A New Remedy

[Seether]

It had been close to a week since he had last seen the outside world. Close to a week without real food, real water, real wind, real anything for that matter. Close to a week, and Reann could really give a damn about it all. He was in heaven, and heaven was what he was content with, for the time being anyway.

It was a calm night, if this place could be said to have a night, and there was not a sound as he stared out across the endless plains of long wavy grass. A low river stone wall stood to his left, a reminder to him that this place was not a wild place, a distant place, a serene place. His ears twitched a top his head, there was a sound, a soft rustling besides that of the grass around him, off to the west. His ears twitched again when it came to his ears for a second time and his mouth curled into a half smile. Someone besides the wind was here with him, stalking much the same as he. Were they stalking the same prey as he? He doubted it, no one could stalk the prey he was stalking, for he wasn't sure that his prey even existed.

You will find your questions answers in the setting of the sun.

His eyes narrowed as he stared into the distance. He still didn't know what to make of those words that haunted his mind day and night. His body, his sight, his hearing, his sense of touch, smell, everything, was because of those words and a promise he still didn't know how to keep. It had seemed so long ago that he had made that promise, so long, and yet, it still seemed like it had only happened yesterday. For all he was aware, it just might have. The world seemed to move in a slow motion blur after that day.

God damn you, what the hell does it all mean!

He clenched his fists in frustration and was on the verge of crying out in rage, but the rustles prevented him from such relief. A momentary relief as it would have been, it still would have felt good all the same. Instead he sighed and tilted his head to look in the direction of rustles. He saw only grass and hills. Maybe it was the wind. Perhaps he was losing his mind here. Perhaps that was his mission, to lose his mind and forever be trapped in this wonderfully cursed of a body. Perhaps.

With another sigh he got to all fours and crawled back to huddle against the low stone wall. The wind didn't feel cold here, or warm for that matter, but it still bothered him to feel the grass move against his flesh as he slept. The cold stone against his back felt good, felt real, solid. He let out another sigh as he curled himself around his hands and feet, letting his tail flop over to cover his face. Just before sleep took him a few seconds later a thought crossed his mind; what is this was all just one big dream? Wouldn't that be nice.

Sleep and the darkness it accompanied, took him at last and he once again forgot the pains of this world, and found the paradise of the next.

((OOC: Enter as you see fit. Open to all that aren't above level 2.))

[Death's Nephew]

Tommy’s eyes glazed over as boredom began to set in. The monk was flipping through a book, looking for a particular room he said would fit the specter perfectly. However, it seemed this monk was sadly mistaken, since he had been on his little search for more than fifteen minutes.

Running a hand through his soft white hair, he said simply, “Screw it, pal. Just give me whatever ya got.”

The monk looked up with slight irritation in his eyes, but complied nonetheless. “Alright, sir. Follow him.” He pointed to a young monk who gestured for Tommy to follow him down the hall. The flames of the torches that lined this particular corridor jumped back and forth frantically, as if the bodies nearing them were dangerous attackers. That’s odd….I don’t feel any wind…

But it was the magic of the Citadel. Anything could happen here, just as he had learned once a while ago during his first visit. Too bad it had gone badly. Shrugging off the memories that attempted to surface like a shark, he tried to wonder what kind of battle he might be in for today. He was curious, as he had always been during his life, and was eager to pass a judgment on his opponent. Down in the realm between where the good and evil souls go, he always came across evil malicious spirits that felt they had been dealt an unfair hand. It was Tommy’s job, along with others, to put these rebellious cretins in their place.

Up here though, he was able to see the good side of people. Experience kind, heroic souls instead of the vile and grim feelings he’d grown up with; fighting a warrior who was filled with honor and humble pride was an exhilarating event. He wished to continue this pattern until he found who he was searching for…or until they found him. Fate would determine that day. In the meantime, he knew he had to get stronger and far more skilled.

But at his own pace.

Loafing around was another new experience he had taken great pleasure in. Too just sit under a tree or by some steps and watch people go by…it was amazing. Or, he could try his hand in battle at the Citadel, where no one ever stayed dead. Or so the legend says.

Finally arriving at a wooden door with carvings of leaves and grass, the monk bowed to him slightly and returned down the way they’d come. Let’s see what they got for me. He pushed open the door and stepped through the blinding light…into the perfect picture for a doctor’s office. There were big grassy hills, a couple of low meadows, and a ridge that cut off Tommy’s view of anything farther beyond it. Walking cautiously, his eyes caught sight of a randomly placed stonewall on top of a hill. At the base…lay a wolf.

Wait…what? What is that? A hairy person?

He stepped forward a bit more and noticed it was a napping…wolf-boy. Scratching his head in confusion, he called out, “Hey! What are you doing? Are you the guy I’m gonna fight!?”

[Seether]

The silence of the field was agonizing for his ears. They twitched with anticipation every time so much as a grain of sand moved, they swiveled back and forth, taking in all the sounds of the moving grass, as well as a few other sounds. Sometimes, through the veil of sleep, Reann thought they had a mind all to their own, twitching around as they were to seemingly stare off into the distance, their sensitive sensory hairs quivering as incoming sound waves tickled them. Each moved independently to the other, one twisting left when the other twisted right, one twisted forward, the other twisted back. Much to that ones disappointment when it found a wall, it would soon twitch back to scan the surrounding countryside.

His mind never really seemed to stop working, even as he slept. Each night he would partition a piece of his mind to track the ears movements, as well as the sounds the picked up, and then sort through them to determine if they were a risk or just some natural occurrence. It was because of this constant alertness that he heard the magical crackling of someone, or something, entering into his grassy paradise, invading his solitude and furthermore, interrupting his slumber. His ears twitched as one towards the new arrival, each quivering with an alien alertness, each dispatching its own unique warning signals to the brain that controlled them. A moment later his brain activated his nervous system and stirred him into a sleepy wakefulness.

What the Hell?

Uncurling his tail from in front of his face, something he had grown to hate, it was always so warm underneath it, he uncurled himself and stretched, a massive yawn assailing his face at the same time and causing his tongue to stretch out of his mouth in a half-moon like curl. He relaxed as the stretch subsided and sat up to stare into the distance at the approaching person. Confusion immediately overcame him when he caught sight of him. What was he doing here? And why was he scratching his head like that? That was when the man opened his mouth and Reann heard his words.

Alarm raced through is mind when the meaning of his words became meaning. Opponent? What was this man babbling about? Reann wasn’t here to fight, he had come here to rest, to seek solitude. Abruptly the mans apparel registered in Reann’s mind. The man was dressed for a fight, a fight that was to be in his favor, or close to it. Reann was in no condition to fight, he wasn’t even prepared for one, so why was this man here?

Despite his best efforts Reann found himself moving backwards away from the man, he knew that it was a sign of cowardice in anyone’s eyes, but he couldn’t help it. Something within him told him he had to get away, now. His back thudded against the low wall and turned to scramble up it. His feet planted firmly atop the smooth stones Reann turned and was instantly blinded in a brilliant flash of white light.

He screamed as he fell backwards, clutching at his eyes as the white light blinded him completely and before his back hit the soft dirt a booming voice echoed within his head.

FOOL! DO YOU THINK THAT YOU WERE ABLE TO HIDE FROM ME, YOUR CREATOR!

Reann cried again in pain, the voice was like a thousand stones beating against his head. He arched his back and clawed at his chest as the pain washed over him as the words continued to poor forth into his mind.

I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN YOU WERE UNWORTHY OF MY LOVE! I MADE YOU WHO YOU ARE AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME? BY HIDING, COWERING IN A CORNER, UNWILLING TO FIGHT FOR YOUR VERY SURVIVAL!

Reann’s mouth opened and closed as the words tore into his mind, ripping the very fabric of his being to pieces. He could hear his teeth clicking together, a distant sound that corresponded almost exactly the same way his body was twitching. His arms and legs seemed to possess minds of their own, twisting and clenching, muscles binding and cramping, writhing and flailing about. The pain seemed to subside a little bit and Reann could feel his body starting to relax, but the moment of pause was only slight, and the voice returned, two fold and filled with anger.

YOUR TIME OF FREEDOM IS AT AN END FOOL, YOUR LIFE IS AT AN END. I AM TIRED OF LOOKING AFTER YOU AND YOUR PITIFUL EXISTANCE, IF YOU WILL NOT FIGHT, THEN I WILL JUST HAVE TO MAKE SOMEONE DO IT FOR ME.

An instant later the voice, and the pain, was gone.

Feeling came back with a swift abruptness and Reann lost his breath as his body relaxed all at once. His muscles felt sore, as if he had run at a steady pace all day. He sat up, shaking his head groggily as his world came slowly back into focus. He was on the ground, laying next to the wall. He must have fallen.

Regaining his feet he looked out over the wall and froze. A white figure stood in the field below. Not a man clothed in white clothes, but a man swathed in white, glowing like the moon on a clear calm night. His face was indistinguishable but Reann knew what expression was on his face, he didn’t know how he knew, only that he knew. It was rage. Reann tensed when the figure lifted its arm to point at him.

“Now I will destroy you,” it said in a voice that should have cracked the sky and rained death down upon the earth. “Just as I should have done one year ago, as I did to your pitiful family.”

Reann stood, shocked to his very soul as a memory, one he had sworn to himself he would never remember again, rose to the surface of his inner thoughts and played back with a vicious vengeance. He was a farmer, going about his business when suddenly a white light surrounded him and a voice spoke to him. It calmed him and put him to sleep, saying to him that everything would be all right, that it was only there to ask a favor of him. When he had finally awoken he was who he was now, a monster, a reject of society, a pawn in some greater game. Something about that memory tickled something deeper in his mind and he gasped when it came to him.

“You promised,” he whispered. He was sure that the man below him couldn’t hear him; he was surprised again that day when the man below laughed.

“Did you really believe that?” He laughed again and lifted his arm once more. “You are as weak as I thought, foolish mortal!”

His laughter again shook the ground and air around Reann. Abruptly, for the first time in his life, even though he had never known it from the start, Reann was truly alone in the world. A tear began to form in his eye as he clenched his fist and stared down at the ground beneath his feet.

Alone.

The thought shook his world to its core and left him shaken and cracked. Alone. Something stirred within him but he didn’t notice, he could barely focus on the ground beneath him, much less what was happening within him.

Alone. . .

Something stirred again and he finally roused himself long enough to look at it. It was a woman. There were two children at her feet, beautiful children, a boy and a girl. They both looked up at the woman, who must have been their mother, a sad light glittering in their eyes. Reann focused on the woman, and saw too that the glittering in her eyes, but hers was somehow different. As if it was a deeper, stronger emotion. Reann was confused and tilted his head, his eyes still focused on the ground but his mind drifting elsewhere. Abruptly the emotion that the woman harbored in her eyes came to him, and he gasped as his head whipped up.

It was love. This woman, those children. . .they were his!

They were his and this. . .this, god, had destroyed them and now they were sad because he would have to share their fate. It hit home like a hammer on the anvil.

He was going to die.

He stared down at the figure below and flinched when it laughed.

“So, finally catching on mortal? Ha ha! I am going to enjoy watching you die.” Laughter filled the air again and Reann shook.

It took him a moment to realize why. Then he turned his gaze back up to the man sheathed in white and snarled.

“You took my wife,” he said through clenched teeth. “You took my children.” His fist came up and pointed down towards the man, his voice growing louder with every word. “But, you, will, not, have, ME!”

The man below flinched back as Reann leapt up onto the low wall, crouching low atop it, and screamed in his direction. Lifting himself to sit almost on his heels on the low wall, Reann, still screaming, vaulted himself forward off the wall. He hit the ground at a dead run on all fours and closed the distance between him and the man sheathed in white in four bounds. One the fourth bound Reann leapt into the air, arms and legs stretched to either side of him like a flying squirrel, and flew towards the man in white. In the last instant before he would have hit the man he yanked both his knives from their sheaths and slammed down where he thought his neck would be. It was a killing blow, but if this man was a god like he said he was, this was only just the beginning.

((OOC: Disclaimer::

The white figure is the same figure in Reann‘s original history. It is merely a vision and is not a replacement Death Nephew‘s character. Reann can‘t see him, and instead sees the white figure. All the movements performed by this figure are also figments of his imagination, as well as the spoken words. The flash of light and the following dialogue and what not take place within the space of a few seconds, and can only be heard by him. In essence, he thinks Tommy is the white figure, and thus giving him a reason to fight where he had none before.))

[Death's Nephew]

((OOC: Bunny Approved.))

“Whoa wait, what?!” Tommy yelled as he heard the screams of the wolf-thing. “I didn’t take anything!”

He drew one dagger in his left hand as the creature leapt from the stone wall and made its way towards his position. A soft breeze blew by, playing with Tommy’s hair just as the thing was on him. As he bent his knees, he threw up his dagger to meet one of the knives, but failed to block the second. He dropped his stance a bit lower, placing his right hand on the furry chest of the beast and began to push up, keeping its momentum going over his head. Unfortunately, the second knife hit Tommy’s right shoulder, making a small but painful slice. He kept his from steady, ignoring the pain for a second as he finished his defensive tactic.

As the wolf-guy soared off a few feet ahead of Tommy, the specter quickly drew his plynt dagger. Blood slowly began to seep out of his wound and through his jacket. Figures he hits the one part not covered by the stupid chain mail…. His eyes narrowed as he knew the fight was well underway and that this thing wouldn’t stop until his guts littered the pleasant looking scenery. What kind of joke was this anyway? Who did it think he was? Tommy had never met this thing before in his short time on Althanas, nor had he disposed of anyone’s loved ones…recently.

“You freakin’ psycho…” he mumbled as he spun his steel dagger in his hand over and over. He knew perfectly well what the speed of a wolf was, and would rather not be fighting some hybrid version that could think logically. Running wasn’t much of an option since it had taken it less than a few seconds to cover the distance between them. If Tommy had been anyone else, they probably would’ve yelled for the fight to end and hope the monks canceled it in time. Yea, freakin’ right.

“So ya’ wanna’ dance?” He said as he began to slowly circle his opponent. He’d need the length of his Hexfire, but not yet. First he had to figure out how fast and strong this thing really was; or die trying. Sprinting forward with his own natural speed, he hoped to catch the thing by surprise. Another breeze blew by them, as if signaling the start of the second round, sending a leaf dancing between them.

Tommy launched his plynt dagger forward, hoping to surprise the creature into maneuvering away from his attack, while at the same time coming with an uppercut slash from his left hand, aimed for the beast’s jaw. He knew he couldn’t kill it outright, unless it stumbled and fell, at which point he’d take full advantage…but chipping away at it was his best hope.

[Seether]

The god, or Demi-god, or whatever the hell it was - he chose Demi-god because it lay somewhere in the middle - was fast. Very fast. He felt one of his daggers be deflected by the up held hand; he wondered how flesh could stop sharpened bone, but then he remembered that this was a supernatural being, not a mortal but then he felt his other dagger catch flesh, followed by the sweet sound of tearing flesh. And then he was flying over the demi-god, his arms tucking beneath his body due to his downward slashing motion and his feet floating up over his head in a very slow front flip.

Time slowed as his body came around in a slow mid-air summersault, so slow that he could even pick out the individual hairs on the back of the Demi-gods head. They were a silvery fluorescent color, and they glinted in the wind as the Demi-god followed through with its throwing motion with its other hand. That must have been how Reann had flown over him, he must have pushed him using his strange powers. Reann snarled at the back of the Demi-gods head and the world resumed its normal speed.

Finishing the front flip with a grandeur flourish Reann pounded his feet into the ground and let himself flop to his knees and let his arms take most of the cushion in his fall. It probably wasn't a very smart move, but it save him from a possible broken limb should he let himself flail about. It took a half second to regain his breath and then he spoke.

"For a Demi-God, you're pre--"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence when a prickling sensation crawled up his back and into his neck. Time slowed for him once more as a gust of wind burst through the field, bringing to him a collection of sounds and smells. First was the metallic scent of blood mixing with steel, that would have been the Demi-gods blood, but where had the steel come from? Demi-gods didn't wear armor, did they? Next was hardened leather, possible a jacket, or boots. Then came sweat, he didn't know Demi-gods sweat. Maybe they were more human than he thought. Next came the sound of grass, being forced aside as a body side through them, rushing straight for Reann's back. There was also the sound of a blade, slicing through the air, a thin whistle, almost unheard save to the ears of the very sensitive, or the very enraged.

Time slowed; Reann guessed, and then twisted.

His eyes caught the glint of a metal blade sliding just past his stomach; he could feel the very sharp blade slicing through his fine hairs. He had guessed right. Then he caught a glimpse of something else moving towards his face; it was white. He had only time to widen his eyes when the fist found his lower jaw, connecting with a solid sounding crunch.

The world exploded white as he felt the fist lifted him up off his knees into the air. Even as he flew into the air he twisted with what little comprehension he had left, preparing to experience a very rough landing.

Time once again resumed its normal pace and Reann landed with a solid thunk and slide a small ways into the grass. His head rang and he could feel his jaw on the point of unhinging itself. If that Demi-god had hit him only just a little bit harder, Reann would have not only an unhinged jaw, but possibly a broken one. He rose to his feet slowly, shaking his head and holding his forhead with one of his hands, and spun to face the Demi-god, a bone blade pointed straight towards him.

"You caught me off guard, it will not happen again."

His voice was low and he wiped a hand across his mouth; it came away bloody. He chuckled a mirthless chuckle and settled himself down into a low crouch, ready to spring in any direction, in the blink of an eye.

He hoped this Demi-god was enjoying this, because Reann was about to put a whole new meaning to the word mortal, and the term revenge.

[Death's Nephew]

Yes! Tommy thought triumphantly as his uppercut hit its mark. With his dagger in hand, his punch had been reinforced from holding the hilt of the weapon. As the beast flew through the air once more, he rolled forward, snatching his dagger out of the ground. Tucking it away, he got to his feet quickly just as the thing made some silly remark of not being caught off guard again.

“You freakin’ wish, pal. Let’s keep this baby, rollin!” He growled. He didn’t want to use his Flaming Fist so early in the fight, but he could tell things were going to get a lot uglier. The wolf-guy had regained his stance of fighting while Tommy was mainly scrambling to stay alive. How would he be any good as a protector to two important “legends”?

This was some sort of trial. It had to be. The angels were watching him and felt putting him in a hopelessly desperate situation would be good practice. Horrible situations outside in the real world were bound to occur often in his line of work. He’d best be prepared for them. Yea…thanks guys. Tommy thought as his right eye twitched. He was nervous. This was bad. Animals could smell any type of fear, and being nervous was a good type.

Suddenly, from over the ridge, a male deer, or buck, appeared. From seemingly out of nowhere. This was incredibly odd since Tommy was under the presumption that deer often ran away from people. It watched them silently, not moving, not looking around…just them. Well this is kinda creepy… Tommy thought as he clenched and unclenched his right fist.

He’d need to think of a plan, one that might involve luring the beast into a trap…since it did seem to be slightly out of it. Why on Althanas would it say he took his wife and kids? I’ll be sure to ask as I stand over his dying body. Tommy thought as a plan entered his head. Slowly raising his dagger a little, he tensed his arm to the point of feeling the muscles beginning to slowly tear as if he were lifting weights. He then flung it straight up into the air, catching the sun with the steel. As it soared high into the blue abyss, shining like a glorious star, he hoped it would act as the perfect distraction as he…ran away. There was a patch of trees on the hill next to theirs, and using its branches might give him the edge he needed. He’d been climbing around in the underworld on slippery rocks and wall sides since he could walk, so fighting in the tree tops would prove no real daunting task on his sense of balance.

I sure hope he doesn’t notice me gone too quickly… He thought as he leapt onto the first tree and began climbing.

[Seether]

Reann followed the gaze of the Demi-god as it caught a glimpse of something way up top a nearby ridge. Reann squinted as a black clad figure strode to the edge and lifted an arm into the air.

"Kyan, you fool! Your meddling with the lives of mortals has come to an end!"

The figure in black lifted one of its arms and a bright white bar of liquid light spat forth from its outstretched fingers, straight for the Demi-god. Reann heard him scream and he whipped his head around just in time to avoid a falling dagger, as well as a small explosion of dirt and grass as the white bar hit the ground. Then he saw the Demi-god scrambling up a nearby tree, and judging by his movements, he was very afraid.

Reann looked back up to the ridge in confusion and started back in surprise when the black clad figure pointed at him. He instantly brought a hand up to defend himself, not that it would have done much against that white bar of liquid light, but instead of seeing light, he heard words.

"Get your weapons mortal, you will need them if you are to win this fight."

Then, in a flash of black nothingness the figure was gone, placed in its stead was a large buck, eyes staring directly down at the occupants of the field below. Reann lowered his hand, blinking at the ridge and the buck, then bent to pick up the dagger. It was of a good quality steel and he guessed it would serve him well, even if he hadn‘t made it himself, in this fight and beyond. The Demi-god was a fool to throw away his weapon like that, but Reann guessed that it was now probably all part of his grand scheme to kill him.

Tucking the knife into his belt Reann glanced up at the tree. He could still feel the burning rage deep in his chest to kill the Demi-god, but the words the figure in black had spoken stuck to him. He did have to find his weapons, daggers were no good to him here.

He crouched and in three strides he was bounding off towards the low wall. He reached it a few seconds later and was over the edge in less than one, searching for his discarded weapons. He reemerged a few seconds later slinging a bow across his shoulder and tying a full quiver around his waist, as well as untying a sling from around the quiver case. Tucking the sling into his belt pouch Reann unlimbered his bow from his shoulder and called out to the Demi-god hiding the tree.

"Come down from that tree Demi-god, I will not be fooled into a trap laid down in fear. Come and kill me so that you might have your revenge on a creation gone awry!"

And with that Reann leapt down from the edge of the wall, drew and arrow and knocked it on the string. He drew in one smooth motion, pulled the fletching to his ear and let the bowstring snap forward, propelling the arrow forward faster than a normal eye could follow. His target, a glimpse of white cloth he saw between the branches of the tree. He knew the shot wouldn't hit anything, anything important that was, but he hoped that it at least hit something on the Demi-gods person. It would be helpful to see if this thing really did feel pain and if it too, could be caught off guard.

He began walking forward, pulling another arrow from his quiver and knocking it too to the string but this time he did not draw. Instead he continued walking forward at a slow pace, eyes squinting into the trees branches as well as the ground beneath the tree, searching for any sign of the Demi-god.

[Death's Nephew]

Tommy hauled himself up yet another branch, finally feeling fatigue wear in. He was getting tired, but mostly from running. He had to outsmart this thing. It kept acting like they knew each other, and now he was calling him a Demi-god. To top it all off, he’d taken his dagger. The specter had not seen that coming at all.

Rotten bastard… Tommy thought as he knelt down on a fairly large branch. He inhaled slowly as he could barely see the thing’s figure beyond the bunches of leaves, wondering what it was doing. Looking to his left, he saw a squirrel just sitting there, staring at him. Not even afraid in the slightest. Weird freakin’ animals.

Suddenly, the leaves exploded as something shot through them. Tommy felt blood trickle out of his left cheek, and eyed the arrow’s fletching that was right next to his face. The projectile was lodged into the tree itself, and narrowly missed his face by less than a quarter of an inch. Shaken, he reached for the arrow and yanked it out of the wood, gripping it tightly in his hand. This was it. He had no other choice.

Never before in his life had he ever had to resort to such methods. Keeping skills at bay because he was in a bind; he’d always had the upper hand in almost any fight. This was an entirely new concept to him. To lose; to actually lose a fight for his life. No! You can’t lose! Think! Think!!!

And then it came to him. It wasn’t a fool proof plan, but it was better than just dodging arrows in a tree. Taking out his plynt dagger, he started hacking away at some of the large branches near him. There were about five feet long or so, and about four to five inches in diameter. Tearing a couple off, he used his Flaming Fist, letting his right hand become engulfed in a dark green flame. Watching the thing approach him slowly, he shifted one of the branches to touch the fire. It caught and slowly began to spread across the branch like an ant trail of fiery doom. It climbing up its leaves and tiny little branches before finally reaching the main branch; grinning, he did the same to the other branch he’d hacked off. Lighting it the same way, he held both in each hand, watching the dark emerald embers edge their way along the brown, rough bark. Now!

He hurled the one in his right hand at the distorted image of the wolf-thing and sent the left one slightly above it. As they left bits of jade flames on the tree itself, Tommy ran to the edge of his branch and leapt out, holding his plynt dagger in his left hand again and his right fist still on fire. His aim was to land on top of the thing and beat it into submission, hoping it was taking more notice of the fiery onslaught of nature than his descent upon it.

[Seether]

The Demi-god was a fool. Reann had thought for sure that he would have compensated for his enhanced hearing, but judging from what the fool was doing now, Reann found that he was sourly disappointed. The obvious sounds of a blade hacking at wood came from within the tree, as well as the snapping noise of branches being pulled from their roots within the tree trunk. The man was making clubs, or either spears. Either way it was a futile gesture.

Reann squinted into the branches, catching glimpses of the white clad figure moving about behind the leaves. He was up to something, but what? Reann decided that he was too close to the base of the tree, he was nearly beneath the large over hang of low branches and leaves, and retreated back a few steps to stand in a more open spot. He resumed his study of the tree, again wondering what the fool was up to when abruptly something exploded out from the green mesh of leaves.

The five foot length of branch crackled and popped as the flames that engulfed it seared through the air, on a straight path towards Reann's head. It looked almost like a vortex of brown surrounded by a wreath of fire and Reann did the only thing he could think of doing in that instant between panic and ultimate surprise. He dove to the left, his bow and arrow left to fly their own path, and his cry of surprise was muffled as he landed shoulder first in the soft brown dirt beneath the grass. An instant of panic gripped him and he scrambled to regain his stance; if he couldn't stand up at this critical junction of this encounter, he was just as the Demi-god said he would be: dead.

He was still scrambling about when a second flaming branch imbedded itself in the soft dirt just beside him. The red hot flames seared his flesh and melted some of his fur, but thankfully it didn't catch. He rolled away from the flames and had only enough time to blink between rolls when he saw the descending form of the Demi-god, flying through the air like a screaming banshee, a wickedly sharp dagger brandished in one hand, the other shrouded in an equally sick looking green flame.

Reann yelped as he continued to roll and came to his feet a short distance from where the Demi-god had landed. The Demi-god was just coming to his feet, the flames around his hand crackling and Reann could feel the smile on the mans face as he turned to face him.

"Foolish mortal, now you die."

Reann growled and pulled his two daggers free of their sheaths and brandished them towards the Demi-god. A wicked smile formed on his own face as he pointed one towards the man.

"If I am to die then, I wish to die with what little dignity you had the heart enough to leave me." Reann paused and then tilted his head down a little, his smile growing wider. "You should have never come back."

It was at the instant that Reann tilted his head back, closed his eyes and let loose a cry that instilled fear into any mans heart, demi-god or no. The howl was still echoing through the field after Reann lowered his gaze back to the Demi-god.

"Now," Reann said through clenched teeth. "I will show you why men fear my kind!"

Growling from deep within his throat Reann crouched and leapt into the air, daggers brandished to each side of his body, his body shaped much like that of a cross as he dove straight for the chest of the Demi-god. His plan was simple, head butt the fool and then slam both his daggers into his sides, or his back, which ever was closest to the point of impact. He didn't care whether the flame touched him, or the dagger descended into his back, he could still feel the effects of his howl and if he had been cut open from head to toe, his blood would have been boiling with rage.

((OOC: Minor bunnying approved))

[Death's Nephew]

((OOC: Bunny Approved.))

“You….crazy…bastard…” Tommy said through clenched teeth. His muscles were refusing to move. Whatever the howl had done, it had worked perfectly. His teeth were chattering, his knees were wobbly, and a cold sweat had broken out on his forehead. His arms were stuck in a curling position, as if he were getting ready to work out. His eyes stuck on the beast as it began to lunge at him with a possibly fatal attack.

“You can’t possibly lose now. Not when you’ve already began to learn so much. Tyrael and the other one can’t depend on you if you’re completely useless.” A voice said from within his head.

Huh?! What the…

Ignoring the words, he gained a bit of movement in his right arm and used his last few seconds alive to initiate a counterattack. He jerked his right forearm forward, launching one of the five fireballs he could make. It was the size of his fist, but it had enough punch in it to keep this beast at bay. The emerald flaming fist connected right with the chest of the wolf-thing just as it was close enough for Tommy to smell its breath. The fire let out of burst of pressure that sent both of them flying backwards, but not before Tommy reached out and snatched his dagger from the thing’s belt.

The beast flew backwards, rolling onto the ground, stopping any potential fire from spreading onto its now slightly dirty fur. Tommy landed hard on his back, the wind knocked out of him. He groaned as beautiful stars clouded his vision, creating a sense of light headedness. Sitting up, he sighed as he noticed his green fire was spreading from the branches. He knew it might happen, but was hoping it wouldn’t. Now time was a factor. A big one. Either one of them falls, or they roast like chestnuts.

Getting to his feet, he heard the subtle sounds of the flames around his fist. The soft whooshes and the way it danced about his knuckles made him wish he was almost back home, where he’d never come across a challenge as hard as this one. “Giving up already? Guess I was wrong about you.”

Shove it, angel boy. Tommy thought as put both his daggers away. Drawing Hexfire from his back, he readied the long sword in his left hand, while keeping his right fist clenched as tightly as it could go. The rune blade's obsidian gem glimmered in the jade flames, as is enjoying the spectacle, eager to spill blood, eager to pass a judgement of its own.

On the ridge, a crowd of animals had gathered, as if watching the almost kin battling with a human. Alongside the deer were rabbits, birds, foxes, small wildcats, and a couple of large robust bears. None moved. None made any noise. Just watched silently. It was creeping Tommy the hell out.

I’m gonna start knockin’ them off one by one if they don’t cut the shit… he thought as he slid his right foot back and held Hexfire at the ready.

[Seether]

Reann coughed as he stopped rolling and lifted himself up onto his hands and knees. Something was crackling beside him. His chest burned with a white hot pain and it was leaving him breathless; he pushed the pain to the back of his mind and opened his eyes.

In his left hand he still clutched one of his knives, his right was empty. He didn't know where the knife had flow to, he didn't care. The demi-god had finally revealed his true power. The crackling grew louder and Reann looked up and finally saw what it was.

Fire.

Abruptly the world crashed down atop Reann and he screamed in pain. Snapping himself to his feet Reann clawed at the branch that had fallen onto his back and flung it from his flesh to crash into the trunk of the now burning tree. He was lucky the branch wasn't engulfed in flames; he'd be dying a very painful death right now if it was. Wiping his nose he turned and found himself staring into what appeared to be hell itself.

Oh no!

The entire prairie seemed to be engulfed in flame. Blood red flames licking at the air as pale white smoke billowed and curled above the plain, stretching into the pale blue sky. The grass was dry. The was the only explanation for it. There was no way this demi-god, who apparently liked to fight hand to hand, could possess this kind of power. Reann's gaze took in all the fire, all the smoke and then found the angels, standing sentry atop the ridge where he had first seen the black clad figure. He gapped and took a half step backward, fear coming to his eyes but before he could run, one of the angels spoke.

"Your bow Reann, pick up your bow."

Huh?

His foot landed on something smooth and Reann looked down. His bow was laying in the grass, propped up by the grass so that it was easy to grab. As luck would have it his lost arrow was next to it as well. He bent to pick them both up, his fear suddenly passing into the wind and turned to face the demi-god, who was now brandishing a very wicked looking sword.

Hefting his bow Reann pointed with his arrow. "What is it you want from me, daemon?" Demi-god or not, Reann decided that now this man, this creature, was now more daemon than god.

The daemon smiled. "Your blood boy, your blood."

Reann growled.

"You disgust me," he said through clenched teeth as he placed the arrow on his bows string calmly, paying no attention to the spreading fire around him. "And just for that, you will die." In the blink of an eye Reann drew the fletching to his ear, took aim and loosed his arrow. It whistled through the air and was headed straight for the daemons chest. With out missing a beat Reann reached down, pulled another arrow from his quiver, knocked it, and took aim.

He was ready to loose the second should the daemon counter with one of his own ranged attacks, if he was still alive to do so, or should his first arrow fail in its mission. The fire raged on around them, slowly closing them in in a circle of flame. It was just the two of them now, deamon and wolf-hybrid. The end would be bloody or be wreathed in flame.

[Death's Nephew]

Tommy stood there, dumbfounded. Now he was a daemon. What the hell was going on? Before he could even ask the question, the beast unleashed an arrow straight for his chest, which would’ve pierced his heart had he not been able to use basic instinct in reacting, more like the way someone might suddenly jolt away when a fly neared their face. His sword deflected the arrow’s tip, sending it flying to his right, striking the buck in the chest. The amount of power it still had to pierce the buck after being deflected said a lot about the beast’s power. The buck swayed on its legs, still not making any sounds, and fell over the ridge, into the fire that had spread to just below it’s lip.

None of the other animals had moved.

Before he had a chance to rejoice in the death of the annoying creature, an arrow slammed into his upper left chest, easily breaking through the chain mail and tearing through his flesh as if it were nothing more than fresh mud. Screaming in pain as the force of the projectile pushed his body into a 180 degree turn, he dropped his sword from the loss of feeling in his hand. As he turned, he used the rest of his momentum to keep spinning, rage and anger mixing with the pain. He had one last major attack left in him, since the arrow and taken out his left arm, and the fire was closing in on them inch by inch. As he came to face the creature once more, he let out for quick punches, each sending a flaming fist towards the beast, two by two formation. As his fist de-flamed, he fell to a knee, unable to get back up to his feet. His energy was low, his will to survive high, and the fire intense. He was sweating profusely, and the only thing that kept him smiling was the fact that the buck had died from the arrow or the flames. Anything else was gravy.

“You may not win, but you fought to end, young one. You’ve proven your worth.”

Blow me… Tommy thought as shifted uncomfortably on his knee, sending lightning sharp pains along his upper back. It was then he realized the arrow had gone out the other side, but was still lodged firmly in his chest. Blood was seeping from the wounds, but not as fast as if he would’ve pulled it out. Groaning, he coughed harshly, laughing as he saw his own blood falling from his lips. So this…is what it means to be defeated…

The fire was closing in faster now, leaving both fighters with only less than two minutes before both were smothered by emerald and ruby flames.

[Seether]

It took him an agonizing instant to realize that he had lied. Lied to himself, to his family, and to that bastard clothed in white.

He had promised the daemon that he wouldn't be caught off guard again in this fight. So when the daemon launched its final counter-attack, for there would be no more fighting this day, the fire was too intense to escape now, Reann did the only thing he could do. He smiled a sad smile. He watched in silence as the four small spheres of fire spun towards him and then inhaled sharply when the world flashed, blinding him in a white light that stretched endlessly in every direction.

He blinked and then cautiously sniffed at the air. Something wasn't right, he shouldn't have been able to do that. Yet, he was. He blinked as the world began to fade once more into the shades of color that he had left it in. The harsh reds and oranges of the prairie fire spreading around him, the billowing white smoke rising from the flames to blot out the very sky, the angels, standing along the ridge and the daemon, falling to one knee, an arrow protruding from his left shoulder. That was when he saw the flaming balls. They were frozen in mid-air, the first two less than a foot from his face. He reached up to touch one. . .

And blinked in surprise when he found that his hand wouldn't move. In fact, it hadn't moved at all. It was still locked in the same position it had been when he had released his third, and last, arrow. He couldn’t even flex his fingers. He could feel every part of his body, but he could not move them.

What?

Something stepped out from the flames and began walking towards Reann. Reann tried to twist and see who it was walking towards him but he again realized that he couldn't move, anything, at all. Panic overcame him, the rage over fighting the daemon suddenly gone, as if it never existed and he tried writhed in his unseen prison.

"Rest easy Reann," a voice said from beside him. Reann jerked, or rather would have jerked if he wasn't bound as he was, and tried to move his eyes to see who had spoken to him. All he caught was a glimpse of white cloth shrouded in a white light. Panic overcame him a second time; the daemon was here!

He began whimpering as he struggled to move. All he had to do was get one arm to move and he could strike! He could end this, here and now. End his suffering for all time. All he had to do was. . .

A hand, almost out of nowhere, reached up and touched the side of his skull and memories instantly flashed through his mind. A child, yes, there was a child. An infant child. No. Two children, two infant children. And a woman. Their mother perhaps? There was a man, holding the children in his arms. The man turned, he was their father, and smiled at the woman. They were husband and wife. Reann would have smiled if he could have moved. Then the man turned to face him, a small smile crossing his face and Reann instantly recognized who it was. It was him, when he was a human! And that, that was his wife. And those, those were his children! A tear began forming in his eye as the memory flashed, then was gone, replaced by another. A white light, there was a bright white light. A figure emerged and spoke. It said no words but Reann knew that it had spoken, he had seen this once before already. It was speaking to him, when he had first taken on this form. The figure materialized into a discernable shape and Reann could feel the tear dry in his eye as he felt rage building in his chest; the daemon!

The hand pulled away and the memories ceased. There was a few seconds of agonizing, tear filled raging silence before the voice spoke again.

"I just thought it would be appropriate if you died in a proper fashion."

And then the figure was gone. Reann hadn't seen it leave, but he knew, somehow, without having to see it move, that it was gone. And in its absence he knew what he had been given. He knew exactly what he had been given and the tears began to form anew in his eyes.

The world flashed white and everything resumed its normal motions once more. Just before the first balls of flame hit his body his smile changed, it changed from being triumphant to joyful. He had seen his life flash before his eyes. In all the fights he had been in within this place, that had never once happened to him. He died with the image of his dead wife and kids, his family in his mind.

The first two balls of flame did little else but push him back a little, for they were aimed a bit high and all they did was knock him off balance a bit as well as causing his fur to begin burning. He didn't feel a thing as the flames raced across his body, eating at the fur faster than a piranha at meat. The pain, might as well have been someone else’s. A short second later the other two balls of flame found his flesh and it was these that sent him flying backwards, a concussion of air and swirling flames following him as he went. By the time he hit the ground he was completely engulfed in flames and his body was on the verge of dying. He still didn't feel any pain as he body writhed and twisted on the ground, flesh and fur peeling from muscle and bone as he did so.

His second to last thought before dying was that of a young boy who had first walked in on his paradise of long grass and soft breezes. Then the boy changed, he was kneeling, an arrow protruding from out of his left shoulder, a thin trickle of blood falling out from between his lips. Reann gasped one last ragged breath, ruined eyes widening in horror, before the darkness of death engulfed him and pulled him from the waking world, to the next.

((OOC: Spoils: My health and all of my weapons save two arrows, both lost to the flames. The third one turns up miraculously unscathed when the monks come in to clean up.))

[Death's Nephew]

Tommy couldn’t believe his eyes as the beast took all four shots of his attack. The first two had hit it high, but the last two had been what sealed the deal. He watched as the body flew backwards, limbs flailing in response the intense heat, nerves sparking out causing them to jerk this way and that, almost demonically. But through it all, he could see its eyes. And they seemed to be filled with a sense of horrific regret, as if seeing Tommy for the very first time.

He tried getting up to his feet, but stumbled miserably as his knees gave out on him. He was paler than ever before, the amount of blood loss much too great for him to even crawl. His body fell like a tree, slamming into the ground with a resounding thud that shook his very skeletal structure. His muscles worn out, his breathing short, he uttered a soft, “Get me the hell out of here…” as he watched the flames reach the already engulfed wolf-thing and begin crawling towards the half-specter.

“My my! And I thought you were done for! Well, it would appear that you are, but you’ve won the battle! Congratulations!”

“Suck…my….ba-“ Tommy tried to say as he passed out, not even caring anymore if he joined his uncle down in the dark depths of the Underworld.

***

Tommy bolted up, afraid and confused. He was in a completely white room, save for the mahogany door. Next to him, a monk was wiping his hands, obviously pleased with himself. “Good as new.” He said with a smile.

“Uh…thanks.” The specter said swinging his legs off the high table. He reached for his jacket which was resting on a chair and began to put it on slowly. There were no holes or slices from the battle in it. The magic of the Citadel was amazing.

“What…was that thing I was fighting?” Tommy said as he shrugged his shoulders into a comfortable position under the soft leather.

The monk only grinned at him and walked out of the room, leaving Tommy to ponder the question. Was this some sort of real test? Did the angel and my uncle plan this out from the beginning?! Angry, but grateful for the lesson he was taught, he made a goal that he would become more skilled as soon as possible. He may have “won” the fight, but winning doesn’t matter much when you die anyway.

“Loafing around is gonna get my ass killed…” he muttered as he stepped out of the room.


((No spoils.))

[Logan]

Seether:
1. Introduction: 4 – I was rather intrigued at first by the “lazy” beginning but when you pulled out the whole demi-god thing, I was thrown for a loop. It really added another level to the entire battle. This could've been a lot better in my opinion, though.

2. Setting: 2 – Ok, I wish the setting had been a little more original, or even unique. But really, what hurt you here was the fact that even though your char is a werewolf(essentially) the trees should've masked Tommy more when he was in them. Next time just, I dunno, use something more unique and original.

3. Strategy: 3 – There was nothing that made me just go “wow”. In this particular battle from your end it was just mediocre at times. I'm really a stickler for a creativity, so this definitely hurt you in this category. Also, the fact that in the beginning, blows that should've at least landed or something, just miraculously missed, was a bit far fetched for me as the reader, so I docked you on that.

4. Writing Style: 4 – This originally was going to be MUCH lower, but the more I read the stuff with the demi-god and the “white light” I began to find myself enjoying things more, which I lend to your style. When you enjoy writing something, it shows, and your particular style lends itself well in those times. Besides the few grammatical and spelling errors, you did well.

5. Rising Actions: 4 – This whole battle seemed to do nothing but rise, which is why I'm giving you what you are getting here. Just the continuing build was nice, however, next time you might consider actually reducing the length of it, as that can get to be a bit much for a reader. It's kinda like being on a roller coaster that just goes straight up and NEVER drops. Kinda boring after a while.

6. Dialogue: 5 – The only reason you netted a 5 was because of the demi-god talk. I would've liked more interaction, but there was quite a bit of body language that spoke through the mental barrier of Reann's not being able to see Tommy.

7. Climax: 7 – I think the climax was hit on the head here. Simply put, the moment where everything freezes and then bam, he sees Tommy as Tommy for the first time, it was brilliant. This right here was your bread winner, keep it up!

8. Character: 4 – You did fine here, it could've been better, but all in all it was fine. You stuck with your character's strengths and didn't do anything totally and completely absurd. I did dock you though for the really insane miracles that happened in the beginning.

9. Conclusion: 5 – You know, something happened in your battle, especially here. I could sense this almost maturing state for your character and then the finality of the battle and well, submitting, was beautiful. Really, if you keep up this kind of quality endings, you'll rival some of the better writers here.

10. Wild Card: 3 – This was a little hard for me to figure out. I based this off two things. One, the absurd amounts of luck your character had, and just the flow of your initial posts. There was some in the end, but in the beginning it was just missing. I know you can do better.

Total: 41

Death's Nephew:
1. Introduction: 6 – I liked how you worked in the whole monk interaction. It didn't feel forced, well done. Plus adding in the sincere shocked response to what was happening with Reann was nice.

2. Setting: 3 – Read comments for Seether. I gave you a point higher because you utilized the trees.

3. Strategy: 4 – I docked you for the same reason as Seether, however, you did get hit, and so you notched a point for that. I also liked using the branches and lighting them on fire. It worked well for you.

4. Writing Style: 4 – You had less errors, but the flow in the end seemed less, too. Overall you both were pretty equal, which is why you see the equal scores here. You still had errors though, so be a little more careful.

5. Rising Actions: 3 – Ok, so, same as Seether's comments, though, it didn't rise as much for you. I didn't feel as much excitement as the reader when the battle neared the end from the standpoint of your posts.

6. Dialogue: 4 – Even though Tommy couldn't talk to Reann, I still would've liked to see him try more, I guess. Really, it just came down to less body language for Tommy. Even though I felt along with the character, his physical responses to the situations presented seemed almost empty. Next time maybe add some body language and facial expression.

7. Climax: 2 – It felt like things were becoming forced, like the end of the battle had to happen soon. Interest almost seemed to dwindle. I really am not sure what happened, but this wasn't very good from what I've seen you can do from the beginning of this battle. It almost felt similar to how Seether started the battle, just very lazy like.

8. Character: 6 – You did well here, actually. It wasn't as deep as I'd have liked it to be, but staying within the bounds of your character and using that did you well. I liked, I liked a lot.

9. Conclusion: 6 – You did come back to conclude it well, which is why I gave you some points here. There could've been more, but you came back to where you started, with the monks. I liked, and am pleased here.

10. Wild Card: 5 – Ok, so I liked the flames, and the monks, and well, the reaction to the staring animals was nice. I would've liked to see more play into the silent, staring animals though. It seemed empty in the end, where it seemed to have a point in the beginning.

Total: 43

Winner: Death's Nephew

Special Note from Judge: I liked both of your styles at different points. Seether, you did fine in the end, but the beginning was just a bit hard for me to follow. Death's Nephew, you did fine in the beginning, but in the end it just felt forced. All in all I felt you both did a good job and look forward to seeing more from both. Good luck!

Spoils:

Seether:
Experience Points: 82 points gained
Arrows approved, health approved.
Gold earned: 60 gold

Death's Nephew:
Experience Points: 372 points gained
Gold earned: 100 gold

edit: gold added, too.

[Thoracis]

EXP and GP added!