All the groups come upon the same point at nearly the same time: a very steep cliff dropping rapidly into deep darkness. The howl of a gale and small gusts of wind reach them where they stand: strange voices on the wind hint of horrors to come.

There's something down there.

"Come." The voice echoes gravelly from the dimness. "Confess, and be damned. I shall be the judge of where you will rot until time itself is overturned."

The voice is articulate, but rough, as if the throat that uttered it was not quite shaped for human speech. The silhouette, too, isn't quite right. Large, perhaps eight feet in height, and burly, this creature is a match for the strongest of Heavy Blades. A lance of lightning, followed at once by an even sharper crack of thunder, reveal the monstrous details. Disturbingly, his jowls dangle loose and hairy, like those of an ox. Ox horns, too, glint from the sides of his head; a too-broad head with a too-wide nose and eyes that seem to have migrated to the sides of his face, looking both ways at once. His feet are cloven, and all around him, twitching and writhing, wraps a flexible, powerful tail. Never has there been such a tail: bristled with short dark hair, matted in unspeakable foulness. Seven times his body length, more prehensile than a monkey's, stronger than an elephant's trunk; never still. This ox of a man bellows again.

"You cannot stall forever, cursed souls. I know your burden to confess your sins. Come and let Minos define your unending absolution."

Well, you haven't got anything else to do today, have you? Down you go!

When the first of the living reaches the terrace of Minos, he suddenly stands rigid, only the tip of his tail twitching.

"What company is this? None of you has felt the dread touch of the Sister's shears. The living have no place here; I cannot point your way. Begone!"

Well, we can't have that. As the crowd on the terrace grows, the tic that seems to travel Minos' body grows worse. The tail lashes his flanks; cracks in the air like a whip. He orders them away again, with no effect. Finally, a brave (or foolish) blue-haired fist fighter tries to slip past him. The tail darts out! And before Shenmock has a chance to react, he is bound tightly by the appendage. It snatches him in close, and SNIK! CRACK! the powerful arms of Minos break his neck like dry wood. Shortly, the ghost rises from the shattered body, but even in this state Shenmock does not escape. As swiftly as before, the tail encloses the soul, bringing it close to Minos for inspection.

"Ah, yes. Maleboge, the eighth circle. Bolgia ten. Have fun!" And with that, he flung the poor murdered fist fighter far, far into the spiraling depths beyond and below. "Now, as I was saying. Leave this place now, if you ever wish to do so!"

Viva watched as Shenmock's body and soul were subsequently thrown down into the circles of Hell. Interesting the sin that he was placed for, the level of the impersonators. There seemed as though Minos was not one whose better nature could be appealed to they had with Charon. This would be unpleasant, and the human almost wished she wasn't fused with her raven-demon anima. Her demon Viva had come from the fifth circle, naturally the city of Dis, home of the demons. Her Viva had known the complex circles of Hell quite well and might have even carried some clout against Minos, but perhaps that was hoping for too much. The wavemistress closed her eyes for a moment, the lids fluttering slightly and her arms protectively crossing over her chest as she dropped into a crouch. She was hastily searching for the persona of her demon, knowing that a schism in her mentality and personality could well be necessary in order to get through this. But that was a last resort, the event was not worth undoing two years worth of therapy for.

"Fuck...Be patient," she whispered softly to herself, opening her eyes. Her demon was well mixed with her at this point, to pull out the bits and pieces of her Viva would be too time consuming and Minos looked like he was quite livid with the lot of them at this point. Everyone else seemed to be seriously reconsidering going further into the depths of Hell. Are you afraid for your digital souls or are you afraid of confronting your sins? Seeing them spread out before you in all their hateful glory? Viva set her jaw in a determined manner, narrowing her eyes. I know what my sins are. It is high time I faced them.

"Minos," Viva stood from her crouch and approached the minotaur, bearing in mind to keep out of reach of his tail. "We have come too far to allow the likes of you to detour us. Kill and sentence us if you can! Athair ar Neamh, Dia linn! MeAni Kruz! Gan Zot!" she yelled, adding the traditional banishing spell that her demon had always used on the Rogue Spirits when they infested her mind. She doubted the words would do much good here against something like Minos, but they were familiar, comforting and empowering even if only psychologically. For a moment, as she moved to avoid a retaliation from the creature, she wondered where the Rogue Spirits had gone. But she quickly pushed that from her mind as she had no desire to reinvite them. One monster at a time was more than enough.

((OOC: Surprise, surprise? I'm coming back in...Viva can't do this without a moronic Blademaster on her side, right? :lol: ))

Seeing someone die right before your very eyes isn’t a pretty sight, especially someone you’ve met in the past. There was no going back now, even if he did want to just unplug the game and throw off the goggles. One second he had stood there, prepared to make the first shot, but instead was caught and killed. One second he had been there, and then the next. Snap! He was gone, just like that, almost broken into two from what the young Blademaster saw. He gulped at that, one that seemed to almost resound around the area. He knew that he would have to fight this thing, and he knew that this was just one of the many challenges that would come in his way. Was he ready?

That answer was no. The boy would never be ready, even if he had an anima to comfort or even tease him all the time. He had to be ready for this; people were counting on him, and this was the one thing he wanted to prove himself on. Could he take on a giant monster five times the size of him, or was he going to just run and die like a coward? No! He was going to fight, even if it meant that he was…probably going to end like Shenmock. Another gulp followed, but instead of stepping back, he stepped forward and raised his sword. Swinging it through the air, he watched as a blue glow came up in front of him. New confidence seemed to fuel him, and then he found himself sprinting forward. A scream tore through the air, one of defiance rather than that little girl scream that he usually let out. Pulling his sword back, he prepared a blow.

And instead was thrown back, his form spinning through the air like that of a dummy. He could hear his anima deep in the pits of his character’s mind both stifling with laughter and telling him to get up. He was on the ground, and a shadow was starting to loom over him. The end was near. The choice was his: he could battle for life or he could end it now. Was he going to drop the sword or pick it up? Something…something told him he was going to have to pick it up this time. He had to stand up, no matter what the cost!

With a grunt, the Blademaster rolled off to the side and picked up his sword, doing his best to fend off whatever the monster used to attack. He was stumbling, falling, and getting beaten to a pulp. It was turning into a nightmare, and the boy almost thought that the end really was near. Whenever he swung, it was but a tap, or maybe he didn’t even hit it at all! Come on! You can do this! The voices that he used to urge himself forward were doing their best to pump him up, and at points they seemed to work. Soon enough he had brought a skill up, something that would hopefully help the cause. Jumping forward, the boy let loose a cry. This time…this time he was not going to be thrown back in humiliation!

“Rue Slash!”

"Go on, get out! OUT!" Horace boomed. The flurry of wrong and silly answers overlapped the correct one, but the preprogrammed NPC knew when he heard it. The doors slide open displacing rocks and dust as if it were made of limestone. The scholars looked at the door and all seemed to simultaneously bowed their heads in defeat. Many of them that were holding completely unrelated topics threw their work to the filthy ground where it materialized back on the shelf so the floor kept getting more messy, but the shelves replenished. I pity the OCD...

An invisible hand seemed to shuffle them out of the common area and into the streets but not before Stane folded up his coat and thoroughly supplied his gown-like garment full of pastel-colored food. It was a regular picnic in there. A few eggs and an apple dropped out between the edges of the coat on the bottom of the bulge as the door closed just before the invisible hand finished its purpose.

With no where else to go, the party traveled forwards, away from the Citadel and began to see the outline of another party...or two...or three! These people seemed to see them too as their outlines bobbed up and down with more frequency. Stane's party shuffled ahead too, much to Stane's dismay. “Wait guys – waa~a~a~ait!” A few more pounds of food fell between the crack and a chicken leg landed on Stane's shoe. Hopping on one foot and holding his baggage with his fist secured around the bottom of his coat - held at head level – he struggled to catch up and reached down to save the chicken leg balanced on his shoe buckle. He grabbed the poultry and sunk it between his teeth, replacing his spare hand to hold up the pregnant load just in time.

The parties converged near the edge of a cliff as the meat of the chicken leg held in Stane's mouth broke off causing the rest of it to land in the generous pocket of food just below. Before the strange looks in his direction -or even introductions – could be answered, a huge demon twice the size of any avatar appeared suddenly at the edge of the cliff as if tossed to exactly this height from an altitude far below. The mighty hooves of the thing clattered against the hard rock causing smaller pebbles to displace.

Stane felt the weight of his load drop at the sudden tremor. He turned his womb and looked at the ground. Another egg lost! Darnit! He looked up at the massive silhouette. “Sins? What? Ask my poor eggs for forgiveness you clattering oaf!” Stane murmured idly as he held his load upright and bent down to get the cracked egg. The heavy blade's eyes darted to attention – as wide as they would go – as the WHOOSHing sound of a thick whip trailed over his back. The rush of air came an instant after causing Stane's stunned eyes and bent body to freeze. Cursing and screaming forced the heavy blade a look over his shoulder at the tail-full of party members. Before he could identify any one of them, they were flown over the cliff like an evil garbage collector enjoying his job way too much.

He looked up and around him, still bent over. “Guys?...” But what he should have said was “guy?” or even “girl.” Only three of them remained after that one swipe! He did, however, have quite a bit of poultry and fruit in his vision – but the combined party size was significantly less than 3 eggs ago...

The two Stane had spotted immediately went flying into battle, shouting off spell names the heavy blade was unfamiliar with and using tactics seen in Braveheart. The demonic garbage collector shielded its face at the spells and took a few steps back at each one – closer and closer to the cliff. It laughed maliciously at the plastic utensils scrapped upon it's thick hide almost to the point where the demon forgot to fight back. The blademaster's short stature went flying after each attempt.

Stane hobbled over to Dances-With-Knives, flat on his ass. The heavy blade reached into his bag of goodies and came up with a half-eaten chicken leg. He shoved the thing in the kid's mouth and helped him with the first bite, pushing his jaw upwards. “Go now, Sitting Bull!” He yanked the player up to his feet with his spare arm and gave the kid a push he obviously didn't need. That boy could run!

“Rue Slash!” Stane braced his goodies as the blademaster attacked the creature, dealing a significant amount of damage, though not compared to the monster's total HP. The creature's feet remained planted as it pulled its stinger back and flung it forward with a crack echoing around the huge cave like someone had dropped the mic at a the largest concert ever witnessed.

Stane held his ears with both hands at the clattering din. Then he looked at the ground around his feet. “Darnit.” He dropped his head a little as he said the syllables and eyeballed the thick pile of mess he stood in. His leather coat now revealed to be even filthier than their entrance through the maggot-river, but it definitely smelled better than it had.

He shut one eye and cringed as he realized the source of that sound and how it had been created. He REALLY hoped that blademaster had been fast enough to get away or he would have gotten the worst locker room towel snap of his life.

EDIT: because twin blade != blademaster, sorry teishu ><

I’m not going to die…right?

The Blademaster hacked madly at the monster’s side, using his previous Rue Slash skill to tear the flesh out of its side. He was yelling madly at it, screaming taunts like ‘Too fat to get me?’ or something else that was completely idiotic. Finally, he brought his blade down and the ice shattered, sending what looked like sharp glass past his hair. His frown formed a bit of a smile as he started back, trying to keep a safe distance from the giant monster.

In all of his clumsiness, though, Teishu managed to trip and fell to the ground, landing on his back and leaving the monster with a clear, easy shot of him. With several yelps, the boy rolled off to the side and then rolled backwards before stumbling back just in time to see the monster let out a roar of anger. He was so happy that he couldn’t smell its breath! Eyes sparkling as he looked at the monster, the boy rose his blade and faced the monster, throwing occasional glances to the side, trying to figure out whether he was the only one fighting this.

Surprisingly, though, the boy wasn’t alone, and there were about…two or three people to help him, the same amount he had before, or at least close. When he looked up at the monster, he couldn’t help but gulp as it charged forward towards one person: him.

Don’t run.

That was the one thought that came to mind as a monster three times his size and strength came charging towards him like a bull. Don’t run? Ha! That was suicide, and he wasn’t here to try and kill himself. This was only the beginning! Pulling his blade up in defense, the boy growled at the monster as if it was going to scare the monster off to someone stronger who could handle it…like Viva there!

With his spare hand, he dug into his inventory and pulled out a small scroll, which was violet, meaning that it had the Ani element. With a cry, Teishu yelled, “Dark Night!” Screeches followed as if creatures from the very Underworld were coming up to torture him. The boy took a step back and watched as claws shot up from the ground, four in all that wrapped themselves around the monster and then retreated into the ground a moment later. The scroll was gone in a puff of smoke and he was left alone once again, facing the monster with one blade and only a moronic mind to follow.

You’re silent…too silent. The bear sounded concerned for once instead of being his usual playful and teasing self, which was…rather strange. Was the occasion really that serious, or was he just trying to tease him a bit?

I’m facing a monster three times my size with only three comrades to help. What do you expect me to be doing? Singing Christmas songs for you?! Teishu lunged at the monster and swung, managing to dig into flesh for only a second. The monster roared and sent him spinning back with a punch that almost killed him on its own. Yelping, the boy landed on the ground and slid, his blade clattering yards in front of him.

The boy pushed himself up, wobbling about for a minute before picking up his blade and raising it once again.

“I’m not going to die…hopefully.”

(*points accusing finger at BellSouth* the turds took the internet away! Its not my fault this time!)

Viva blinked as suddenly the group of people behind her became a great deal smaller. Figuring they were either dead or kicked from the server she pulled away from Minos, to reassess what exactly was happening. And in doing so she found that she had absolutely no clue.

Teishu was being a moron, which seemed second nature to the blade master and then Stane was...she had no clue what he was doing. Between the apparent chicken legs that he had brought in a doggie bag and the pushing of Teishu every-which-way it was enough to make her head spin.
"Why am I surrounded by idiots?" she muttered, glancing back at Minos who was taking a unhealthy interest in the two swordsmen as they moved around him. She wished that some of the other players, the higher level, more experience ones were with them, but then again she also wanted a winning lottery ticket. There are somethings you can't just have no matter how much you want them. Creeping around the edge of the battle, she hastily typed up a quick FlashMail to her remaining teammates.

With that taken care of the woman ran up to stand next to the Twin Blade, grabbing him by the shoulder for a moment to stabilize him and then rushing forward at Minos so her spells would hit him full force at zero range.
"MeAni Kruz! MeAni Kruz! Gan Zot!"

Apparently the blademaster had survived the wicked snap of the creature's tail. Minos growled in defeat at his mistake and planted his feet as if preparing for some outburst of rage and power. Before Stane could register a plan of action to this fortified stance, one popped into his head – or rather, his inbox.

Made sense. They certainly weren't going to down the monster at their level and its apparent strength. He had noticed the creature take a few steps back after the first torrent of spells sent in it's direction. However, Stane wasn't the most proficient in the ways of the arcane...He'd fire off one – all he had the SP for – and then turn his focus to the offensive. And he didn't mean his breath.

Three foreign spells fired off of the lady of the group, who Stane assumed to be Viva. The monster broke its rock-hard stance and shielded its face with its forearm. Minos' teeth clench together with rage behind his arm. His eyes started to spout fire as a war cry worth of an army of barbarians erupted from its gullet in the direction of the sky.

It's now or never... Stane ripped the sword from his back and extended his left hand in the direction of the monster. “Juk Rom!” Stane's most displacing skill fired from his direction: a tornado the size of a man brought up small rocks, dust, and a few scraps of the pile of food at Stane's feet. The turkey leg spun around in circles with the unnatural weather. Stane ran as fast as he could, right behind.

The air hit the creature with a splat. Chicken and damp pebbles stuck to Minos' hide like a car had driven in a puddle and sprayed him with the city's filth. He opened his arms to look at the goop all over his body a split second before jerking it forward at a denim knee covering his entire field of vision.

Stane's tensed knee hit the creature with a thud, causing the demon to expose his chin to the sky and flail his arms. The heavy blade had found its weak spot (how original) and capitalized on it by smacking his cocked blade on top of the creature's skull. Before gravity could bring the character to the ground. His knee straightened, fortified with his other boot, and flung himself five feet away.

Minos' hooves were losing leeway. Only two or three more feet and the creature would be over the cliff. Stane hit the ground and checked his SP bar. Perfect. He'd only needed a very small amount to cast this next spell and how necessary to do it at just this moment. A triumphant smirk flickered across his face as the dooming words escaped his mouth. “Gan Zot!” Wonderful rocks of the earth erupted from the ground beneath the ruthless assailant. Any hope of the creature making it out was lost as the very rocks the creature had depended on pierced its hide and betrayed him. The creature reached around wildly for the retreating edge as gravity did its duty and brought the creature to the dark depths it had subjected its victims to.

Stane's eyes boggled as the edge was suddenly only inches from himself. That Gan Zot thing was strong! The heavy blade got up from a kneeling position and looked over the edge. A thin, but muscular tail cracked from the darkness and wrapped around the character's ankle like a batarang (see batman). The player jumped and tripped away from the cliff and caught the forearm of the wavemistress with one hand and hugged a raised boulder with the other. He exclaimed to the blademaster with a desperate and hasty poison to his lips. “Cut it off! Cut it off!” Stane looked below him at his taught leg and the tail threatening to bring him down with it. “Not the leg! - The Tail!!!” Stane turned his head back around and clenched his teeth and eyes together. He hoped the rock and Viva could hold long enough for the blademaster to free him of his life-threatening burden. He also hoped Sir Swords-a-lot had good aim...

((Grading can be found next to your names here.))