave through the blows of the Minotaur, his temper beginning to rise at the frustration of the hard kill. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate hard to kill victims; it was more that he didn't appreciate extremely hard to kill victims. Hard to kill victims were a satisfying murder. The latter was more of a headache than it was often worth.

As the demon watched the cloud wash over him he closed his eyes, stretching his other sense to make up where sight could not. As he heard the sound of the chain clanking against itself, the ball whistling through the air he arched back placing his hands firmly upon the ground as he bridged across the ground, letting the ball whistle past him on a collision course straight for Letho. As much as his other half liked the Marshal, and as much as he had helped Letho before, he wasn't about to die for the man. Pragmatism overtook nobility any day the thief was awake, and even Dahlios, deep inside trying to divorce himself from his brutal actions, had to agree no better could be done.

With the clang of the metal upon metal Seth opened his eyes as with a backhand swing the ball was sent on a collision course with the thief. Dropping down flat upon the ground the ball once again passed closely before it was swung around the large Monster’s head and brought down towards the midsection of the thief. Seeing the overhead blow in action he quickly rolled out of the way as he groaned, feeling his muscles fatigued form the constant battling. Still, while that blow had been unable to cause harm, the other had to the Marshall, once again injuring and pushing him towards that critical point, where the body could not go any further than the mind willed it.

However, the marshal was prepared and had managed to wrap his sword in the chain before he dug it deep into the dirt. The monstrosity once again tried to tug the ball free to begin its next set, only to be thrown off balance. When he corrected himself the monster was in for a surprise when the sword came up and slashed through the face of the Minotaur, and lopping off a deadly horn. As it bellowed in outrage Seth saw his opening and struck, "Times up!"

Black energy coursed through his veins, as malignant and spiteful as their creator. The spell soon tore forth breaking through the skin to arc over his body as his hairs stood on end in their tribute to the mage's power. As he cupped his hands in front of him the energy found its final resting place before it formed into the sphere of darkness that Seth was too familiar with. Rushing the Minotaur he shouted out, "Hey you bullheaded son of a bitch catch!"

The orb was launched with such ferocity that when the energy crackled over Seth and into the beast it was as if he was trying to dissolve the beast itself. However, that was not the true intention of his works, and soon the entire audience was silenced in awe at the scene. Frozen in the annals of time, the chieftain was locked in the middle of bellowing a challenge at his nemesis. The balls were unmoving, the chain not even buckling in the wind as Seth glared hatefully at the best, a hand stretched towards it and clenched in a fist, giving him focus on restraining the beast.

Sweat poured down his forehead as he stood next to the beast keeping his fist clenched tightly shut as he closed his eyes. Speaking aloud he only hoped Letho could hear him over the din as they began to cheer ecstatically, "Take it's breastplate off Ravenheart, and give us a chance at doing this proper..."

~*~

The Private Box of Cardenas was silent as the fight progressed. Liliana standing close to Myrhia as she watched her flinch and gasp at every wound inflicted on Letho. She wasn't sure how well her comforting words were helping but she knew one thing, Myrhia had to remain strong, if only for Letho's sake. As she looked on she sighed seeing Seth trying his best to be entertaining, even if pushing the envelope against Cardenas. She could feel the hatred burning a hole in the center of that cold dead heart of it.

Kycoo however watched silently as he saw the display of the thief. Not long after the finish of the three he had begun to turn to leave, only to stay when Cardenas had authorized the use of the chieftain. While he wasn't sure what the outcome of that act could be, he had watched diligently, trying to see and figure out what drove Seth. FInally he saw it, if for a brief moment; he saw the magic residing within him, one of his Gifts of Mordechai. Never truly explained to him, yet wielded with the efficiency of a warrior.

There had been some weaker and lesser spells; however, in the end they were trivial. The use of the time magic by Seth himself was more impressive than he had thought. As a smile crossed his face he said to Cardenas, "A little wager, my dearest brother?"

Cardenas raised an eyebrow as he turned to Kycoo before he said, "What is that?"

"If Seth wins this fight, through the help of the esteemed Letho Ravenheart, you will not save the body for Mordechai. You will dispose of it as quickly as possible," Mordechai said with a smile.

"And if he loses?" Cardenas asked.

"You may sire me, and save the body for our beloved father," Kycoo replied. Cardenas seemed to ponder it, before he nodded assenting.

"It's a deal," Cardenas said as he looked back upon the fight with growing interest.

[Letho]

Even though it looked attractive and audacious enough for the audience to reward it with applause, Letho’s move was neither smart nor calculated. It failed to produce the desired effect – it lopped one of the horns off instead of smashing the minotaur’s face – and it put the Marshal in quite a compromising position. After all, lying on one’s back in the close proximity of one seriously agitated beast wasn’t the safest thing to do. To further confirm that fact, the chieftain raised one of his hoofed legs with a clear desire to slam it against the insolent human and pound him into the dirt until he was dead. But even as the creature brought its hoof above the fallen swordsman, an eruption of black energy engulfed it, shook through the very core of its being. And once this mystic attack was done, the hoof was halted in mid-motion, hovering above Letho as if the minotaur deliberated on whether or not to actually pulverize his opponent with it.

Only when the bearded Marshal rolled away from below the hoof’s shadow and got back to his feet, he noticed that it wasn’t just the leg that was halted. The horned behemoth was frozen in time, his body motionless, the movement of his chained weapons paused in mid-flight, making them levitate unnaturally. The fiery, devilish eyes were able to move in their sockets it seemed, but they were lost, befuddled by the inauspicious turn of events. It didn’t take long for Letho to track down the origin of this peculiar anomaly. Beside the static minotaur that looked almost like an extremely realistic statue, there was another, just as calm. Seth Dahlios stood next to the one-horned beast, holding his clenched fist up as if he was threatening the creature. The Lavinian’s mouth weren’t halted – were they ever given a pause from the constant blundering? – and they enabled him to give the Marshal a suggestion that sounded an awful lot like a command.

“Take off its breastplate? I’m not a goddamn squire,” Letho retorted, getting even closer to the minotaur, albeit tentatively, his thigh wound causing him to limp mildly. It wasn’t that he distrusted Seth... Well, it wasn’t just that he distrusted him. Letho Ravenheart also wasn’t very keen on betting his chips on magic more then he absolutely had to. Magic had a nasty habit of not working quite the way you expected or producing some very interesting drawbacks. Like perhaps ceasing to work at about the same time as he stepped within the reach of minotaur’s arms. That was why he circled around the beast cautiously, watchful for anything that would signify that the magic seal was breaking.

“Maybe I’ll just take his life and end this foolery,” the swordsman growled, hobbling around the eerily duo until he was directly behind the minotaur. The spikes that covered the back of his armor would’ve made any backstabbing attempt almost suicidal, but with the beast completely calm, Letho was able to use them to climb onto the back of his mighty foe. The mass grew silent once again, sitting at the edge of their seats, anticipating that a deathblow was about to ensue. There was a scream from one of the loges, somebody screaming ‘NO’ in desperation, but the swordsman was unable to locate it, unable to recognize it, so he disregarded it. It was probably just some lass with a faint heart that couldn’t handle all the blood and death. But then, when he already got high enough to bury his blade above the neckline of the beast’s plate, Seth spoke again.

“You want to take me with it?! There’s no time to explain, just take the breastplate off!” the Lavinian said just as Letho lifted his blade above his head and prepared it for the death-bringing descent. The words did to the swordsman what the magic did to the minotaur, halting the man and making his eyes find Seth’s only to clash with them in search for the truth. Was it just the Demon yanking his chain, trying to buy more time for his carnage? Or was it the truth? There were no answers in the eyes of the thief, nothing but the beast made of malice and the maddening corruption that seemed to snap its jaws at the Marshal. One of the vampires in the stands, unaware of the issue at hand, shouted ‘death’ and that word was a pebble that was thrown into the pond of vampires who picked it up readily, creating a massive din. But Letho didn’t notice them, he didn’t look at Seth. Instead his incisive eyes crossed the distance to Carendas’s loge, sought out Liliana and found her appalled, scarred, holding Myrhia in her embrace. And there he found the truth.

Bringing his sword down fiercely, the injured swordsman pushed it between the armor plate and the creature’s back. He tugged it left first, then right, again and again until the metallic shoulder straps succumbed to his indestructible blade. It wasn’t a clean job, probably leaving a cut or two on the back of the minotaur, but after it was done, Letho was able to pull all his weight to work, hanging on to the blade as it tore through the side of the armor. A moment after his feet struck the dirt of the coliseum, the heavyset spiked plate followed, clattering at the feet of the minotaur. And the crowd was displeased once again.

[Dissinger]

"No!" The cry left her lips before she even had a chance to react to it. Her body moving before the guards roughly pulled her back to her spot. Her head shaking as she struggled, "You'll kill him!"

"That’s the point my dear, now be quiet and watch the show..." Cardenas snapped as he watched the display with eager anticipation. This would be a bloody end to the bout either way, as the Man seemed to look around him for answers. Seth still held the clenched hand but seemed to be swaying as the swordsman looked up into the box past Cardenas. Seeing something he pushed the sword down, before the plate fell off the body. Cardenas frowned as he watched on, unsure as to what had changed the barbarian's mind.

Liliana could only watch as grateful tears passed down her cheek glad Letho had not finished the job as it had looked.

~*~

Seth meanwhile was fighting, the Chieftain was not exactly a stronger foe, but his strength and mental prowess were wearing out the thief as he attempted to hold onto the spell giving Letho a chance. Sweat dripped from under his chin as he felt nausea pass through him. Biting back on the bile forming on his mouth he watched the Marshall tear through the beast's armor, and felt more than a couple of cuts form on his lower back. The pain forming a simple distraction wearing away at the considerable will of the thief. As he continued to fight it his clenched fist trembled, as even his considerable determination began to give out. Letting go before the bile could become more he found he would regret the decision quickly, seeing himself too close to the dangerous beast.

The hoof came down in a resolute stomp once again kicking up dust. However, with the mental fatigue of the thief, he was in no condition to once again trust his instincts. As the balls began their trajectories once again he felt one collide with his side. A resounding crack of bones and flesh could be heard as Seth was unceremoniously thrown bodily to the walls. As he collided with them he groaned as he hit the ground, the spray of blood giving the Vampiric Elite more than enough recompense for the rather dull display here to fore.

Seth thought he heard a scream from somewhere, it sounded too much like Liliana for him to simply dismiss it. However his head rang as it echoed through him. He couldn't tell where it was from or what. He couldn't even make out what it was supposed to say to him, but he knew one thing. He was tired, really tired. A nap sounded good about now.

Come on whelp! Get your ass up! The voice seemed distant, hollow. It was like a man was shouting through a tunnel at him. It too bounced around his head as his eyes began to dim, his face glazed over as he lost touch with the world around him.

Why? The question was as simplistic as it was deadly. He had finally found that death he was eagerly trying to reach for. He was finally going to repay the blood debt he owed the world. Let his blood replace that of the many whose lives he had stolen. If he slept forever, he could care less, he had tried, and he had failed. There was nothing more he could do.

You can get your ass up and fight! The gruff voice persisted. It was more pleading than demanding. Seth however, didn't like either idea. He just wanted to sleep, the ground felt so nice and warm, he wanted to just curl up into a ball and sleep. Besides, sleep never hurt him before, why would it now?

~*~

The crowd was on their feet cheering and yelling to new heights. For all things considered, while a hero was certainly a nice thing to see succeed, it did go old fast. The true draw of the story was not when the hero succeeded and saved the day, no. People loved to see the hero fail. They wanted him to lose, to be defeated; they wanted to see him killed. Life was droll when things went right. It was when they went wrong that the true story began.

None knew this better than Liliana.

As she looked on horrified her hands were clasped over her mouth as she saw the brutal hit upon Seth. It wasn't neat and tidy, his blood having sprayed through splashing even a few of the spectators. He was brutally destroyed, and now, all that was left was to the finish the job. Seth was unmoving, his body having not even twitched as it laid there. If it weren't for the fact Liliana clung desperately to her ability to sense life, and felt the weakening pulse of Seth's soul, she would have questioned if he was alive still.

It was then that the chieftain turned roaring out its approval at the shot as it moved towards Seth each menacing step kicking up a dust ball. Twirling a ball about his body to try and keep Letho away from him, he readied to bring the ball about in a downward blow, straight for the Lavinian's head.

[Letho]

Letho thought that staying in the proximity of the temporarily halted minotaur would prove to be a plausible course of action. He thought that the beast would be dazed after Seth’s spell, that it would be disoriented just enough for him to put it to blade. He thought wrong. Because as soon as the enchantment subsided, the carousel made of chains and spiked metal balls was restarted. Seth got the worst of it though. The horned chieftain swirled his peculiar weapons at both opponents, but his eyes and his focus were both bent on the Lavinian, making the attacks directed at the Marshal lax and easily avoidable. Ducking while backpedaling away from the minotaur, it didn’t take long for Letho to exit the range of the baleful balls. Seth wasn’t that fortunate. One of the attacks caught him almost dead-on, tearing through his side and sending him colliding with the arena wall.

“Irresponsible fool,” the swordsman thought, keeping a watchful eye on both the hex mage and the second chained weapon that was stationary for the being, hanging limp at minotaur’s side. “Leaving himself weakened like that.”

Elation spread through the masses. There was nothing quite as intriguing as the twists and the turns in a fight, nothing quite like the indecisive scale that was tipped this way and that by every action that was taken. Right now it wasn’t looking good for the thief mage who was prone and motionless, bleeding profusely onto the sand of the coliseum. He was down and the minotaur was determined to take him out for good. The spiked ball moved again, this time swirling around before it was launched in a vertical arc that had Seth as its endpoint. There was no way for Letho to get to his inauspicious partner; the distance was too great and his leg was hampering his movement. Fortunately for the Lavinian, the flying adamantine blade was faster then its owner.

The Marshal let his bastard sword fly once again, throwing both his might and his prowess into another hazardous throw. The blade gyrated like a disproportional propeller, whooshing as it moved in to intercept the murderous attack. It wasn’t aimed for the spiked ball though. There was little chance that Letho would be able to divert that thing from its course, not from this distance and most definitely not without the titanic strength he no longer had. Instead, his uncanny projectile was aimed at the chain, cutting through the links and detaching the heavy ball from the minotaur’s control. This sent the spiked sphere scudding towards the audience, and suddenly cheers of jubilation were replaced by screams of terror. One of them – belonging to a black-haired temptress with an impressive figure – came to an abrupt end when the ball crash-landed into the stands, tearing the woman’s head off.

The minotaur chieftain wasn’t pleased with the effects of his attack. Seeing Letho as a bigger threat then the fallen time-freezing mage, the behemoth turned his attention to the currently unarmed swordsman. He hoofed the sandy soil again with vehemence, sending another wave of dust before he moved in on the meddlesome Marshal. The dusty mist clouded the action from all eyes, even the sharp ones belonging to the vampires in the front rows. This turned out to be quite a disappointment for most because, when the tawny cloud thinned enough for their eyes to penetrate it, it was all over.

The minotaur closed the distance fast, but Letho decided not to run headless through the mist. Instead he approached one of the lesser minotaurs slowly, listening for the incoming attack. One of them passed within an inch of his head, the other nearly tore off his foot, but by the time the third one came, he reached the corpse that Seth decimated minutes ago. It took every ounce of strength he had in his muscles, but somehow the bearded Marshal managed to pull the corpse up, holding it up as an eight-foot shield made of metal and bones and flesh. This time, when the ball came, it found a target, slamming into the bulky body of the dead minotaur. Feeling the resistance at the end of his chain and witnessing the blood on the spikes of his weapon once he retrieved it, the chieftain was positive that he made the kill. He moved forward through the cloud of dust he created, confident. Too confident.

No sooner then he reached the massacred body of his comrade, a jolt of blinding pain shot through the back of the minotaur, coming together with the complementary blade that passed through his spine and exited through his chest. Behind his back, Letho was holding the hilt of an almost ungainly scimitar, the massive weapon whose previous owner fell to Seth’s magics and belligerency. The roar of the minotaur chieftain was so loud and unhinged that it silenced the crowd, and when it was done, the horned beast was lying face down, lifeless, its conqueror standing on top of its hairy back serenely.

The spectators were silent, displeased, unsated. It was the most important moment of the night and they’ve missed it. Not even when Letho yanked the sword free and brought forth a gush of minotaur blood did they salute his performance. They wanted to see him dead, see him bleed and roar and fail with a sword in his back. The smirk on the face of the Marshal sent out a message: Better luck next time.

Casting the sword away as if it was a piece of rusty junk, Letho hobbled towards Seth’s fallen figure. He was jaded. His thigh wound was aching from the strain and all the dirt and sweat that got into it. His muscles demanded rest. Still, that didn’t prevent him from approaching his partner in the night’s escapade in order to set the record straight. His posture was strict when he spoke, but his voice was less acrimonious then the last time. “That makes us even, Dahlios. Now, do you want to call for more entertainment or should we call it a night?”

[Dissinger]

Silence reigned through the arena as they watched the display. Blood was present, yet the taste in their mouths was far from satisfactory. It was more bitter and vile than they had expected. The mob no longer able to stomach it they moved to leave, the grumbling and muttering moving through. As the guards rushed to help the poor decapitated Vampire, to help her be healed before she too would leave Cardenas spied it all and felt the bitterest of rages. Once again his hand reached for the glass vase as he threw it harshly against the wall.

A few of the guards jumped at the blatant display of rage, but knew better than to say anything. Any sound any noise, anything done or said, would give the man a focus. However, thankfully that focus came from the one source he could not control. The one person he could not defeat as easily. As Kycoo smiled he said, "Then its settled, in due time, when Seth dies, you will not keep the body."

Cardenas remained still, almost as if he didn't hear a thing. Everything he had set to accomplish was undone. The people got a spectacular bout, but didn't get their satisfaction. It was as if the very fates themselves cursed and railed at him, cursing him for defying them so long. Now, now he was trapped, the very prey had had hoped never to become. Stuck between a promise and his father, he had to stick with his choices. For the first time, the traitor would be accountable, in a way he had never hoped to be.

"I'll...see what I can do about disposing of it before Father comes for it. That is all I can promise..." Cardenas said his voice soft.

Kycoo nodded before he said, "Perhaps you should send the women out, while we finalize preparations for the next couple of nights?"

"Yes, indeed," Cardenas said with a wave. The guards moved to take the women out as guards poured into the arena, preparing to clean the bodies of the bloody massacre.

~*~

And pour they did, at least twenty of them, moving to clean the arena as the people left. It took three to grab Seth, and more to move the bodies of the four Minotaur, all destroyed by the antics of the thief. Seth was gone, in almost a coma like state as he only vaguely reacted to the world around him. The words of the marshal were so distant and far away he barely recognized the voice, let alone its words. As they brought him to the preparation area Seth groaned being unceremoniously dumped onto a table, where he would rest while a healer too its time attending to the other victims of the night, starting with the Vampiric noble.

Liliana moved swiftly between the bodies as she collapsed resting her head on his chest. Her tears sinking into his leather vest as she gripped him tightly, "Please Seth, hold on, I don't want to be alone, not right now..."

~*~

You hear that? Your little lady still wants you! Why should you desert her? Especially right now? The voice spoke to him, even as he heard her words. He felt in pain, so much pain, he was swimming in it, trying to hold out. His head barely above it he could feel its cold black depths calling to him, wanting to utterly crush and destroy him.

I killed too much Grandpa, I can't go on, its too much burden to bear, Seth replied as he continued to tread, almost as if hoping the General could give him reason to continue.

I carried a far heavier burden than you dip shit. Get off your ass and stop moping. You want to be happy? There’s a woman crying over you that would not only do anything to make you that, but is even now begging you not to leave her. Don't make the lady cry any longer!

Guilt, it was a familiar feeling, one he got every time he pulled a dagger, cast a spell and looked a victim in the eyes. However, this was a far heavier, more pure strain of it than ever. Liliana had sacrificed so much to be with him. He now had a choice, finally die, and rest at ease, knowing his debt had been paid in full, or keep going, and try to be there for her, in her time of need.

~*~

Seth groaned as he began to stir on the table. His eyes closed tightly as he fought against the pain. It hurt to move or breathe, or do anything for that matter. One arm hung rather limply at his side, while the other still carried some functionality. As he gently raised that still good arm, he let the hand rest firmly on Liliana's head as she rested against him. While she sniffled she whispered, "Don't you ever scare me like that again you bastard!"

A chuckle, followed by a wince of pain reverberated in Seth's chest as he mumbled softly, trying to stay awake for her, "Next time I'll let you do the fighting while I stay on the sidelines. How about that?"

"You brat," She whispered as she kissed his forehead and whispered, "Rest up, save your strength. The healer will get here soon enough..."

[Letho]

Apparently, Seth was in worse condition then the Marshal initially ascertained. There was no response to the words spoken, no snappy comebacks, not even a grunt or an attempt to move. For a moment, this led Letho to believe that the Lavinian finally kicked the bucket, but once the three uniformed vampires picked up Seth’s corpse, a painful groan made it clear that Seth wasn’t a corpse yet. No, he was too stubborn to die, too defiant, too tough. People like him didn’t go down easily. People like him didn’t go down hard either. People like him were survivors, fighting the odds on regular basis. Letho knew. After all, he fought his share of odds so far. Seth would live to fight another day.

Perhaps Liliana didn’t know that, or perhaps she did, but the image of Seth’s bloodied body forced desperation into her voice. Either way, the brunette was at the thief’s side the moment his carriers plopped him on a slab, clinging for him as if she could prevent life from leaving him. The vampires weren’t terribly concerned by the fact that he was leaking precious life liquid profusely. In fact, from what Letho could read in their eyes, some of them had a hard time restraining themselves from dipping their ugly mugs right into that open gash and feast on the warm blood. There was only one healer in the preparation room, and the indifferent bitch took her time to work diligently on reattaching the head of the woman who got to kiss the spiked ball. There wasn’t much left from her head – a gruesome sight that made the swordsman smirk all the same – but these bloodsuckers were an anomaly in the natural order of things, thus probably capable of regenerating a face. A damn shame, Letho thought. It would’ve been nice if at least one of them perished from the collateral damage.

Unlike Seth, the Marshal was able to leave the arena on his own, hobbling like an old man who lost his cane. His muscles objected, especially the wounded ones, wishing that somebody put them out of their misery and carried Letho as well, but the willpower and the pride of the swordsman made them work a bit longer. This struggle between natural fatigue and endurance made even the simplest actions – such as stripping down his armor – taxing to the point where he found it perfectly fine to take a nap in his armor. Luckily, by the time he pulled the leather breastplate halfway over his head, Myrhia was there to help him all the way. Her hands took off the armor hastily and threw it away, and before the protective accessory even struck the ground, she had her arms clinging to the bulky swordsman. Nobody was more frightened then her when that cloud of dust hid the clash between the minotaur chieftain and Letho.

“I told you I’d do better,” he said to her, his callous hands careful not to bring further ache to her whipped back. The redhead didn’t say anything, at least not until the healer came to the two. The vampire vixen would’ve been a sizzling beauty if not for the protruding fangs hanging from her jaw and the deathly pale complexion that made even Myrhia’s pale skin look as if it was sun-kissed. She stood next to the two with a tray of bandages and healing ointments, eyeing them with an apathetic glance.

“Do you need healing?”

“Yes, he needs healing, but not by you,” the skinny redhead snapped at the black-haired vampire, snatching the tray from her hands. Such an ardent behavior was unconventional for Myrhia, but then again, it wasn’t every day that she was held as a prisoner and punished every time her man failed to perform. When she spoke again, however, her tone was more somber. “I’ll tend to his wounds.” The vampire offered only a scowl as a retort before turning her attention to Seth.

“We’d better do that back in my cell. I think I’ll fall on my face if I don’t lie down soon,” Letho said, and none of the vampire sentinels seemed to object. A pair of them led the way, followed by the limping swordsman and the concerned redhead whose translucent silky clothes seemed almost too stylish when compared to Letho’s haggard rags. But Mryhia didn’t give a damn for the fancy clothes. Once they reached the prison and the Marshal positioned himself on the bed, she dropped to her knees on the filthy floor and started working on his wound. She was nowhere near as deft as Letho when it came to mending wounds, but he taught her enough and her fingers were gentle, considerate, provoking only the necessary amount of pain.

“Will it always be like this, Letho?” she asked once the guards departed, leaving them locked up in the cell. She didn’t look at him, her eyes and her bloody fingers focused on the gapping gash on his leg, but she knew his eyes were searching her own. Before he could ask her to clarify, she did so. “Will our lives always be just running from one trouble into another?” Her hands stopped working, her little head dropping to hide the welling tears. “I thought I wanted adventures, but I don’t. Not anymore. There’s too much blood, too much hurt. I just... I want a normal life. I want to be back in Willowtown and watch our orchard blossom. Is that too much to ask?”

She was being a crybaby and she knew it, but there was too much of it all bottled up inside of her. Too many cold nights without his touch, too many bandaged wounds and stuffy prison cells and chancy fights and odds that worked against them. Too much blood and too much tears. Brushing away the latter from her cheeks, she made a move to continue mending his wound, but his large hand covered her own, stopping it with a tender caress.

“No, it’s not,” Letho spoke, and the gentle tone of his voice coaxed her into looking up and towards him. “I can’t promise you a normal life. There’s no such thing. There’s just life and the obstacles it throws at you. It just happens to throw more at us because we can handle more.”

“I... I don’t think I can, Letho. I’m not made up for this, not like you,” Myrhia said, her sorrowful voice tearing through the very core of his being. It stirred something inside of him, a beast that clawed at the walls, wanting to get out, wanting to rip everything to shreds just to cater to her desires. It roared for the power that the Marshal once had, but there was no response. Regardless how hard he tried, Letho knew he would never be his old self.

“Yes, you can. You’re stronger then you think. Out there, I fight monsters that I can see... that I can slay. You have to fight monsters you can’t see like fear, trepidation, doubt. That makes you strong here...” His hand left her own only to allow his fingers to pass through her mahogany hair and tap on her temple. It made her lips curl into an uncertain smile, more of a product of his touch then his reassuring words.

“I wish I could fight your monsters. Then we could break out of here together,” she said, sniffling, her hands resuming with their job, working on his wound. Her tone was low when she continued. “Speaking of that, I found something out. The guards tend to be rather reckless during the arena battles. They pay so much attention to Carendas and his whims that they are almost blind to everything else. I don’t know if that helps us somehow, but that’s as much as I could find out.”

[Lavinian Pride]

Why was it that whenever the day was over and done with, Sarah felt like she had lost? As she watched, She saw Seth had survived, if only barely. Letho was relatively fine, and yet here she was, having not even fought, and she had this feeling of loss. It was probably the fact that those two had someone who loved them deeply. Who was their better half, who kept them from falling into the darkness she had finally succumbed to long ago.

It was a feeling that tore through her as she watched Letho and Myrhia go through their ritual for the night. She felt that horrid sense of loneliness, the one that drove her to drink and to find a partner for the night. It drove her to a great many things, and as she moved and leaned against the bars of her cage, she almost drowned in it, hearing the couple's words as if from far away. She almost didn't register them as she leaned her head against the cross bar. Her whole demeanor was tired of life, but she persisted, if only because she couldn't kill herself.

Slowly their words filtered into her head as she contemplated them. The guards were lax while Cardenas demanded complete satisfaction in his arena. As she thought things through a plan drifted to her, doable, if one person was willing. It was this that made her wonder if she could convince them, and convince them she would have to. After all she had known this person all her life. To do this job required delicate touch and a skill set unbecoming a normal woman.

She would have to get a guard good. Not just seduce, but fully exploit. Only then could she hope to get the keys for the escape. As she sighed she fought against her better nature, the one that tried to put such whimsical ideas and scrutinized them, and let her plan come to fruition. Not now, it would be too soon, the keys would have to be taken at the right time. For now, she would have to wait. Still her eyes gazed over at Myrhia helping Letho as she felt the warm arms of Kid wrap around her waist.

"Sarah, lets rest, you know you fight tomorrow," Kid whined.

"Not yet, I want to make sure he made it. I know he's alive, but making it intact will be another thing entirely," She replied softly. Her voice was hoarse from lack of use. It wasn't that she didn't have anyone to talk to. It was more than she didn't feel like doing much talking since Kycoo's move into the arena. As she relaxed she went to her cot before she spoke up, "Letho, I know I haven't exactly been the nicest person to be around lately, but promise me something. If something happens to me tomorrow, take care of Kid, she deserves better than here..."

Kid looked at Sarah concerned before she softly, "But Sarah-"

"No buts Kid, you go with Ravenheart if something happens, at the very least you'll stand a chance at a better life, and that’s all I care about..."

[Letho]

No, Sarah wasn’t the nicest person to be around lately, but then again, she wasn’t the nicest person to be around most of time so her current demeanor wasn’t too much of a divergence from her usual one. There was something awry within her, something rotten, a wound that she tried to hide, but a wound that festered all the same. It made the woman acrimonious, distant, it locked her up in her own little prison of desperation from which she couldn’t escape. Myrhia and Letho both knew the reason for this. During their search for the elusive Tears of the Nameless Maiden artifact, Sarah revealed them her story, explaining how she was the mistake, the Scarecrow, one half of an incomplete, corrupted soul. It was a heavy burden to carry and with each day it pulled the woman under more and more.

But despite this bleak existence and all its downs, there seemed to be something positive occurring in the Lavinian as well. That was the only way to explain her affection towards the young lass that never seemed to leave her side. Perhaps it was just motherly instincts kicking in, demanding from her to ensure the survival of her fosterling, or perhaps she truly cared for the child she simply called ‘Kid’. Either way, she presented Myrhia and Letho with a plea that neither of them had the heart to reject. The redhead – always more sympathetic and mellow of the two – was the first one to respond.

“Of course we’ll take care of her,” Myrhia said, postponing applying the final layer of the bandage and approaching the metal bars of Letho’s cell. The young girl in the opposite cell seemed frightened by all this talk of her fate, so Myrhia offered her a smile aimed to reassure. In her simple, naïve mind, Sarah didn’t even have to ask this; it was something that the pair would’ve done anyways should things go wrong for the Lavinian. Letho was much more levelheaded about it, though.

“That’s bad luck, you know, making plans for your own demise,” the Marshal interrupted the gentle exchange with his imposing voice. His hands tightened the last bandage that Myrhia left loose before he gave it a test run, getting up to his feet and proceeding towards the door of the cage. He wobbled for the first two steps, but then his posture retrieved the dignity and forced him to ignore the ache. Couple of specks of blood appeared on the surface of the fresh patch, but luckily the distance he had to cover wasn’t too great. “You make sure nothing happens to you tomorrow. That’s all you need to think about. But if it will put your mind to ease, know that there are plenty of vacant rooms in the Willow Manor. I’m certain we’ll find one for your kid should worse come to worse.”

“Yes. But I’m sure it won’t. I believe in you, Sarah, and I know you can win tomorrow.” Myrhia wasn’t speaking this just to encourage the Dahlios twin; she was never eloquent enough for incitements that made people’s chests expand and hearts beat faster. But she knew how strong Sarah was. It wasn’t just the woman’s prowess she believed, but the woman that was beneath this bitter exterior, the woman that wept with her on that nameless spot in Concordia forest when Sarah spoke of her true nature. The woman that was worthy of the life that was given to her.

***

Much of the day – that was, due to their vampire hosts, reserved for resting – Letho spent tossing and turning on his modest cot, unable to get some shuteye. His metabolism still refused to switch to the nocturnal setting, so while his body welcomed the repose, his mind was rampant. It was Myrhia’s words it dwelled on the most, her plea for a normal life, her doleful tone and weak sniffles and trembling fingers. And for the first time since their fateful meeting in Scara Brae, Letho wished that he hadn’t met the redhead. Someone else would’ve liberated her from her slavery eventually, somebody who wouldn’t take her out of the frying pan and then throw her into the fire over and over again. She could’ve been happier with someone else.

The worst of it all was that there was no solution to this predicament, no escape from the name he built for himself. Trouble had a bad habit of sniffing out people like him, bringing the next contender, the next person who would like to make some money on death of Letho Ravenheart, another Carendas, another Storm Veritas, another threat for Myrhia. With such hapless thoughts running through his head, there was no room for the serenity that would bring slumber to the Marshal. So he lay in his bed, starting at the ceiling and wrestling enemies he could never defeat.

[Liliana Ambria]

Liliana watched as they tended to Seth, bandaging and healing him to the point he could stand. No more, and no less, for they weren't going to fully heal the thief. He was defiant and arrogant. He had talked back to his master, and so would be punished. If the next fight he suffered he would know better than to rail at Cardenas, if only so he could be healed more fully. As Liliana helped Seth back to his cell they saw Sarah sitting on her cot, watching them like a hawk. She shivered a bit in response to the cold glare, but didn't inquire, Sarah was like Seth in so many ways, and one of them was not giving information until it was important.

As they entered the cell she sighed as she curled up next to Seth, her near translucent gown causing her to shiver in the night’s air. It was more than that however, as she tried to get closer to him, the feel his warmth and know he was alive. She needed reassurance after the two close calls. With the Marshall and the chieftain nearly killing him, she had to know he was alive. Feeling an arm wrap around her by rote he shifted slightly to let her in closer as she clung to him. He then gently began stroking her hair as she whispered, "Not exactly my idea of a great vacation."

"I'll work on it next time, should probably book for a different city," Seth quipped. She smiled softly upon hearing him retort. It meant he was still there, still trying, still willing to fight on.

As she sighed she said softly, "Don't die on me Seth?"

Seth chuckled a bit despite the pain she knew he was feeling before he spoke back, "Just ask Ravenheart here, if anything is going to kill me, I haven't found it yet."

~*~

The next morning they awoke to the same show they had grown accustomed to. Sarah was uncharacteristically up, checking her blades. As Sarah seemed to prepare for battle, Liliana got a shiver down her spine as she felt something amiss. It was soon answered when Cardenas once again stood before them, "Ravenheart, you have a break today. No fighting for you, spend your time well, for few afford that luxury." He turned from the man before he looked squarely at Sarah, "So professional today, anticipating my next words?"

"You could say that," Sarah replied, her voice neutral.

Cardenas chuckled as he said, "Seth, I hate to make you fight so soon, but Sarah has challenged your right to fight Kycoo tomorrow. In the arena that means one thing, the fight is postponed, and the two fight for the right to the battle they both desire."
Liliana was about to open her mouth before Seth clamped a hand over it gently, stopping her from speaking out. His grey eyes locked on the curiously brown ones of Sarah. She met his gaze coldly before she went back to working, he belt being slung around her waist as she spoke, "When is our fight?"

Cardenas laughed before he spoke up, "Why, you're the opening event! The guards will be around shortly to collect you. Fight well my Lavinians, so you can entertain the masses and set the stage for the rest of the night."

Liliana looked worriedly at Seth before he spoke his voice soft, "Don't worry, I have a plan, and I'm more than certain she does too."

[Lavinian Pride]

The guards came swiftly as they took the competitors to the arena. Each was separated form the other as was the custom, but Sarah knew, there was nothing ordinary in today. This was a fight that had been a long time coming, a day when she had Seth all to herself. She had needed this, to finally cast away the chains of him, to be a new person entirely, to finish what he had start over a year ago. As she entered the arena she had her hands ever ready, incase Seth decided to make the match far too quick.

As she stood there in the arena she could swear the entire world was gone. There was nothing beyond the walls, no life, no screaming vampires calling for the blood they felt they deserved. She was in a world of silence as the door across the way opened. Seth walked out, his eyes were soft, and missing the hard edge she knew was there. His guilt was overwhelming him again as he made his way to the arena. Her eyes were fixed on him, taking in his shambling gate. He was still injured, still not at his fullest, but she needed that, to rely on and to have.

As they squared off in the arena Sarah waited patiently. She knew he would try to prevent the fight from getting deadly. He didn't want blood on his hands, not since he had killed the people that made her life possible. As she critically studied him, his voice came out, rough and tired, "Sarah-"

"Don't start," She snapped. Their words lost amongst the cries as they looked at each other before she spoke, "I waited a long time for this Seth, and I wont let you try and ruin this with your pathetic pleas for a peaceful solution. Not when I had to watch for a year as you murdered and destroyed everything around you, and tear apart everything you loved!"

Seth's eyes seemed to harden as he heard the cold words from her. He opened his mouth as he spoke, "Of all the-"

"No, no forgiveness here. You want absolution, find religion. I was born from your ignorance and your callousness. I was to be your angel of Vengeance, to take over when you could no longer stand it. And when you killed our parents, you took it from me. You destroyed all hopes at rebuilding the Dahlios Legacy."

"Shut up about that! There's nothing I can do about it!" Seth said as he swiped a hand to the side, hoping to erase Sarah and her words from before him.

As she saw his eyes she smiled seeing a fire in them, his pride had awoken, "There you are, finally. I was beginning to think you truly had become the sniveling coward you like to pretend you are Seth. No matter how many ways you try to hide it, you're a Lavinian, and a weapon. The problem with you is, you got used like the tool you are, and you're enraged at that fact."

"I don't need a lecture from a vapid-"

"Temper temper, brother. I know more about you than you think. That why I stepped in, because I know you. You want to die; you want it so badly you can taste it. If it was a death you wanted, you could have just asked Seth, I'd have been more than happy to have obliged, and put your pathetic life out of my misery."

"Is that what this is about? You wanting me dead?"

"Are you truly that stupid, or do you forget your life isn't the only one on the line here today? If you die, Liliana dies with you. You rush to your death, and you don't even think of what you'll do to her. She's not what you think Seth, she's not that strong, and already she's taken hatred into her heart, just like her brother."

"You leave Liliana out of this!" Seth said as he reached forward to grab at Sarah, only to have his hand caught and twisted.

Bringing Seth closer to her she breathed, "Its impossible now, but if you want her to live, you're going to do what I say. Remember your second fight with Logan? From the top now, brother." With a kick she sent Seth back clutching his chest as he felt his lung pressed empty of all air. Coughing he looked at her confused, as she grinned, she'd enjoy this.

She, after all, had waited so long...

[Dissinger]

Seth gripped his chest as pain flared through his chest. Grunting softly he stood up as he looked at her, the confusion clear on his face. Logan and he had not talked in over a year, atop this was the fact he was in pain, and couldn't remember what she was talking about. The second fight with Logan? He couldn't even remember the first, and here she was dredging up history. Atop the fact that she was on him again rushing forward he was screwed.

Drawing daggers he swung at her only to have his attack deflected and her inside his arms. Growling in irritation he twirled the blades bringing them towards himself in the hopes of trapping her before he heard the snicker, and realized to late the intent. As the blades were stabbed forward she caught his hands stopping him before she whispered, "Oh no you don't. I'm going to enjoy this, and I'm not about to let you commit suicide and ruin it."

As he tried to pull the knives forward he found he couldn't. It was impossible, so strong was she he had no hope of overpowering her. It was a silent reminder this was not the Sarah he had been, nor the Sarah that had fought him in the Cell. This Sarah was stronger, faster, and more powerful. She had been killed, and with that death, she had been born anew. Custom fit to be the arena fighter she had become. Soon an elbow jabbed him in the ribs causing him to grip his chest again as he backpedaled, trying to get away from her. The crowds were cheering as she spun around with a kick to his head that sent him sprawled to the ground. The rusty taste of copper hung in his mouth as he spat it out.

"Stay down Seth, and do us all the favor. No one needs to see your pathetic ass anymore. Just give up and be the little bitch you like to pretend you are," Sarah barked. The fires of pride stirred in him as he slowly drew himself to his knees. Looking up at her he stood up defiantly, dusting himself off.

"You'd love that wouldn't you?" Seth retorted. Feeling the pain ebb away as he clutched Ebony and Ivory, his other daggers having been dropped in the recent exchange, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You could say I've been waiting a long time to do this," Sarah retorted her grin widening devilishly as her hands rested on her own set of twin daggers.

"Can't say I think much of your hobby. Perhaps you should consider a change of career?" As Seth finished the practiced retort he threw the lung popper and rushed forward. Sarah easily evaded the Lung Popper watching it fly by her before a knife blade sunk deeply into her gut. She looked into his eyes as He finished, "Sorry sister, you need to wait your turn in line."

"I'm not through yet," Was the response as she hugged around his torso and squeezed for all she was worth. He cried out in pain as the knife was let go and he fell limp against her. She then broke the hug as she placed a hand firmly atop his head. As he groaned once more in pain she spoke, "Go ahead, let that bastard out of his cage, it’s his turn anyways."

He lay in the dirt bruised, and in pain. His ribs were never quite fully healed. She was goading him to do what she knew he would. It was clear that she had planned this, a lesson from which she would tear him apart, and do what? Vengeance here would be bittersweet. Nothing would be accomplished. What was she playing at?

[Lavinian Pride]

Seth was down on the ground. As she looked at her stomach she could see the blade still in her flesh. The circular handle of the lung popper displayed itself proudly for all who looked upon her, marring the otherwise perfect flesh. It was odd, not feeling the immediate danger of the injury. Not caring about what it would do to her innards. Perhaps it was the fact she had been killed, but she just couldn't find it in her to care anymore. Gripping the blade she looked at it, the familiarity of the item feeling alien, foreign to her undead senses. As she licked the blade, tasting the tang of her blood she sighed, it offered no reprieve from the thirst she was feeling. It was useless. Another idea had been squandered.

Seth groaned as he clutched his ribs. She knew he must have been in real pain to groan even despite that high pain tolerance. As she moved she placed her boot firmly on his chest as she grinned leaning over him, "Poor scared little Seth. Problem is no one ever taught you how to grow up. You can't win your battles by running away you coward. SO what’s it going to be? Are you going to run? Or are you going to fight?"

Seth groaned as the weight on his chest brought another wince of pain. He was close, she had almost pushed him over the edge. The bastard would give his life to the demon, and the fight would begin anew. She would be slightly disadvantaged, but she would manage. As she looked down upon him she watched as he gripped her by the leg, "Get off me!"

The crowd was shouting out calls to end the fight. They wanted her to kill him and be done with it. They rallied behind the veil of their newfound champion the sycophants screaming for the match to end how all hers had, the kiss of death and the flash of steel. She could see it in his eyes, the conflicting voices, the cries for him to fight on. He seemed so close to bending, and she wanted to be the last straw that broke his determination to fight without demon.

"You won't fight for Liliana? You know what happens if you die? So does she, and then that little twat of a priestess you're so in love with can die. Then she can find out how big a bastard you truly are. How unfaithful you have always been, perhaps Sivienna would be a good name to bring up-" She was stopped when she felt the piercing point of a dagger into her dead flesh. Frowning she looked down before her eyes widened.

"You love her too, don't deny it bitch," He breathed as she tried to remove the blackened blade from its newfound sheath. Her hand gripped the blade preparing to pull it out when she groaned loudly in pain, her hand jerking back. Had the blade just attacked her? As she looked she realized the dagger was not a kunai, it was Lavinian in design. The missing hilt gave that small fact away. No, as she looked on a burning sensation began in her leg and coursed through her body as she cried out in pain falling over as she clutched her leg.

Ebony.

The blade that had betrayed them both had gotten to sink its teeth into her leg. As she gasped as sobbed in pain she grabbed the blade, ignoring the lesser pain of touching it, and ripped it out, causing a flow of blood from her leg as she growled feral, "You son of a bitch!"

As Seth scrambled to stand she was pouncing upon him bestially her hands going straight for the vest he wore. She was going to tear his heart out with her bare hands. Ripping open the leather vest she clawed at his shirt before she cried out in pain again, Ivory sinking into her arm deeply. As the blade cleared the other side she shuddered as she hunched forward. He was stabbing her to death, going to force her bleed out and die. It would have worked too, had she not been undead. However, she would need to feast and soon, or she would go feral. The lesson couldn't be held off so long. She had to end the fight.

She had forgotten how clever he could be with those blades. She had fallen into his trap, his self sacrificing fighting style tearing through her as she was forced to grip Ivory from its fleshy prison. The blade was thrown with a deranged irritation as she went for him again, only to be shocked when she was rolled over and received a kunai into her gut again. She was becoming a pin cushion, so numerous where the blows as he kept stabbing forward.

"Seth's tenth rule of success," He breathed in her ear.

Only the victors wrote history.

The words rang in her ears as if coming from a distance as he fell backwards tired and spent. She had to move, to put the bite into him for her sake. As she groaned she slowly stood up, the residual pain of the enchanted blades leaving her system as the blood moved over the smooth flesh of her body. She had once been a sight to behold, intoxicating and beautiful. Now, she was the sacrifice, the body cut open to see what truly was inside. As she lurched to life she realized she had such little blood, she would need to feed, and there would only be one chance of that.

What little blood that was left in her body burned as her wounds stopped bleeding all together. Her skin began to take on a sickly sheen as it began to wrinkle and rot. Patches of it festering and rotting as she moved forward her strength and speed increased. Seth tried to fend her off but was far too tired as she pinned him to the ground. She had to feed; she couldn't not as she bit savagely into his neck. Blood, precious blood flowed into her waiting mouth as she moaned in ecstasy. She hungrily drew upon the source as she continued to push the limits over and over.

The flesh soon began to fill out and take back their beauty. Her wounds closing and healing up as if time itself reversed for the vampiress. Her moans stopped as she sat up and grinned looking upon Seth her grin that of a satisfied lover. Wiping her mouth seductively she licked her hand clean of the blood left as she said softly, her voice husky in the afterglow of the feeding frenzy, "Just as good as I thought. Its no wonder Liliana likes you..."

[Dissinger]

He lay there blood still pouring, albeit weakly from his wounds. Her felt his heartbeat frantically to keep up with the blood loss. She had drained him almost completely; there was nothing to sustain him. He could feel the darkness closing around him. He was gone; there was no more to the story. Sound had left him as had sight. He was in a dark world, cut off from normal existence. Time seemed to stretch forever as one thought crossed his mind.

Is this what its like to die?

The voices were gone, the cries of the crowd gone. He as alone, a silence as deep and profound as when he had awoken to find his life had been destroyed by his very hands. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it. As he began to slowly fade he heard a voice, Strong and direct. It cut through the darkness as he seemed to drift in the inky blackness that had defined his new world;

Give yourself to me.

Who are you? He had to ask the voice. For one did not hear voices without questioning who they were. Was he a magician, were these the words of a Psion, or where they internal? Was it a demon within his breast asking for his freedom? As he pondered it, he realized he didn't even know who he was, let alone what he was doing anymore. He had almost completely died.

I'm all you have left, if you want to stand a chance of living, give yourself to me. Wholly, no half assing, just accept what strength I give and give yourself to me!

Did he want to live? Part of him said yes. However, another part had barked out a vehement no. As he considered that no he realized that part was a coward. Afraid to live, he hated that part. He wanted to destroy it, to burn it alive, to watch it disappear leaving only this core him behind. As he looked deep within his heart, he saw only the darkness that surrounded him. He knew the choice he had to make.

Help me.

~*~

Seth remained in the dirt for what seemed like an eternity. The expression on Sarah's face was one of contentment. However, as she tried to lean down to kiss her assumed deceased lover she stopped as she frowned. The amulet was stirring. It had grown appendages and moved to his chest. Trying to swat it off she frowned when suddenly it became liquid flowing over his body rapidly. She tried to claw away at it, to rip it from his downed form, only to watch it slip through her fingers.

Backing off from the corpse she watched as the metal began to form into things. The Gauntlets he had worn were enhanced, metal added until they were full plate gauntlets. The chest was covered in a chest plate, of which a symbol long forgotten to history etched itself regally. Pauldrons formed over the joins in what looked like chain mail sliding over his skin to protect him. The coif hiding the fresh bite marks of her victim. That was all she saw of him following that as a visor sprouted over his visage and slammed shut, cutting off the face.

His legs were encased in plating not unlike that which now covered his armed. Plated and ready for battle it shined with a slightly green tinge. Finally the body lurched to its feet as it began to move on its own volition. A spear appeared, long metallic and a single piece, used to balance him as he groggily rose to his feet. As she pulled Daggers she wondered what the hell was going on as the man assumed a relaxed posture. The voice that boomed from under the helmet not at all that of Seth, "Alright you comely wench, you beat up a thief and a murderer, lets see how you deal with a true warrior."

[Lavinian Pride]

"That can't be him. He's dead isn't he?" Cardenas was leaning over his railing as he scrutinized the armor. There upon the chest was the answer. The crest of the last King of Reven gleamed brilliantly in the torchlight as his eyes widened. As he looked on he shuddered as he saw the rebirth of the last man he thought he would ever see, "Karel Dahlios, what are you doing alive..."

"Perhaps he was waiting for this moment, just to show you how he still can bring us all down, as he threatened on more than one occasion. Even father could not control the madman, which probably led to his murder, and imprisonment in the amulet," The calm voice behind supplied.

"If that’s Karel, then where the hell is Seth? This is far too confusing; I know Seth is there-"

"He is, Karel's possessed him. Look at it this way, so long as Seth's strength holds out, Karel will act through him. As soon as his spirit can take no more, he will crumble like a house of cards."

Cardenas didn't even bother too look at his brother; he knew Kycoo was back there. Watching the fight with an amused expression, as if that smug grin knew all that was before the thief. As he looked on he said, "Age has not slowed Karel down one bit. I think he is going to decimate your little plaything."

"Sarah can handle him, if Seth can hold him, she can tear him down. She nearly killed Dahlios as it was," Cardenas countered.

"If you say so," The voice was as smug as it was profound. Cardenas could only pray he was right.

~*~

Sarah meanwhile was growling lowly as she came forward quickly. A spear was a long weapon, and if she could get inside she could destroy the tin can that Seth had imprisoned himself in. Pushing forward she brought her daggers about before she was shocked to find the knight do the unexpected. Instead of backing up or swinging, he moved forward, and wish a push forward brought the metal bar in front of him.

As she struggled to push the bar back she suddenly realized her folly when the bar twisted and went up under her chin after shoving her back. Dazed the spear came about as it tore into her side ripping her open. Clutching her side the butt end of the spear came about to hit her across the face sprawling her in the dirt. As she shook her head to clear the cobwebs she spat, blood mixing into the already saturated ground. As she groaned her opponent spoke once more, "Submit. This fight is over. Any further action and I will spear through your heart and present it as a gift to Cardenas."

Sarah clung to her side as she considered her options. He was smart; the side hit had caused a great loss of blood, draining her vitality. As she groaned softly she could see no way out of the situation. He had wounded her and furthermore was encased in armor. Acting brashly and stupidly had cost her too much. By attacking she had forced her hand and come up ace high, right into a royal flush. She was outclassed.

Closing her eyes she bit back on the bitter taste in her mouth as she spat, "Yield."

The crowd was in silence as the fight ended. There was blood and humiliation. As they began to look on they could only hope the rest of the night was better. One more time the fights that had seemed the most interesting were disappointing. As the fight began to end she looked on as the metal slowly began to ripple and pull back. Sarah became witness to the battered and beaten body of Seth revealing itself before her as it finally stopped an amulet hanging about his neck. It was small and not overly ornate. As she tried to make eye contact with her other half however, he collapsed, crumpling in the dirt as if a corpse.

The guards rushed out picking him up, as he didn't make a single sound. As she hobbled to her feet she left for the feeding area as he groaned softly. There was nothing left but to wait for tomorrow as she sighed, her frustration evident. She had him dead, gone for good, and now she had to watch as he went off to get himself killed. There was no happy ending for her, and she feared there never would be. As she reached the doorway she punched the frame in frustration causing a crack to resound through the hallways as she relaxed, waiting for the blood to come so she could rest.

[Liliana Ambria]

"Dear gods he better pull through this one," The voice was stern, but could not hide the underlying thread of fear. Had Sarah killed him? Had she done what she had set out to do? If so, he would destroy that damnable woman. As he looked at the downed form of Seth he shook his head, the pulse was faint, and he looked pale.

"She couldn't embrace him, he will not die though, he is resilient. Some thing binds him to his body. Though his soul has become fractured." The aged crone said as she began to go to work, finishing the job that had begun earlier. Ribs were healed, blood began to form in veins as the heartbeat steadied. As she continued her work she said, "This is only a minor case my Lord. He will probably pull himself together soon."

Cardenas frowned. A soul didn't fracture under anything but the most stressful of situations. As he looked on the thief he said sternly, "Can you help him?"

"I cannot. This is a journey he has to make on his own. A soul is far to delicate a thing to toy with My Lord, as you already know," The crone said. She continued to hum and chant as she left the body, pristine before Cardenas. Upon the slab it looked like the offering to a dark god. However, Cardenas sighed as he reached forward and gently lifted the amulet from its place around Seth's neck. While not removing it he inspected it before he said curtly, "Lazarus, you stole a brother. One day you will pay. Until then..."

"Let him rest, he will awaken when he is done. I would suggest a cell for him, since he has nothing life threatening," The healer said as she rose getting ready to tend to the multitude of other injuries.

Looking at the guards he said firmly, "Do it."

~*~

Liliana had watched on in horror as Seth had been beaten, bruised, battered, and drained. Each hit, each blow meant to destroy Seth had caused her to cringe. Each moment where it seemed Seth was gone form her she clung desperately to the measure of life in him reassuring herself he was in fact alive. However, at the end of the battle, he seemed so faint. A mere flickering flame upon a candle compared to the Raging inferno he once was. As the guards brought him in and laid him in the cell she waited until they were gone. Gently she stroked the hair from his face as she saw him laying there, completely out of it.

"Seth, don't worry me like this, wake up..." She said softly. He remained as inert as he had entered the cell. A gentle hand rested over his heart as she felt the heart beating underneath it. He was warm, he just was sleeping, resting and recovering. While it reassured her, it didn't make it any easier on her. Looking down on him she shook her head softly before she whispered, "Please don't die on me Seth. I don't think I could take it..."

[Lavinian Pride]

Waiting in the infirmary for her turn she relaxed as she lay against the wall. The crone was hovering over Seth repeatedly, not even bothering to excuse herself as she took care of her other half. As she watched, bones mended and wounds closed under the careful ministrations of the witch. It was no secret Seth was being pampered, having been so completely healed.

As she relaxed she closed her eyes, knowing the flask of blood would make it shortly. She was far easier to heal and fix than a truly living being. That in and of itself lent far too much power to her curse. She could never see daylight, never enjoy her life as she wished, no longer bear children...

It was this last fact that drove her to such dizzying heights of depression.

What good was a Dahlios that could not continue the family, the family that Seth had so cruelly ripped apart in his search for power. It was that simple fact that caused her to swell up in anger whenever she saw the bastard. To act so contrite, so penitent for his actions only instilled greater anger. There was no remorse in their father's death, and Mother needn't have died if he hadn't been so selfish. To act anything different would be to destroy what little the name of Dahlios still meant.

Laying there she sighed as she waited, hearing the sound of a throat clearing she opened her eyes to see the crone holding out a flask. Carefully taking it she uncorked it before she shuddered, picking up the intoxicating scent of fresh blood. Sipping a bit of it she mentally recoiled in revulsion as her body shivered with pleasure at the sustenance that would repair it. She hated what she was, almost as much as she hated Seth. She bit back the moan, not wishing to indulge in this barbaric act. No matter how it was sliced, something had died to supply this blood, she was enjoying perhaps the murder of a well red human, designed to elicit the best response out of a vampire.

Once she had downed the flask a guard came to take her away. She looked at him as she carefully brushed some loose strands from her face. The guard helped her up before he shoved her before him, obviously establishing who was in charge. It tore at her pride, to be treated as a slave, but she endured only so she could get Kid out of there alive. Moving down the hallways she sighed as she walked in silence. It was always quiet, however, soon the gaurd began to talk.

"It's too bad you got your ass kicked..." His words again tore into her pride, but she bit back on them. Instead she waited silently counting so her temper would not show in her voice.

"I'm a big girl, a few scratches here and there never hurt," She replied.

"You sure you're alright? Might have a few bruises somewhere you don't know about..."

Sarah stopped as she looked over her shoulder at the gaurd. Was he hittingon her or insulting her? She couldn't tell, and that fact bothered her. She wasn't some piece of meat, but, with the way things were going, perhaps that what she had to be. She already was a tramp with all she had slept with to survive the lonely nights. Perhaps she should use that to her advantage again, this time for some good, instead of merely for her own twisted form of reliance.

"Maybe you could help me check it out, never know where they might hide..." The words were innocent enough, but laced with something sultry. Just enough to taunt, but never enough to submit. That was the line you tread, just out of reach, but obtainable, if you asked.

"Not tonight, but maybe tomorrow? I'm guarding the cells tomorrow, and I think we could work out a full physical..."

He was definitely hitting. So naive, so innocent.

So utterly perfect.

"Sounds like a plan...lets get back before I'm missed..." She purred as a smile crossed her lips.

[Letho]

It was a typical Dahlios battle, more words then blows. Letho knew that Sarah and Seth had some issues to deal with, an old grudge they had against each other, and that night it reared its ugly head. The fact that they had the same blood in their veins and same name didn’t quell the fire. On the contrary, it added fuel to it, making it roar and consume the battling pair much to the pleasure of the crowd. The Marshal never had any siblings, but he had witnessed several times how fiery sibling rivalry could be. Dahlios twins took that rivalry to the extreme. They fought as if they were the bitterest of enemies, spat curses and shoved their blades into flesh of their own flesh and did it without remorse.

During most of the battle Sarah seemed to have an upper hand. Letho saw the woman in action before, but the vampirism enhanced her, changed her and not necessarily for the better. She was faster, stronger, damn near unstoppable as she brought the infamous Lavinian Demon to the brink of death. And yet that same vampirism came at the price of her humanity, the curse settling down in the place where the remnants of her soul used to be. There were still glimpses of it – the concern for Kid was one of those scarce flashes of a former, better self – but most of the time she was a bitter woman, calloused by life to the point where the only thing she felt was rage and craving for vengeance. And Seth brought out the worst in her, it seemed.

In the process, Seth brought out the worst in himself as well. Seth Dahlios was an underdog in this fight, but this wasn’t an unfamiliar notion to the Lavinian. Letho knew the man long enough to know that Seth went through his life as an underdog, always fighting the odds, always fighting the demons both within and without. And he had a knack of making people delve up their darkest side. This was something that the Corone Marshal experienced on his own skin, in the Serenti Invitational. A seemingly trivial tournament battle turned into something that could’ve been the end of them both.

Tonight, the battle was less trivial, but the result was roughly the same. Seth was weaker, stronger, even reluctant at first, but in the end he was one who stood to bask in the cheers of the crowd. It was the magic that won the day, the strange kind that coated the male half of the duo in full armor and put a spear in his hands. Against the reach of the new weapon in his hands, Sarah was practically harmless, doomed to a certain loss. It was still a disappointment for the vampiric audience. Blood was spilled and abundantly, but death didn’t visit the arena tonight. Luckily for them and Carendas, there were other fights to follow, and judging by the brutish gladiators that were marched onto the sand of the coliseum next, they would be considerably more gory then the opener.

Letho didn’t pay much heed to the succeeding bouts, though. His leg was still hurting and watching the Dahlios pair go at it already strained his wound to the point it started to bleed and throb again. He moved back to his cot albeit gracelessly and gave his leg some reprieve from the strain. It was a good thing Carendas didn’t make him fight today. Chances were the Marshal would have to limp his way around the arena and that would make for a droll show. And Letho was pretty certain that he wasn’t brought here to meet his end in a mummer’s farce.

Unfortunately, the fact that he didn’t fight tonight also meant that he wasn’t granted to see Myrhia either. That thought concerned him more then his next opponent. Last time he was separated from the redhead, she got a throng of whip marks to show him at their next rendezvous. Reminiscing about the fresh scars on her back, of the way she recoiled and said it wasn’t bad... It still made Letho’s blood boil. He would kill Carendas, he knew. Perhaps it wouldn’t be tonight or the next night or even in a week, but eventually the vampire’s sinewy neck would be within the wringing grasp of the Marshal’s hands.

He was in his vengeful mood, clutching his fingers around a phantom limb of an enemy, when the Lavinians returned. Sarah was in significantly better shape, walking back to her cell with a smirk of a cat that got the cream and drank it along the way. Seth wasn’t as fortunate. If Sarah was the cat that got the cream, Seth was an old, haggard tom that got ganged up by an alley filled with bigger cats. At least, for all his anguish, he was given the company of his little lady who murmured words of hope, pleading words, a prayer spoken to no god in particular. Letho got up once again, much to the displeasure of his leg, and walked to the cell bars.

“He’ll live,” he said, his rough voice and his stringent eyes reaching Seth’s paramour. “I’ve learned long ago that Seth is like weed. Nobody likes it and it’s always in the wrong place, but no matter how hard you try to pluck it out, it keeps coming back. I daresay he’s more stubborn then me.”

They weren’t the most comforting words ever spoken. They were hard words spoken by a hard man without a grain of sugarcoating. In this wretched place there was no room for softness. More often then not, it brought nobody to life. More often then not, it got you killed.

[Dissinger]

He lay there, on the cot unmoving. No sign of the life that had brought him this far. Were it not for the fact his chest rose and fell, surely he would have been taken off to be buried or drained as a vampiric snack. Laying there eventually Liliana was removed from the cell, and the sun rose. Its rays washing over the brown hair and the skin of the thief, causing the first true sign of life, turning to prevent it from hitting his face.

It wasn't until shortly after the sun had set and darkness enveloped the world that he stirred. The first thing done was his eyes opening. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the lighting of his cell as he got up without a sound. Slipping from sheets he leaned heavily forward as he sat upon his bed. So much hatred, so much anger, and today it had come to the breaking point. He could hear the voices, the seductive tone, the urgent pleas to take the power. He now knew what they were, and the truth was disgusting.

They were him.

Every deep dark desire, every murderous thought he had acted upon, and even those left undone, were laid bare before him. A library of actions yet to be completed, and those done and signed for. He was as much their father as they were his task master. It was the fact he had destroyed his soul, shattered it beyond the repair he had undergone that had given birth to the very chorus he had grown to hate. How he loathed the silken voices, rallying his darkest emotions.

He felt eyes upon him as he raised his gaze. There too was him, perhaps the best parts of him. Stolen because of his lack of care, lack of regard for the lives he had stolen. He rose up as he leaned against the bars, still shaky, but no less off than when he had come to this gods forsaken place. Sarah looked at him, the first time he had looked her in them when they weren't fighting. SIlence seemed to reign as so much was shared in that long stare. A hand idly went to his trhoat, feeling the spot she had sunk her fangs into him.

"Its too late for this, but you deserve it, far more than you realize," He began, his voice hoarse, but his tone neutral, even, far from the arrogance he once draped himself in, while still avoiding the self loathing he once was infected by. "You're right, I'm trapped in the past, and thats unacceptable. I'm sorry."

Sarah seemed to watch him for a moment before she looked down at Kid and spoke, "Where do we go from here?"

"There is far too many things left undone. I could fill a book with every last one, but instead, lets finish a few..." The soft sound of metal upon metal could be heard as two prevalida daggers where unsheathed. He looked upon sarah before he slid them across the floor. "I can't change the past, but the more I cling to it, the more it controls me. I don't need those anymore, they only remind me that I am not the man I wished I was, and hold me back."

"Any other words?"

"Keep her safe."

Sarah looked at Seth for a moment, studying his face before she nodded, "I'll do everything I can to keep that one."

"I know."

"Thank you."

[Lavinian Pride]

Shortly after the discussion Sarah quickly picked up the dagger's. Hissing softly in pain as they attacked their new master she placed them carefully in her belt, so as to not cut her skin, furthering their curse. Kid still slept soundly as she did this, but she knew she'd have to test a few things out. Ebony and Ivory where quite rebellious against her, which made her wonder about the curse that they contained.

It was perhaps for the best that she had completed the task quickly, for shortly after the sound of a cane bashing against bars could be heard. Groans issued through the room as the sounds of purposeful footsteps resounded. Each one steadily getting towards the pair before Cardenas walked in sight. His face was a mask, but Sarah couldn't help but detect a bit of fear as he turned to Seth's cage. Seeing Seth up seemed to make the fear disappear before he spoke, "I trust you're alive and well?"

"Be better if you'd let me walk out of here," Seth grumbled.

Cardenas laughed, perhaps nervously before he spoke, "Perhaps, but I think for now we should get you prepared. You'll be bathed, clohtes cleaned and washed, armor up kept along with knives. Upon this we will make sure you're at your peak when you fight. As soon as you're ready, we'll progress with your fight. Kycoo has already spoke his wishes in the matter, so just know you are allowed any wishes you want as far as the fight is concerned."

"How, generous. I'll be sure to start the list now..." Seth muttered dryly.

The cane snapped under the pressure of hitting the bars. Kid jumped seeing the display of anger as Sarah raised an eyebrow smirking. This was Seth as intended, uninhibited, and as vile of tongue as he was the day he became cursed. Seth to his benefit didn't flinch as the wooden splinters before he looked up at Cardenas looking the man in the eyes. He could see the hatred, the fires of anger burning hotly behind those callous dead orbs and smiled before he said, "Tempter , Temper, I shoudl hate to see a General be so ill composed. What would your father say?"

"Speak of my Father again and you'll wish you survive to fight his bastard child," Cardenas spat as he gripped the abrs and said, "Listen to me wretch and listen well. Your performance has been one disappointment after another. You have singlehandedly destroyed any enthusiasm the crowd has for you, and for waht ends? I would just as soon kill the damn whore-"

"Finish that sentence, and you won't survive to finish the order to carry it out," Seth replied. Sarah could see something stirring in Seth as he got up and walked to the bars.

"You will submit to me Dahlios, or I will take everything you hold dear from you, starting with that harlot you call friend. I will not tolerate your actions anymore...one more disappointment, and she will die, and you will become my plaything...You may think you can act smug, knowing what I am and what I've become, but let me tell you this Dahlios, you are nothing but the dirt beneath my feet to me...Why Father shows any interest in you at all is-"

"None of your concern brother. Now, get him out of the cage and lets finish this farce, so we can let Kycoo go and recover his body..." A gentler voice came as the sounds of quickened footsteps came. Cardenas seemed to stiffen as his head turned. A woman stood with long red hair, draped to her shoulders fully curled and cared for. Her dress was more conservative, hiding any feature that would man a man openly explore her curves, while not diminishing them at all. It too was a vibrate red. Her eyes scanning over the area as she looked upon Seth with green piercing eyes, "So you are the rogue everyone has been arguing over? I must say, until I saw you fight yesterday, I was unimpressed. Perhaps there is some truth to the claims..."

"General Reyes, I was unaware you would be here. I thought we agreed to-"

"I know what we agreed to, but I also know you brother. Leave, at once, I'll take care of Seth. Your only job is to guard your insurance of his compliance. Anything else, will have Father brought here directly to deal with you, are we clear Brother?" The voice cut through him harshly. Her words were quick and to the point. Despite the fact her garb was more of a Noble's dress, Seth couldn't help but feel something underlying, something left unsaid. She smiled as she said, "I see those looks. You have many questions, perhaps some can be answered, before you die-"

"If I die," Seth responded. A trace of anger was in his voice as he spoke, as if the pride was talking more than the man.

"Before you die tonight," She replied sternly. She then smiled as she said, "But first, your last meal, anything you wish shall be supplied. Guard!" She gestured forward with a military efficiency as the guard came rushing over grabbing his keys. Opening the cell he opened it before he gestured Seth forward.

"How, benevolent, to feed me before I die. Perhaps you show more courtesy to your condemned, but why even bother?"

The guard closed the gate as he grabbed Seth roughly by the shoulder before the woman glared at him, "Unhand him. Now."

"I'm sorry General, but Cardenas-" The guard was cut off as she roughly twisted his arm off Seth, forcing the guard to his knees.

"Is no longer in charge tonight, I am. You will let me escort him. I assure you, any attempt by him to injure me, will be met with lethal force," The general barked. She then released his arm before she roughly shoved him back towards his spot, "Cardenas may stand on protocols when he plays his shadow games, but I am no puppet, and the strings are mine tonight. You will follow my instructions to the letter."

As she walked off with Seth she stopped only briefly before she turned and glanced squarely at Sarah. Here eyes seemed to drill into her own as she shuddered, feeling something amiss in the gaze she gave her before she spoke, leading Seth forth, "We shall talk over your last meal, there is much to discuss. Somethings even Cardenas is unaware..."

Sarah only waited form Seth to go before she rubbed her arms, trying to warm up. Looking at Letho she shook her head. There was no way Seth would survive anything that woman had a hand in. She wasn't sure who this Reyes was, but she was far more fearsome than Cardenas, in spite of the temper tantrums. As she leaned against the bars she looked at the Guard, who seemed more than wounded in pride before she spoke up, "Excuse me, I think Kid needs to report over to the Blood puppet area for breakfast..."

"In a moment," The gaurd snapped as Sarah looked at kid softly.

She looked at Sarah before she whispered, "I want to stay with you Sarah, its getting scary around here now..."

Sarah knelt beside the girl before she spoke, "I need your bravery now Kid, now more than ever. Find out where Myrhia is, and find Liliana if you can. If they're together, tell them to stay that way as long as possible..."

Kid nodded silently as she whispered, "I'll try Sarah." She then clung to Sarah as she instinctively wrapped her arms around Kid. She then closed her eyes as she said softly, "We're getting out of here Kid. Its just a matter of time..."

[Dissinger]

"You know, you're probably the luckiest of them all..." The words broke the silence as Seth walked down the hallways, the mysterious Reyes behind him. His eyes were constantly observing, the way the guards acted around her, her cool and stern approach to how things were done. She was a general? Her garb certainly didn't betray that truth, if truth it was indeed.

"How is that? I figured killing my parents was a rather unlucky thing to have happen..." Seth replied bitterly.

"I see the old traditions remain in Lavinya. Brother is doing a horrid job then. I would have thought those stupid ideals would have been stomped out of you for a more, opportunistic point of view. Do you not see the strength you've gained? Do you not see how everything you could ever desire is laid bare before you?" The woman spoke as she lead him into another room. Sitting on a table was a fine meal, of which there was a glass, with an all too familiar bottle sitting next to it.

He walked up picking up the bottle before he sniffed it, smelling an all too familiar scent. Setting the bottle down he said, "Cardenas is a stalker isn't he?"

"I liken him to an attack dog. When given direction he's rather good at getting the job done, but he's still an animal, and still has problems remembering who's the master..."

Seth snorted as he sat down at the table. Eating the food carefully he sighed as the woman seemed to watch over him. He continued to eat the prepared meal before he spoke up, "So which Traitor were you?"

"That is none of your concern. However, I can give you any and all information you could ever want about Kycoo. You can perhaps figure out what your forefather could not. Kycoo is, after all, the one who drove you into the madness that killed your parents. Am I right?" The words hung in the air. Seth looked up to see her piercing eyes drilling. They were green however; he could see the deadness, as profound as Cardenas' the lifeless way they looked about as she studied him.

"You are," Seth replied simply. He then sipped straight from the bottle, causing a bit of a giggle to rise from her lips. A smirk crossed his face as he said, "Why waste perfectly good ale on a glass? Straight from the bottle, glasses are for sharing..."

"I still don't get how I could offer you everything you'd want to kill Kycoo, and yet you won't take it. Its power, power you need. I cannot believe that someone who had the opportunity could so willingly throw it away now. Is that truly your wish? To die here and be known as a monster, to not even clear the family name you seem to cherish oh so much? Do you want the Dahlios legacy to die here and now?" She was sitting on the table next to him as she pointed at him, his weapons, everything. Trying to underline her point, to a man who had heard it all too well.

That was the question, if he truly had the ability to do what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted, how could he turn his back on such power? He could destroy Althanas itself if he truly gave into the power, and yet he resisted, to the point of destroying his life, his name, his family. He was forfeiting the right to become someone truly to be feared, rather than the shadow of his former self.

"Please, you're ruining the mood. I would like to keep things somber, your jokes aren't amusing," Seth replied.

"Answer the question damnit! Why, out of all who have tread the path of Hex Magic, do you try to go off this beaten path and become something we both know you're not?"

"Because the sky is blue, the grass is green, and somewhere a little boy kissed a girl wrong for the first time. Because this is my gods be damned life, and you are not entitled to comment on it. Even if you're able to wipe this floor clean with my battered and broken body, you cannot live my life for me. You need to understand your place in this world General, and if you think its to control me, you are sorely mistaken," Seth replied as he looked her in the eyes. She held the gaze for awhile before she sighed almost resigning.

"Take off your gear, they'll prepare it for the fight. When you take your bath your clothes will be tended to, if not replaced entirely. Any other last requests?" Her words seemed hollow compared to the passionate words spoken not a minute before.

"Liliana..."

"The Priestess you defrocked?"

Seth snorted as he chuckled, "Yes, the Priestess I defrocked. She need not suffer for my life. I want you to make sure she gets to Lavinya. Even if I die, I want my death to know it was protecting her to the last..."

"Cardenas had other plans for her you know, to go against that-"

"Oh please, you and I both know he's below you on the pecking order. You wouldn't be in this position any other way. I certainly don't think its your good looks. If it was only that you wouldn't be referred to as a General, nor would he treat you like his sister, holding back when he would normally destroy anyone who defied him.

"And who said the Revenian's are dead," She sighed as she looked upon him. Finally she spoke, "I will do as you ask, but on one condition..."

"What's that?"

"I give gifts only fleetingly, nothing I ever give is retained. If I give you your lover's life, down the road, I reserve the right to take it."

Seth remained silent a long while. Reyes seemed to smile as she offered perhaps the most convoluted conundrum ever. His lover would be safe, but for how long would be the question. It could be five seconds of freedom, or five years. Either way, accepting the deal would be a desperate gamble, a final ploy from a played out man, long since out of ideas.

"What if I traded for her?" Seth replied.

"What do you have that you could possibly offer me?"

"That’s my question of course..."

Reyes looked upon Seth before she lightly traced a finger along the scar, that sat upon his left cheek. The burn from when a man had ruined his face, out of spite. He closed his eyes as he waited, she was going to ask something, and he knew he wouldn't like it.

"You did thwart Beatrix, and as misguided as she is, she usually gets what she wants. That in itself was an impressive feat. You know, it was Beatrix that began this whole mess for you. She told the council of your meddling. Of Ravenheart, and Cardenas, being the kind of man he is, quickly rose to the task of making sure you would be held captive. However, that leaves the population of our camp with a rather, dire predicament..."

"You're inbred..." Seth replied. His eyes closed, he had guessed after Beatrix's attempts to seduce him. The saucy red head who was unhinged, had been his cousin, deadlier than the thief, and yet completely incapable of the capturing him either. As crazy as she was beautiful, she had assaulted Seth, trying to find a way to make him sleep with her, before she would leave his life. The problem was that he had seen through her, before she could dig her nails into him, and possibly get what she was looking for. A way to introduce new, breeding material into an inbred race, trying desperately to preserve itself from the inherent problems their choices entailed.

"Well, I am not, but you hit the nail on the head. We need diversity Seth, or we'll slowly succumb to the problems of a dying race. We will not have enough diversity, and we will slowly crumble and wither away," She said softly as she idly played with his scar, "You know, I can take any form you want, make it as easy or hard as you want. I don't do this lightly, to even be considered like this is an honor-"

"And that's your problem; I'm nothing more than breeding stock that needs to breed one last time before I get sent off to the slaughter house..." Seth replied as he sipped the Ale some more, it was as bitter as the situation he found himself in.

"Well, the deal is set, either you breed with me, or your little lady is not guaranteed to live beyond today. I mean, you two were tying for a child yes? What if she's-"

"She's not," Seth replied sternly. He then continued, "We were heading back to Lavinya to lay low while we started our life over, let the whispers fade and finally get out of the gutters of my life."

"Then why does it matter? If she dies, there is no consequence to you, who will already be dead when she draws her final breath. Wouldn't you rather see her in the afterlife?"

She was playing expertly, that was for sure. She was looking for information, while forcing Seth's hand. Finally he spoke his voice even, "I made the mistakes, and I pay for them. She need not suffer on my account. I'd rather she never has to worry about me again, but we both know that’s impossible. She has her whole life in front of her, no need to take it from her so soon."

"The deal is set in stone. You can either accept the deal, or not. If not, then we go back to our original deal, where I will let her free, but have the right to kill her without reprisal from you, should you some how crawl back from the depths of hell to seek your vengeance..."

Seth's eyes closed as he said, "Let me think, you'll know before the fight..."

Reyes smiled, softly as she said; "Now we're talking."

[Lavinian Pride]

The door to her cell opened, letting kid wander off before looking back one last time at Sarah. She smiled at kid as she said, "Go on, have a good morning Kid, and don't worry about me..."

As the small girl turned the corner she looked at the guard as he seemed to be studying her. Closing the gate she leaned upon it as he began to put the key in the lock. Studying the key she said softly, "You know, I think you promised me a full physical..."

The guard stopped for a second as he looked at her. She gave him a soft smile as she reached through the bars, placing her hand gently upon his. He seemed to shiver slightly at that as he spoke, "I don't know, it isn't Cardenas in charge tonight. If it was I'd be more than-"

The hand moved to place a gentle finger against his lips before she whispered, "What that bitch doesn't know, can't hurt. Besides, Cardenas won't be the one to punish you, and anything she comes up with, cannot be any worse than Cardenas. I'd wager she doesn't know how to hurt one of us. Besides, you could write it off as "helping" one of the gladiators..."

The guard smiled as he said softly, "We have to hurry, if I take too long, we may be interrupted."

Sarah grinned as she said softly, "Won't take that long...I do however have a rather...refined taste however..."

As the guard moved into the cell he smiled as he spoke, "What is it?"

"I like to be chained up. Its a bit of a thrill you know, being helpless and used like that..."

He smiled as he whispered, "Well then, Let me get some really quick..." He then rushed locking the door behind him as she sat patiently on her cot. As he returned the shackles in hand she smiled as she moved the cot close to the bars of the cell. Patting the spot next to her he smiled as he came over.

Kissing him softly she whispered, "Lets hurry, not much time..."

"No arguement there," He said as he began to kiss her wildly. As they continued to kiss she pressed him hard onto the cot before she reached up and pulled the leather thong from her hair, letting it drape over her shoulders. As she began to kiss him she wrapped the chains around the bars and gently intertwined her hands in his. Breaking it only when it seemed prudent to let him talk she would giggle at whatever nonsense he would say, that was, until the click on the shackles around his wrists resounded through the cell. "What's going on Sarah?"

Pulling her hair back into a ponytail she sighed before she reached down, pulling the key's from his pants. She then spoke, her tone the usual harsh tone she gave anyone, "Whats wrong, is your kind sired me. What's wrong is you're imprisoning people against their will. What's wrong is that you took away perhaps my only chance for happiness. But thats okay, after Cardenas is through with you for letting me free, you'll have an idea of my pain..."

Walking out of the cell she closed and locked it as she waved happily to the doomed guard. Turning to Letho she walked up and without a second thought put the key to the cells in and twisted, freeing him from his prison. She then spoke, "Kid should be back shortly, after we know where Myrhia is, its only a matter of finding Liliana and getting out of here. Seth's providing a distraction with his fight. He'll hold out as long as he can, so we only have a limited amount of time to move..."

The other gladiators looked on as they rushed to their gates. Sarah sighed as she looked upon them, almost pityingly. She then spoke to the crowd, "If I free you I cannot guarantee your safety, let alone that you'll remain free. Further, if I free you, I can't even help you get out of here. If you're willing to take those risks, I'll let you guys free, but I can't ask you to join me, I can't take on too much."

Up to you how many we free, you can bunny Kid to a degree leading us on and through the arena a bit.

[Letho]

Given his history with both Dahlios siblings, Letho shouldn’t have been surprised when Sarah slithered out of her prison like the vixen she was. It seemed that Sarah and Seth always had a joker up their sleeves regardless of the situation. The shady dealings Seth had with the mysterious woman that others called a general were unknown to the Marshal and he was quite content to leave them that way. Sarah breaking free, however, and unlocking his cell was an outcome that brought a smirk to his face. Freedom was nigh and so was vengeance, and the opposing smells of both made the swordsman eager for some action.

“We’ll need numbers to take over the armory,” Letho said to Sarah, taking the chain of keys from her hands and unlocking the cells of those that were unwilling to serve as Carendas’ puppets in a gory show. A stubborn few remained sitting on their cots, the life of a gladiator obviously more appealing to them then freedom, but most were out and ready to pave their way to freedom with blood. The Marshal spoke to the motley crew gathered around Sarah and him, sounding a bit like a general before a battle. “There are usually eight of them there, five guards in the main preparation room, two protecting the chamber with the weaponry and a healer in the adjacent infirmary. After we take those out, you’ll have to find your own way out.”

There were no objections. These warriors weren’t soldiers that needed a leader figure to tell them what to do. All they needed was a sword in their hand and they’d make a beautiful mess out of things. A perfect distraction, Letho thought as he led the way out of the dungeon. Carendas’ troops will have quite an outbreak on their hands, leaving themselves blind to a pair that planned to enter the heart of the arena compound.

They reached the armory unobstructed. A pair of hallways that connected the cell area to the preparation room was vacant, but the sentries that were supposed to be guarding it waited them in the armory. Obviously, with Carendas anxious from the visit of this mysterious woman, and with the woman herself quite busy with Seth, they found it more appropriate to chat with some of their comrades then man their posts. They weren’t lax for long, though. As soon as Letho’s foot sent the door slamming against the wall, their weapons were out as fast as their fangs, both ready to contain this outbreak. But even if they weren’t outnumbered – which they were, about two to one – they had one agitated Marshal on their hands.

The closest vampire hissed and came at Letho in seething rage, uttering something comprehensible only to his kindred and thrusting the sword at the chest of the man. The Coronian Ranger moved faster then he ever did in the arena, struck stronger then he thought he could. If liberation gave men wings, wrath gave them power and Letho had both. Stepping sideways and away from the skewering blow, he trapped the vampire’s wrist with his left while his right elbow made a deformed grimace out of the face of his opponent. Stunned but not quite dead yet, the vampire could do little to oppose the Marshal as he tried to pry the sword from his fingers. But the remaining bloodsuckers were on the move by then as well, clashing with the freed prisoners in a din of clattering metal and agonizing screams.

Another came for Letho as he wrestled for the sword, forcing the bearded swordsman to improvise and use the blade of the dazed vampire on his much more spry comrade. The blade sunk into the chest of one guard, eliciting a scream that got drowned in the ashes of his burning flesh. By then the Marshal managed to snatch the free the sword from the clutches of vampire’s fingers and send it clean through the neck of its previous owner. Around him, Sarah and the freed gladiators – now armed and at least twice as dangerous – were making a short work out of others. Letho left them to their bloodwork; he still had to retrieve his sword.

The room adjacent to the armory looked significantly less crude, with its polished floor tiles and bright illumination of the torches in their mirrored sconces. It was split in half by a wall made of stone in middle of which were the heavyset metal doors secured by a padlock and a set of chains. Before this safe stood a pair of guards clothed differently from the rest, their dark uniforms almost neat enough to make them look like officers. Neither of them flinched as Letho entered the room.

“Drop your weapons and I might just let you live, vermin,” Letho commanded, pointing the longsword he took from the vampire he killed moments earlier at the pair. The blood-drinking duo appreciated neither his tone nor his words. One of them unsheathed a decorated scimitar, the other a blade that was all too familiar to the Marshal.

“You came for your blade, Marshal?” the vampire in possession of an adamantine sword asked, spinning the weapon in a gesture of showmanship. “You can have it, wedged in your own corpse!”

The twosome of sentinels tried to take the initiative, but Letho was already on the move, swatting away the bastard sword of his opponent before he slammed the vampire against the solid rock of the wall. The second guard was on top of him by then, but a quick pivoting motion made the scimitar clash against the crude longsword. With the weapons in a lock, Marshal shoved at his foe, utilizing the power of his muscles to pin the vampire against a wall. Another shove against the hilt of his blade forced the vampire’s own blade into his own neck. The bloodsucking creature just began to gurgle, choking in its own accursed blood, when Letho cut open its chest with a spinning slice.

The vampire in possession of his heavy adamantine sword was back on his feet by then, ready to do better the second time around, but Letho was caught in a righteous frenzy. He spun away from the strike, brought his blade down at the outstretched elbow of his enemy’s weapon hand, lopping it off cleanly. The vampire was about to scream something horrible, but the blade tip that pierced his torso from behind and caught the heart in the process, turning him into naught but ash and smoke.

Tossing the inferior weapon aside, the bearded Marshal wrenched his sword away from the clutch of the dead, pale fingers. Behind him in the preparation room, the commotion that the gladiators made was dying down. But Letho didn’t rejoin Sarah just yet. He was out for revenge, and he would need some proper tools if he were to pay Carendas a visit. And chances were that there was something useful beyond the metal doors that stood before him. Imbedding his sword between chain links, the Marshal gave it a fierce tug, cutting through the lesser metal with little difficulty. The door screeched like a dying beast as he pulled it outwards and beyond them was an assortment of weaponry that would make some of the greatest collectors stare in awe. Letho didn’t waste his time on feasting his eyes on the sheen of the metal. He browsed through the items with haste, ultimately picking up a kite shield made of what looked like burgundy dragonscales. Satisfied with his find, he left the armory and returned to the preparation room.

And just in time, it seemed. At the far side of the room, beyond the bloodied corpses and ash piles, Sarah was standing with Kid who was to be their guide through the confines of Carendas’ coliseum.

“Did you find them, child?” he asked the tyke that seemed so out of place in all this slaughter. It was a miracle that she wasn’t balled up in some corner, sobbing and sniffling. “Did you find where Myrhia and Liliana are?”

[Dissinger]

Seth stared at the gauntlets for awhile. As things began to unwind and the prisoners escaped, he was in his own little world, with his guide the enigmatic General Reyes. As he sighed, he picked the gauntlets up, feeling a softness the leather had not had in quite some time. The plates cleanly polished the leather and metal pieces of armor treated with the utmost respect and courtesy. Despite them having never received that treatment in their existence, tonight they gleamed as if fresh off the merchant’s shelf.

As he put them on he caught movement at the peripheral. Reyes was on the prowl, trying to find weakness in a man that had many. As he pulled the laces on the gauntlets tight he sighed and looked upon the other things on the table;

Daggers, all laid out cleanly and neatly, in order of size. All familiar to him, all sharpened and when applicable, recolored with the chemical dye weapon black. As he picked up the belt he sighed, seeing the sheathes for each of his tools of murder, hanging from the belt waiting for their wayward children to return home. The smell of leather polish emanated form the belt as it too had been cleaned and polished, the stains of blood he had just not cared enough to clean were conspicuously missing. Truly they wanted him to look dignified and his best, before his death.

"Have you made your decision?" Her voice rang through his head as he brought the belt around in a practiced maneuver and began to insert knife after knife. He continued to ignore her as he slid the lung poppers, followed by Spite, and finished with Malice, a gauntleted hand resting on spite as she cleared her throat, "Have you-"

"I heard you," Seth replied. A soft grin crept across his face as he heard her shift, a visible sign of irritation.

"Then what is your answer?" The voice was stern, General Reyes showing no patience for the antics of the doomed man. Seth meanwhile drew it out longer as he flexed one of his hands into a fist. Looking at the gauntlet with keen interest he finally raised his eyes into the green eyes of his opponent.

"My answer? I have one, and I hope you're willing to accept it, it is my dying wish after all," Seth replied. General Reyes raised a slender eyebrow as she looked upon him. An interest was growing inside her eyes; she seemed poised to ask another question. Seth could see this as he grinned softly, the captive audience more to his liking than ever before. As he moved to walk towards the entrance he spoke again, "We have little time, so I suppose I should give it soon, before I need to go atone."

"What is it already?" The General snapped.

"Patience, you certainly wouldn't want to rush my last few moments, they're all I have left my General."

[Lavinian Pride]

As she followed Letho through the halls they hit the armory, the first logical step to any true insurrection began with arming the angry mob. Once that was accomplished, it then fell upon them to continue to spread chaos and anarchy through the Arena, while Letho Sarah and the girls escaped with their lives, in a daring rescue never seen before. That was the plan at least.

As they poured in however, Sarah soon learned just how difficult it would be to play her part in that plan. As soon as they rushed the first Guard, she felt her body Jerk forward, as she tried to rush between people. As she felt trapped within the confines of her flesh she shuddered as she began to roughly shove people back trying to claw her way forward, but too late. Even as she began to irritate the crowd further they were long dead by the time she had reached them, Letho quickly dispatching of the vampiric guards.

What in the hells? Was the sobering thought as she looked at her hands in betrayal. Sighing softly she looked up to see Kid rushing through the throng to her. Hugging the child tightly she shook her head as Kid looked upon her worried;

"Sarah, what’s wrong?"

"I lost control of myself not too long ago, when they attacked the vampires-" Sarah was cut off.

"Of course you did," Kid replied in a childish matter of fact tone.

Sarah frowned as she stood up looking down at Kid before she said, "What do you mean of course?"

"You're a thrall Sarah!" Kid said as if she should have realized the implication already.

"Let me tell you something, I didn't choose the station, so I sure as hell don't know the perks!" Sarah snapped a bit irritated at the situation. What did being a thrall have to do with loss of control?

"Thralls can't let fellow Vampires come to harm. They also can't hurt them, directly or indirectly, it’s so they don't rebel and gain power! I thought you knew that..." Kid replied confused. She seemed almost put off by the harsh words Sarah spoke.

Now it made sense, why she couldn't hurt Lord Mizami, why Rianna had devastated her in the alleyway after the siring. Why she had not been able to pull daggers on the guards when she wanted to, let alone reach out and waylay one for the keys. She was a liability in a plan fast becoming their only option.

As Letho rushed forward his words cut through the thoughts of Sarah, brining her back to the present situation, where many of the gladiators were already hard at work, arming and preparing for war.

"Myrhia is in the Blood Puppet corridor, but Liliana isn't there. I think Cardenas was going to use her to ensure Seth gave it his all, rather than disappoint again. I can lead you to Myrhia, but Liliana could be anywhere right now..." Kid reported as bravely as she could to the marshal.

Sarah sighed as she thought about what was going on, there was a lot to do, and little time to do it, the only way it could work is if she was as uninvolved as possible. She also had to stop Letho from seeing the fight at all costs, especially if Seth was to be slaughtered. It wouldn't take long watching it for the Marshall to figure out Seth would be outclassed, and his chivalric code would ruin any hopes of Seth dying being the distraction to get out.

Looking at Letho she spoke calmly, "I'll go to the Stables, Kid knows where they are, Grab Myrhia and head for the Stables, we can at least make sure we have an escape plan ready for when we go after Liliana."

There we go, feasible, and won't reveal too much, I hope Sarah thought her mind racing with possibilities.

[Letho]

“What about Seth? Sarah, what about...” But the only response he got was the diminishing TAP-TAP-TAP of the vixen’s boots as she swung around the corner and scurried away towards the stables. When his eyes turned to his one remaining companion, the uncannily bold tyke, there was no more of an answer to be found there then there was in Sarah’s fading footsteps. Kid just looked up towards him with a blend of queasiness and respect, eager to get moving but intimidated by the bulky swordsman enough to keep her tongue at bay. Either they weren’t terribly concerned for the wellbeing of the Lavinian Demon, Letho thought, or they figured that Seth had his own scheme to get out. That should’ve been enough of a reassurance for the Marshal. Only it wasn’t.

True, there was never any love between the two of them. In fact, there was pretty much everything else – hate, disgust, dislike, enmity, swords, blood, curses, women – except fondness. They were always on the opposite side of the spectrum, always contradicting each other, always locking antlers and beating their chest and fighting for dominance. Letho should’ve been glad that there was a chance for Seth not to get out of this pickle alive and for the world to rid itself of the infamous Thief Extraordinare. And yet there was a rotten feeling in his gut, a sort of a vague sensation of wrongness a person got when he looked away from a beggar or walked away from a one-sided street fight. Perhaps the world would be better off without Seth, but this was not the way the Lavinian should perish.

However, there was nothing to be done on that matter. The coliseum complex was huge, riddled with passages and populated with vampiric vermin. Letho would’ve sooner found his own death than prevented Seth’s. Besides, there was somebody more important waiting for his rescue.

“Come on. Lead the way, lassie. We don’t have much time.”

With an obedient nod, the child left the room that reeked of ashen death and fresh blood and entered the adjacent corridor. She was a shadow, a specter, lithe and soundless, slinking from one corner to the next. Compared to her, Letho was a bull in a porcelain shop, the echo of his every step bouncing back and forth from one monotonous rock wall to the other and back again. Twice they had to stop their advance through the torch lit tunnels because his heavy footsteps attracted the nearby guards. But coming one or two at a time, they fell to Letho’s sword easily enough.

A staircase took them up a several levels, making them leave the lifeless gray of the dungeon floors behind. Corridors of roughly hewn stone gave way to polished tiles, cracked walls were replaced by silky tapestries, portraits of people unknown to the Marshal and motifs comprehensible only to the vampiric kin. Natural light was banished from the premises, the interior shielded from the sunrays by several layers of heavy drapes, but torches and candlesticks were aplenty, casting their sullen illumination on the uncanny pair. It was a dreadful place of cold splendor, the kind that closed in on you as you walked the halls, the kind that made you feel unwelcome. Kid ultimately stopped her advance in a hallway that connected to an extremely large reception area beyond which the double doors were shut tight.

“That’s the place. I saw them take Myrhia inside. Only...” The youngster hesitated for but a moment, but Letho was far too close to his love to have the patience for stammering.

“Only what, child? Speak up!”

“There’s something... Some kind of magic guarding the door,” Kid did her best to explain, fidgeting but a little beneath Letho’s piercing gaze. “I saw it shimmer when they approached. They spoke some gibberish and it disappeared. But when I tried to get closer, it started to sparkle again.”

“Goddamn magics,” the Marshal muttered, shifting his eyes to the door and the dormant enchantment that guarded it. Of course it couldn’t be as easy as walking straight in and causing a ruckus. He looked back at the girl at his side. “You did good. Now go to Sarah. We’ll be with you shortly.”

After another nod, they went their separate ways, Kid doubling back the way they came and Letho stepping into the crimson light of the massive chandelier that hung from the ceiling, laden with a multitude of crystals. He went around the lengthy table that dominated the room, his steps muffled by the carpeting so lush he almost felt like he was leaving footprints. When he swung around the throne-like chair at the head of the table and there was nothing between him and the doors, the magic that Kid mentioned came alive. A sheet of energy materialized, sizzling and humming like a piece of metal charged with electricity, growing in density with each step that Letho made. When the swordsman stood but a few feet from it, the door beyond the magic shield could barely be seen and white tendrils snapped and crackled at his arrival. In the middle of this blockade was a symbol of sorts, a glyph whose significance was lost on the Marshal. All that mattered was that he was on this side of the door and Myrhia was on the other.

He charged. He threw his entire weight behind a forward kick of his boot and hoped that the magic doesn’t electrocute him to death before his bludgeoning strike broke through. Unfortunately for him and his foot, he never got close to the wood beyond. The protective magic reacted, sending a lightning bolt strong enough to throw the Marshal, his foot, his sword and his shield some fifteen feet backwards, sliding over the polished surface of the table. When Letho finally got to his senses, he was staring up at the chandelier, his leg was numb up to the hip and it smelled like someone burned the roast.

“Well, that didn’t work,” the muscular swordsman squeezed out as he struggled to get off the wooden slab and back onto his feet. The magic was gone from its guarding position before the door, but even as he limped his way to the door, it reemerged. Instead of flinging himself, this time Letho picked up one of the massive chairs, but the result was pretty much the same. The only difference was that the chair shattered into a rain of splinters and embers whereas he was still in one piece.

“What’s with all the ruckus?!” a voice came from beyond the double barricade. “Who disturbs me at this hour?” The mundane door behind the magic one opened inwards to present a rather stupefied Carendas. However, the surprise was only temporary. Safe behind his magical seal, the vampire’s visage soon retrieved the usual brash placidity.

“Ah, Marshal Ravenheart? Come to visit your little woman? But it’s way past visiting hours.”

The vampire mocked him. Somewhere behind the accursed creature, Letho could hear Myrhia call out, her voice almost lost in the buzz of the magic and the fake laughter of the bastard. Letho wanted to charge again, wanted to push his hands through that wall of energy and wrap them around the pale Carendas’ neck even if it meant losing them. Instead he vented his frustration by flinging his shield at the smug tyrant, and to both their surprise, the damned thing went through the barrier like it wasn’t there. The enchantment shattered like a mirror before the trajectory of the dragonscale shield, and only pure reflex saved Carendas from getting his head lopped off by the razor-sharp edge of the shield. Instead, the vampire ducked and rolled away, the shield imbedded itself in the stone wall beyond and Letho tightened his grip around his sword. It was time to repay the bastard for the pain he caused.

“Justice is nigh, you bastard. Steel yourself!”

[Dissinger]

His footsteps were light. Each one carrying him closer to what he knew was Death. He knew better than to try and run from Death, it had always walked beside him, an ally taking the lives of his foes in return for ignoring him. However, today death was the enemy, today Death had seen a fatal weakness in Seth, and had turned upon its former ally, seeking to bring his soul to the afterlife, where he would spend the rest of his days in hell.

Entering into the night the lights shone through the arena, his head lowering as he adjusted his eyes to the much brighter lighting. Before him was a shadow of a man, if his opponent could even be called that. He moved slowly forward, his steps deliberate, showing no fear. His gaze rose as he was able to see the bald head, the goatee immaculately taken care of. The robes were still there, the boots he wore immaculately clean. A smug grin was on the man’s face and so Seth moved forward. He was easily dwarfed by this man, but he cared not. He had a job to do.

“Brood of Dahlios, you seem stronger than when we last met. Has Mordechai been pushing you in the right direction?” The man spoke. Seth snorted at the honorific, he was a man, he had a name, and he would have it be known to this freak by the end of it. In the meantime he had to buy time, for even now the plan was in effect, and he couldn’t afford to let it fail. Not with the stakes so high.

“Kycoo, the mistake, how have you been? I’ve been looking for you. I should have known to check under a rock,” Seth replied arrogance dripping from every word as the audience began to chant and cheer for their perceived champion.

“Still the same asinine fool you always have been. What tricks do you have up your sleeve Dahlios? Perhaps that dragon bone dagger? Spite I believe you named it…” The homunculi said as he grinned and merely raised a hand. With a gesture Seth felt something brace against him and shove hard, but Seth ignored it as he stood there not moving. The crowd watched in stunned silence as the play was stopped by Seth without as much as a gesture.

"I'm sorry, is this the part where I cower in fear? If you wish I could always play the part," Seth replied calmly as his feigned boredom with the act. Kycoo had not spoken when he committed to that action was he a true mage? If so, he was screwed. Ignoring the rising fear in his chest he merely waited.

"I don't do this with relish Dahlios; to kill a potential ally always sits wrong with me. I seek to gather people to fight my father, not kill them," Kycoo said his face taking on a pained expression.

"You should have thought of that before you reflected my spell back at me. You should have thought of that before you stepped up to challenge me here and now. You-" He swept a hand to his side as if to emphasize his point.

"Save your tirade Seth, this is neither time, nor place," Kycoo said as he looked upon Seth, that same sadness upon his features.

"I'll kill you, and cleanse my sins with your blood failure! This I promise!" Seth said as he pulled dagger's charging the homunculi. A slash went for the man's side as he blocked the blow at the wrist stopping it. A swing slashed across the man's chest only to be gripped with the other. Seth struggled against the larger man as he growled out letting his anger free, "Let go of me you abomination!"

Kycoo did as commanded as he brought his palm forward in a shot that hit Seth square in the chest, a resounding crack sounding through the air as a bone snapped under the pressure of being pushed. Seth slid back a few feet before he fell to his knees clutching his chest. It hurt to breathe, and if that was a mere shove, he shuddered to think what a full blow could do. This man had Daniel Wilhmhearst's strength, and none of his fiery temper. He was in trouble, if he had anything else, he would be done in before he began.

Still, he had to fight on, and give Letho and the other's a chance. If he didn't he wasn't sure Sarah could get them out. Pulling a lung popper he threw it with precision, aiming right for the face of his adversary as he growled lowly letting his fear and anger overtake him. Pushing forth he shouted, "Fight me you coward!"

"If that is your wish," Kycoo said as he punched forward. The shot connected with Seth's stomach before it did not stop there. Blood flowed freely as the punch was so hard it tore through the flesh entering his body. Blood flowed over his lips as he shuddered violently. It was then Kycoo said softly, "Your fate is to die here; I can only offer to make it quick."

Shoving Seth back with his other hand Seth collapsed to the ground as the blood began to pool beneath him. It was getting cold as the blood that had flowed through him began to seep out of his body. The ground could only greedily absorb so much, and to the vampire's delight, it began to form into a small puddle. Cheers erupting at the bloody conflict. This is what they wanted, a man brutally beaten down, and overpowered.

"Stay down and bleed out Dahlios, if you do, I will make sure your friends make it out of here alive, otherwise I offer no guarantee," Kycoo said firmly.

He knew.

He groaned in pain, as it overwhelmed him. The broken ribs, with the bleeding of his stomach were fast overcoming his pain tolerance. As he laid there he groaned, feeling everything fade. He almost imagined he could hear Liliana's voice, the cries of pain and outrage. He could imagine her calling for him to get up, to keep fighting. To win. He wanted to stay down, to be the loser, and to save her, but he could not. Not with the burning pride within him. Not when he had to destroy this abomination that had forced his hand. Raw fiery hate filled him as he attempted to push himself up.

"You persist? Perhaps there is hope yet," Kycoo said impressed.

His feet slipped in the pool of his own blood, as the audience cheered, their champion was rising. They were not going to end it here, it was going to continue. This match would not end like the others, with disappointment. No, this was how it would happen, with one devastated by the other. As Seth found his feet he stood up his body shuddering in pain he no longer felt. It was almost as if he had turned off every nerve in his body, or perhaps he was so far gone, he just didn't care anymore.

"Am I nothing more than a curiosity to you, asshole?" Seth croaked.

"Perhaps you could be more, if you'd only grow up," Kycoo spoke, his arms crossing his chest. He then pointed at Seth's gut, "Clutch your gift, take the fight to me, I know how you fight, you're so predictable."

Seth shook his head as he heard the siren's call. It offered him something far more devastating than anything else. It offered him true raw power; power the likes that the world had not seen in a long time. As he lowered his hate filled eyes upon Kycoo he gripped it, one last time. What was one final damnation in a life filled with them? As he gripped the magic he felt it overtake him, such was its strength. As he closed his eyes he shuddered, in pleasure from the wave of power that overcame him.

"All my life, I've been spit on, been the victim, and been the scapegoat. People like you lording their power over me as they try to tell me I am nothing, that I will amount to nothing, and can be only nothing. You push me to the depths of evil and back again, calling for my head the entire time. Then you have the audacity to call me the evil one?"

"Prove me wrong Dahlios, show me some of that Lavinian-"

"Shut up!" He shouted, his voice carrying through the arena. The raw hatred began flowing over him as he embraced it. He no longer sought to hold back, he would tear this man apart with his bare hands if need be. He then hunched his shoulders he spoke, his voice cold, "I'll reach into the depths of my soul to bring forth your destruction. I will shatter the rumors about me, and I will show you how right you were. If I am evil, its only because people like you made me. The cocoon of hatred and bitterness changed me to this creature you see today! I will put you out of my misery!"

Kycoo frowned as he saw the blackened energies forming. Live tendrils of electricity flowed over Seth as his hate filled eyes bore into Kycoo's own, sending shivers down the man's back. He had heard of the spell, only now vaguely remembered from the days with his father. As he began to move forward he was stopped by a glint in the man's eye, there was not just hatred in there, there was something more there.

The energy swept through his hair sending it every which way as it began to arc down his arms. The crowd was a silent hush as they watched the display of magic. There was something amiss, something they weren't grasping, and they watched silently as Seth moved towards Kycoo with a preternatural agility never seen before. Kycoo attempted another punch to send the man down, only to have the arm seized in a hand as he realized with fear gripping his heart, that Seth Dahlios had gripped Malice.

"If I die, I'll take solace in that I got you too bastard! I will erase you from this world Kycoo, and everything associated with you. When I am through with you, nothing will remain, and then I can die at peace!" Seth words roared through the arena.

[Liliana Ambria]

She screamed as she saw the punch connect, the fist drawn back covered in blood. Seth was being brutally beaten, beyond anything she had seen. She had seen Velius Demorio stop Seth cold bathed in his own guilt. He had seen Sarah brutally fight him, to hold him still long enough for the enigmatic Witchblade to bathe both of them in a fiery darkness. She had seen Minotaurs only yesterday tear him apart, leaving him almost devastated. She had heard of the countless times he had been impaled on a sword, only to come out alive, by pulling himself deeper upon it and finishing the victim.

None of those times evoked a greater fear than now. A casual punch, a blow meant to wind someone had torn a hole in the man she loved. Seth was outclassed, and as he fell to the dirt, she shivered as cold tendrils of fear sought to claim her. Her heart beat rapidly as she looked upon the scene her eyes nearly welling up with tears. She shook her head as she willed Seth to stay down. She shouted, "Stay down Seth! Stay down!"

She was leaning on the railing as Seth began to rise, as tears streamed down her face, she was never going to see Seth again. She knew this now, for as he rose, she could see him continuing to fight. He would destroy himself, rather than risk a single ounce of his already exhausted pride. As that occurred she heard a crash as Cardenas moved through the room. She froze in fear as he grabbed her roughly and spoke, "You'll have to talk to that brute, because if he doesn't, you my dear are going to die..."

With those words he gripped her by the throat and lifted her effortlessly, causing her to grip the offending appendage as he carried her back through the room to where a scared Myrhia stood. A shield lay on the ground as a rather angry Letho Ravenheart stood in the doorway, his eyes born of a rage she had seen on Seth only once. She shivered in fear as she hoped never to see eyes like that, but knew it would be too late for that sentiment.

Cardenas then spoke coldly, "I know better than to offer you your love's life, for killing her will only compound the problem and I can't be certain you'd not have me kill her just to be done with it. However, can you say the same of Dahlios' girl? She's committed no sins, no crimes other than daring to befriend a man like yourself. Can you condemn her to death? Especially when I know something you don't about her?"

Liliana's eyes closed as she fought to control her animalistic fear. Too much stress could ruin everything her and Seth had planned for in the future. She had to clam herself, as he wasn't choking her, just threatening to. As she felt the fear subside, she opened them and looked at Letho sadly. Her eyes only showed a regret that had engulfed them since they had come to Reven. She choked out her next words as she spoke, "Don't...do it Letho. Stop him, before we all are killed..."

Cardenas looked at her, a feral grin on his face as he spoke, "So you would risk everything to be free? It makes me wonder what you have up your sleeve Ambria. Perhaps Letho doesn't know? But how could he, you and Seth only suspected yourselves. Kycoo told me, if it’s any comfort to you..."

She shivered in fear at those words, they were right. They had both been right, as much as she had tried to doubt, if only because Seth's source had been less than authoritative. As she closed her eyes she prayed to the Gods that she was being lied to. As she was held there, held aloft by the fear that empowered her muscles, even as they burned in protest. It was then Cardenas finished the statement, "Could you live with the death of Seth Dahlios' lover? Or even that of his unborn child?"

[Letho]

Seconds before Letho Ravenheart stepped into Carendas’ chamber, he was certain that there was no scenario that could stop him from executing righteous vengeance upon the bloodsucker. If he killed Myrhia, he would die. If he hurt the gentle redhead again, he would die. If he tried to strike a bargain of some sort, he would die. Hell, if he dropped on his knees and begged for clemency, the best possible outcome for the vampire would be that he would die quickly. But that was his rage speaking, the crude, uncalculated wrath that only knew of one goal and one way to reach it. His intellect kicked in when Liliana was brought forth, hanging from the bastard’s arm like a string puppet. Liliana Ambria, as innocent as his own Myrhia in all of this and with a child growing in her belly. Such recognition shed a different light on the matter.

“CRAVEN BEAST!” the swordsman bawled in frustration, his fingers itchy around the hilt of his blade, his feet motionless. For the briefest of moments he was ready to make a deal with the devil, disregard the loss of innocent life and charge straight through Liliana just to get to Carendas and free that which mattered most. Of course, he would never be able to forgive himself for something like that, but that was a demon he’d learn to live with, just another one in the bestiary that kept tormenting him daily. But then his eyes located Myrhia in the lavishness of the room. Pale and frightened, she looked at him with eyes that would never forgive him for making such a sacrifice. It was hard to close the deal with the devil when an angel stared you in the eye.

He dropped the sword. The fall of the blade was almost inaudible on the burgundy carpet, a silent testament to Letho’s defeat. It made the burly man look almost shrunken, as if somebody deflated him by exorcising the rage from him. He couldn’t risk the life of Seth’s love any more then he could risk that of his own. Not because he was a knight, and not even because he was good man, but because not even his sword could bear to sever the ties of affection. Not after Myrhia had shown him the marvel of it.

“Letho, no. Don’t...” Liliana struggled to squeeze through her vocal cords, but her display of braveness fell on deaf ears. That was why she displayed more than words the next time she opened her mouth. “ORT!” Though the meaning of the word was unknown to the Marshal, he knew the effects quite well. The cleric lass used it back in Corone, when they fought a band of skeletons brought to life by a powerful lich. The banishing word was supposed to vanquish the undead, or at least wound them greatly. All it did to Carendas is made him snigger and squeeze tighter.

“A banishing spell? You jest for certain! Did you really think...” There was potential for a vile rant there, a malicious string of words meant to discourage, demean. It was, however, cut short by a blunt object connecting with the side of the vampire’s face.

“You leave her alone, you bastard!” Myrhia exclaimed, her cheeks flushed and her modest chest rising and falling in excitement. The blow of the huge candlestick took the undead lord by surprise, breaking his concentration and his hold on Liliana’s neck. It was all the incentive Letho needed to make his move. Scurrying forward, his foot slammed hard on the hilt of his fallen blade, making the adamantine sword spring to life, spinning upwards. The experienced hand of the ranger swiped it in mid-flight in one fluid motion before the man charged at the rattled vampire. His eyes were on the target, his thrust aimed to end the battle in a single move, but Carendas leapt back with the speed of a cheetah, landing on a wall and gluing himself to it like a man-shaped spider. The smug expression was erased from his face, replaced by a bruise that healed before their very eyes.

“Quick, out the door!” Letho commanded to the two girls, plucking his shield from where it was imbedded in a wall. By then Carendas made a dexterous descent, one light foot landing on a commode between a wine glass and a candlestick, the other already on the room floor. Myrhia grabbed Liliana by the shoulders as they scuttled towards the door and behind a wall made of flesh and renewed anger.

“You can’t fight him alone, Letho!” Myrhia insisted, but the swordsman barely heard the words. He was locked in his own world, focused on naught by his blade, his shield and his foe. He waited until the pair was past the doorframe before he gave his response, slamming the door behind the two. His actions elicited an ironic applause from the bloodsucker on the other side of the room.

“Oh, bravo. Letho Ravenheart, ladies and gentlemen, who never fails to flaunt his chivalry,” Carendas said, his joviality trying to make him look unconcerned. But it was a mask that was cracking by the seams, Letho knew, too obvious of a bluff not to be called. “I am sorry I have to put an end to it. You see, you are proving to be more trouble then you are worth, Marshal. There are always other heroes out there I can subdue.”

“Your reign of terror ends here,” the enraged blademaster responded, pointing the tip of his blade at the face of the vampire that by now had fully regenerated.

“Oh, I sincerely doubt it. Your blade perhaps is legendary, Ravenheart, but it is just a blade, inferior to magic. Let me demonstrate.” Letho didn’t plan to let him demonstrate. He was on the move just as Carendas raised one of his hands, but by the time he covered half the distance between himself and his adversary, the magic has been cast. The projectile was opaque, no more than a shimmering distortion in the air, but when it connected with the blade in his hand, it made it as heavy as a boulder, tearing it away from Letho’s grasp. But much to the surprise of them both, the shield suffered no such effects. Letho paused his rushing attack, acknowledged the shield that was still in his hands, and grinned.

“Dragonscale,” he said, tapping a hand on the surface of the shield. “Your hex magic is squandered on it.”

Carendas tried to keep looking blasé, tried to act as if he had foreseen this, but his aggravation was seeping out of his eyes like blood out of a wound. He was forced on a defensive once again as Letho came forward, switching the shield to his right hand and swinging it in a wide horizontal arc at the vampire. The sharp lover edge of the wing-shaped shield zinged inches from the dead skin, making Carendas take one step backwards, then another when Marshal fired a follow up with the flat surface of his makeshift weapon. Seeing an opening after Letho’s miss, the vampire moved in for the kill. Claws were conjured in as much time as it took Carendas to sidestep and launch them at Letho’s flank. But the swordsman was too strong, too fast, too high on wrath, his favorite drug. The shield moved in a backhanded motion, slapping away the arm and its deadly claws and making its owner stumble just a little bit. It left enough room and time for Letho to fire a punch with his left, slamming his fist into the ear of the vampire.

But it wasn’t enough to incapacitate Carendas. The suave undead went down, but landed on both his hands and knees before he swept the floor with his leg, bringing the muscular human down. Still on the ground, Carendas outstretched a single hand towards Letho, announcing the conjuring of another magic trick.

“Hex magic is hardly the only conjuration I know, Marshal,” the vampire said behind the splayed hand enveloped in sparks. Letho saw such a thing before, at the hands of Storm Veritas who could launch lightning from his fingers and fry people to a crisp at will. It made him roll away faster then he thought he could. The bolt of energy scorched a portion of the carpet instead. By the time the tendrils of smoke raised from it, both combatants were back on their feet. This time Carendas moved first, launching another bolt, then another, then a whole barrage of them. The dragonscale shield caught most of them, but by the time Carendas took a pause, the damn thing was so heated that Letho felt the flesh of his hand burn. But he couldn’t afford to let go. And that paid dividends.

Whether it was by the shield’s own volition or Letho own, but the static built up in the dragonscales from the numerous bolts that struck it came to life, enlightening the jagged surface before it was launched at its original owner. The craggy bolt of energy struck Carendas at the chest, sending him gyrating uncontrollably before he crashed into his own wardrobe. His lofty purplish robes were scorched just like the smoldering skin below. He was shaken, stupefied, defenseless and ready for an execution for just a fraction of a second. And then he pulled an ace out of his sleeve again.

In a fit of sheer rage, so unbecoming of a calm individual such as he, Carendas pushed himself out of the wood splinters and tattered clothes before he slammed his hand against the floor. There shouldn’t have been any particular sound in the room as his hand landed on the carpet, no clamorous echoes, but there were and in an instant the entire room was engulfed in flames. A wall of fire was raised between the battered vampire and his mortal foe, so thick that they could barely see each other over the tongues that lashed at every flammable thing in the proximity.

“I apologize for this, but I have other matters to attend to. Until we meet again, Marshal,” Carendas spoke over the crackle of the flames, retrieving enough of his equanimity to sound smarmy and even offer a falsely polite bow. Yes, Letho Ravenheart was more trouble than it was worth, but he was even more trouble when pushed against a wall and the vampire found that out the hard way. Keeping him around would be like keeping a time bomb in your pocket and having no idea when it was going to blow. And killing him turned out to be harder than imagined. For once in his long life, Carendas raised his hands from one of his slave toys. There were, after all, others to play with. With all the smoke filling the room, his exit was unseen, silent. Humiliating.

Letho’s, on the other hand, was proud and quite loud, the swordsman launching himself through both the flames and the door they started to lick. In a flash of splinters and embers and sparks, he leapt out of the room, snuffling out the fire that caught up with some of his clothes. He didn’t reprimand Liliana and Myrhia for not leaving when he told them. Instead he calmly said: “Come. Sarah is waiting for us at the stables.”

[Dissinger]

Kycoo shivered as he felt the energies coursing through his being. They slowly worked their way through him as the arcs of electricity flickered over his skin, dancing and caressing the Homunculi. He looked at Seth as he saw the dead eyes, the conviction to kill there. There was never a doubt that Seth could kill, never for one moment. However, that was not in question. Malice sought to remove through the sheer power of hate alone. As Kyco grabbed the wrist that had connected with his skin he held it firmly even as the pain began to well up, as the erasure began.

Seth gritted his teeth as the blood poured from him. His hair wildly dancing in front of his eyes as it longed to reach out to the energy he had discharged. The spell was working as he felt the hate well up in him, and fed it towards the Homunculi. As he looked balefully up at Kycoo he spat viciously, “No last words?”

“None that you would benefit from,” Kycoo replied calmly as the waves of energy began to flow over him, slowly tearing him apart. Seth felt a pang of guilt, but stowed it away. The abomination across from him had to die, or all would be lost. He would not allow him to walk away from today. Kycoo was the reason his parents were dead, the reason Sarah existed, serving only a hindrance to him. It was the reason he was left feeling like he was missing something in the grander scheme of things. It was this abomination who made Seth Dahlios into the Demon of today.

Yet that pang of guilt, that lingering doubt persisted as he focused on his hate, feeling it slip through his fingers. As hard as he tried to grasp it, it was like a hand cupping water. He could only hold so much, and the remainder was spilling through his grasp. As he focused on his hatred he saw another wave of energy, slowly pealing away at Kycoo’s very being. He would be erased if he kept it up, but would it bring back his parents?

He shuddered as the pain in his stomach crept up his spine. The doubt now whispered in his ears, despite the words of reassurance even now seeking to push him into his hate. As he groaned he dropped to a knee, Kycoo still looking down at him as he spoke, “I’m not your enemy Seth Dahlios. If I were, you would have died long ago.”

He groaned as he realized the truth. He couldn’t maintain the spell. He didn’t have enough hate. As hard as he tried, he could not hate Kycoo as much as he wished. He could not condemn a man to being erased from the universe. No, he didn’t have it in him anymore, and this revelation saw Kycoo freed from the spell’s grip. As the homunculi stagger backwards releasing Seth’s grip he began to bleed from the areas Seth had torn his flesh asunder with the spell. Seth meanwhile gripped his stomach again as he closed his eyes, his breathing shallow.

Boy!

The changeling amulet, the bracelet about his wrist was now calling. It was clamoring for his attention, he was fairly certain it had for minutes now. As he groaned he thought softly, Need bandages, stop the bleeding.

You need me boy! Let me fight him, I’ll sustain you, just hold on! Karel’s voice filled his head with a desperation Seth was unfamiliar with. He could sense the urgency of the moment, he was dying. He truly was feeling Death’s embrace. In the Citadel he thought he had known death, that he was stronger for it, but here was different. He had always imagined that he would be far more composed, yet he was scared, the fear of dying permanently pervading him.

As he looked up into Kycoo’s eyes however, he felt a disturbing calm wash over him. As they met eyes, he finally understood what Darith had meant all those years ago when Seth had begun his training. It was an old saying, one that had surfaced with the recent thoughts of death and destruction. It had been said casually, but he had always thought it was merely an epitaph, and not a true fact. Now, he understood, though the knowledge was too little too late.

They say every thief knows the face of the one who will kill him. It is when the thief is calmest that you know he will die…

“No,” Seth muttered as he pushed off his knees to his feet. The sounds of bone and stone upon metal could be heard as Seth pulled Spite and malice from their holsters again. His eyes never left Kycoo’s, as Seth finally embraced his destiny.

“Last words?” Kycoo said as he saw the look in Seth’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Seth spoke as he rushed forward.

Kycoo moved to counter as the daggers slashed high, going for his exposed throat. As Seth committed his all to the fight he let out a final cry of anguish, years of bitterness and hatred unleashed in an instant as he sought to end the conflict once and for all. Kycoo seeing his opening attacks, the punch this time hitting his chest. As he fractured Seth’s sternum Seth came to a jarring halt once again on the homunculi’s hand. Their eyes locked as Kycoo felt the rhythm of Seth’s heart, a steady tattoo against his hand, as he clenched it firmly. Seth immediately shuddered in response before he spoke softly.

Kycoo heard the words and nodded as he tore the organ from its hiding place. Seth died instantly, his body hitting the ground. Kycoo looked down at the heart as he spoke, his voice soft, “As I suspected, not a single patch of black. You simply cared too much…”

The crowd remained still in awe at the gruesome sight, never before had such a gruesome sight been placed before them, for their entertainment. Slowly they stood to see Kycoo holding the human heart in his hand, before he tossed it upon the chest of the deceased thief. Soon, clapping began slowly building up, until it was a roar, that threatened to deafen any who stood in the arena. Kycoo looked down at the body as he spoke softly, “I’ll hold you to that Dahlios, to the end.”

Seth Dahlios, was dead.

[Lavinian Pride]

Sarah ran down the corridors pushing through patrols. A few had tried to chase her, only to meet mysterious ends as she felt a jerk against her spine. Every time she heard the cries it jerked, but never long enough to stop her. She merely kept going, knowing that it was for the best she didn't turn back. Whatever was chasing her, had been removing all pursuers and she hoped never to find out if it was because it was helping, or they simply got in the way.

Finally she slid to a halt in the stables and looked about. It was nearing the dawn and she'd need a wagon capable of carrying them through the lands of Revan without her getting incinerated in the process. As she moved about the area she noticed something that sent a cold shiver down her spine. Piles of ash littered the floor and worse, before her was a grisly sight. A figure had impaled another vampire upon it’s long sword, causing the figure to scream as it ignited and was reduced to ash. She placed hands on the girls as she eyed the figure carefully moving silently to the side.

Almost immediately the figure turned its head sharply to look in her direction. She froze her brown eyes meeting steely grey as she saw the face of her would be savior. A woman's eyes cold and dead resided there. A Hex Magi she silently reminded herself as she tensed, preparing for battle. Her crimson hair cascaded past the ends of her hood, as her porcelain skin showed a perfect beauty that might have gotten Sarah’s attention, had she not just seen her kill a vampire effortlessly. The rest of her figure was hidden beneath the robes, making her stand on edge. The woman seemed curious of Sarah's presence as she tilted her slightly, as if spying something she had not perceived before. Soon her figure began to change, her eyes never losing contact with Sarah's defiant gaze.

The figure grew in size, bulking out slightly as it took on a more masculine pose. Her eyes never changed as she did this taking on the form of the newly crowned Demon smiled, the voice was so similar, had she not seen the change she might never have known it wasn't him, "So, you're the back up plan..."

Sarah slowly stood up to her full height, not even breaching even with this look alike of her former other half. Her hand moved slightly to rest on a thorn as she spoke her tone neutral, "Is it good form to taunt your opponent's like that?"

"We're both scarecrows, of different sorts, but one in the same," The faux Seth challenged back. He continued, "I merely take your native form."

"I haven't had that form in over a year, now you're toying with me. So, when can I expect to be another pile of ash on the floor?"

The fake Seth laughed as he sheathed the long sword. The creature before her then turned towards a carriage as it looked the form over before it spoke, "This is the carriage of Karla Reyes. Put a high price on her privacy, and so it can be shut off from the light of the outside easily, allowing one such as yourself passage during the daylight."

"Am I to take it you aren't going to interfere with my escape?" Sarah asked.

"I owed this man a favor," Seth said, he then turned to Sarah as he spoke again, "His body will remain here. I should expect you to try and get it back, but I would advise against it."

"Why is that?" Sarah asked as she tightened her grip on the thorn.

"Because he never negotiated for your safety. I only let you live, because it would be arduous for me to take her myself. I figure with your merry band, I can fulfill my promise. Once that’s done, I have a few things to do," At this point Sarah let her hand slip from the Thorn. She wasn't going to kill anyone today, not the fake Seth at the least.

"Nice to know some things never change," Sarah retorted. The other Seth chuckled before he waved and moved, his figure shifting again. Moving into a smaller form it soon grew wings and flew off, making Sarah uneasy with its passing. She was more than certain a few power plays had been pulled here, and Sarah didn't like it. However, she was bound by her own promise to Seth, and so she moved to the horses quickly gathering two of them. Hitching them to the carriage she shook her head as she muttered, "Crazy psycho bitch or not, I gotta get Liliana out of here."

[Liliana Ambria]

Letho lead the way as they made it through the tunnels. At first Liliana thought they were going after Seth, but then she heard the word stables, and realized the truth. Seth had wanted her to get back to Lavinya at any cost. In return for this, he was going to do something drastic. She wasn't sure what but she held onto the sliver of soul that he still had left. It was hard, with the cold feeling that she got from all the vampires about her, it was like trying to find the lit candle amidst a hurricane. As she held onto it she felt the flame flicker as something occurred.

They moved through the hallways finally getting into the stables, where Sarah was hitching up the horses to a carriage. The other horses were whinnying as they prepared for the nights jaunt to safety. Sarah quickly finished hitching as she looked up at them. When she spoke her words were harsh, "Kid's already inside, she's taking a nap until we get on the road, then I'll switch with her. She knows roughly where Lavinya is, and with me and her driving it shouldn't take long to find the road. You three get in the carriage; we're going to have to leave quickly if we're to make enough time to get ahead of the vampires."

Liliana hesitated as Sarah grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the carriage, before it happened. The flame she had been holding onto so tightly exploded into the blazing inferno it once had been, and was snuffed out, exhausting its fuel. Liliana screamed in pain as she fell to her knees unable to comprehend how it was at all possible. She knew what had happened, but it was impossible, these things just didn't happen! Seth was too strong, he was too stubborn, he couldn't be...dead.

She pulled away from Sarah as she tried to reach the exit, when Sarah's steel like grip refused to relent she turned, and without a second thought, extended the hand Sarah had and said forcefully, "Ort!"

Sarah immediately released her grip as she was shoved back against the carriage, hissing in pain as the word of banishing sought to remove her from the material plane all together. As Liliana turned to go, she heard other footsteps rush towards the Priestess before she heard Sarah's words bitterly spit forth, "Let the bitch go. If she wants to sacrifice everything Seth did for her, let her be as big a fool as he is..."

The words stopped her as she felt them hit the one spot she knew Sarah could hit, her own pride. It had been repressed, so deep down inside her, but it was there, and Sarah had struck true, aiming right at that exposed weak spot. As she turned to look at Sarah the look of anger on her face she pointed at the carriage and said, "Stow it, I'm not him, your little temper tantrums don't work on me."

It was then Letho spoke up, "What of Seth? We can't just leave him here..."

Sarah looked at the Marshal as she spoke her voice strained, "I'm not about to let you go in there, we have to leave, this is our only shot at this. Anyone who goes after him is as good as dead."

"But Seth-" Letho began before he was once again cut off.

"Seth is not your concern your concern is the little scared red head in the damn carriage," Sarah said. As Letho moved to ignore her she sighed before she grabbed a club used for mixing oats and blood for the undead mares before she whacked him across the head laying him out. When she dropped the club she looked up at Myrrhia, "I'm sorry; he's a bit stubborn sometimes." She then dragged his body into the carriage as she looked at Liliana. She was more than certain any hope that one day she could replace Seth was erased when she stood up against her, but she wasn't sure that was a bad thing.

Closing the carriage door she quickly got up into the carriage seats as she quickly snapped the reigns and the horses took off. Moving them off at a gallop she saw the sky turning a purple hue as the sun began to rise, slowly, she'd have maybe half an hour of running before the sun would be up, if they could last that long, they would be safe.

~*~

Cardenas watched as the carriage sped off. He could see the entire investment he had made into those bothersome pests was to go unreturned, but was grateful to cut his losses there. As the guards looked to him for answers he spoke, "Dispose of Dahlios' body in Otaria, somewhere where it can be hidden and not disturbed. Don't pursue the carriage; I don't want to lose any more guards to this stupidity."

"As you wish my lord. And of Lord Mordechai's presence?"

"Tell my father I will see him when he gets here, immediately, as we always do."

[Letho]

Letho woke up with alarm bells ringing in his head as if he was a fireman and there was the world’s biggest fire burning somewhere. He remembered the stables, the safety they were supposed to represent and how freedom smelled like horse manure and stale hay. He also remembered that Seth wasn’t there to smell it and that Liliana was the only one as seriously concerned about that as he was. And he also remembered that, regardless of all the misdeeds of the Lavinian Demon, it seemed unfair that he wasn’t there to share their freedom. And somewhere around that recollection the things went very black and very painful for the Marshal. Someone decked him, crept up from behind and knocked him out cold. And if that was the case, they weren’t safe at all. Chances were that they were all back in the dungeons and that Carendas is grinning that suave grin that Letho failed to erase once and for all.

He started immediately after his consciousness returned, his hand instinctively searching for the grip of the sword before he even opened up his eyes. His attempt to get up, however, was met with another hit in the head as he caught the roof of the carriage with the top of his head. When he sat back on the cushioned bench and vision returned to him properly, he could see Myrhia leaning over him, telling him to calm down.

“It’s all right, Letho. We’re safe,” her mousy voice assured him. Her hands helped the process, wrapping themselves over one of his own and offering some of their comforting softness and warmth. The smile on her pale face, modest and indulgent, was never more beautiful to him, and yet never looked more sad. “Sarah... She, uhm, she hit you. She said we didn’t have time for going back.”

Letho’s eyes went to the Dahlios vampire that sat across from him. Even with the shades drawn and Sarah squeezing into the shadows as deep as possible, he managed to see her face quite clearly, and the gloom that crept over it. Still, her somber disposition was nothing compared to Liliana who sat next to her. Seth’s beloved looked barely alive, as if somebody leeched all the life out of her to the point that all that was left in her was the instinctive will to survive, to breathe and do little else. Wan and almost lifeless, the brunette stared at the miniscule crack in the shades, but her eyes saw little of the scenery.

“Seth?” Letho asked, scratching the growing bulge somewhere in his hair. “What happened to him?”

Liliana whipped him with her eyes at the mention of the Lavinian’s name, but offered no response other than this mixture of anger and surrender. Next to her, Sarah Dahlios just shook her head. And from those two gestures and the gravity behind them, Letho could read the answer. Seth Dahlios wasn’t just left behind to serve as the attraction at the arena. Seth Dahlios didn’t have his own plan that would allow him to rendezvous with the rest of the group somewhere in the next town. Seth Dahlios was dead.

“He bought us time to escape,” Sarah stated. This time it was Letho that was shaking his head, even allowing an ironic smirk on his bearded face.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” the Marshal muttered as he leaned back in his seat. “He stole my role.”

Liliana’s eyes were still on him, piercing and relentless, the icy eyes of someone standing on the edge of a cliff. She didn’t disagree with his words, though. She looked like she wouldn’t mind if the roles were different and that it was Seth commenting about Letho’s death instead. In fact, she looked like she’d be willing to trade anything for such a scenario. Compared to that chill, the emerald warmth in Myrhia’s was a blatant contrast. The little redhead was almost ashamed of this, afraid to make eye contact with the person across from her. She was sad for Liliana and Seth, so sad in fact that the joy she felt for Letho and she surviving this ordeal made her feel guilty. Conflicted between these two emotions, she merely pressed tighter against Letho’s side and sniffled silently, her own way of mourning the loss of Seth’s life. Letho’s hand, large and genteel and soothing, rubbed her shoulder as he embraced her.

“That man...” he started, even though nobody present seemed interested in soliloquies, his eyes on the mahogany head that rested on his shoulder. “He had a heart of a lion. And it turns out he was more of a knight than most people I know. We had our differences, but not because we were so dissimilar. No, now that I look back at it all, I don’t think we differed so much. Just took different turns on the same road. If fate had dealt us different cards, perhaps we wouldn’t have been enemies most of the time. Perhaps we would’ve been comrades.”

The Marshal paused and faced the terror in Liliana’s eyes. He could sustain it; he dealt with such a severe loss before. He knew that this little eulogy meant nothing to the mourning girl right now, but he had to say it. If for nobody else to her, then for himself, to hear the words he defied so long.

“Perhaps we would’ve been friends.”


((SPOILS:
The Dragonscale Tower Shield – this shield is made of dragonscale and is shaped roughly like an outstretched wing of a dragon. The bottom edges of the shield are sharpened so they could be used as a weapon in dire circumstances. The shield possesses the ability to soak magic and reflect a percentage of it back at the caster. Right now it can reflect 50% of the magic that strikes it, while the other 50% dissipates. Also, the shield is practically impervious to being enchanted (both positively and negatively).))

[Lavinian Pride]

It had been a week after the incident. The thieves were still getting used to the sight of Sarah wandering the hallways, and she had taken up residence in the sparse quarter's Seth had once occupied. It was merely common courtesy, but everyone knew it was not for any reason other than the obvious, Sarah had survived Seth, and therefore it made sense to give his things over to her. The tunnels were sparsely light with torches flickering every now and again as they sought to envelope the world about them. Sarah shivered slightly as she passed each one, a residual fear she was beginning to overcome of the inferno they represented to her.

She wandered into the mess hall where tables had been spaced out, allowing the thieves to enjoy the culinary genius, or lack there of, of the guild's cooks. Torches again lit the room, and she could feel eyes following her. They didn't know how to react to her, after all she had been the outcast, and Seth was the welcome one. They had never had to get used to a female version of their friend, let alone ponder the ramifications of such a thing. Still she bore the stares and the eyes with indifference, not bothering to even look at them as she went about her business.

The man behind the tables saw her walking up before he pulled out a small bottle and tossed it to her. Catching it she looked it open before she pulled the stopper, smelling the rich scent of blood in the small bottle before she resealed it. She then nodded thanks to the cook before she grabbed a glass and sat down at a table, in the center of the room. To say that she was now pushing the issue was putting it lightly; still she never once spoke as she poured herself a glass of the animal blood that the chef had managed to acquire.

"Mind if I sit?" The voice was soft, robust, sure. She recognized the voice, though her interaction with its owner was limited to maybe one or two conversations. She gestured to the seat across from her as she saw a man sit down. His black hair had traces of grey, and his blue eyes seemed to pierce into Sarah's brown ones, looking for a trace of a man he had been forced to give up as dead. He wore the traditional leather pants and shirt that had often given him the joke of being a Dahlios, despite his rather different lineage. While not childhood friends, Garret Brown had become a new friend, when Seth had lost Thomas to the Guard Post.

Sarah idly traced her finger along the rim of the glass as she leaned forward tiredly. Her eyes never rising from the cup as she spoke softly, "He would have wanted you to know, he never blamed you for Sarah's death."

"Perhaps for the best they're both dead, perhaps in the afterlife they can find the peace they lost in life," He replied tiredly.

Sarah nodded as she said, "I can't be him Garret, I don't know what you want from me, but know I can't be him. Not in the way you may need me."

"I never asked you to be," Was his reply. She raised her eyes once more to meet his gaze while she quirked an eyebrow. A soft smile crossed his face as he spoke, "I know why you picked your name, and I know why you cannot be him. You need time to become who you are to be. It would be selfish of me to demand you be Seth Dahlios again."

"You always were selfish, Rachel manage to beat it out of you?" Sarah replied with a soft chuckle. She then sipped the drink as she shivered, feeling the pleasure of feeding race up and down her spine. She suppressed the moan as she set the cup down, "Still, I may leave soon, there are those that would want him, and I can't afford that."

Garret stopped as he reached out and took her hand. When he spoke his voice was tired, "Not yet Sarah, don't run yet. Stay at least for the memorial, as one of the few survivors, you have to stay. After that…run, get away, find out who you are, but until then, let us honor a man, who would thoroughly berate us for mourning his death."

Sarah giggled softly, the feminine act coming naturally as she nodded, "For you at least. But dye your hair Garret; you're starting to look like an old man."

"I am an old man Sarah; perhaps you just have a lack of perspective. Still thank you," Garret said softly before he leaned forward and pecked Sarah on the lips. Sarah froze at the open gesture, a clear sign of him accepting her as a sister. It was not unlike the handshakes he would give Seth. It confused her, the act, was so clearly in relation to her gender. She had never been treated as a woman by any of the fellow thieves. She had been treated as one of the guys, and for someone she knew so well to do such a thing confused her.

By the time she had come out of her thoughts Garret was gone, and she was the center of a lot of stares. She merely continued drinking as she closed her eyes, thankful to have a friend so thoughtful. He had given her the greatest gift he ever could have, herself.

To the vampire, it meant all the world.

Spoils

Ebony and Ivory - Seth's daggers Ebony and Ivory are to be transferred to Sarah Dahlios. While she has Seth's soul, she is unable to wield them without the daggers attacking her as if she was an enemy, unless she avoids flesh contact with the daggers.

Blood Stores - Sarah has managed to create a store of blood, through repeated feedings. Now when she activates abilities like Vampiric Rush, she will only expend one of her two blood pool. Abilities activated in this manner drain her body still however and as such cannot be reactivated in rapid succession. Instead, a cool down period that varies with each ability will be required, lest she over do it, and succumb to the infernal hunger.

In the carriage Sarah finds a small fortune in gold, 2,271 gold to be exact. This gold’s appearance is unexplainable, but Sarah took it anyways, to add to her coffers.

[Liliana Ambria]

Liliana sat in her room, her knees pulled up to her chest as she hugged them tightly. Her eyes had a red ring about them as she stared blankly across the room, unseeing as she reached otu desperately for any sign of Seth. She felt wisps of him now and again, though she could never get a bearing, never find a true heading for the feeling. She clung to those moments, before his soul would fade again, and he would disappear. It was at those moments the pain in her heart would swell, and once again she was reduced to the wreck she had become.

Food was brought intermittently, but never was she talked to. Sarah had tried once, and Liliana had ignored her, anything the vampiress had tried, went unnoticed. FInally she had given up, leaving Liliana in the darkness. Here she felt at peace at least, no light to mar the pitch blackness, allowing her time to commune with her god. Oh, how she had talked with him.

She had yelled at him.

Blamed him.

Renounced him.

Pleaded him.

Bargained with him.

The list went on as she tried to get Seth back, to feel his familiar presence. To feel his arms about her body. Still she remained silent as she mourned the death of Seth Dahlios, a man who she had genuinely believed was too stubborn to die. She had denied it vehemently, claiming that the wisps were him recovering, trying to return to her. She had said alot of things, and in the end, she was left with one fact, had Seth indeed been alive, he surely woudl have broken out by now, there was no doubt of that. He would have returned, and he would have started his new life with her. He would atone for his sins and they would disappear.

A soft sniffle echoed through the darkness as she felt the tears well up in her eyes again. She had thought herself out of them, but Seth's death still affected her so much. THe past week had been a haze to her, as she vaguely remembered the events that followed it. Sarah leading them out to Lavinya, Letho and Myrhia departing back to COrone, the looks of guilt evident on their faces. Guilt that Letho himself had not taken Seth's place, and had sacrificed the man she loved for another chance at life.

She had wanted to yell at the marshall, but she couldn't hold him accountable, not with what Sarah had done. Sarah hersef was free of scorn, for she had done it to save all their lives. Any trek across the wilderness of Revan woudl have been lethal were it not for Letho, and Sarah, both able to watch over them while the other slept. This much she had managed to finally accept, but there was one man, who she refused to let be free of the blame. One man who had sought them out, who had brought them here despite the misgivings of them both.

She rose from her bed as for the first time in a long time she dressed, there was a matter to settle...


~*~

She moved through the hallways effortlessly, the thieves jumping out of the way of the priestess. Her eyes while red rimmed held a fury in them as they flashed Jade now and again. A few of the thieves could have sworn that at times, her hair seemed a dark crimson at the preipheral of their vision. However, any who looked upon her were greeted with the same brown hair they had come to associate with Liliana Ambria.

Her dress was in the linen pants and shirt she had wandered about their guildhall previously in. A sword was sheathed at her side as she moved, causing a few of them pause. No one wanted tos top her, for that terrible look in her eyes, but as she marched, they realized the destination, as she shoved open the door to the Guildmaster's office. The door shut with a resounding slam, echoing through the halls as she stood inside the office of Darith Shagath, Seth Dahlios' mentor, and master.

The room was filled with various accoutrements, nickknacks and shelves. Three bookshelves alone sat behind the desk of the Guildmaster, filled with old tomes. Another set of shelves held various items, some weapons, other what appeared to be wands, a few more stones. Probably various magical items the guild master had come to possess. Still as her eyes swept over the room she focused on the man, sitting at the desk before her.

He had grey hair, more of an array of salt and pepper in coloration as it had not yet given up color. His clothing was practical, yet obviously ignored, as it was wrinkled and rumpled, from periods of long wear. As she moved forward he looked up, and she saw those hard grey eyes. So similar to Seth's yet seeming to hide far more power. Still, where as she had last time been intimidated witht eh man, now, those eyes only served to remind her of her lost love. He seemed to notice something in her eyes as he sat back allowing her approach unimpeded.

"We need to talk," Was all she said as she glared balefully at the guildmaster.

"Perhaps when you're calmed down a bit more and can talk in a more civili-" His response, was cut off when she quickly moved her hands, picking up every piece of paper that littered the desk between them before she moved over to a torch and ignited the stack. She then dropped it on the cold stone floor as she looked over at Darith, her expression on of feigned curiosity.

"Well now, it seems like you have plenty of time to talk," Her tone was rather cold, holding no room for arguement.

"Do you realize what was in those stacks?" He replied casually.

"Nothing compared to Seth's life, I assure you," ice seemed to cling to each word as she looked defiantly at Darith.

"That was not-"

"Don't even start," She snapped, "We wouldn't have been in Otaria save for your insistence we come back. What was so important that you had to kill my love? What was so gods be damned important that you had to rip the sole source of happiness I had in this world anymore away?"

"Your unborn child," Darith replied pointing at her stomach. Liliana scowled as she seemed to invite him to continue, "I assure you, had you not returned, you'd all three be dead. I was trying to save you when you were ambushed."

"And what of your vaunted protection? Am I to think everytime I rely on you, I may as well throw myself on my blade?" Liliana challenged.

"I lost many good men that day, and the fact that we Lost Seth, hurts me more than you know. He was like a son to me-"

"Which is conveniant considering the fact you ostracized him from his father. You knew Karel wanted him to have nothing to do with this Guild, I'm beginning to think he was onto something. I'm heading for Berevar, to stay with my brother. Don't pursue me, don't follow me, don't protect me. If I catch any thief spying on me, the offender's head will be mailed back, and the blood is on your hands."

"Such violence from a priestess-"

"Don't sass me you bastard! You did this to me, you forced me into this position. If it weren't for Sarah I might have died there too and been happy! At least I'd have my love forever, rather than for a a few mere months!" She moved over and slapped her hands down on the desk as the papers continued to crackle behind her, underlining the severity of the situation.

"I did all I could Liliana, perhaps if Seth had-"

The hand connected with his Jaw as soon as her lover's name was spoken. Darith was sent out of his chair to the floor with the force of the blow as he was left on the floor clutching his jaw. He then shook his head as he spoke, "FIne, you wish to be alone, have your wish. May the gods curse you for your ignorance."

"Funny that, I think the gods agree with me, more than a two bit thief who can't protect his adoptive son," Liliana said as she turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Spoils

A small copper coin sharpened at one end. One of the only keepsakes she has of Seth's she guards it jealously.

[Dissinger]

"Where is it?"

Cardenas was on the floor, bleeding from numerous cuts and wounds. As he groaned in agony he felt a boot kick him harshly in the ribs. He immediately curled as he hugged his ribs as he said painfully, "I'm sorry Father, I didn't mean to-"

"Where is the corpse?" The man roared again as another boot connected with his chest. Cardenas whimpered as he remained still on the ground. Hoping that by feigning more pain than he was truly in, he could be spared the torture he was being put through. As he lay on the ground he silently prayed to Sintyre himself that he would survive this horrible pain that even now pervaded him.

The older man wore thick black robes, which befitted a man of his stature. His beard was long, coming even with the belt about his waist cincturing in his robes to a more manageable fold. His face was one of pure hatred as the dead grey eyes focused harshly on the downed mewling form of the vampire before him, once vaunted as one of the mightiest Vampire Lords of Reven. His gaze was uncaring as he turned next to the woman in the room, her crimson hair and stone grey eyes widening as he reached out with a hand.

His hand clenched into a fist as she immediately gasped for air clutching at her throat. Dropping to her knees she felt the edges of her vision blackening as she struggled to intake air. The demented sorcerer looked upon her frightened face before he finally released it. He then spoke, "Perhaps you can answer in your brother's stead, where is my corpse?"

She coughed profusely as a slender hand gripped her throat, trying to massage it back into functionality. She couldn't afford to keep her Father waiting long lest he grow impatient and kill her again. As she looked upon him she croaked, "Kycoo was here, he may have had something to do with the disposal of the body."

"The Failure was here? He is free?" The man snapped.

"Yes Father, apparently Seth Dahlios freed him," She managed as she continued to massage her throat.

She needn't have wasted her time, as she felt her windpipe constrict again.

"He what?" The voice was soft but held a deadly anger within it as he looked upon the two Traitor Generals before him. Failures, the both of them, at least Cesarino could be counted on for working on the Army. As he walked about the area he looked out into the arena. His anger was apparent as he clenched the stone railing overlooking the gladiatorial pit. The stone cracked before he spoke, his voice terse, "Seeing as how you two failed me, I will give you a chance to redeem yourself. I am after all a forgiving father. Do not test my patience this time children, you will not be resurrected should you fail to find the corpse."

"Yes father, yes Mordechai," They said in unison as they looked at each other fearfully.

Spoils

Malice - The last spell Seth Dahlios has taken, Malice is a spell that hearkens to the blackest magic in the universe. Upon speaking the words "I will put you out of my misery" an orb of pure blackness will form in Seth Dahlios' hand. Should that hand, or the orb make contact with the victim, the spell will begin, feeding off the very hatred and malice of the caster. If the caster can fuel the spell enough, the spell will slowly and painfully begin to erase them from the space/time continuum. Upon a full post of being erased, if the caster can maintain a grip on the anger and malice in their heart, the spell completes, erasing the victim from the history books, along with the name and memories of them from the minds of everyone who would have known them, save the caster.

Usable once a thread. Can only erase characters with permission obviously.

All of Seth Dahlios' gold is lost. All of Seth Dahlios' Items are lost.

[Witchblade]

Story

Continuity: - 6 The storyline was very interesting and although I enjoyed it, it had quite a few lose ends or things that just detracted from it in general. For starters, there was a brief discussion about what exactly happened in Revan or Reven, because it was spelt both ways throughout the story. However, the explanation kind of confused me and still to this day at the end of the story I’m not entirely sure how the place got the way it was and what exactly it had to do with Lavinya. Another part was the whole thing with Luc Kraus, Letho and Myrhia. I know that Cardenas wanted to have strong, capable fighters at his disposal, but Letho is like a heavily armoured tank and would be more of a liability than anything else. It just seemed like a very big gamble for someone in his position to take.

Luc’s presence in the story was short and honestly pointless. His posts were short and added very little to what was going on around the other characters. He was basically backdrop to the larger and more interesting storyline unfolding around him that he wasn’t taking part in, even though conversation between him and Seth would have been extremely interesting in the cell scenes. The battle was an enjoyable read, but even that did not do very much to further character development or the storyline. There were loose ends with NPC’s Matt threw in there that seemed to have no point or meaning to what was going on.

There were some unmentioned things throughout the story too, especially the history between Letho and Seth, but they didn’t necessarily detract from the storyline. They just made the reader more interested in the two of them. Sarah needed to be explained a little more considering the tension between her and Seth and by the way, I knew Liliana was pregnant the first time she went to touch her stomach in a moment of imminent danger, instinctive need to protect.

Setting: - 6.5 Setting was good, it wasn’t great, but it was good. I had an easy time picturing the cells and that immediate area that everyone was being held in; however the arena itself was a lot of blank space in my head. I know it was described in detail, but a lot of the time after that, the arena just disappeared during the fights. Duro did a good job of interacting with it by throwing enemies and weapons into the stands, even having his character jump around them himself. Matt and Pat, you two had a bit of a harder time using the setting to your advantage. Pat, your opening post had practically no setting in it and not until halfway through did the reader become aware of the fact that they were being attacked by vampires. The opening post is meant to draw the reader in; you have to make it far more interesting than that. And another thing, all of the fights took place at night, but no one seemed to have any kind of trouble battling at night, even with the help of possible torches. I had to keep reminding myself it was night time instead of the story doing it for me.

Pacing: - 8 I really have to say that the pacing throughout the story...was great. A lot of the time with these bigger threads you look for an area it could have been broken up and divided into two threads, but it would have detracted from the story and flow to do that here. There was a lot of tension and lead up to the moment where Seth finally met his end. The aftermath of the fights were neither calm nor relaxing for character or reader, but nor were they so tense that there was no break for the reader. It was a big lead up to the end moment though, and though I found it well written, it left me wanting more. There was just something lacking in the moment and it wasn’t even the whispered words the reader shall for now not know. Perhaps more from Seth is what I wanted, more of the feelings rushing through him, just more. However, that being said it was still a good scene and I did enjoy it immensely. Like I told you before: it’s interesting.

Character

Dialogue: - 7.5 Some of the dialogue, particularly the explanation of Revan was confusing, and Cardenas at times just came off across as too much of your typical baddy. Towards the middle and end of the thread though, that did begin to change and his dialogue became much better, as well as his persona, making him a far more interesting character. The only time I had a real problem with dialogue was when Sarah ‘seduced’ one of the guards. He came off as so stupid and flat that I just couldn’t believe it since all the other NPC’s were quite well done, except for Luc’s NPC’s which came off bland and just emotionless. Not to mention she didn’t gag him, so why didn’t he start yelling after she chained him? Dialogue between the characters themselves was fine, it wasn’t exactly great and some of things that Letho said were a little cliché. The stunt in the arena on his first fight, was very...Gladiator of you, Duro and telling Cardenas that his ‘reign of terror ends here’ was a bit much, even for Mr. Knight-in-not-so-shiny-armour.

Action: - 7.5 Oh, actions. I know Luc isn’t exactly the hero-type character, but when he just left the arena after his battle with Seth and didn’t even think once—let alone twice—about taking Letho and Myrhia with him to safety, I just thought it was odd. Sure, he hates Seth, but what does he have against Letho and the man is clearly being held against his will, or is Luc just the kind of character that cares that little? Letho’s actions in the arena with the Minotaur also made me pause. I fully expected him to just kill that Minotaur chief right there and then and I found Seth’s argument against it far from convincing for someone like the marshal. It was a huge risk for Seth to take and one I was surprised he did, but in a pleasant kind of way.

I could really get into every small and little thing that I noticed throughout the story, but I do not see the need to. For the most part, all the actions taken by the characters and the NPC’s seemed true to their personalities and who I—as the reader—thought they were. I’m not entirely sure what Reyes was doing turning into Seth at the end and killing a bunch of guards. That entire scene with her and Sarah was a little strange. By the way, how do you remove your jacket and drape it over your girlfriend’s shoulders if you hands are cuffed? ;)

Persona: - 8 I have always liked Seth as a character, when he’s all cocky and confident and ready to take on the world with his sarcastic remarks and crazy antics. But when he’s all emo and guilty, I feel an overwhelming need to either beat the crap out of him, or cuddle him. It’s very odd. I wish I got to see more of that cocky demeanour in this thread; however he really was a defeated and broken man here. I thought that all of the characters were portrayed rather well, only Luc came across rather dull to my eyes. Perhaps if he was given a better reason to be in the thread his character would have come across better.

Letho as always is a very dominating character, but it was interesting to see his reactions when he was taken out of his comfort zone and placed in a situation where he was nothing more than a puppet. Sarah most definitely has evolved and become a far more interesting character than the last time I judged anything with her in it. She’s not just a piece of Seth, she is her own person now and I think the NPC Kid will most certainly help with this. Liliana and Myrhia were more like background characters in this thread, or at least that was what it felt like. They were there, had good personality and added to the story, but they definitely weren’t main characters. Of course, this does nothing to subtract from persona since there have to be side characters to push the main ones forward.

Writing Style

Mechanics: - 6 Pat, I really think that Mechanics is at times your worst area in writing. Missing words, spelling mistakes, run on sentences, the over use of commas—you must really like those commas—and even incorrect tenses. You also have a problem with writing sentences that just make no sense. I’ll sit here and read them over and over again, but no matter what I can’t figure out what you’re trying to say with it. It really detracts from the story and I’m surprised that Duro wasn’t helping you along with this or even pointing out the mistakes in your writing. However, Duro was not without his mistakes with the occasional missing word or even the wrong word used in the wrong place.

Technique: - 7 There was a good use of writing technique, mostly by Duro however Pat you definitely tried. I’d say more so towards the end of the thread. It was interesting, Duro’s writing pretty much stayed the same throughout the two years it took to write this thread, however yours Pat was a slow climb up a very steep hill to get better, and I could see that.

Clarity: - 6.5 A lot of the mistakes in Mechanics, especially Pat’s mentioned sentence problem, detracted from the clarity of the story. But even on top of that, I still don’t know the full story behind Revan and that’s a huge piece of this thread to be missing. Other than that, things were clear for the reader.

Wild Card: - 7 This was a good story, one that I really enjoyed reading and despite the length—yeah a 90 post quest with Letho in it isn’t exactly short—I never once got bored of it. It did have some issues though that kept it from being a truly great thread.

Total: 70

Rewards:

Letho receives 6,000 experience and 2,000 GP!
Dissinger receives 5,700 experience and 2,800 GP!
Lavinian Pride receives 2,600 experience and 2,700 GP!
Liliana Ambria receives 2,400 experience and 2,700 GP!
Cyrus the virus receives 3,000 experience and 800 GP!

All spoils are approved!

Letho’s Dragonscale Tower Shield has a tendency to overheat when exposed to too much magic though. When it has reached this critical phase, if magic is still continuously introduced to the shield, it will eventually crack.

[Witchblade]

EXP and GP added!

Letho reaches level 12!
Sarah reaches level 4!