It has been a week after Krystianna's trials with the assassins. She and Shadow parted ways after her hearing was restored by the cleric they had saved. Her adventures with him had been interesting but her instincts told her to travel separately... for a while. The last week has been spent either working odd jobs for meals and gold (just enough to get a room at an inn) or healing minor wounds for random villagers. The treasure she'd gained from the assassin guild was nice, but she had long since decided to save a certain amount of money for grander expenses like magic items, armor and new weapons. This was stowed away in her robes, never to be touched for her day-today needs. Her discipline kept her from getting lazy and dipping into that gold pouch... though some days she's had to resist harder than others.

But today's journey does not focus on Krystianna's finances. Today is a day of discovery... and familiar memories.


Imps. Tiny little devils that delight in the torture of innocents and the annoyance of adventurers. They are small in size, about a foot and a half tall, and tend to carry crude pitch forks. Some people call them little devils, and for good reason. Their tiny little pointed tails, pointed ears and fangs give them the perfect appearance of tiny little demons. Occasionally they'll form tiny, crude hovels on the outskirts of villages and make occasional raids of the surrounding farm land for food and sometimes just for shits and giggles. Physically they're rather weak but occasionally they wield strong dark magic. ...Or weak dark magic, it really all depends on the imp. One thing's for sure though, when they're in large groups they're a formidable threat to anyone as they gang up and work as a team, poking and stabbing until whatever threatens them is dead. The primary reason Krystianna is hiding on the top of a rock at this moment.

"Aye, this be a cowardly thing tah do." A dwarven axeman with a bearded chin along with a bearded axe strapped to his back whispers to the cleric.

"Yeah, once you hear an Imp complain about cowardice on the battlefield you let me know." Krystianna shoots back, glaring at the Imp hovel from her vantage point on the rock. She and the dwarf had traveled about a mile into the forest from Niersburg village before they found a clear sign of the imps. It was just a matter of following footprints before they found the mound of clay, sticks, rocks and bones that is the imp hovel. The dwarf had been ready to charge in, axe-a-swingin' but krystianna quickly nixed his plan and dragged him to the top of the rock to come up with a sneakier solution. "Besides, even WITH light blade on your axe, you wouldn't stand a chance against all of them."

"Aye, but with yer healin' magicks I'da been juste fine, right?" The dwarf shoots back, obviously not one to give up a fight, verbal or otherwise.

"I'm not going to heal you constantly. I'll run out of power in no time." She snaps back, turning her head back to the hovel. "Besides, I can fix your wounds but you'll still be in a world of pain from the stabs and spells.

For a few moments there is silence.

"So ya plan is fool proof?" The dwarf asks, staring at the hovel.

"No plan is fool proof." Krystianna says, pulling out a torch. "But this'll do a lot better than a frontal assault." She digs into her robes, looking for her flint.
"...Ye be a cleric though, aye?" The dwarf asks subtly.

"Aye." She says mockingly back.

Ignoring the comment on his dialect, he continues. "Well canna ye use God's wrath on tha imps? I hear that be a powerful spell against tha devils n' the like beasts of tha dark?"

Krystianna doesn't answer right away. Her expression turns thoughtful and a little resentful of the question. The dwarf is a tad oblivious to her reaction though and pateintly waits for an answer. "....I can't use that."

"Hmm? Why canna ye use it though? Didn't ye say ye were of a high level? Clerics of that powe-"

"I SAID I CAN'T USE IT." She snaps suddenly, lighting the torch. "Look, just get your axe ready to slice when the survivors come running out." She holds her hand to the blade of his axe, her hand shining. "Light Blade!" Instantly the dwarf's axe shines a dull blue, the blade of the axe brimming with light energies.

"...Aye lass. Just ye be ready ta help when things get sticky." He says, passing her a bottle of vodka from the local tavern.

"I'm always ready..." She says, tossing the bottle at the hovel. It smashes into a thousand pieces upon impact with the mud and stones, splashing the contents across the top of the crude structure and around the area. A few imps squeak and cackle, climbing out of the hut to see what the commotion is. The cleric wastes no time and quickly tosses the torch through the air. It spins in a flaming circle until the head hits the top of the structure, instantly igniting the building in flames. Shrieks and screams come from the inside of the hut and a few flaming imps rush out of the exit, trying desperately to put out the flames but quickly succumbing to the burns. The hovel soon collapses in a pile of flaming rubble, burying the lot of them beneath the flaming wreckage. About a dozen scurry about angrily, trying to douse the flames and find the culprits.

It doesn't take long for the dwarf to rush up and slice the first one in half with his axe, the blade of light piercing the demon's skin like a knife through butter. the imps shriek and scurry about. A few of them jump after the dwarf who quickly sweeps his axe in a wide arc, chopping a few limbs as it pass through their tiny bodies. A few yard away though an imp with a medallion on his neck hold his crude staff up, making it brim with darkness. It mutters a few curse words and slowly points the staff at the dwarf before it gets beaned on the head with a sturdy oaken staff.

"How rude." Krystianna says bluntly, pulling her foot into the air and slamming her foot down on the floored Imp. It squeals out painfully as her heal breaks its spine. It dies soon after leaving two other imps glaring and jumping at her with their spears. "Uh oh.." She says, jumping backwards, barely parrying their jabs with her staff.

Meanwhile the dwarf reaches behind him, tearing an Imp from the back of his breast plate, flinging the creature into a nearby tree. "Aye! Ye surrilous lil' whelps ah gettin' on me nerves!" He brings his axe down, splitting the skull of another imp as two more jump on his sides, trying to stab through his armor. He grunts in pain, grabbing their heads one by one, tossing them off similarly and quickly following up with a painful uppercut with the axe. The pair still had about six imps to worry about though, four swarming the dwarf and two attacking Krystianna.

"You little brat!" Krystianna shouts, drop kicking one of the devils into the flaming wreckage of the hovel. It dies instantly of course but unfortunately, the other takes the opportunity to leap onto her back and drive its weapon into her back. She screams out, feeling the crude point of the spear drive through her cloth robes into her skin. "You bastard!" She yells, grabbing the Imp of her back and gripping it with both her hands. "I'll teach you what for!" She says, grabbing the Imp's head with one hand and its torso with the other, quickly snapping its neck. She drops its dead body to the ground and growls lowly, dropping to her knees. "Uff.. dangit... that hurt..."

"Ya canna beat me!" The dwarf shouts, cleaving his axe straight through the torsos of the last two imps, smiling victoriously. "He thatall teach ye ta mess with a dwarf!" He blinks and grabs his side where a pitchfork had stab between the gaps in his armor. "Argg.. wish ye hadn't put up such a fight though." He goes over to Krystianna as she slowly nurses her wound. "Aye lass, ye be bleeding quite a bit thare. I suggest ye make with tha healin' what fer."

"I know..." She grunts out, picking herself up by her staff. "Holy Anhk" She says slowly, letting a blue aura surround the two of them, closing up their wounds slowly.

About a half a mile to town...

"Gah... Damn it..." The young cleric mutters irritatedly, her foot sinking two inches into a mud patch that had blended in perfectly with the rugged dirt path the pair had followed. The dwarf frowns a little, watching her slowly pluck her foot from the soft earth, still remaining silent.

They hadn't talked since the imp's nest.

"Stupid piece of..." She doesn't finish the rest of her sentence, instead choosing to flick her foot in the direction of the forest, trying to get some of the mud off. The dwarf keeps watching, rubbing his arm absentmindedly, feeling too awkward to really say anything that might sour her mood further. She'd been in a bad mood since they'd left the nest and it had only gotten worse on the long march back to town. Still, he was darn curious as to why her attitude suddenly went from optimistic, sarcasitc confidence to dark, irritated, stay-the-hell-out-of-my-way...ishness. As she slips her shoe off her foot to knock it against the tree, the lag in travelling sparks a desire to satiate his curiosity. As the mud smears against the rough bark of the nearby tree, the dwarf coughs a little to clear his throat; Krystianna gives him a quick sideways glance for having made a noise but quickly re-focusing on the shoe and the uncomfortableness of having bare feet.

"Sooo lass." He starts out. For a moment he waits for a reply but the young cleric refuses even eye contact, choosing to focus instead on her boot. The move had been made though, so he continues. "Lucky them thar imps hadda lot ta be travellin' with from tha village. Made ous a right clear path ta follow, thay did." He nods to himself and looks at her, waiting for a response. She gives her boot a semi-violent whap against the treeside, making the dwarf jump a little from the sudden noise.

"....Yeah." She says a little darkly, wiping the brim of her boot clean with the back of her hand, sliding it back onto her bare foot. Undaunted, the dwarf coughs a bit to clear the shock from his throat and continues.

"Should bea makin' et back ta tha village say dinna-time we should..." He says, the two walking along the path again. The dwarf stares at the back of her head, her light pink hair shimmering in the light peeking through the trees. His mind wanders for a second, allowing his eyes to trace down the back of her robe to her green sash she keeps tied in the back. In a way it almost looks like one of those kimonos he'd read about in those fiction books. Usually only beautiful women wore them... or at least those that were described that way. Certainly if there was someone who could wear the garbs of beauty this cleric could. The robe may be modest but it's hard to hide herself completely under it. Every step she takes gives a quick glance at her proportions. ...Just one tug on the bow string....

"What the hell are you staring at?" Krystianna says suddenly, staring at the stout warroir with an evil eye. The dwarf goes pale for a second and coughs, suddenly looking up to meet her intimidating gaze.

"Nothin'! Nothin'!" He says as innocently as he can muster. "Ye jeust gota nice... sash ye do." He stutters, growing less confident with every word. "Err.. what aye mean ta say is... Uh..." His left hand starts shaking a little, suddenly getting defensive. "Well it aint mah fault yer arse be so close ta me eye level! I'm jeust a dwarf!!"

"O-K." She says, cutting the conversation off right there. "Let's just get back, alright?" She turns her head back to the forest, continuing at a slightly faster but still slow enough to be annoyed with pace. There's a two second pause during which the dwarf does not draw breath.

"...Yer really quite tha looker, ye are." He says matter-of-factly. Krystianna turns her head to stare at him, her look dripping with irritation.

"...You know what? Now on? No talking during the trip." She says clearly, walking a little faster.

"Bu-"

"NONE."

"How about another drink Tlhron?" A cheerful barmaid with a slightly lower than acceptable v-neck asks our familiar dwarven friend as he laughs with a small group of townsfolk, human and dwarf alike, all smiling and all a tad red in the face from their drinks.

"Aye, acourse!" He says between laughs, holding his mug in the air and waving it around, sending a few trace drops of ale flying onto the countertop from the rim. "Rounda ale for ALL me mates ere'!" The group gives a rousing cheer, clicking their mugs together sloppily and trying to lean on each others shoulders in a freindly but drunk manner as they get their refills.

Across the tavern on the other side of the room (a place now filled with festivites, the townsfolk having come out en masse to celebrate the imps removal), Krystianna can't help but chuckle at the scene of drunks at the bar as she holds a village woodcutter's hand, surrounding it in a blue glow. After a quick chugging challenge from one of the dwarf buddies is answered by Tlhron, she gets back to concentrating on the woodcutter's wound.

"So how'd this happen again?" She asks softly, gliding her thumb over the gash in his wrist as the wound slowly heals up.

"Ah, my partner was frustrated with the tree we were chopping down and he took a huge swing at the tree before I got out of the way..." He looks down to his wrist, trying to keep his eyes in what I'm calling the 'polite zone'. "You're really good at that, I don't feel a thing."

"Sure..." She says, consentrating on making the wound close perfectly. "If I really concetrate on it, white magic can be an antesthetic as well as a heal wounds. Now keep still for just one more second..." Her finger lightly presses to his skin on the end of the closed gash. Slowly, she traces the tip of her finger down the scar, making the red cut dissapear completely with fresh skin as her finger follows the wound to it's end. She smiles and flicks her finger off the man's wrist, the wound perfectly healed. "All done." She says with a smile.

"Wow, it looks perfect..." The woodcutter says, lifting his wrist off the table and rubbing it gently with his other hand.

"That's because it is." Krystianna says with a confident chuckle. "Don't strain it too much today, but you can go back to woodcutting in the morning."

"Wow. Thanks Krystianna." The woodcutter says, shaking her hand with both of his. "You're a real lifesaver." Krystianna blinks for a moment, feeling pressure in her palm. The man smiles at her and then turns to re-join the party. The young cleric looks into her hand, seeing a gold peice placed in her palm. She chuckles and bites the coin to check if its real, and really just for the heck of it, and slides it into her gold pouch in the fold of her robe.

She looks around the room for a moment, smiling at the celebrating townsfolk. A few children playing with an wagon wheel on the tavern wall, families sitting with each other and laughing as they eat and drink their fill, bar patrons showing off their dart playing abilities and of course the drunken pack at the bar, boisterously demanding refills and seeing who could best the other in speed-drinking. She chuckles softly at the sight and sits back in her chair, relaxing as the free dinner they'd given her settles in her stomach. The last hour had mainly been healing townsfolk with various injuries. A kid's scraped knee here, a mother's twisted ankle there... the woodcutter's wrist... They were all thrilled to have a healer in town as the town doctor was always low on supplies this far out in the wilderness. She hadn't charged for the healing though donations had come in, sometimes as subtle as the woodcutter's coin and other times presented as though it was normal business procedure. In any case, the line had ended with that man and everyone was now focused on having a good time, leaving Krystianna with a long-awaited chance to relax. She smiles, letting a long breath escape her lips as she closes her eyes. She leans back in the chair, letting her hands rest, folded on her stomach. Even through all the chatter and ruckus of the room, the young cleric finds herself in a totally serene state, a task most likely made easier from her mental training in learning magic. Whatever the case though, she soon drifts off into a half-concious state, the world a perfect and peaceful place....

....


"Krystianna." A hushed but clearly excited voice whispers nearby. The young cleric opens her left eye to she the grinning face of Tlhron staring back at her, two mugs of foamy ale clutched in his stout hands and a cluster of ale-smelling townsfolk behind him. "Krystianna." He syas again, his smile widening. Krystianna looks at him for a second, her heart deciding to weigh her options for reaction.

"What?" She says, a hint of a smile forming on her face.

"I told tha boys ye could down more ale than all'a them pansies combined! Come on an' show em' what fer." He says, nods of curiosity and confirmation resonating from the grinning group behind him. Krystianna's smile turns into a smirk and she lets a chuckle escape from her gut.

"You asked for it." She says with a confident grin, getting up from her chair. The group whoops and holds their mugs in the air to let her pass them on her way to the bar.

"Aye, 5 gold says she beats em'!" Tlhron says, trying to be heard over the rythmec whooping coming from the other patrons.

"Yer on!" A man in farmer clothing zealously replies, gripping his ale mug harder, apparently beleiveing that makes a stronger point.

The two turn to Krystianna and a somewhat taller than average dwarf, both holding a large mug of ale to their lips and chugging as though they hadn't drunk anything in weeks. Tlhron watches Krystianna's neck in awe as her gullet bobs up and down rapidly as she swallows the ale with blinding speed. The crowd's whooping gets increasing loud as the two comabattant's mugs tilt higher and higher, each trying to swallows the last few gulps before the other. The man in farmer clothing tightens his fists, leaning to to watch closer. Tlhron pumps his fist in the air, seeing Kyrstianna's mug tilt a little further and a little faster than the other's.

"YEAH!! Ye got em' Krys!" He shouts with Krystianna taking one final huge gulp, slamming the bottom of her mug onto the countertop with gusto. Her arm stays in place and she ducks her head down next to her arm, her forhead resting on the countertop, her eyes staring at the floor. A second later, the dwarf slams his mug on the countertop as well, gasping for breath and swawying a little from the exertion. The croud hushes for a second as they stare at Krystianna lying prone with her head down. It's clear she's still breathing normally but her posture makes the patrons worried for a moment. There's a beat as suddenly the young cleric takes a tremendously deep breath. As she inhales, her head lifts from the countertop and she rises from her seat all in a perfect fluid motion until she's standing up, leaning backwards. In the same inhale, her leg lifts slowly into the air until her lungs are filled. She hovers there for a moment until she slams her foot down onto the barstool, exhaling with a loud, satisfied 'aahhhh'.

"Take that ya sod!!!" She says boldly to her opponent, apparently channelling a dwarven accent from all the ale. The group start hollering again, really riled up now that the winner's proven she's ok. Krystianna smiles a little drunkenly through all the claps and cheering, feeling her confidence rise with each chant of her name. Five seconds into it, she grins and grabs her mug. "Oh yeah!! Who's next!?" She says challengingly shaking her mug in the air. The group goes into an uproar about who'll be next, each loudly declaring that they're the biggest, baddest drunk on the planet. It isn't until after fair amount of pushing and shoving that Tlhron steps up to the adjacent bar stool and slams his mug on the countertop with a confident smirk.

"Aye Krys. Ye got ya challenge ere'. Ya think ya can best ma' at me fav'rite hobby?" He says as the bartender refills his mug without even being asked. Krystianna smirks and picks up her mug, slowly licking a drop of ale left over on the rim of the mug, an instinctual pleasure forming from finding a good opponent. She slides her mug to the bartender, never letting go of the handle, while he quickly refills it without any hesitation. A speck of foam falls onto her thumb as the drink fizzes over the side. The smirks and releases the mug to lick her thumb, snapping her fingers afterwards for effect.

"It's on." She says, quickly grabbing the mug and holding it in front of her. Tlhron blinks and smirks, pulling his ale into a ready position as well, the two of them confidently staring the other one down. Krystianna nods her head breifly to the drunks and gets right back to the staring contest. A second passes while the gesture works its way into what's passing for their thoughts right now. Finally one of them lets out a resounding 'Oh!' and starts counting down from five. The others quickly realize and join in, getting louder with each number...

4!!

3!!!

2!!!!

1!!!!!

"Chirp chirp!" A song bird outside the inn's window calls out, catching the first glimpses of the morning sunlight. It flaps its wings a few times, stretching out from its slumber and chirps out again, loudly into the still morning air. A minute passes as it sings its fill, flying off into the nearby forest soon after its closing note. Nearby, lying stomach down in bed with her robes crumpled up around her, her pink hair scattered all over her pillow, Krystianna slowly opens her darkened eyes. For s second, she squints at the sun, frustration slowly stewwing over the impossibly huge headache she now has. She mutters something rather dark and holds her hand up slowly to her head, grunting out a quick enchantment.

"Holy Anhk.." She mutters slowly, her palm glowing gently as the spell energies soothe and relieve her headache.

It takes a good five minutes straight.

"Holy crap." She mutters, slowly tracing her hand from her forehead up her bangs, brushing her hair backwards so it flows down her back instead of down her pillow. Once her hair passes for 'not bed ridden', she sits up slowly, letting a gigantic yawn escape from inside her chest. Her lips smack a few times as her conciousness is slowly, slowly restored. After a minute, her nerve endings suddenly snap back into functioning and she blinks, looking down at her crumpled robe. Her eye brow raises as she looks at her shoulder, the robe edge having slipped down to her elbow. She looks down at her waist, also noting her green sash missing and her robe flap slightly open. She blushes for a second and pulls the robe open to look at her t-shirt and shorts.

"Still intact, thank goodness." She mumbles, letting the bottom half of her legs drop over the side of the bed as she pulls her robe closed. After a good arm stretch, the young cleric rises from the bed and looks casually around the room. She spies Tlhron sleeping in an adjacent bed, sprawled out and essentially unconscious. As she turns her head a little she blinks, noticing her green sash lying on the side table next to his bed. She mutters something that sounds like 'pervert dwarf' and walks over, yanking it from the table and tying up her robe.

After some standard morning grooming in the bathroom, the young cleric heads out of her room, downstairs to see if breakfast is ready. As she reaches the middle of the steps, the downstairs tavern/diner comes into view. She blinks, seeing the chairs still out of place, the plates still on the tables, the bar a complete and utter mess, and the wagon wheel knocked over.

"Geez... Was the maid drunk too or something?" She says to herself, weaving past the tables to reach the bar countertop. She sits on the same stool she drank so much on last night and looks to the kitchen doors, hoping to find the bartender or someone. "Helloooo?" She calls, tilting her head to see through the window into the kitchen. "Breakfast much?" She taps her fingers on the bar, slowly getting impatient.

After a few seconds with no signs of life, she mutters and hops down from her barstool, turning to go back upstairs. Before she gets far though, her nose catches a whiff of some smell wafting through the window to the kitchen. Her nose crumples up as she consentrates, trying to distinguish the smell.

What is that? Somethings... boiling... mm... smells like steak.

For a second, she salivates and heads to the kitchen. Anxious to eat SOMEthing, she rushes up to the bar and makes a graceful leap over the countertop, landing on on her feet on the opposite side with a slight thud. Shivering from the impact, the young cleric shakes her head and rushes into the kitchen. The double doors burst open as the simple yet versitile kitchen comes into her view. Her eyes scan the room from left to right. ...Wash basin... pantry door... spice rack... cooking utensils... frost magic box... she suddenly smiles seeing the fire stove and a large pot with steam rising from it. She walks over, looking casually for the chef, wondering why he left a pot boiling alone.

"Must be getting something from the store room..." She muses, peering into the pot...

This small town of Niersburg is quiet this morning. A gentle but permeating fog slowly rolls into town from the nearby rivers, covering the town with white. Dew has long since formed on the plants and rooftops giving the whole town a serene sense of early morning. Even the local fauna, the birds, the local pets, have all seemingly slept in allowing for a perfect still to radiate throughout the town. Not a sound forms... For the moment.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!" Krystianna screams out at the top of her lungs, shattering the silence of the morning. Her face pales and she falls backwards onto the floor to her back, having lost the ability to keep her knees in a non-jello state. She shudders from the impact for a second before she curls up into a ball and shivers, screaming into her arms. She screams two more times to completely expunge the shock from her, leaving her with a grim sense of horror. Slowly, she uncurls, rising to her feet, her eyes locked on the pot. Her breaths short, she shudders and shakes her head in disbelief. "What.. the HELL kind of chef WORKS here?!!" She screams out, stepping backwards away from the pot. Without needing to stay another instant, she shakes her head and rushes to the double doors, bursting them open as she stumbles back into the tavern, leaving behind the pot for good, steam still rising from the boiling water with the burnt, scarred, skinned dog floating within.

Shaken, she weaves around the countertop, not up to jumping over it again. She looks around the disorderly tavern for a second and shakes her head in disbelief. "Ok... ok... that was... really, really fu*ked up..." She says to herself, heart still pounding. "Oh my god... what did I EAT yesterday!? That is sick..." She blinks. "And what the HELL is wrong with Tlhron?? When a lady screams you're supposed to wake up and play hero!" She says incredulously, looking up to the ceiling. "He didn't drink THAT much!" She says, rushing to the stairs and back up to their room.

A few moments later she bursts open the door to their room, heading for his bed. "Tlhron!! You're SO going to barf when I tell.... you..." She blinks and pulls the covers away from the bed, revealing nothing but a mess of crumpled sheets. Her stomach churns for just an instant as she looks around the room. "Tlhron?" She says a bit more quietly, walking around the room.

Did he leave while I was down stairs or something? I swear if this is his idea of a practical joke....

She opens up the closet to find the dwarf's clothes and his bearded axe proped up against the closet wall. She blinks and picks up the axe in her hands, needing a little effort to do so. "He left this behind? Tch, he's gonna need it if this is his doing..." She shakes her head and lays the axe back against the wall, walking back out into the hallway. She looks around at the doors to the three other rooms on this floor.

I probably woke up the other guests with that screaming... They deserve an explination at least...

She shakes her head and walks to one of the doors, putting her ear to it. ...Silence. "Must be asleep... or empty." She says quietly, moving onto the next one. Again she knocks and no answer. Getting a little curious she moves onto the final door and knocks once. She blinks, the door creaking open a little from the impact of the knock.

Well vacant rooms are locked... so...

"Hey mister." She says, opening the door just enough to see the bed. "You shouldn't leave your door open. S'not safe." For a second she awaits a response. ...Nothing. She blinks, again curious. "Hello?" Her brain deciding to try to be bold now, she opens the door a little more to see the bed more clearly. Her left eyebrow raises curiously as the bed comes into view. No one's on it. She shakes her head, annoyed and decides to barge in, thinking she gave them fair warning. She walks up to the bed, looking at the slightly crumpled sheets and noting there's a thick morning fog outside the window. She looks to the bathroom door, wide open and completely empty. She sighs, a little annoyed that no one's in here and and shakes her head. Casually, her eyes trace back to the window at the white fog wafting gently outside. She smiles a little, thinking it looks rather peaceful.

*Creak* Her ears suddenly pick up the faint, faint sound of creaking wood.

Hmm? That's funny... that's not coming from the hall.

She looks around the room a little, her ears still picking up the faint, slow, rythmic creaking noises. After a second or two, her gaze falls upon the closet door. She strains her ears towards the closet, hearing the creaking coming from behind it. She blinks curiously and looks behind her to the doorway, just to check if the occupant is returning. ...Nothing of course. With a 'eh, why not' shrug, the young cleric walks over to the closet door and opens it up.

((OCC: What? Too many 'and then she saw' cut offs? Tough.))

Krystianna blinks. In front of her hangs a weighted, dirty, white sheet suspended from a chain from the ceiling of the closet, rocking back and forth making the wooden ceiling creak. She half-laughs. "This supposed to be a ghost?" She says, smirking a little, pretty sure now that Tlhron and the townsfolk are playing a practical joke on her. "Pretty lame attempt. At least give it mouth or something." She chuckles, tracing her finger along the sheet in the shape of a smiley face. Halfway through the mouth though, her finger hits something beneath the sheet, making the cloth form the small shape beneath it. She blinks, taking her hand away suddenly.

That was kinda.... soft.

Heistantly, she looks down the length of the sheet to the floor. As her eyes reach the end of the sheet, her stomach tightens and her face pales. "No... No... way..." She trembles and chokes back cries of fear, slowly backing away from the closet and into the edge of the empty bed. Her knees buckle upon impact and she's forced into a sitting position on the bed, her eyes locked with the puddle of blood and the pair of bloody, scarred feet dangling an inch above the floor, peeking out from under the sheet. Her heart starts pounding and she stifles another scream, trying to desperately calm herself.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod... calm down.. calm down! Yes.. there's a Dead guy... hanging... in the closet... but it's not that bad... it's just.. just... a .... OHMYGOD there's a DEAD GUY HANGING IN THE-! OK... calm down... You're a cleric... death is... not even an issue....

She whines in fear and swallows, quelling the catch in her throat. Slowly she stands up from the bed and leans away from the closet, shuffiling her feet and inching back towards the sheet with her arm outstretched. As she reaches the closet again she carefully takes the sheet in her hand, getting a firm grip on it. She swallows and stands up straight in front of the closet, grimmacing at the prospect of removing the sheet. After five seconds of steeling her will she jerks her arm backwards, ripping the sheet a little as it catches on the chain and she flings the dirty cloth to the side. She stands, staring at the revealed 'weight' and grimmaces sickly. She holds her hand over her mouth and hurks, running to the bathroom.

Two minutes later, the young cleric reaches for the toilet paper, wiping her mouth clean. "Ugh... I didn't think I'd eaten that much..." Tossing the paper into the garbage, she hangs her head, panting and trying to catch her breath. Instinctually she rubs her stomach, trying to soothe it after such a powerful barf. "By the gods, that was disgusting!!" She exclaims in a rather blasphemous tone. "Ugh... Do I really wanna revive him? I'd have to actually... LOOK at him..." She shudders and whimpers a little, getting up very slowly, heading back into the main room.

She soon stands in front of the hanging corpse, clothes torn asunder, cuts and burns covering its whole body, congealed blood re-coloring its skin, and, worst of all, a metal hook going straight through its head, attached to the chain that holds it aloft. She shudders and recoils for a moment before slowly gripping the corpse's shoulders. "Can't revive him.. with that still in there..." She mutters, pulling the shoulders so that the corpse slowly slides off of the hook. As it reaches the pointed end the corpse flops down to the ground in a heap, the young cleric having to repress a scream as it falls from her grasp. Refusing to even look at the residue on the hook, she kneels down and puts her hand to the corpse's head.

I'll need to restore the body before I can revive him...

"Holy Anhk" She says softly, shutting her eyes, letting healing energies flow from her palm. After a few moments, the cleric blinks and looks down at the corpse's head. ...Nothing happened. She squints in confusion.

What? I should have made a little progress... What the hell's the problem?

She exhales in confusion, trying to figure out what's the matter. After a fair amount of thinking her vision makes its way to the corpse's forehead. She blinks and her blood runs cold, seeing the scars cut in a specific design. She turns pale again and gets up, rushing out the door and slamming to closed behind her, sinking down, her back against the door, to the floor, shaking and short of breath.

It's a curse... someone put an anti-white curse on that man... Oh my god... there's something that can curse people in this town. ...And... kill them, yeah.... Oh god... oh god... if it's a demon... ...I can't be, can it?! What the hell's a demon doing way out here?!!? This is outer rim! ..They... couldn't possibly make it here... Unless...

She shakes her head and runs back to her room, slamming the door shut behind her, not even caring where Tlhron is right now.

Screw it! I have to get out of here. Now.

In a rushed panic, she gathers her belonging and stuffs them into her robes and pack, heading back to the door. Before she hurries out though, she looks back at the closet for a moment and thinks. After a moment, she nods and rushes back to the closet, picking up Tlhron's axe and rushing back out the door.

Holy sh*t this axe is heavy. How'd that lightweight of a dwarf WEILD this thing?! I mean... he can't even hold his liquor...

She shakes her head, frustrated with herself as she rushes down the stairs of the inn/tavern.

Feh, this is no time to be bragging to yourself. I have to get the hell out of this town.

With a loud slam, the doors of the tavern burst open as Krystianna leaps out of the buliding. She hops down off the low-rise porch and onto the dirt path, skidding to a dusty halt. She blinks and stands up straight, her left hand holding the strap of her pack. She looks around for a second, finally noticing how thick the morning fog is.

Geez... I can barely see the other side of the street... This fog... ...I'll bet it's not even natural... Tch, all the more reason to run the hell away.

Fortunately for her, the village is small and she remembers the layout quite well. She turns to the left and dashes down the dirt road. the axe and her pack bouncing along with her rushed steps. After a minute, her eyes spot the vauge outline of the town enterance sign. "Welcome to Niersburg..." She says mockingly, rushing past the fences of the farmland outside the village. After a second she slows down to a walk, getting tired from the running and figuring she's semi-safe now that she's outside the villiage limits. She breathes deeply, trying to keep from coughing.

Oy... ok... I gotta get to clerics tower and have one of the arch clerics cast something to dispell the villager's curses. ...I doubt I could do it on my own, the curses are pretty powerful... We'll only have a little while before their spirits depart and it's too late to revive them.

She shakes her head, walking steadily through the fog.

Why did this happen? Why this village? Was it because it's so isolated? Maybe whoever did this is trying to stay hidden... Probably fear the spell casters around these parts... and the dragons. One thing's for sure though. They DEFINATELY won't fear a cleric without attack spells. Namely me. ...Stupid... worthless... gods.... Letting this kind of crap happen...

She blinks and looks up suddenly, seeing the outline of a building. "The hell? I'm in the next town already?" She walks up to the building and peers through the fog, seeing a sing hanging over the enteranceway.

"Niersburg Sundry Goods"

She blinks and shakes her head in disbelief, looking up to read the sign again.

"Niersburg Sundry Goods"

"Ho... ly... sh*t." She says slowly, nearly buckling under the weight of her pack, her knees feeling weak again, knowing she couldn't possibly have gotten lost on a straight dirt road. "There... is a LOOP SPELL around the WHOLE F*CKING TOWN." She collapses to her knees, a wave of hoplessness washing over her along with the cloud of dust she kicked up wafting over her knees.

Oh my god... ....ooohhh my... god. I can't run away... I don't have the kind of power you need to dispell such a gigantic curse! I can't even lift a freakin' anti-white!!!! ...oh my god... I... I... I'm not going to survive this, am I? I can't get word out... this place is too remote for help to just wander in... and even then they'd just get stuck in the loop... whatever's been killing off the villagers.... and I'm not even going to kid myself, this town hasn't had an ounce of movement since I got up, they're dead as doornails by now.

...How... how did this happen? How did they take the town over so... expertly?

She bites her lip, feeling tears of despair starting to well up beneath her eyes.

...sh*t... don't cry... I... I'll find someway to make it. There's got to be a safe place to hide... someplace safe from... whatever got this town. ...I'll bet anything the mayor has a safety cellar or some kind of safe vault for the village... Mayors are greedy like that no matter where you go.

She nods to herself, feeling resolute as she wipes a tear from her cheek.

"Alright." She says, taking a deep breath. "Time to move."

"MAYOR!!" Krystianna yells, loud enough to be heard inside but not loud enough to be heard throughout the town. "MAYOR!! It's me Krystianna! Let me in!!" Her fist pounds on the door urgently, her other hand contantly jiggling the door knob to try and break the lock. The old metal knob rattles in her grip as she pounds on the door, the old, decaying structural integrity suddenly gives way and the knob snaps from rust and comes off the door into the cleric's hand. She blinks and looks down at her hand for a second and shakes her head, setting the knob down on the wodden porch as she sticks her finger into the doorknob hole. She presses the opposite knob with her finger and it easily slides out of the frame, dropping to the floor inside. Quickly, she opens the door and zips inside, deciding to drag a nearby chair infront of the door to at least slow down anything that comes in. After securing the chair with a nearby doorstop, she walks into the living room and sighs.

"Tch... yeah I feel REAL safe here. This place could fall apart with a stiff breeze. Don't they bother making repairs around this village?" Says to herself, looking to the windows as the morning fog drifts calmly outside, making the view almost pure white. She gazes at the view for a moment and rubs her arm, getting a little chill.

Oh man... I'd better not lose it now. I've got to just ignore how... UTTERLY creepy this is and find a safe place to hide...

She shivers and turns away from the living room, deciding to head upstairs first. She walks up to the mayor's bedroom or at least what she presumes to be behind the door with the name plate reading "Bedroom". Decidingly trying to ignore the blood leading out from under the door she knocks and pauses and finally opens the door and steps inside the room. She instantly notices the bed having a lovely, but slightly torn canopy with just a hint of the red stuff around the endtables. The dressers are large along with the closet and the bathroom. For a small village, this room is quite a luxury. She sighs to herself, momentarily annoyed with the greed, and goes to the bedside to look around. Immediately a small book lying on the endtable catches her eye. She picks it up, half expecting to see some wimpy god's tome. Instead, the cover is blank. She blinks and flips through the pages, revealing a rather poorly written diary. She quickly notices a single page detached and sticking out from the rest of them. She opens to it and reads the page.

3/14
Got that new lock installed on the vault today. Nearly tripped on the basement stairs. I have to get Berzin to come over and fix that for me. 0-9-3-6 Just in case I forget, I've written down the combination. Damn memory's going lately.

She pauses and folds up the page, sticking it in her robe pocket. She muses for a moment and opens up to the last entry

9/23
The cleric and the dwarf came back from the imp's nest today! What a relief to have all those nasty creatures gone. Now we won't have to worry about thefts or even, gods forbid, kidnapping from those blasted devils. I've prepared a healty renumeration for them and placed it in the vault. I'll give it to them when they leave, so long as they ask for it. ...After all if they can't remember why bother giving it to them? Regardless, I'll have to look up the safe combination again... wherever I wrote it.

(This part is stained in blood and I can't read it.)

...ghtmare was... something... feeling something's coming... ...something... hide in the basement... My last will and testiment... ...

...aaaand it cuts off there. Figures. I didn't even get to see if I was in the will. ...Whatever attacked her must have caught her wrist or something...

...

...and now I'm faced with a dillema. Obviously she's downstairs. I can access the vault with what I know now but the question is: do I WANT to? That's the dillema. For all I know she's down there with whatever attacked her and... and I'm not sure I can stomach another dead body...

She looks to the door of the bedroom as she puts the diary back down on the table, pondering her options.

This place obviously isn't safe. That's whole reason I came here, right? To look for a safe spot. If a... something attacked the mayor in her own home and she ran down to the vault... Well... ...I guess it's possible that she got inside, closed the door and is currently cowering with a bleeding wound... something I could help. On the other hand it's more likely that she couldn't outrun, or outclose as the case might be, whatever attacked her and she's long since dead.

"...Crap. I have to help her either way." She mutters to herself, turning to the bedroom door and heading out.

0...

Krystianna shivers again as her fingers nimbly turn the dial on the vault lock. The cellar windows provide just enough illumination through the thick, white fog to see the numbers clearly but it gives the entire basement an chilling, irridecent glow that makes everything seem like it's moving... just a little. And of course the shadows are darkened to their greatest extent, receiving not even a fraction of light from the focused glow.

9...

The young cleric's ears peark up suddenly, having set the next number into place. She had heard a faint, faint clicking noise from within the vault. She ponders for a second the fact that, if she had to, she probably could have opened this vault without the combination from the diary. Her long history of working with theives made it so she knew tha basics of lock picking and vault opening. She had practiced keeping her ears sensitive so she could hear the movements of the thieves, just in case there was ever an opportunity to escape. To find out that the same skill could be applied to the art of picking locks and general theivery... well irony was never her friend, more like her stalker.

3...

She looks down at the floor again, grimmacing at the bloody puddle on the ground. The stairs downward had been an unnerving decent to put things mildly. Spots of blood had frequented every step. A trail... a smudged trail of blood leads towards the vault door, along with that subtle, seemingly typical, but unbelievably-scary-given-the-right-atmosphere creak that the wood gives everytime you make a step. That may have passed, but the fear still remians fresh in the young cleric's memory and it only grows and her fingers turn the dial towards the final number.

6...


*click*

The cleric swallows hard and grips the vault handle tightly in her hand, leaning backwards and yanking the door. It gives, slowly but surely with a long, sustained, in-need-of-oil creak. She takes a step back and lets the vault open by sheer momentum, choosing instead to stand there and prepare to take in whatever there is. She takes a quick breath as the swinging door slowly passes by her face, lifting her bangs up momentarily. She blinks. Inside the vault there IS blood, mostly on the floor and a little smeared on the walls... but no body. She scratches her head for a second and walks inside the vault, inspecting the blood streaks for 'freshness'.

These were made recently... Haven't even dried yet.

She turns and looks back out to the basement. ...Seemingly nothing out of the ordinary. Undaunted, she turns back to the vault, a lot of pressure off her shoulders. After all, NOT finding someone dead tends to lift your spirits... if just a little. She muses for a second, staring in the vault and chuckles a little to herself. Curious as to what the mayor was hording, she slides open a door of one of the saftey deposit boxes...

"...

crap." She shuts her eyes and turns away from the vault, holding her stomach. The disembodied hand and wrist of the mayor, still adorned with her rings and braclets, lies inside the box, neatly placed in a bed of stained-red paper scraps. With a blind flick of her wrist, the cleric slams the box shut and shudders.

What is WRONG with these people?! Are they deliberately trying to make everything horrible?!

She shakes her head and rushes back up the basement stairs and out of the house.

Ok, pretty obvious that the vault isn't safe, with, you know, all the BLOOD AND BODY PARTS. AARRG! What do I do NOW!? There's no where to hide apparently, no where to run... do I find a good spot, huddle with Throln's axe and just fight whatever it is?? ARRGGG!!
I CAN'T give up NOW!! I promised myself! I.. ...I've got to survive!

Her chest constricts for a moment and she kneels down in the dirt path, looking down at the slightly foggy ground, wanting to cry but holding back as much as she can. She brings her knuckle to her mouth and bites down on it, trying to quell her trembling and sniffling. She shuts her watery eyes and hunches over herself a little, wishing everything would just go away. For a minute, she stays there in total stasis, trying to resist panic and find her courage again. After a few deep breaths she suddenly looks up, her ears picking up the faint sound of footsteps and... ...laughter?

"What on... earth?" She whispers, releasing her knuckle and sitting up, turning her head towards the sound. The laughing is quiet, almost sounds like cackling when you listen close enough. The footsteps start getting louder as well. The dirt crunches and billows up just a little under the being's footsteps. Krystianna swallows and slowly rises to her feet, her hand reaching up over her shoulder to grab the hilt of Throln's axe from the latch on her pouch. Slowly she brings it down to a weilding position and nearly looses her balance from the weight. With little sweat drops flying from the back of her head, she quickly puts both hands on the axe handle and stands with the axe in front of her, pointed at the figure, her eyes glaring with consentration. The footsteps get louder and the vauge, dark outline of some kind of human-size figure starts to form within the dense fog. She swallows hard and stares intently at it, not letting her eyes off the approaching figure for a second.

"Who are you?!" She says and sort of shouts to the approaching figure. The figure suddenly stops in its tracks and tilts what looks like its head to the side. The rest of the torso also tilts. The cleric blinks in wonder and grips the axe tighter. "Hello?" She says again, tilting her head in the direction the figure is. There's silent for a moment until the figure emits a low, guttaral moan. The sound sends a chill up the cleric's spine and she takes a step backwards. The figure soon lumbers slowly towards her and its face comes into clear view.

"...N...n-o..." Krystianna says in despair, taking another step backwards, the grim, lifeless, bloody visage of the woodcutter, his eyes rolled back into his head and his hair bloody and dishevled. She gasps and looks down to his wrist, seeing it cut to the bone and seemlingly gushing blood. At least... it looked like blood at first. As he... it gets closer the blood starts to look more like black goo. She shakes her head and shuts her eyes sorrowfully.

He's undead... his entire body is blighted with unlife... ...that poor man...

She sheds a tear and shakes her head, turning to run away, unable to rend someone she'd helped and somewhat liked. She runs two steps before the laughter and cackling starts back up again. She gasps and freezes in her tracks, the figures of dozens of black-skinned little imps suddenly appear in the fog, all weilding pitchforks and laughing sadistically. She swallows hard and grips the axe hilt again, watching the figures circle around her tauntingly, all of them grinning a devilish grin.

"Don't think I'm stupid..." Krystianna says to the imps, in a dark tone as they scurry around her in a threatening circle. "You little gnats of the damned are no where near coordinated enough for this." The imps chattering and cackling gets louder as the circle slowly closes in around her. "There's a master here SOMEwhere!!" She shouts, gripping the axe tighter, her palms starting to sweat. "And there's no way this is revenge.... This was planned." An imp shrieks and leaps at her. She glares and rushes it, pulling the axe backward and giving a powerful upward swing that rends the imp completely in half. It screeches horribly and is flung to the edge of the circle to the other imps who leap backwards before reforming the loop. The young cleric flails her arm for a moment, the momentum of the axe pulling her off balance for a second.

"Wh-hoa!" She yelps, getting back to a balanced position.

Aahhh... this is no good. One attack and I'm completely thrown off. I'll never be able to beat them if they rush, even just a few of them

Her grip tightens and her heart starts pounding, pure animal fear coarsing through her body.

They're... going to kill me... I don't believe it! I'm... I'm actually gonna die!!

The maniacal laughter of the hoarde of imps increases and they start to converge onto the cleric in unision. Their tiny pitchforks waving menacingly in the air. Krystianna's heart beats faster and faster, backing away from one side of the circle and soon being forced to back away from the side she just backed into. Her head darts back and forth, trying to get a sense of where all her enemies are. The pure feeling of hopelessness and fear engulfs her body, making her insides feel heavy and her knees shake. As the first spear smacks against the ground a few feet in front of her, signaling the attack, her heart skips a beat. Slowly, her eyes narrow and she pulls the axe into the air with one hand and slams it into the dirt with a loud clang. The imp horde jumps for a second and they catch a glimpse of the cleric's dark and violent gaze.

"....Not.... Today...." She says darkly, pulling her staff from her pouch and holding it aloft. "Light Blade!!" The imps look up as her staff shines a bright, heavenly light. The fog brightens all around them from the spell, making the imps squint for a moment. With a surprisingly loud warcry, the young clerics charges at one side of the circle, swinging her staff like a club at the stunned imps. The imps that are hit shriek in pain, their torsos tearing like tissues getting hit by a ball of sandpaper. Black blood spills everywhere, staining the bottom of her pure white robes while they brush the ground as she leaps over the corpses of the tiny devils. The imps hiss and swing their tiny weapons meanacingly and give chase, Krystianna bolting for the nearest house for refuge. It's the longest thirty feet of the young cleric's life as the imps lunge for her ankles, trying to slash her down before she can escape. The ones who manage to get close enough to strike are met with a quick blow of light from her staff, sending their rended bodies hurtling backwards. As she reaches the house, she flings the door open, swings inside and slams the door in the little devil's faces.

"Huff* Oh.. puff* man..." Krystianna huffs out, back against the door, a little out of breath. "Imp minions... zombies... this was actually thought out... What the hell have I gotten into?" She shrieks as the door behind her shakes a little, the imps pounding on the door with their tiny fists, none of them tall enough to reach the knob and the zombie too brainless to use it. Regardless, it freaks krystianna out. She quickly grabs a nearby chair and props it under the door knob, holding the door shut. She steps back for a second and watches the door shake, her heart pounding, her mind subliminally producing images of the door crashing in and the imps jumping her and tearing her to bits. Her palms sweat and her knees shake for a second. Without thinking, she rushes up the stairs of the house, just to get away from the door.

The top floor seems typical at first, bedroom, bathroom, closet... Soon though, the young cleric spies a staircase leading upwards. Her heart still pounding, she rushes to it and quickly acends the stairs, her feet stomping on the old wood as she rushes up them. She quickly comes to a wooden hatch in the ceiling. In her frenzied panic, she doesn't find the latch right away, instead she spends the first few seconds pushing with all her might and pounding on it with her fists when that doesn't work. She does eventually find the latch, however, and spends what feels like forever hurriedly fidling with the simple mechanisim. As soon as the latch clicks open though, she bursts through the hatch and climbs the final few stairs, suddenly finding herself on the flat roof of the house. Without hesitating, she slams the hatch closed and slides a nearby peice of wood between the hatch handle and the floor, hoping that will prevent anyone from opening it. With her route blocked and the imps no longer in sight, Krystianna stumbles to the middle of the roof, shaken and trembling. She collapses to her knees and grips her upper arm with her opposite hand, trying to control her shaking.

Come on... don't... don't lose it now. ...He who panics is lost, right? Or is it he who hesitates is lost? AH!! WHO CARES?!?!? I don't want to be LOST!! Bottom line!! ...DAMN IT!! DAMN MY LUCK!! Why... why did I come here...!? Stupid... freaking... town!! With their stupid problems!! This wasn't worth my life!! I don't want to die!! ....I... I don't wanna die...

She watches a tear fall from her cheek onto the roof. Her entire body trembles with fear and despair. For the first time in a long time, Krystinna decides not to hold back her tears. Her head hung, she shudders and jerks her shoulders back everytime she sniffles, tears running down her cheeks like tiny streams, the cleric not even bothering to wipe her eyes. The catch in her throat soon allows her only to breathe in quick, heavy gulps of air and her jaw loosens and quivers with the rest of her body. As she weeps, her blood runs cold and she shivers involentarily.

This tiring process continues for about ten minutes, during which time the imps make laughably little progress on the door. But, as all things pass, she finally calms down, her cheeks puffed and red and the roof with a brand new water mark. She coughs once, her breathing slowly getting back to normal and her body shaking less and less. Eventually she's able to stand again without too much effort. With her heart rate returning to normal, she slowly looks around at the thick veil of fog. Ironically, she was fond of foggy mornings before this. The white cloud cover almost made it seem like the world was being enveloped by a holy mist. Now though, the fog envelops only death and evil, consealing danger withing its thick form. She shakes her head slowly and looks to the adjacent buildings, pondering whether or not she could jump that far.

"How dissapointing." A dark voice suddenly sounds from behind her. She whips around, wide eyed, only to see a floating shadow in the fog. "I was expecting you to cry for another twenty minutes. Frankly, your paltry offering of fear wasn't nearly what I had envisioned from such a frail looking girl."

"Who are you!?!" Krystianna shouts, holding her staff in front of her, glaring like death at the shadow.


"Oh please. Don't even bother. I'm insulted you'd think I wouldn't wait until your enchantment wore off." The voice echoes. Krystianna blinks and looks to her staff. Indeed, Light blade's effects had dissipated back into the ether. Her eye twitches for a second, as she feels her knees wanting to shake again. Instead, she glares at the shadow and grips her staff tighter.

"You think I'm out of magic or something?" She taunts, placing her other hand to the tip of the staff "Light Bla- Mmmf-!!!" She pales, a hand having clasped over her mouth and a tight hand having gripped her wrist. She gasps into the rough palm and tries to swing her staff with her free hand but the hand covering her mouth almost instantly releases and smacks her swinging wrist, knocking her staff to the edge of the roof. She quickly attempts to turn and grapple with whatever's grabbed her but a clawed foot stomps on her foot to keep her from turning and two black, muscular arms quickly ensare her torso, pinning her arms to her sides, leaving her defenseless. Her eyes widen as she turns her head back to see the face of a demon staring sinisterly into her eyes.

"Now I'll consume the the purest and most satiating fear a human can possess." It says darkly, staring into her fearfull eyes. "The fear... of death..." With that, the demon opens his mouth with a snake-like hiss, showing his sharp fangs. Painfully slowly, he moves his mouth towards her throat, intent on ripping her neck open. Krystianna gasps and pales, truely beleiving this is it.

"Wait a minute, Ilthsek." The shadow in the fog suddenly calls out. Both Krystianna and the demon look up to the shadow as a second demon slowly forms from the viel of white.
"Don't kill her just yet..." It says with a hiss. "Those chaste robes don't hide her form from me. I think I'd like this one for my own brand of devoring..." Krystianna pales again, deeply horrified.

"You killed the last one you raped, Armaeis." Ilthsek says, accusingly. "You said you'd let me drink her fear after you were through, but you lacked restraint... as always." They mutter and growl at each other, glaring darkly. Krystianna simply hanging in the demons arms, a look of pure disbelief on her face.

Oh my god... they are NOT having this argument...

"That's enough out of both of you." As slightly more mature, far less hissy, but still quite demonic voice pipes up. "I'm tired of watching you two slugs wallow in your own hedonisim." It says, the demon appearing from the viel of fog. "You two must've killed off almost half of the useful civilians here while we pillaged this place. You even ripped the throat out of that dwarf, Ilthsek. You realize what a good minion he could have made? Nooo, you couldn't resist breaking the spirit and bravery of another warrior, could you?"

"Tlhron..." Krystianna says, despairingly,her head hanging. The demons ignore her mourning though.

"If she's a virgin, she'd make a perfect sacrifce for my rituals." Krystianna weeps softly as he talks. "And if if she's not, all that magic within her will prove highly benificial for our purposes anyway. We're taking this one back whether you like it or not."

"Yes Ahretahs." The two demons mutter, irritatedly but ultimately in compliance.

"Good. I've already ordered the imps to load up the corpses and valuables and head back to the portal. My loop enchantment on the town has worn off, it's time we follow them back before the outside world discovers this place. I can already feel the fog thinning."

EPILOUGE

I'm not sure what they drugged me with... Apparently one of those monsters can produce knock-out gas from his palm... a pretty powerful one at that.

My memory of the trip here is vauge at best. I remember... them walking deep into the forest... I was flung over one of thier shoulders. A creaking and groaning noise kept coming from the cart the imps had in tow... The smell from the cart was horrific but I was too weak and numb to even wrinkle my nose. These scrapes on my arms... they must've come from tree branches we passed through... I guess it was a rough trail.

The demon's dark voices still ring in my head... fresh in my memory of the trip even though I can't even remember how long ago we traveled from the town. Another thing my memory won't let me forget is the view of that unholy portal those monsters dragged me through. It felt like my body was being warped by darkness as we passed through... God... were all those screams real?

...I don't want to think anymore... I just don't. I don't want to think of what they have in store for me. I don't want to think about the anti-white enchantment on this cell... I don't want to think about those chains and harnesses on the walls and ceilings... I don't want to think about where my old clothes are... I don't want to think about how they changed me into this slave outfit... I don't want to think about that smell of death and decay coming from outside the barred window on the door... I don't want to think about the stone walls surrounding me... I don't want to think about the faint dark voices I can hear... I don't want to think about that golem standing outside the cell door... ....please brain... stop thinking...

...


......


....help....


TO BE CONTINUED

Light + 2 lvls, 1000 Gold ^_^