As Ivan ran into a circular room he noticed a golden scroll positioned in the middle of the room. Held in place by a stone hand gripping tightly around it. "Too easy. Must be a trap." Ivan thought as he saw the scroll. And indeed it was, as just a moment later he was smacked against the floor by a massive stone serpents tail swipe. The serpent bore fangs, but seemed unable to close it's mouth as ti's jawline was one solid piece of rock wheras the joints of it's body were fractured. Ivan ran to the scroll trying to snag it without having to defeat the snake, but the stone hand gripped onto the scroll too tightly to remove it. The serpent swept it's tail again and as Ivan dodged it the tail slammed into the hand breaking off one of the fingers. "That would work, if only I could get that serpent to directly hit the stone hand." He dodged another swipe of it's tail as he moved between the stone hand and the serpent. The serpent now realising Ivan was within striking distance of it's head slammed headfirst into the stone hand as Ivan barely dodged the sharp fangs. The scroll was now loose from the hands grip and the snake had sunken one of it's fangs deep enough into the stone to get stuck. Ivan reached for the scroll and in a moment of lacking awareness he got smacked by the serpents tail again. He had the scroll, but he had a small cut on his arm and he was certain it would leave a nasty bruise mark later.

Recognising the sigil of the spool around which the scroll was wound he opened it in disbelieve that he was actually holding one of the scrolls which had been presumed to be lost centuries ago. "Unbelievable, to think that I'd ever see one of these. The lost scrolls of Malifice the thaumaturge. Ah, now I understand upon which basis he said that regular magic pales in front of T-energy mages. To even think that something like that is possible, the implications of this could be massive. To use T-energy crystals as a conduit to change energy and matter without a direct link."

He was still reading the scroll as the maze faded out of existance and the messeges from the Black Rabbit came through. The scroll too faded out of existance taking away Ivans ability to read beyond the basics he had read. It was a shame the scroll dissapeared, but more pressing matters were at hand. He looked up at the army of shades and beyond that the obvious leaders, and the lumbering giant in the back, as he listened to the second part of the Rabbit's announcement. He smirked as the lie hit his ears. "You shouldn't have said that, now I am forced to help. I wouldn't want my ancestors look down upon me and see me break my oath as a mage of the college. In life and in death, a mage should never abandon those who need his help." He thought as he saw the ice spikes raise from the ground. He then was pleasantly surprised by a blessing of fortitude from the demon he saw before. "I will apologise in advance as I will make use of your kind blessing in a less refined way." He said to the demon.

Then he turned the energy he gained from the blessing into a bolt of pure ice white lightning striking one of the shades from affar. He knew how to deal with the undead, and if one thing can tear through a horde of undead it was lightning charged with holy flames. The shade bursted into white flames and quickly ignited the ones next to him. It took four shades out in total as the rest gracefully avoided touching the white flames. It was a nice trick, but it didn't help all that much, especially since he couldn't replicate it without another blessing. Not even to mention that next time they won't lumber into one another as one catches flame.

Ivan knew his power alone was lacking, certainly in this rather unarmed state. But he could see an opportunity to deal another energy effective blow. He formed a cloud of T-energy crystal dust and let it float over the army. Out of the cloud rain began to fall, hitting the shades and making them soaking wet as they moved on. It would be a good set up for the demon in the front who had created those ice spikes. Maybe he could pick off a few of the soaked shades. Trowing another bolt of lightning or maybe a fireball would have been an option too, but at the range he was at it would be too inefficient, compared to the cloud. The previous bolt had only been so effective because of the holy flames, which ripps every shred of life out of the living dead that touch it.

Pravus stepped through the dim hallways, the strange woman's corpse resting on his shoulders. Just as he was coming to a circular room the walls began to flicker. All the surfaces around him began to turn yellow as the entire facility disintegrated before him. He stood in a fairly spread out crowd of people, all contestants participating in the same challenge he was faced with. This radical change of scenery was this buildings most impressive capability yet in his eyes.
The ability to completely remove an entire building while leaving it's occupants where they last stood? Quite the magic indeed He mused before the new situation made itself more pertinent.

"All Participants, evacuate back to your worlds! The event has been called off, I repeat, evacuate to your own worlds! We are under attack and for your own safety you must return home!"

Another strange woman, this one sporting a pair of rabbit's ears, spoke into a microphone attached to a golden spear. He noticed the fine spear and began to wonder just what it was made of.
Depending on the material I may see to acquiring myself a weapon of similar make Pravus's mind dwelled on the topic of the spear no longer as a golden portal appeared behind him. Looking back he stared back at the portal that had just opened, contemplating a difficult choice. He could enter the portal and bury the body he was holding, being done with it and moving back onto the remaining people of his city. On the other hand he did not know whether or not the body would remain with him upon entering the portal.

"We can handle everything here, step through the portals and leave this place!"

Now that the rabbit woman mentioned it he turned to assess the threat. About a hundred shadow warriors clad in leather armor and armed with basic iron swords and wooden shields, some with helmets. At the back of their ranks stood six unique lieutenants and one who he assumed commanded the magically animated army charging his position. Judging by the lack of cohesiveness and the rather barbaric approach to the armies charge it became apparent to Pravus that these shadow warriors were rather green when it came to warfare. It stirred a sense of nostalgia in his mind and in his heart as he looked upon the the horde approaching them.

Memories of scarcely armored Ru'ulian barbarians charging their lines, their bodies painted with magical inks. He recalled the sound of their druids singing foreign magics, trees and various elements of the forest animating to fight alongside them. Watching the rabbit woman set up a magical circle around the other warriors while they marshalled their forces to her reminded him of his own shield and spear rows as they stood in tightly knit lines awaiting the inevitable clash. Seeing the various mages of the group casting their spells over the approaching enemies took his memory back to all those moments right before the engage when the imperial mages would cast their artillery magic, laying waste to the enemy with wide spread energy strikes before they got too close to their line, clearing a majority of the Ru'ulian's before they could even engage the shield wall. The impending battle that was to occur here woke the soldier within him.

Gently he set the dead woman's body on the cold stone floor. He reached up and closed her eyes before standing up straight again. "I will find time to bury you yet. I must stay and assist in the battle for now.
There will be plenty of bodies to bury on this day." He spoke to the cold corpse on the floor despite knowing that her soul could not hear him right now. With those words said to her he turned away from the dead and the portal before her to face
the oncoming shadows.

There was no way that he was going to back down from this fight. He lied to himself, telling himself that he was staying to bury the bodies of those that will die this day. He would bury the bodies, there was no doubt of that, but his reasons for why he was going ahead with this were much more personal. Being so reminiscent of his former battles he remembered the regret he felt for having always relied on the Empowerment Gems provided by the military. With those he was always a seasoned veteran with vastly superior skill and vigor to his enemies. He was never truly challenged as a result of this crutch he supported himself upon those twenty long years. He was going to prove himself. He was going to prove that he won all those battles because he was a skilled spear man, not because he was given a skilled spear man's experience artificially. Ultimately he was doing this to prove himself, not to anyone else but to himself.

The grim Grave Tender strode up to the group who stood within the yellow rune. He concluded that there was magic being used here to bolster each fighter for the fight. The strange alien looking woman had already used divine magic to bolster each of their fighter's fortitudes. He felt the power sooth his cold unfeeling flesh in a way only holy magic could as it toughened his body. He stood at the ready alongside the other fighters, taking a spear man stance with his shovel in place of an actual spear.

He was prepared to engage alongside the others when the enemy got into range. He could only hope that the apparent leader of these people, an old grizzled character not unlike many veterans back before the plague, had a battle plan more involved than just run at the enemy and hack until there's no more enemy. Without much forewarning a looming figure began to make it's presence known. A massive colossus was approaching at a leisurely pace. The shadow of the colossus was starting to grow across the field they were going to be fighting in. Behind his mysterious, unnerving mask the ends of Pravus's lips bent ever so slightly into a smirk.

Things are going to get interesting real soon.

Kaula stood at the start of the maze. As the rest of the participants darted ahead, Kaula stood still. She closed her eyes as smokey black shadows swirled about her body. She had switched from her usual slim black leather backless dress for a tight black sleeveless fighter's tunic, her Veerynian spinal choker still firmly attached to her back, and some fighter's slacks.

She no longer looked like the Princess of Vee-Ryn but a fighter. Which shocked her father when he saw her before the match.

"You look...." The Demon Lord eyed his daughter. "Strong?" Kaula hopped. "Different." He stated and Kaula for a small moment wanted to hear his pride for her but no. Nothing. She'd given him a second chance for a moment and he blew it.

"Do not fail." He said as her ride awaited her. Kaula shook her head. "I don't fail." She said and walked off, ignoring the ride waiting for her. She wanted nothing more from him.

She had made her waytoward the recruitment center and some people looked shocked to see a Veerynian woman here, women of Vee-Ryn rarely fought, they were housemaidens if anything, so they thought.

She stood in the longest of lines but waited patiently. Finally at her turn, she was asked to state her name. "Kaula Vee-Ryn, Of Vee-Ryn City."

Everyone around her looked shocked as the realization of the Demon Princess stood before them, most looked on in distain. Kaula held her head high regardless, she knew her plans here involved nothing but the downfall of her father's reign.

Nothing would stand in her way.


The Shadows swirled around. her, then formed three black copies of her. The three shadow copies darted away, each other taking different routes through the maze and each time one succumb to a trap or a dead end, it would disappear relaying the information back to Kaula, until Kaula was able to simply walk through the maze.

About midway, Kaula heard the intercom and looked up.

"All Participants, evacuate to your worlds, the event have been called off. I repeat, evacuate to your own worlds. We are under attack. For your own safety, please return home!"

Kaula watched the Rabbit girl at the microphone and frowned.

She was not going home.

Not when she was so close.

"We can handle everything here,step through the portals and leave this place!"

Kaula then saw them. The horde of Shadow creatures, marching, attacking everything and everyone. They weren't Veerynian, they wouldn't be foolish enough to interrupt the Princess. This was not her father's doing, and so she would have not a problem with destorying them all. Kaula's body disappeared in a cloud of smoke, and reappeared in the midst of a large army march. Chaos was sure to follow as they were coming closer. It was then she noticed a familar figure as she looked around. Her eyes widened as the memory struck her.

"River!"

The stones before her turned a pale yellow and for a moment she thought she’d solved the puzzle. She had been sure some of the bricks were false, hiding a passage. But it didn’t make sense, nothing she’d yet done should have worked.

She ran her small, furry fingers over them and they changed again, looking more solid, then less. Finally they shattered without a sound or debris, and she touched only open air. It was not just the wall before that vanished, there was no maze, no walls, only the other creatures brought for the test.

All looked confused, many expecting ambush, other ready to attack. The rabbit woman’s voice sounded out, asking them to leave as doors appeared. Tiotio turned over the idea that this was just another test, but the rabbit’s voice was that of a commander before a battle, not something to be doubted.

The only thing that waited Tiotio through those doors was a long trek across the world to end up just where she was now. She’d wanted to learn of the Nameless, and they were here, under attack.

The leaders stood ready for battle, and a wall of ice went up between them and the approaching enemy. Around her contestants chose, many vanishing into doors. Those that stayed looked determined.

The army descended from a hill, giving the Nameless a clear view of what they faced. The Nameless would have an advantage, time to set up defenses and prepare while the enemy closed the distance.

Tiotio located the leaders at the rear of the horde, a strategically smart position, but one that lacked bravado. Either the leaders did not care to inspire their troops, or their troops were not in need of inspiration. She wondered if the walking mountain had anything to do with the armies apparent confidence.

She leapt into the air, using her staff for leverage as she crossed the ground that once contained the maze, making her way toward the Nameless who readied for battle. She vaulted over the top of the rabbit woman’s head and reached her hand down, playfully slapping at her pointed ear. Her feet hit the ground before them and she pushed off one more time, leaping to the top of one of the huge spikes of ice.

Her toes gripped the tip of the spike, so cold one would not be able to hold it without the kind of training Tiotio had been through, training that allowed one to ignore physical pain when concentration was necessary.

The warriors spread before her were unfamiliar in build, but quite familiar in type. They moved like a pack of revon-rats - vicious jungle creatures that attacked in huge numbers, overwhelming their prey. Any one could be killed with ease, but together they could bring down animals twenty times their size.

They reeked of death, but moved with purpose like the living. If she wanted to fight them she could either fight them one on one, or take a more agile defense, doing little damage to each, but distracting them long enough to give others chance to strike them.

From the spike she had a clear view of the leaders, and in any other situation besides impending battle she would have leapt across the field to investigate them closely. They were as fascinating, if not more so, than those who lead the Nameless. You could learn a great deal about a man from his enemy, and so her curiosity about the Nameless might be satisfied in the company of these newcomers.

She spun to look at those below her, the rabbit woman with her strange staff, the seasoned warrior who’d watched them so intently in the maze, and many of the contestants, coming to their kidnapper’s aid. She had no loyalty to them, but, it would be easier to fight with the Nameless. They seemed, at least, to want to new fighters.

So she waited, when the warriors broke their way through the ice, she would drop into their midsts and keep the attention of as many of them as possible so the others could strike killing blows.

She ended up ditching the rabbit to follow River once she realized he had left. Moving surprisingly fast for an apparent human, she managed to find River... but she also found herself in the same mess as River. In her rush she hadn't heard the announcement and simply assumed this was part of the trial.

Having no emotions had its benefits as she wasn't afraid of the massive amount of er...just what the hell ARE those things? That didn't matter, what did matter was coming out of this half-alive. She giggled at the self depreciating pun and drew her Roukanken.

All the lessons her Master taught her went through her head as she readied herself. She stopped her breathing completely and focused on nothing but her enemy. Her grey eyes narrowed. Her grip tightened.

The world around her seemed to just fade away as nothing was left but her and the hoard of shadows. And then, much to the surprise and horror of the others... She rushed forward the enemy, strange magic caused her sword to glow with a white aura. Not knowing nor caring what will happen to her, She continued her advance.

Just like the time in the forest, she heard her master's voice once more, "Just worry about doing what you yourself want to do."

She thought about what the hoard could do if they defeated her and the others. The chaos...the tragedy... She dismissed those thoughts. She would never let that happen. What she herself wanted to do was defend those who cannot do so themselves.

"As long as there are things I must protect behind me.... I will stand firm again, and hundreds of times more!"

She said this before drawing her Hakuroken. She came to a stop, halfway between the oncoming hoard and everybody else. She didn't care what happened to her. She would do everything in her power to stop them so that nobody else will have to suffer the way she did. Taking up the special stance taught to her by Master Youki, she was ready for her final lesson... Death.

"Master... please guide my blade"

Time seemed to drag on as he walked through the maze that some cruel god had forsaken him to. What at first was extreme excitement quickly turned to regret, as it seemed no matter how many times Dan turned right he end up in the same spot. He contemplated changing his strategy, but he remembered the wise words of Chiara, "Right is the right way to go!" She was a reliable one that whore, shame she got murdered, also a shame for the murderer that Dan murdered him. Just as Dan began to think about just how it was he dispatched of that commoner that walls of the despicable maze began to dissipate and fade away into a yellow mist.

Orders to return to their own worlds were shouted by some adorable women with rabbit ears, Dan could have swore he recognized her, no matter. What was of importance was the appearance of large army of shadowy men, lumbering towards their location, people running past Dan towards the portals as the Rabbit women had told them to. However some also made their way to the side of what appeared to be the combatants of this army, offering whatever meager support they could muster up. "Well I suppose that wall of ice that just came out of no where is pretty helpful," Dan commented to himself as one of the meager supports showed some abilities that confused Dan a little bit.

Dan walked his way over to the allied army, he would have gladly gone back to his world where people COULDN'T create ice walls from no where, but unfortunately he did recall that he was fairly dead in that world. As he got in a line with a few other random people he avoided making eye contact with, Dan reached into the left breast pocket of his dress coat and yanked out the revolver he had left there. While he was by no means an expert marksman, most mobsters carried guns, and it proved helpful when he couldn't get close enough to others to use his fists or hat-sword. Dan grumbled loudly, "Who made this stupid ice wall, I want to engage in fisticuffs already! God damn it all," he decided to past the time by taking a cigarette he had in his right breast pocket and having a bit of it.

The Night Before

"KERES! KERES! KERES!"

"You crazy woman!"

"Marry me!"

"I don't accept marriage proposals on the first date," came the sultry reply. Keres had lifted her head from the spout of the whiskey barrel to speak and now the amber liquid dripped weakly from the hole. She was barraged by shouts and cries from the men in Wolf's Tavern from all sides, each ranging between drunk and vulgar.

The pale lady was well known in the area for being able to drink most men under the table. In fact, she was famous in just about any place that served alcohol. She spent much of her existence flittering from one tavern to another and the majority of her nights and some days in a different bed.

Strands of snow tumbled down her back like a veil of light, brushing the edges of the red symbols that swirled along her spine and curled over her wrists and ankles. Her pale chiffon robes were wisps of translucency upon her porcelain skin. She wondered if the patrons' hungry eyes were drawn to her ample chest.

Who was she kidding, of course they were.

Besides having the most perfect breasts in all the lands, she prided herself in being absolutely nut. Peanut brittle had nothing on her. She was very proud.

"Get another for the lady!" came a low hoot from the modest audience she had gathered around her.

"It's on me!"

It was a great era to be an attractive female.

She sat, cross-legged on a table, cradling a full barrel of whisky on her lap. She clutched it like a babe to its pillow, tilting her head back to allow the drink to stream down her throat and set her insides on fire. Keres felt warm, wild and invincible. The crowd chanted her name and she devoured the attention like a drowning man gasping air.

"You're beautiful," a random voice whispered in awe.

"Stop it. You'll ruin my ego," she said seriously before breaking into a grin and tossing him a wink that sent him melting through the floor boards. "It's already big enough."

She gave a cry of triumph that was not lost in the voices that cheered when she finished another barrel of delicious poison. She leapt from the table and landed silently on her feet. Her elegance was disrupted by a stumble and a near fall. She laughed as hands reached out to steady her, they were more than willing to graze their fingers across her smooth skin and silken hair, no doubt.

"Woah, the hell is that?" Keres asked, her dilated eyes widening as she pointed at what appeared to be a large rat's tail slithering from beneath the robes of a man who appeared to have a donkey's head. "Does it hurt to sit down?"

"You little bi-" the demon cried, throwing its arm back and clenching its fist coated in scales.

"Woah, don't wear brown armour if you have green scales, honey. It makes you look like a tree," she said, oblivious to the rage of the demon. As the rat tailed beast's fist came barreling down, her many saviours yelled in warning and moved to defend her. The beaming smile on Keres' face revealed a dimple in her right cheek as she easily stepped aside to avoid the large fist. "Silver or gold might work better, depending on whether you're Winter or Summer toned." An amethyst ball of fire sailed over her, narrowly missing her head as she ducked. "Hey, sorry if I tried to help."

"No fighting in the tavern!" Wolf, the owner, boomed in a deafening roar. "Sorry, Ker-bear," he added gently.

"We're not fighting," she mused, watching the donkey's furious expression. "Are we?" He huffed in reply but his fist loosened and slackened at his side.

"What's your name?" Keres asked.

"Sir Hilshire," he said with a puff of his chest and a flash of a medal.

"First name?" she asked sweetly.

"Unnecessary."

"Okay, Unnecessary Hilshire."

River looked around as others seemed to join the fray, a monkey woman even leaping onto his little forest and the young girl from earlier charging ahead and yelling something into the wind. He couldn't help but smile slightly, even as he staggered into an up right position and began to nearly trip over himself as he too shuffled into the fray, stopped by the calling of his name by a familiar demon he hadn't expected to see, his smile widened and he waved weakly
"Fancy seeing you here! It's been far too long, couple hundred years I believe, The catch up will have to wait! We have a horde of undead on our hands and not a lot of time, if we both make it out alive sign me up for a coffee and cake!" He half-joked as he stumbled past them quickly "I have no money, so you're paying!" He called over his shoulder teasingly as he carried on ahead. He could support in the back with his ice but to do that he needed energy, and the only place he was getting that was from the front-lines within the hordes of husks, and whilst the idea was idiotic and foolish in his current state. For an Incubus that was the only real option available to him other then siphoning the life away from his allies, a somewhat redundant and even more foolish idea considering he was attempting to help them.

By the time he had staggered to the first spine of ice, a flit of black caught his eye, leaving him to squint for a moment unsure whether or not he'd been seeing things until the dash of shadow appeared again. A lone husk sprinting through the spines ahead of the others with barely any equipment, it seemed to be a scout designed to test their capabilities and how jumpy they were, a sacrificial lamb and by the other flits and glimpses of black he saw from within the forest he was sure they had sent quite a few for that sole purpose. 'The husks may be smarter then they appear' he mused, pressing his back against the spine before weakly flinging his arm out as the husk sprinted towards him, his hand wrapping around its skull whilst his leg muscles pushed against the earth and in turn propelled the being into the ground barely hard enough to stun it for a moment. However it was all the time he required for in a second the Incubus was atop the husk, raising a fist and smashing it into the monsters face, black inky bloody splattering his hand and clothing as he raised his arm again this time pressing the limb against the things face.

River smirked, feeling the traces of a tormented soul flow into him, his veins sticking out through his skin and pumping the monstrosity's life force into his body, The Incubus's arm convulsing and the veins dancing along with the rich taste of energy until he finally released the husk. He could at least use some basic abilities and move around now, the husk's weren't exactly the most bountiful source he could have found but they would do until he could get something bigger. The Incubus raised a strong leg and smashed it down on the shriveled husks face, caving in the beings skull and splattering the same inky blood up his jean leg and leaving traces of the same blood on his cheeks which he quickly wiped away.

If this was their strength then they might just have a chance, or so he thought until he felt the first of the miasma touch the far off tree, the ground trembling with the rapid thumping of dozens of pairs of feet. The flits of black had turned into an all consuming wave of darkness, the scouts having already passed for the main force to determine their strength, the real battle was about to start and he thought back to his friend Rains words on a drunken night.

'Fighting is glorious, but war is simply a game of survival' and for the first time in his life, as the army neared the small force he would fight beside, he knew exactly what he had been talking about. Survival was the best they needed to hope for.

---

The Horde had arrived at The Nameless' front door step and The Officers strolled leisurely behind, all but one had not reached the spines yet, the disgusting twitchy rat having jumped and sprinted around until Apex finally allowed the rodent to go up ahead, his bells jingling in tune with his glee as he followed the army of husks. The rest would lag behind for now, they preferred more impressive and perhaps even honourable prey and Pestel and the black soldiers would more then likely be enough in their minds.

---

As the shenanigans continued on behind him, a lone man in strange attire sat in the corner a large wooden cane by his side and a stitched and battered top hat dropping over his head, the mid section kept in place by belts. The hat was black and contrasted well with his deep purple suit and wild long and dark hair, his glowing red eyes and strange mask giving him an aura of mystery and power, an aura that extended to the area around him that despite all of the noise and clattering was chillingly silent. Raw and completely withdrawn from the rest of the bar in all possible and even impossible forms. He wore black and purple striped sleeves under his suit that lead into white dress gloves, he was sharp crisp and clean and yet his suit was jagged and raw, something that sent a message of pure danger and wildness that retained a feeling of pure elegance and class. He defied all logic and was both calming and terrifying, wild yet tame but above all their was one thing he simply was.

Powerful.

He would make this known as he stood, walking quietly towards the woman who had created the scene after grabbing his cane, even the owner of the bar falling into silence and awe along with the rest of the inhabitants and no matter what had been said nothing was heard, no noise penetrated the silence that deafened except for the maddening echoe of the cane and it's tapping. A thump that grew into a roar that like a wave crested and then broke over the walls of the tavern washing it into ever deeper and deafening madness. Until the tapping stopped, the patrons too stunned to think, to react as the purple suited man stood before the woman they all slobbered and sought for, his red eyes gleamed out from under his low drawn hat and his cowl covered the heavy bronze breathing mask that attached to his jaw, aside from the jutting and shining side pieces that glinted the surrounding light into the eyes of those who dared to stare.

The man raised his cane once more and placed both hands upon it, tapping it into the ground as the entire world turned white and the rest of the patrons, the bar, the alcohol and all of the world around them faded into emptiness. Nothing remained except for the man and the tattooed woman as he smiled devilishly beneath the mask, his cowl slipping and falling from his jowl to reveal the apparatus as his shadow began to unnaturally draw out behind him without a single source of light visible, an eerie wind blowing his coat-tails behind him despite the lack of air movement elsewhere.

---

---

"You and I have business my dear, business of great importance. Now if you'd kindly take a seat?" He said in a devilish tone, a deep and rumbling voice that carried a tone of class and undeniable authority, he was not a man to be denied. A small bar table and two chairs materialized in the emptiness between them and he placed his cane resting against it and took a seat of his own.

"I know of your transgressions and current standing within your little group and I have something that could make things more...interesting, how do you feel about helping me with a little game I intend to play. It requires manipulation, sleaze and getting away with elaborate spying, something I'm sure you are familiar with. You will keep me informed on your group and I will send you orders on varying days in a manner of my choosing, anywhere, anytime and you will perform the deed I require to assist The Nameless, in a manner that benefits us both of course. For your services, you will be able to enjoy such things and of course." He stated before pausing briefly and reaching below the table, for show of course, and bringing up a large brief-case filled to the brim with coin of all kinds "I will be more then happy to pay you for your services, everything you require and whatever you may request can be organized, however the greater the gift I bestow upon you the greater the return I expect, do you understand?" He stated finally, pushing the case across the table and templing his fingers together as he awaited her answer with a sinister smile concealed beneath his mask, today was the beginning of a great undertaking.

---

What in the Gardens was so interesting that it would cause perfectly heterosexual men to turn away from her?

"Okay, she better be hot or else-" her jaw fell mid sentence. She spun around and widened her eyes in a futile attempt to let in more light so she could improve her failing vision. Was she seeing what she thought she was seeing? "What the hell?"

"You and I have business my dear, business of great importance. Now if you'd kindly take a seat?"

Keres did not take a seat. Who did Mad Hatter think he was? Bossing her around? Making the world disappear? Woah, where did everyone go?

"Wow, I am really, really drunk," she muttered, taking a seat.

"I know of your transgressions and current standing within your little group and I have something that could make things more...interesting, how do you feel about helping me with a little game I intend to play. It requires manipulation, sleaze and getting away with elaborate spying, something I'm sure you are familiar with." Bla bla bla bla bla... "...group and I will send you orders on varying days in a manner of my choosing, anywhere, anytime and you will perform the deed I require to assist The Nameless, in a manner that benefits us both of course. For your services, you will be able to enjoy such things and of course."

"Oh... Oh, you're done?" she exhaled with a deep yawn and an exaggerated stretch of her slim body. She got to her feet and with her fists planted on her full hips, she slid her gaze along his long, lean frame with a curious tilt of her head. "Listen, eggplant," she began. I have no idea who you think you are but-""

He pulled out a briefcase of gold.

Well, that would certainly shut her up. There it was, the one thing in the world she loved almost as much as herself: money. She wasn't greedy, contrary to what so many believed. She wasn't even a gold digger. Ew, why would she get her hands all muddy digging for a few flecks of gold? That's what her harem was for, digging for gold and penetrating... You know. The point was, though, everyone was innately motivated by greed, fear and laziness. She was just one of the rare gems of honest beings.

"I will be more then happy to pay you for your services, everything you require and whatever you may request can be organized, however the greater the gift I bestow upon you the greater the return I expect, do you understand?"

"Umm... No?" Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Could you just get rid of your dopplegangers and stay still?" She squinted at Mad Hatter and then at his briefcase of gold. She was seeing three of everything and now everything was swaying. She reached out to hold the world still but met the rock hard abs of Mad Hatter instead.

"Hot dayumn, boy."

Keres got to her feet, which was no small feat. Luckily, she had a solid slab of man to drape herself all over and hold onto. She beamed her dimples at him and batted her thick eyelashes, her crimson eyes sparkling like rubies around her expanding pupils. Keres made sure to add a little bump and grind in there too.

"It really depends," she purred, referring to what he'd proposed. "Do you come with that pot of gold?" she asked with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.

Abruptly, Keres threw her head back and laughed, slapping Mad Hatter on the chest with one hand and tossing back the bottle of liqueur with her other. Her head was tilted, exposing her vulnerable throat, as she drank. She dropped her head and tapped Mad Hatter's chest with the glass bottle, her speech, finally, slurring, after approximately over half a dozen barrels of whisky.

"Tell me," she said before a hiccup interrupted her speech. "Tell me," hiccup, "Tell me," hiccup, "Ah, apocalypse curse it," hiccup, "You're so hot. I bet you think you're hot, don't you? You think you're so irresistible and all the ladies want to have your creepy hat babies. Imagine," hiccup, "Imagine if they give birth to little baby hats. Like, not babies with hats. But, like, hats. Just hats."

She stumbled back after draining her bottle of what liquid remained, waving the empty container at the man before her.

"You think I can be bribed?" she yelled slowly. "Okay, yeah I can," she mumbled with a nod of her head, as if to herself, before attempting to drink from the bottle only to find it void of substance. "Apocalypse it!" she cursed. "Okay, okay, I can be bribed. But Apex is insane. The man is crazy. Like, you see this wrinkly old man run naked through the streets shouting 'I'm the Princess of Farm Animals!!!' and you're like, wow, okay, he's kind of nuts. Then you get this eggplant," she said with a gesture towards Mad Hatter. "Who erases the world and asks you to risk your beautiful neck for a few pretty pieces of gold she could totally get from sleeping with some King somewhere. Who do you think I am? I am Keres Leventis, Princess of Farm Animals!!!" She shook her head and smiled. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Keres, you are so funny.

"So how about you tell me who you are," she said, seeming to sober up. "Why you want all this information," she added. "Why you want it from me, and why I should help you."

Aera was seemingly over her head. If it weren't for the fact her ghost half can make relatively weak copies of her, she'd be still alive yes, but in a worse position. Each copy had roughly the same strength as a husk, more or less anyway. Her arms tired, she was bleeding badly but she continued on, determined to at least lessen the number of husks and thus lessen the damage they caused.


To the naked eye, it seemed as if it was only her, surrounded by husks. However, to those who can sense or see spirits... They would see that the girl wasn't alone. 6 ghostly copies of the girl fought beside her. 6 was all Aera could control as she needed the remainder of her strength to fight. Her, her other half, and the 6 copies cut-off the second half of the hoard of husks. This was to buy as much time as possible for the others below. She wanted to hold back some of the oposing forces to allow them to recuperate, for the real enemy drew near.

Thoughts of self doubt began to cloud her mind as she fought her losing battle. Thoughts of being incapable of accomplishing her goal. Thoughts of letting everybody down because she was too weak. Her cut was no longer clean, but jagged as she became distracted by fear and doubt.

"Why...Why am I fighting such a losing battle? I had the chance to flee but I didn't...I thought I could be of some use... But I have barely done anything useful. Their number hasn't decreased at all and there is still more of them. I'm a failure.... I have shamed you Master...for this is a battle which I cannot win..."

"Maybe, but don't you realize those are the only kind worth fighting for? However, you will only lose to your enemy if you first lose to yourself. Your determination, your will, and most importantly, those who you are fighting for. Those are what will allow you to prevail, losing battle or not. As long as you keep in mind who it is you are fighting to protect and why it is you are doing so for them, then nothing can stand in your way."

Those were the last words her Master ever spoke to her before his disappearance. That's it! That was the lesson he left her to learn! He never left because she wasn't good enough, he left because he had nothing more to teach her. His final lesson was to overcome the self-doubt within herself.

Aera smiled at the realization. She was no longer tired, no longer in pain, no longer in doubt. She gripped her swords tightly and fought with newly found determination. Her copies were destroyed but herself and other half continued to fight. Whereas before they had barely put a dent in the population of the husks, their number was now dwindling fast. (Her half anyway)

It felt as though her Master was there, by her side. She felt stronger and more confident. She ignored all pain and injury, there was still a knife in her lower left leg from a while ago but she remained oblivious to it. The only thing that mattered to her was defeating the current enemy.

Her energy was waning from sustaining large amounts of damage, losing plenty of blood and nearly exhausting her life force by summoning those copies. Some husks managed to get by her but those which did not were no more. After defeating as many husks as she could, she did not rest. Instead she prepared to fight the officers which were slowly making their way to her position. Knowing she would probably not make it out alive she went to go make the first strike but passed out from fatigue and blood loss. Her swords clattered to the ground and her blood stained the soil and mixed with the blood of the husks. Everything had just gone black. Panicking that its physical body had just collapsed and was no longer conscious, the ghostly half of Aera was desperately trying to put up a barrier to protect its body and itself but to no avail.

All hope had seemed lost as her body lay un-moving and face down in the dirt, at the mercy of whoever found her body.

"Fancy seeing you here! It's been far too long, couple hundred years I believe, The catch up will have to wait! We have a horde of undead on our hands and not a lot of time, if we both make it out alive sign me up for a coffee and cake!" River said after a meek wave. Kaula rushed over to his side. " I have no money, so you're paying." He said moving ahead. " You are still as impossible as ever, River, Must you jest." She said and soon, the undead creatures were upon them.

Kaula watched as they used abilities similar to hers. She smirked.

"Amateurs..." She sneered and disappeared in a plump of smoke. She then reappeared behind one of the creatures, sent a sharpened shadow tendrils through it's back and then in the same fluid motion, she sliced it's head clean off. She looked around for more to as she took a stance beside River. So far, he was the only person she knew and mildy trusted, maybe if she stuck close enough, he could lead her to the Nameless and subsequently Aizen.

(Sorry it's so short ._.)

Pravus stood firm as the forces engaged the Nameless's line. These shadow beings wear armor, carry shields. They care about whether they live or die, if only to kill more later or perhaps they may actually value their own lives I cannot tell. All that matters is that they do. Perhaps, just maybe, I can get the upper hand if not through strength then through superior technique and tactics. His mind raced, plotting his strategy for the eminent clash.

His attention was drawn by a particular swordswoman who rushed past the front line and stood against the masses of unnatural barbarians. Her bravery could not be faulted, even if it was ill advised. What drew his attention more than anything else however was her spirit. Her spirit lived separate from her body and yet both operated fine apart yet tethered somehow. Using her own energy she spawned six ghostly copies of herself, an interesting application of such strange spiritual magic. As she engaged her foes however his concern was ripped away by his attackers efforts.

He took a step back, just out of range of a wild thrust from one of these strange shadow warrior's longsword. Using his attackers wild rush against him he thrust the head of his shovel forth, piercing through it's throat all the way to it's spine. His foe could only stagger back and fall, gurgling black ichor from the wide slice taken out of it's neck. As the ones behind it were halted by the collapsing body of one of their friends he took that time to take out the enemies engaging the rag-tag crew of entities for which he was fighting for, specifically the one's directly next to him. Their armor is minimal. They wear leather to guard their torso's and helms to shield their skulls but their arms, their legs and their necks are wide open. I need not kill my enemies when it is faster to cripple them for others to finish off. He planned it all out. He swung his shovel in two exaggerated sweeping cuts in the form of an X, chopping directly through two legs leaving only one leg for each of the two shadows. They collapsed to the ground like trees felled by an axe, struggling to try and continue fighting from their prone positions only to be easily dispatched by his fellow Nameless.


Now his enemies were struggling to reach him over the bodies of their fallen comrades. The time it was taking them to try and pass without tripping or getting their feet caught on something was more than long enough for him to cut them down, adding another body to what was quickly becoming an effective barrier from the direction his foes were charging him from. As the chaos of the combat broiled on he noticed the significant effort of the blade wielding girl as she held off a large portion of the attacking force, diverting them from the main assault. As she fought on though the fatigue of combat was beginning to show quite clearly in her technique. Her cuts started to become sloppy, her stance wavering. Towards the later portion of her battle she made one last ditch effort, showing a modicum of skill return as she finally cut through the majority of her opposition. At long last however she ran ahead only to collapse. She and her spirit companion were left to the mercy of the battlefield.

He would not normally abandon a strong position to rescue a soldier who in their own right deserved to die for their foolishness but she was a unique case. In all his life there were very few people who could actually interact with spirits like he could and the people who could often used dubious magic to accomplish such feats. Whether or not she accomplished this bizarre symbiotic condition with her own spirit with spiritual magic was a question he would need to ask later. All he could do now was go and defend her incapacitated body for her spirit. It was not the wisest tactic in such harrowing times but he felt it would be tragic to let such a rare development simply die in the field of battle along with the rest of them.


Disengaging from the wall of oncoming shadows he sprinted around the line, coming to the swordwoman's aid with great haste. He arrived just in time as five shadow warrior's had strayed from the main body, a couple after him and the others out to finish off the girl. He noticed that one of his pursuers was somewhat faster than the other, a detail he could take advantage of. In a fluid sweeping motion Pravus swung his shovel in a full circle around him, taking the first warrior off guard as it is difficult to keep one's defense up at a full sprint. The shovel decapitated the first warrior without pause. He stepped back, watching to see what the other pursuing shadow would do. In a rather aerial display the second warrior used the body as a ramp, jumping off of it into the air in an attempt to come down Pravus blade first.

Flashy but ultimately doomed. Pravus stabbed his shovel upwards into the falling shadow, stabbing into it's guts. Before it's momentum was finished however he used the speed of the warrior's jump, pushing it's body along a set path using his shovel and guided it's trajectory directly into the group of three shadows just ahead of him. The body collapsed upon them just as they were about to drive their sword down into the swordswoman's body, knocking the three down and trapping them temporarily beneath their fallen brethren. After that all Pravus had left to do there was quickly walk about them, decapitating each one with a swift chop of his shovel.

With that business out of the way he approached the fallen body of the swordswoman and the spirit guarding her however it could. He couldn't help her right now while the battle was still in full motion, he would only get attacked as he tried to patch her wounds. The only thing he could do was to move her body out of the way before rejoining the ranks of Nameless once again. There was the matter of her spirit protector first. He would not wish to upset it by taking it's body away without it's consent. He was about to speak to it when he caught a glance of what this young swordswoman was trying for. While the rest of this armies leaders strode leisurely onto the battle field there was one that was joining into the back ranks of the shadow army, quickly trying to makes it's way forward.


This creature was a most repugnant beast indeed. It's state of appearance told well enough about it but he could see beyond the simple visage of a plagued rat. The black finger marks of disease coated it's body like war paint, similar to the touch of the evil spirits which ended his world. This being was something that in Pravus's eyes should not be. The fact that a living being would willingly spread plagues to others out of malice or worse, enjoyment, filled his heart with an anger he didn't even know he could possess. The fact this sick perversion of nature still drew breath infuriated him.

Despite the plague rat's presence he still had the body with the strange spirit to attend to. He was torn, divided between his desire to end the rat's life and bury it's lifeless corpse so that it may hurt no one anymore and his duty to attend to the needs of the spirits. He was caught, trapped between desire and responsibility. It was an agonizing choice as choosing either option would lead to a biting, unfulfilled anger. In the end, he could only choose one.

He chose his duty over his hatred. No matter how horrible a creature that rat may be it would not tempt him to forsake a spirit in need. He turned back to the fallen swordswoman's spirit, looking straight into it's eyes through the cold glass lenses in his mask. "Spirit, I ask you this. May I move this body of yours into safety?" His deep, stern voice echoed in his mask. Though muffled slightly by his long beaked mask the meaning of his words came through clearly.

Ivan looked on as some of the other contestants rushed towards the army of shades, none really stood out. But two of the contestants caught his eye, one undead warrior armed with a shovel and a young female swordfighter. The undead man in his victorian style plague doctor suit stood out to him for quite obvious reasons, after those decades of hunting down the undead he could recognise them in the pitch black sewers of Thylysium, it wasn't realy an art merely as case of following ones nose and ones instincts when you have been around them for so long. The swordfighters courage and skill, not to mention her shadow images, are what made her catch Ivans eye. At least it meant there were more on the battlefield, enough to turn this uphill battle into their favor. He too now made his way forward towards the army of husks.

In the distance he saw the girl fall to the ground amidst the husks. "Foolishness and arrogance will take those who forget the existance of their limits." He thought, it was a thruth that was often mentioned in books and scrolls. It perhaps would have been no more than normal for her to die right there and then. But no, the undead he spotted earlier was making his way towards her, fending off the husks as they tried to go in for a killing blow. Now there was a chance to save her. Perhaps it was because in all those years he never really saved anyone, just putting down those who were beyond saving, or perhaps the oath, but he knew he had to help her and her undead saviour to get out of there safely.

As Ivan ran towards the two as fast as his legs could carry, he noticed the ratlike creature make it's way towards them too. The undead man seemed to have had some form of combat training, at least as far as he could tell from how he handled the husks, but both saving that girl and keeping that rat away would most likely be impossible alone. Hoping for the best he trew a large fireball at the husks beyond the undead, the girl and the rat. The fireball exploded upon impact with one of the husks faces, taking it, the surrounding husks and a small bit of the earth underneath the husk out with the blast. At the very least it would deter any other husks from getting close, he reasoned as he looked at the blast.

As he came close to the undead man and the girl he could take a better look at the rat. It's disease ridden body reminded him of the vile abominations often found in the sewers, only thing that really set them appart was the hairy body and perhaps the tail. He saw the undead man head for the girl trying to resque her after some hessitation on what to do. Perhaps it had been better for him if the undead man had taken up the fight to the rat. Unlike Ivan the undead man probably wasn't suseptable to dissease. He ran and took his position between the undead man and the rat, spraying flames in the general direction of the rat. With his one free hand he took his dyed ribbon and wrapped it around his mouth and nose. "Get her out of here, I'll cover your retreat!" Ivan yelled at the undead man, as he kept the stream of flames aimed at the rat. Fire and heat are perfect for dealing with dissease, it would also prevent the rat from closing in with that mace without burning alive.

The masked man barely reacted to any of it, waiting for her rambling to eventually stop and for her to sober up and realize her situation. To ask the right questions, and finally she did after becoming uncomfortably close to him and so he was finally able to speak.

"The Who does not concern you, You may call me...Apocalys. As for why I want the information and why I want it from you in particular. You have the connections I require and the skills I need, of course you also have the perfect set of...morals, for the job. As for why you should help me I'll make it simple." He stated, vanishing into a black cloud and re-appearing in the seat on the opposite end of the table "I can give you anything you want, anything you desire, and all for doing what you already do. If that's not enough then I can offer you an extra prize for you to claim yourself, someone or perhaps even, something." He said with a light click of his tongue beneath the mask, grinning ever wider as he continued with the deal.

The table in front of him rippled, pushing the case slightly as the center began to bubble until a small black orb sprung forth, reflecting the emptiness and the pair in its shining surface. The material slowly hazed until finally an image appeared, a glimpse of things to come. An attractive and strangely familiar man pressed against an ice spine, his shardic wings twitching and his fiery red hair blowing in the breeze to waft over his determined golden eyes, eyes that held a soft center and a certain warmth. However the image was betrayed as the soft and calm man, lashed out at a black monster, its blood splattering his clothing and its life-force draining into the mans body in gruesome detail before he literally stomped out whatever un-life it had. The calmness returned and the warmth along with it, he was the flip of the coin that landed on its side, both sides exposed for the world to see.

"River, he is an Incubus and one of the many new recruits of The Nameless. I'd like you to keep him immersed and distracted, he is nothing special however I believe Apex would appreciate not having to deal with his kind, and River himself would benefit from not focusing upon the cruel wolf." He stated, assuming she wasn't listening properly he was going to make sure he got his point across. The man stood from his seat and brought up a hand, his red eyes glowing fiercely as he tore the mask from his face to reveal his razor-sharp teeth spread in a Cheshire grin, the white emptiness replaced by a cold and foreboding storm that seemed to stretch across eternity.

"In short, I'd like you to conquer him, make him your puppet." His droning and horrifying voice called, without the mask his voice seemed to reach every corner of the soul, planting its seed of fear and sending chills through every corner of a being. A million whispers of tortured and corrupted souls echoing with every sound that exited his invisible lips, his sharp teeth the only thing visible aside from his eyes and perfectly matching to the biting feel that accompanied the rest.

"If you accept my offer, be here at the exact time specified. I will show you the true art of manipulation." He called once more, turning abruptly and pushing the mask back onto his face as he simply began to move away and fade into the whiteness. A parchment appeared on the table and a heavy tavern door thumped into existence behind Keres, the choice was hers.

---

---

The parchment showed a simple picture of The Nameless wastes, spires of ice and a blot of black shadows assaulting a row of defending beings. In the distance she would see her own comrades and at the front of the ice spires Pestel could be seen spreading disease to the already ruined land. Underneath the picture was printed a simple instruction for her timed entrance "Arrive at the moment they appear the weakest." it instructed, Apocalys loved speaking in riddles it seemed.

---

The Night Before

It was true, then, the more attractive someone was, the more insane they were. She gawked at the spot her intruder had stood moments before, even as the tavern emerged from the darkness and flooded her senses with shouts and the clashing of beer mugs. It was as if the conversation had never happened and time had not stopped. Keres very nearly believed it, until she turned around to find the inky sprawl of instructions on a piece of smooth parchment.

There was nothing quite like realising the world was crazier than you were.

The man, no, creature was not Mad Hatter at all but the Cheshire cat. If she were not so utterly intoxicated, she might've quaked with fear and fainted. She wish she'd fainted, her body felt as if it were made of lead and her skull filled with nails and daggers. Having been in the business of deception and trade for so long, she knew that beneath his lavish offers of gold and wishes was a violent threat. After all, every castle had its pillars.

Gold eyes bore into her mind through a mess of crimson hair so like her own irises. He was stunning, no doubt, but his brutality and the way Apex's creatures had betrayed their life to him, frightening if she'd been anybody else. Of course her assignment would be to deceive the monster, such was her luck, after all. Indeed Keres should've been named Keres the Cursed, rather than Keres the Desired. Her parents had been right, after all, in naming her after the Greek spirits of death. She had to admit, however, that the task, cursed as it may be, intrigued her, or rather, the red haired Incubus did. It would be a challenge to outplay a Sex God at his own game. She had never been with an Incubus before and this would tick another creature off her list. She would prove to herself that she was the greatest of all liars to have ever lived.

Keres grasped the edges of the parchment with slim fingers, gently, as to not leave so much as a dent or a smudge on the paper. Then she closed her eyes, and with a sigh, ripped the thing to pieces.

---

---

The Present

They were determined, if nothing else.

Pestel stumbled through the fields of ice and bodies, seeking his dinner in a buffet of delicious, powerful recruits. He destroyed everything in his path, leaving nothing untouched. The path behind him lay in ruin and still he charged, flinging his garbage aside as if he believed he were a princess ballerina in need of a twirl to spread his glitter. Pestel was nuts, unreasonable and the most disgusting creature she'd ever laid eyes on, but still he was wholly entertaining to watch, she would give him that. Keres wondered what the Nameless contenders would think if they realised he was only playing halfheartedly.

Husks fell in bloody heaps but still more came in waves that crashed through the havoc like an oil spill. Pravus the Grave Tender and Ivan Witherbane crouched over the frail swords woman, Aera Kirishima, protecting her. She'd done her research for Apex Flood, her guild master, and now for Apocalyse, the creepy talking object who forgot the P in his name. Connections and knowledge of everyone was her specialty, after all. Now she watched her guild's army of husks attack the meagre number of unprepared and mismatched Nameless recruits. If this was all Aizen could find, it was no wonder the majority of her entourage hadn't even bothered to show up. They most likely found this lot unworthy and Keres was hard pressed to disagree. Yet one never knew, it was the underestimated who most often surprised you.

She crouched atop the ice spires, the bend and crooks of the criss-crossing structures shielding her from view. Much of her attention was devoted to the fury of crimson gold that moved almost too quickly for her human eyes to follow, enhanced or otherwise. He was a force to be reckoned with, his power great, his thirst for blood strong and his eyes wild. Having been watching him for some time and gathered whatever she could, she knew he was astoundingly charming as well as brutal. A small smile flirted the corners of her lips. Her conquering of the Incubus would be fun indeed.

Keres spared the horizon a glance. Apex stood not far from the battle - or massacre, more like it - she was sure. She'd proposed to him her assimilation into the Nameless shortly after her meeting with the Mad Cheshire. He'd frowned when she'd suggested feigning innocence and a lack of affiliation with his crew so that she may earn the trust and know the secrets of the Nameless. He'd merely stared at her in the unhappy way he did, frowning as he always seemed to do, and then he'd bobbed his head, a nearly imperceptible nod. She would've mixed it had she not been so attuned to every flutter of his eyelash and twitch of his finger. It was vital to stay alert and aware when one worked for a tyrant and was the only mortal human in the company of psychotic demons and slabs of heartless metal.

She hovered now near River and with a minuscule shift in her careful stance, let the wind to brush its fingers across her silver hair and allow for a mere glimpse of it. She released her suffocating grasp on the magic that pulled demons toward her like moths to a flame and sighed as the shivering pain dulled to a throbbing ache. Her skull pulsed with the migraine she'd received from withholding the power of the elves' and at once she was visible. No, not just visible, brilliant. She was a pulsing beacon, a supernova, for the inhuman.

The husks nearest to her spun around immediately, charging at her with a fervour triple that of what they devoted to their true enemies. She inhaled a deep breath and allowed for their slick grips to pull at her limbs. It was easier than she would admit to allow her body to slacken so that they could do what they may. They her pulled down from the ice spires, their movements jerky and desperate. Their lack of will made them weak to her magnetism and they craved her like lungs did air.

Keres spared River a glance and for a billionth of a blink, her blood red irises and his of molten gold, met, and then the pools of darkness burrowed into her skin and Keres released an ear-splitting scream.

It was all too exciting. The flurry of battle and the dedication of the warriors. Tiotio’s plan to join the fight vanished from her mind as she was consumed with the scene before her. The ghost girl’s sword cut down more of the enemy than should be possible for such a small thing, and the beak mask made a mound of those he felled.

She had never seen fighting on this scale. She had fought, and killed, but almost always alone, always against handful of opponents. The organic flow of the battle hypnotized her into a meditative state. The battle was a living being, made up of individuals who could not see their part in the whole. The enemy leaders stood back, not fighting, but as much a part of the fight as any, ready to strike forward. Only the diseased rat joined his troops, disturbing his own men in his fervor to clash with the Nameless.

When the ghost girl fell Tiotio’s trance ended. That had been one of her presumptive allies. The girl had been fighting to protect Tiotio as much as anyone, and now she was fallen.

She leapt high in the air, off the ice spikes and down into the fray. The first soldier she landed on was too startled to put up a defence, and she thrust her bo down, driving him to the ground. She hopped off and brought the bo around, striking at the neck. She knew he was dead by the satisfying crunch of bones breaking. Her bo, now covered in a blackish-red pulp swung and struck as she leapt through the soldiers, dealing no more killing blows, but crippling legs and arms.

The blast of heat that shot out from one of the recruits singed her left arm, the arm that still bleed from the dwarf’s acid. The rat shrunk back from the fire, but it’s jaws were still split in a wide grin, drool and vile liquid dripping from lip and fange.

“Put the fire down!” She screamed, not bothering to see if the man responded as she leapt in the air.

She pulled a vial of the dwarf’s acid from her sack and landed on the rat’s shoulders, willing her feet to stay planted on such a grotesque form. She thrust the vial into one bulbous eye and slammed the bo down after it.

She used the force of her attack to propel herself away and land back on the ground.

A light, or a fire, maybe another magic door, shone so bright it distracted all, and heads turned to the forest of ice. It was a woman, and the enemy flocked to her, ignoring the battle. A scream rang out, not pain, or anger, so loud it made the cacophony of battle seem a quiet whisper.

Pestel

---

Pestel had been happily spreading his plague, dancing about and chittering with glee at all the new things to corrupt. Until someone started trying to roast him alive, he was not happy with being rat stew and before he could swear profoundly at the attacker a Monkey Woman! landed on his shoulder and threw acid into his eye with a big stick, Pestel was anything but happy! Luckily for him he had tricks of his own and a gleeful grin returned to his disgusting features, his clothes had been charred and burnt but the fire had stopped and simply revealed his mottled and even more disturbing skin beneath the items of clothing.

He had received no damage from the acid, nor the bo, nor the flames. Most would assume that the great golem or the man in armour were the hardest to kill but they were always wrong, he thought of himself as Rumpelstiltskin, nobody could guess his name in a thousand years. Pestel was the king of resistance!, his body weathered and scarred and disease ridden to the point of making him immune to all but few attacks. The flames had diverted around him at the call of various gases to repel the magical burn, the acid simply dripped harmlessly through his fur and cleansed from his eye by the rub of a grotesque furry paw that left behind smudges of green and black sludge around the rims of his source of vision.

The Plague rat jumped excitedly from one foot to the other and stuck his tongue out from between what few gnawing and holed teeth remained in his maw. Bells jingled loudly to announce his excitement and no doubt the other officers were cringing and sighing as the announcement reached them, Pestel finally stopped jigging for a split moment and raised his large glowing mace up in front of him with a grin, a sudden flux of gases tearing off what remained of his clothing and leaving behind only the fur, his chest shown to be covered in parasites, fungi, and bugs of all kind.

"Ba-Boom!" He squealed with glee, The latter rushing forth in swarms of thousands at his beck and call creating a torrent of plague carrying minions that burst towards his enemy not in a dissimilar pattern to his opponents flaming attack, a smell akin to petroleum gas hung atop the insects combined with the scent of death wafting from their master and themselves. Those insects who could not fly into the torrential storm of pestilence swarmed the ground and trudged along in an organized way not unlike the perfect army. Soldiers sorted into ranks and divisions and placed into groups of twenty or so.

Meanwhile the Rat stood in the background and hopped around from foot to foot, dancing, twirling and waving his mace like a conductors tool to direct his attack with ruthless and yet insane efficiency. He hummed a tune to himself as he danced and twirled, flicking sludge and disease across the surrounding area while he enjoyed his little show.

River had barely regained his powers and taken a proper step forward with Kaula by his side before he turned and saw the hordes moving towards a singular girl who had appeared, she was confusingly beautiful and graceful even as the husks descended upon her. His eyes met hers for a moment and then, she screamed, and he was snapped out of the spell and his eyes dialated. His heart thumping against his rib cage and his wings bending upwards before slamming down again, propelling him from the ground into a rush towards the shadows that dared to harm someone in front of his eyes. His elbow collided with the spine of the closest and his palm reached to its back to find what he had missed moments before, they were all wet and filled with moisture, something he could use to his advantage.

His palm glowed a brilliant pale blue and all the water droplets that found their way in and around the husks bodies solidified into a core of ice, before growing with a sudden snap that left the crowd around the woman collapsing to the ground, dozens of spikes and spines piercing their flesh like an acupuncturist had gone mad with their needles. He raised his boot and stomped out the head of the first he had made contact with, the only one that still twitched despite being the first he impacted with. The rest may have lived he was unsure but if they bled then they would die, if not then they could not move and he was satisfied with that.

"Kaula you should head back and find the others, The Black Rabbit lady and the rest of The Nameless or whoever are probably only just making their way into the hordes to keep the innocents safe, I'll take care of things here." He stated firmly before taking a step towards the suddenly appearing woman.

River pulled his jacket off from around him to be rid of some of the blood, hanging it casually on a nearby ice spike. His rippling muscles and near perfect body far more obvious without the loose jacket hung around his shoulders, the removal of clothing a flowing action that brushed his hair from his eyes, it was unfortunate but the quickest way to move this glorious woman was to utilize his birth right. The Incubus's lavishing gold eyes laid themselves upon the rescue e and began to spiral and eventually settled again as stark brilliant blue diamonds, contrasting perfectly with his fiery red hair and the charming white toothed smile that followed. An aura spread from him that would infatuate most weaker minds and distract those who were stronger willed, something akin to pheromones that made people he chose to receive them simply, Want him.

The Incubus opened his mouth and a soft and charming purr of a voice flowed forth from his perfect lips. "What is your name my dear? Will you come with me?" He said, reaching a soft hand forward and allowing it to lightly caress her face despite the circumstances, his wings began to resemble an angels more then a demons and flowed out behind him like arms that invited her into them, promising to take her from this place.

It would seem he intended come back to fight once she was safe, or perhaps he too felt an attraction towards her.

"Y-You are on my s-side? T-Thank you mister, my name is Myon. I am Mistress Aera's soul. I do not think I could have defended Mistress Aera by myself. I-I was afraid at first as you give off the same aura as them. Please assist Mistress. I'm incapable of lifting her. If you find yourself in danger, don't play hero though, just put Mistress down and save yourself. It isn't the first time she and I have died in battle. Hm? HYAAA! A-A RAT!?"

The spirit by the name of Myon spoke in a kind manner and was pleased and relieved that somebody came to help her and Aera. She smiled and talked before seeing the rat and giving such a shrill scream that would put a Banshee's to shame. Myon, apparently, is quite different from her Mistress. She is deathly scared of rats, is very girly, and above all, she is kind and never lies.

On the other hand, she is very weak in comparison but she is the magic half of the pair so it only makes sense. If the physical body (Aera) loses consciousness then Myon can still be active. However, if Myon passes out... so does Aera.

Going back to the rat... Myon began hiding behind the shovel-wielding warrior in fear of the rat. Unlike the copies she can create, Myon can touch other solid matter with the exception of her Mistress. Her Mistress can touch her though. Myon clung to the shoulders of the warrior practically begging him to hurry along.

So this was an Incubus.

Her pale hand stilled midair as she abruptly realised she'd been unwillingly reaching out towards him. His irises of molten gold swirled and pooled in a brilliant sapphire that complimented well the with the wings stretched behind him. He was unnervingly perfect and had he been in the human realms, he would be hailed an Adonis and even that did not do him justice. She fought not to trace her fingertip along the subtle tint of his lower lip and fought even harder not to replace her would be finger with her own crimson lips.

Instead she stared, ruby orbs round and wide, lips parted in a scream that stilled the moment he grasped her in his arms. She stared, because she liked what was beautiful, and she decided a long time ago not to deprive herself of the simple pleasures of life.

"What is your name my dear? Will you come with me?" he asked, his voice low like a wave brushing sand on a beach. It was raspy and smooth as velvet all the same. It was impossible, it was mesmerising and it slid beneath her skin unbeknownst. Before she knew it, the ocean in his eyes and voice encompassed her. She was drowning and she realised in that moment that she didn't need air.

"Keres," she breathed as one might pronounce 'caress' and for the first time in her life, her name was a beautiful melody and a warm touch like River's caress where it had always been a bitter reminder of a family who abandoned her.

The long curtain of lashes that framed her crimson eyes tickled gently River's palm that rested against her cheek bones as she blinked. Her creamy skin looked to be carved of the pearls found in oceans but they were soft and flawless in a way no human's skin was. She felt the all encompassing tingle in their touch, her every particle urging River to come closer and have a taste. They were magnets, their energies struggling to entwine into one and warring with one another all the same. His urging her to drop her guard, hers pulling him to drop his.

Keres tilted her head back to graze his cheek with her full lips in a soft kiss of gratitude. "Thank you for saving me," she whispered, her voice like honey.

A shadow was cast over them as Pestel twirled across the fields of ruin. Her gaze fluttered away from River's blue gaze as she spared a moment to watch the rodent made of trash and insanity twirl overhead. Keres wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Needs..." she struggled to speak. "A bath." She sat up slowly, her long silken hair brushing River's skin as she pushed away from him. She flinched, feeling the annoying tug of open wounds from the husks. "Time to go," she said, nodding towards the fray he'd sent the Demon Princess into. "Back to your friends," she clarified. She got to her feet only for her ankle to slacken and send her crumbling down again.

Keres stared intently at the gash that split her ankle as if glaring at it would hasten the healing process. Her blood was nearly the same colour as the Elven symbols that swirled and curled around her ankles. As she bent to press a hand to the bleeding wound, her flowing sleeves shifted to reveal the red swirls of the ancient Elvish language of Quenya. They were tattoos only High Elves had, for any other race, including humans, would perish from the strain of them. Even most Elves could not bare them, for they marked the Chosen of the High Court and their powerful and ancient ancestors. To trained and Elfin eyes, they made her as an honoured maiden, temple dancer and priestess of the High Elves. A pure and old soul.

Seriene cursed to herself as she saw the plague riddled creatures rise up at the beck of the diseased rodent. She looked about herself, trying to figure out where she could get a better line of sight to start casting to keep this small, seemingly ragtag army on their feet and fighting for as long as she can.
She dashed about the crowd as quickly as she could, failing to actually find a particularly elevated patch of ground close enough to the field of battle to be able to cast anything.
The priest looked about before finding a rather broad shouldered tall individual, resembling a... Well an ogre, much to her despair. She swallowed her nerves and marched up to the bulky creature, patting it on the side and causing it to look down at her.
After much wild gesturing and confused yelling at each other in different languages she found herself standing on the ogre beast's shoulders, wobbling slightly but having an excellent field of view.

Seeing the swarm of filth charging down on the front line she steeled herself and charged a spell, shouting a word "Fortuitous!" across the field of battle, a halo of silvery light surrounding the army for a moment before vanishing, her unlikely allies being filled with increased fortitude, their skin and flesh hardening for battle.
Muttering a long drawn out prayer she began to spam shields along the front line, bubbles of holy light engulfing them as well as a halo of brilliant light, giving them the speed and defense to hold the first onslaught at least.

A bead of sweat rolled down Seriene's brow as she poured her energies into the prayers and spells, her breath still steady but the strain starting to spark in her mind, her body already mostly exhausted from the battle she'd already been in, she didn't know how long she would last but she would do what she could, as long as she could.

River smiled kindly when she spoke of the rat in the distance and his need for a bath, she even had a sense of humour this crimson goddess of his. When she tried to leave a light frown found its way to his features against his will, his features molding into that of concern when she could not even walk from him, The Incubus bent down to inspect the wound and his heart thumped against his chest as he noticed the amount of blood. Perhaps he would not be able to participate in this combat after all, but he thought that perhaps, it would be worth it.

The Incubus retracted his wings and leant forward, his eyes unable to draw away from her marble white skin nor her stark beauty in comparison to her surroundings. He steeled his nerves and nodded once to himself, he noticed the markings but did not question them, did not question her. He felt do so was a sin, and so instead he partook of another sin. The Incubus reached out his hand once more and allowed it to grace her skin, to trace down her perfect face and rest beneath her chin, lightly tugging her face along with the caress to look towards him.

He moved in closer, a hot flush rising to his cheeks as he met her perfect scarlet lips,one hand resting against her cheek with a light touch, his other finding its way to float about her hip. For a few moments it seemed as if he had simply given into his urges, unable to disway his feelings for The Woman, no, Keres. However soon his passion became greater and his lips pressed enthusiastically against hers. The kiss had an electric, intense feeling to it and was accompanied by the soft glow of Rivers body, the feeling of it all was intoxicating and addictive, a wayward hand softly touching and flowing along her body expertly. He finally managed to break away from the kiss with a forced pull and glanced down wearily at her ankle with a small smirk before slinking away and resting against the nearest ice spine with heavy huffing and sweat slinking down and tracing his body. His white t-shirt stuck against his chiseled features.

"Sorry my dear Keres, I'm afraid that's all I can do" He purred wearily, despite his tiredness the pheromones would continue to intoxicate Keres with thoughts of him, tantalizing her with his tired vision.

Keres was left with no wounds and a surprising new physical energy that would buzz through her system, in comparison River sat nearby huffing and drained of any powers he had regained from The Husks. Around a dozen claw and stabbing wounds present beneath his perfect shirt that was slowly becoming slicker with pumping blood, A crippling gash opened upon his ankle and flowing blood to stain his black boots a darker shade of slight crimson.

He was out of the fight.

His fingers were gentle as he took her dainty chin and tilted her head towards him. Then all at once the world shattered into nothingness and all that was left was his lips pressed to hers. Her eyes widened briefly in surprise and then she was fighting back, her eyes fluttering closed and her fingers finding their way through his shock of red hair. Keres had kissed many before, mortals and immortals, men, women, and everything in between, but this was a kiss she'd never experienced in her life. To call it such a common thing seemed an insult for it was the giving of life, the cry of a newborn, the death of a star and the birth of a realm.

She pulled him closer as she was lifted by the molten lava so like his hair and his golden gaze that flowed from his open mouth. She parted her lips and allowed the life force to be poured into the very core of her being. His hands burned where they touched her and yet she pulled him tighter against her body, her movements nearly violent in their intensity and desire. His fire flowed through her veins and ignited her bones. Never had she expected burning to death from the inside out to feel this incredible.

When he pulled away, she was left breathless, something she'd never honestly experienced from a simple kiss. Her eyes were wide and wild as she stared at the Incubus. It was as if his very essence burned through her ruby orbs. Her lips were parted and full from the mouth to mouth resuscitation - because that was exactly what it had felt like, being given life. Her migraine was no more and for the first time since she could recall, the clenching pain and weariness from being the vessel of her ancestor's and High King Elrond's power was non-existent. It required every drop of her self-control to prevent herself from snatching the demon and forcing his life into her.

"Careful, Incubus," she purred, a smile flirting the corners of her lips as she buzzed with energy. She rested on the ground with her palms pressed behind her to prop her up, her head tilted in watching the fiery demon. "If you keep this up, I'll have no choice but to conquer you and lock you in my bedchambers as my eternal slave." Keres beamed at him, her white teeth so bright they were almost blinding. "You're at a disadvantage, as you might've noticed," she said, standing in one swift and elegant movement. She stood proud, the wind tossing her long white hair about like a feral Goddess or Snow Queen, this was in contrast to a slumped man deprived of his energy. In a few quick strides, she stood before him and despite her smaller stature, she seemed to fill the realm with her light. Keres leaned forward so her lips were breaths away from his ear and with a purr and a whisper, she told him, "You'd look ravishing in chains."

Keres bounced back with a melodious laugh and spinning around, she placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the battle. Her silver and maroon robes spun with her in a flurry of winter and the bangles she wore jingled oddly. When she turned around to face the Incubus again, it was with a cheeky, dimpled smile as if she were sharing with him a secret that would get them both in trouble. She took his right hand and pressed it over her heart whilst she pressed her own over his, the Elvish greeting of respect. When she pulled her right arm away, it was to hold it over her heart as her other hand pinched the edge of her long dress which she moved aside to allow for a deep bow.

"Keres Leventis at your service," she announced. "I am in your debt..." She tilted her head thoughtfully to the side as she watched him carefully. "Insert name," she settled for in the end. Her dimple deepened as her smile that incited nervousness - and reasonably so, too - widened. Keres took his hands as she straightened, first placing his left over her right breast. "This is Angel," she explained. She held his right hand over her left. "This is Danger." She tossed him a wink. "You may address them accordingly."

"Y-You are on my s-side? T-Thank you mister, my name is Myon. I am Mistress Aera's soul. I do not think I could have defended Mistress Aera by myself. I-I was afraid at first as you give off the same aura as them."

Pravus's shadow cast over them, he listened to Myon's words with great focus. He managed to shut out a strange shrill scream which had echoed out from behind him. He was mildly impressed that she could tell his similarity to the shadow warriors currently doing battle a short ways off from them, just far enough that they were somewhat out of the general melee. Even still, none of this was far off from the general far he has had when dealing with spirits.

"Please assist Mistress. I'm incapable of lifting her. If you find yourself in danger, don't play hero though, just put Mistress down and save yourself. It isn't the first time she and I have died in battle."

He had no intention of letting the spirit's mortal half die out of self preservation. He would perform his duty until his death. Torch Bringer only knows he's been due for one for a long time now. He was however even more curious about her and her mortal self after the mention of their past deaths. The plot thickens. He made note of that detail, planning on asking a few questions as to this strange situation this one swordswoman has been placed in.

The spirit proceeded to scream, exclaiming at the rat he made note of earlier. Before he could yet act he was joined at this side of the field of war by a strange ape person and a magus of some unknown variety. The ape attempted to use some sort of alchemical weapon on the corrupt rat before leaping to safety and the magus spread a wave of flames at it. The chemicals simply washed away off the unnatural plague rat's face and the flames were buffeted back by a sickly gas conjured by the rodent.

"Get her out of here, I'll cover your retreat!" The magus yelled back to them. Though the rat monstrosity had shown no interest in him nor the spirit's fallen body it was still a welcome gesture if it meant an early grave for the putrid wretch that the rodent was. It seemed that their attacks were being rebuffed however, a concerning detail he would need to attend to when Myon's situation was no longer a pressing matter. The rat had discarded it's clothes, revealing it to be some sort of feeding ground for parasites and insects of numerous variety. It started to direct this swarm attached to it using the mace as a form of scepter of command, the insects responding to it like an orchestra responds to the maestro.

Pravus nodded to the magus in response. "If fire fails, try drowning it's swarms with water.
If that fails, the water will still serve me well." He suggested to the magus. He was already plotting the rat's demise,
numerous ideas coming to mind on how to put a stop to this living pestilence.
Most of these ideas involved a key element: Mud. Luckily the ground was still moist from the magus's earlier rainstorm.
With additional water the ground would be wet enough to be ideal.

He could feel Myon physically gripping him, urging him to move away from the plagued creature before them. This spirit didn't need to have the capability to interact with solid matter in order to touch him and vice versa. His natural gift from birth allowed him to both perceive, speak to and even physically touch spirits. If needed, he could combat a ghost if he was forced to. There was occasions when the restless spirits of the dead influenced by the natural necromantic aura of Sed would attack him in their confusion and despair. He defended himself each time, making sure to try and drive off the ghost rather than simply beat it down. To be a Grave Tender was to show mercy to the dead no matter how angry the spirit was. His role was to pacify them, to show them the respect they need.

Stepping over to Mion's fallen physical portion he knelt down onto one knee. He set his arms underneath the girls muddied body, lifting her from the ground and gently carrying her in a bridal carry. Carrying her body required care as she was gravely wounded and carrying her as he did the dead body before him would cause blood to flow improperly. This way was the safest way to transport the body even though it occupied both his hand's doing so. With the body of the swordswoman in his arms he strode back to the Nameless's lines with heavy gravitas.

As he walked along the field of battle, his attention primarily to the health of the girl he held, a couple shadow's had strayed from their mass to pick on easy prey. It was undeniable that they were both quite vulnerable at this very moment. Before they could reach them both however a divine barrier sprung forth to guard their return. The long swords of the few shadows hammered against the sphere in their attempt to get to them through this new protection. Pravus was moving as fast as he could safely move with the wounded swordswoman in his grasp and it was still barely faster than these shadow's jogging pace. It seemed as though the weapons were about to penetrate the shielding when he came up to the source of their protection: a strange looking priestess sitting atop an ogre casting healing into the ranks of the nameless.

He figured that this strange woman could heal the swordswoman, solving the problem at hand for him. As the clanging of long swords rang out around him he slowly set the body back down onto the ground, taking what seemed like forever as the divine protection surrounding them gave out before these shadow's onslaught. With a calculated calm as soon as his arms were free of the girl he spun around to face the two assailants. Using the speed and momentum of his turn he swung his shovel downwards from an overhead swing, causing the warrior to bring it's shield up, guarding it's face from the attack. By bringing it's shield in front of it's face it was now blind to his true intent as his arc dipped sharply downwards, slicing straight through the shadows thigh. The arterial spray from the wound painted the already blood coated shovel with a fresh layer to drip along the edges.

It's comrade swung wildly at him with a downward cut towards his head. He responded to this uncontrolled maneuver by stepping out of the swords range, his shovel in position in case he misjudged the swords distance. He wasn't wrong as the blade missed him, giving Pravus ample time to retaliate. He feigned a shot towards it's leg, causing the shadow to drop it's shield so that it wouldn't suffer the same fate as the other one. With an opening created he thrust the shovel's head clean through it's neck, sending the pitch black head rolling off. With an off hand strike he finished off the first shadow whom was trying to surprise him from the ground with a shovel to the helmet's face opening.

With their recent foes dispatched he turned his attention back to the unusual looking priestess. Dropping to his knees he reached down and lifted the body of the girl once again. This time however he held her wounded self up to the priestess in order to show her what he wants her to heal. "Priestess! Please heal this woman for she is wounded." He called out to the priestess atop her mighty ogre. Hopefully his words got across to her but even if she didn't speak his language the fact he was yelling to her would draw her attention. After that, this wayward warrior's health would lie upon the whims of the healer. Pravus simply remained, a pedestal to support the body while the priestess performed her divine magic's upon her.