Journey Into the North

Placeholder! Im writing something now.

Cyrus was furious. He'd known something was wrong from the very beginning. It hadn't been the heaviness of unmined jewles and stones that had the mountain groaning, it was the desecration of its noble nature! The sheer evil that had been perpetrated in its halls had crippled its giant, gentle soul with pain and agony. This transcended the ancient hate of dwarves and goblins; this was corruption from within.

He could feel his lips pulling back in a snarl of vicious hatred, a primitve growl forming in his throat. The Duregar were the most reviled of those named in ancient lore and long believed extinct. Their return was a terrible portent indeed; the breach must be widening, the evil was getting stronger.

Following Seraph's lead they began to creep down the hall. He knew though, that without a sign they'd get nowhere; this mountain had been carved with purpose, a mad labrynthine design created to confuse. Now there were a bunch of evil little bastards with wicked blades running around in the darkness ... as yet unaware of them, but that could not last long.

"Ya realise that this absolute foolishness; a type of madness that will most likely result in our deaths?" He whispered fiercely.

Seraph paused. "Yes I do."

Cyrus grinned. "Good then laddie, just clearin' that up." He loved the madcap thrill of adrenaline; this feeling that reminded him he was alive. He let the grin fade though, turning serious. "Never falter. Not even for a moment; all we have to do is make them believe we have the power to destroy them, and the battle will be won."

They had come to the edge of a stairway. It began, abrupt and sudden, at their feet. After it, the hall continued aways, before seemingly ending. Valin stared at the disorderly and apparently random construction, aghast. "This creatures are mad. Their architecture follows no design!"

"But it does," Cyrus whispered. The stairway was massive. There was a landing platform leading off into different areas after every twenty or so stairs. "They've cut the flesh of this mountain ... merely to hurt; for no other reason. Its slow moans fill my blood..." a soft groan escaped his lips.

"Not for long though." Seraph promised. "We must find Sirloaz and together we will bathe these halls in blood."

"But where to start?" interjected Valin.

Suddenly a deep primal roar of pain sounded out from the deeps. As one their heads snapped downward as screams began ringing out. Seraph shivered, suddenly pale. As if that call had touched something in him, found a mate. "Sirloaz ... " he whispered, agonized. "What have they done!"

Before he could remark on this strange turn, their attention was caught as far down the stairs chaos ensued; duregar were everywhere, running, calling, fighting. "Sirloaz?" Valin demanded of his friend, a concerned expression on his face. "But how did they remove him so quickly? And we certainly can't fight our way down there, through every level, we'd be killed long before we reach him ---"

"If we want to reach him," Seraph whispered to himself.

Cyrus thought quickly. "They must have used a pulley system. In out mines we often have such systems to help transport heavy weights of metals." He explained hurredly. "Its quick and efficient; we could by pass all those levels and get to the centre of all this. It shouldn't be too far from here, if this is the leading point downward."

"Then lets go already!" Valin yelled.

*Ursa*

So Alden had found me at last. I chuckled at this. If you've never seen a bear chuckle, you're missing something. It really looks strange. And it sounds even stranger.

"So! Alden! Haven't you heard of a little exaggeration?" I nudged him playfully -- big mistake. Apparently gryphons have to be very light if they want to fly. He landed several meters from me and gave me an odd look. When he realized it was a joke, he flexed his talons experimentally.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hanging out with them." I pointed a claw at the royal elves, who were garbed quite nicely in royal gear. "They have food."

"Oh." He looked at me skeptically and then back at the jewel thingy he always kept.

Gryphons are worse than dragons. Dragons don't even cart off their loot any place else."

"So, are you leaving?"

I shrugged. Or did a bear shrug... don't ask me how that looks. "They have food."

For some strange reason, gryphons have smaller stomachs and larger honors. Don't ask. Anyway, they don't seem to grasp the concept of eating. Until, of course, you put a deer leg right in their faces.

Alden started drooling.

"Come on. Leave those losers. Come with us. It sounds more fun."

The elves gave each other a look that said, "Oh crap, we have to cart two more people?" But, when I glared at them, they were happy to oblige. "Yes, Sir Talking Bear!"

"Podgy," Alden said, a beakful of meat.

"Very well then, Sir Podgy... the big!"

Hahaha... not?

I did a bear shrug... whatever that looks like.

Cyrus was absolutely right--I made a mental note to buy him a drink when we reached Sedgeley.

The clever dwarf found the pulley system in short order, and quickly took a moment to acclamate himself with the controls. When he figured it out, he ordered Valin and I onto the platform. He followed quickly, and in not time we were level with the screams.

They were louder than ever, and only one of the many came from a human. We stood in the mouth of a long hallway, at the end of which was a wrought iron door. The entire hallway was lined with gold and gems of all kinds, and the door itself was a kind of grotesque piece of Banic art.

My right hand was still bare, having had been wrapped and splinted by Valin and Carmenia. I drew my longsword and switched it to my left hand.

"Ready?" I asked.

"No...you?" Valin asked.

"Not really," I muttered back. Before Cyrus could open his mouth to taunt us, the double doors flew open and a blood soaked Duregar came sprinting through it, down the hallway, screaming at the top of his lungs in the infernal language of the Dark Dwarves.

"He's mine," I said. Valin looked disappointed, and Cyrus looked ready to spring anyway. The Duregar looked as if it didn't even see us. When it was within five paces, I stepped forward and grabbed it by the throat with my right hand.

It's beady eyes were wide with terror, and it spluttered incoherently between split and bleeding lips. With every word he sprayed me with bloody spittle.

I lifted the thing off his feet, into the air.

"Go. Help Sirloaz," I told my companions. Cyrus had already started down the hallway, and Valin set off after him without a word.

"Look at me," I commanded the Duregar. Those yellow eyes focused slightly, staring into my eyes.

"...You..." it said in rough common.

"Give my regards to your master," I told him. He opened his mouth, likely to spit some curse at me, but his words caught in his throat as my fingers glowed briefly.

He began to choke as the veins of his face bulged and surged. My wrist began to heal, the bones mending themselves of their own volition. My ribs reset themselves and sealed over. Simultaneously, the brand on the back of my hand flared to life with black light.

I knew what was happening, but did not care. The Duregar must die. Bane must know I would not be his pawn.

Shadows of misshapen symbols traced themselves into my skin, radiating out from the symbol of Falthyr. I felt each one keenly as it drew itself, like a dagger was tearing through my skin. With one final exhale, the Duregar died. Even then , as if possessed, I drew its life force into me. It slowly began to dwindle and shrivel, its skin tightening around its bones, its eyes pulling back into its skull.

Then I felt the previous Runes, the ones I had obtained when draining Adrian, flare to life. The two sets had been connected. Together, they worked their way up my body, the pain ripping across my collar and up my neck.

As if from a dream, my vision cleared.

I dropped the Duregar, who was little more than a skeleton with skin pulled taught across its bones.

"Take that to your master." I spat on the corpse.

From up ahead, a surprised cry sounded out--it was Valin.

Pushing the doors wide, I was amazed to find that we had no been needed. Blood was everywhere. The walls, the floor, the many dozens of implements of torture...everywhere. And this was not stains of tortures past...this was dripping blood of a massacre five minutes old.

Sirloaz sat in the middle of the floor, blood soaked like the rest of the room. The corpses of a dozen Duregar lay scattered around him, few of them completely intact. One was missing an arm, another looked as if its eyes had been gouged out.

Sirloaz looked as though he didn't know where he was. His daggers lay within arms' reach, but he didn't seem to notice them. A crossbow quarrel jutted from his shoulder at an awkward angle, and his fists were bruised and bloody, with dozens of cuts and gashes on his fingers and palms, which lay face up on the ground.

"Falthyr's Hand...what madness is this?" I gasped.

"Dunno. Lad did a damn good job, though," came Cyrus' reply.

"He's losing blood. We need to get him back to the others while he's still conscious," Valin said.

"If...you can call that conscious..." I said.

Valin knew time was of the essence.

"We have to get him back to the main hall, and treat him, before he gets...worse" I said, quickly.
Seraph and I, being the closest in approximation to his height, hoisted hjim up to his feet, with an arm around each of our shoulders.
"Don't worry, Sirloaz, you'll be alright. We'll get you some healing, and everything will be fine," I could hear myself saying, but not really realizing that it was coming out of my lips.
As we passed towards the elevator, Cyrus spotted a Duregar that appeared to be merely a skeleton with it skin over it.
"What th' bloody hell, 'appened to tha' one, manling?" He asked. Seraph just grunted in a non-response.
We finallly got to the elevator, and Cyrus quickly did the pulley lowering us down back into the main floor. As soon as we touched ground, we got out as quick as possible and headed into the main hold.

Henry snatched up his crossbow and aimed it at the opening doors, ready to fire. When Seraph and Valin entered, carrying the prone and bloodied figure of Sirloaz, with Cyrus just behind, he had the fleeting idea of shooting Seraph in the forehead, but instead he was filled with geunine concern for the tracker, half-dead in their arms.

Finn and Carmenia stared over with horror.

"Wha' in all the Gods' sweet names 'appened to 'im?" Henry muttered in disbelief. Sirloaz looked like a demon. A shiver ran down the thief's back.

Henry caught a glance of Seraph, but the warrior said nothing, merely frowning.

"We found him ... along with many dead Duregar," Valin answered, lying the figure of Sirloaz onto the central table, clearing some of the chairs out of the way to make room.

"You killed them all, then?" Adrian asked.

"No," Seraph said softly, but said no more.

Henry was worried. Tan'quin and Adrian, the party's nominal healers, were both too injured to come over. The druid wasn't even awake. Carmenia had filled the job of rudimentary attendant several times, but her skills might not be enough. The elf nonetheless came over and looked over the battered body of Sirloaz.

Her mouth widened. "He ... doesn't look to good," she whispered.

"I got some leaves," Henry finally said. "They're precious t'me, but this is an emergency n' all." The thief fetched his pack and drew out some crumpled leaves from the side pocket. They were the same healing leaves that had halted the bleeding in his side. "My Grandmother was the firs' to make 'em, or so she said. They should help the bleeding to stop, if we apply 'em to all 'is wounds."

He passed a handful to Carmenia, and between them they started to press them into the smaller cuts and wounds. Henry grabbed a bit of old cloth from his pack and used it to wipe away all the excess blood away, leaving his hand coated in red. "I'm not bad at 'ealin and all," he whispered, mostly to himself, as he felt hopeleslly unconfident.

Death seemed written on all their lips, but nobody wanted to say it.

Sirloaz was dying, that much was certain. The crossbow bolt looked as if it had punctured his lung.

Henry and Cermenia were doing what they could, but it looked like they could only make him comfortable. The unfortunate ranger was conscious, but obviously delirious.

"He's back--he's BACK--" The ranger's ragged voice was full or ferver and panic.

"Don't talk, Sirloaz--you're making it worse..." Carmernia told the dying man.

Henry and the elf were working furiously to try to stem the bleeding, but to no avail. Sirloaz was fading fast.

"Lad took a good few of 'em with 'im though...good man, he was."

"Still is, damn it," Henry growled.

I'd had enough. I looked over to my shoulder, where Adrian was standing with his arms crossed, looking at the ground.

I strode over to the embarassment of a paladin and pushed my face inches from his.

"So you'd just let him die, then?" I demanded.

"I can do nothing..."

"You healed Henry, didn't you? And me--"

"You almost KILLED me. I cannot and will not do anything."

"What of your oath? As a Paladin, you SWORE to uphold good--SWORE to use your abilities to help those in need! You would just turn you back on this man, whom you've fought and bled with, because you are AFRAID?"

The paladin said nothing. He would not meet my eyes.

"Look at me, you coward," I ordered.

His eyes slowly rose to meet mine. His eyebrows narrowed in anger.

"Prove me wrong, Adrian. Heal this man."

His eyes narrowed even further.

"Very well."

He shouldered past me and strode to the prone body of Sirloaz. I nodded in satisfaction. In unlocking his anger, I had given him the confidence to do what was right.

"Stand back, everyone. Except you, Henry--you stay," Adrian said.

Everyone stepped back a little, but I pushed past Valin and crouched next to Sirloaz. Henry shot me a dirty look, but I ignored him.

Adrian looked at me, hesitating a little before examining Sirloaz.

"Break the quarrel--we need to push it through his shoulder," Adrian said.

Henry reached out tentatively, but I grabbed his hand.

"Let me, Henry--please." He glared, but yanked his hand away.

With a quick flex of my fingers, the shaft broke--and blood spurted from the wound due to the sudden movement.

Immediately, Adrian put his hands over the wound, straightened his back,and closed his eyes ion concentration. Sirloaz screamed in pain, his breaths ragged and rapid.

"Come on...come on..." Henry muttered.

After more than two minutes of Adrian's touch, Sirloaz was not much better. The wound was too grievous, and the wound was closing too slowly to stop him from dying in a moment.

Adrain pulled his bloody hands off Sirloaz' chest and let out a cry of frustration.

"I can't do this."

Reaching out to him, I grabbed both of his hands in mine and set them back on the wound.

"Do it. Save this man."

I knew what I had to do. Regardless of the consequences to me, I had to help save the this man's life. I removed the gauntlet on my left hand, then placed it near the wound, careful not to touch Adrian.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Trust me," I said. Saying a quick prayer to Falthyr, I called upon the power of his crest, branded on the palm of my hand, to do its work. At first I felt a warmth emanating from my hands, entering Sirloaz, but then the pain came. I narrowed my eyes and gritted my teeth against it, even as the black mark of Bane appaeared on the back of my hand and spit forth its chaotic runes.

One too many bizarre things had occurred since I joined this group. Being captured by goblins could not, under any circumstances, be considered an enjoyable outing--and then Seraph's... well, whatever he'd done to Adrian--and Alden and Ursa disappearing like that.... Then the trap (Tan'Quin was still out cold, which was beginning to worry me) and the dooriggers or whatever they were called... and I still felt strangely sick whenever I looked at Seraph, that weird tingling feeling....

And now Cyrus, Valin, and Seraph had returned carrying a half-dead Sirloaz and talking about some sort of single-handed massacre on the quiet tracker's part. Finn turned so that her weight was on her right hip and dragged herself like a kitten across the floor so that she could get a better view of what was going on. The leaves that Carmenia and Henry were applying didn't seem to be doing anything, and even with my sturdy stomach I was finding it hard to look at Sirloaz too long.

It was too much. Once we got out of this--if we got out of this--we were headed for Sedgeley. I'd had more than my fill of adventure for this lifetime, and I missed my brother more than I had time or energy to think about. I--yes. I would stay in Sedgeley when we got there.

Out of the corner of my eye, then, I saw Seraph approach Adrian, argue with him briefly, and follow the Paladin back to Sirloaz's prone body. Adrian put his hands on the wound like he'd done with Sirloaz, but it didn't seem to be doing much. When he was about to give up, Seraph forced him to put his hands back in their proper place, then ripped off one gauntlet and put his hand on Sirloaz's chest as well. I lurched forward, paling, remembering the look on Adrian's face when he'd tried to heal Seraph, and got nothing for my pains but--well--pain. I bit my lip so hard that it bled, but managed not to cry out.

I think it was Henry who made to rip Seraph away from Sirloaz, but Valin jumped forward and pulled the thief back; even the agile thief was no match for such a strong elf. But... but this wasn't what I'd seen before, in the cave...

A look of surprise crossed Adrian's face, and he looked over at Seraph for a moment before leaning forward, redoubling his efforts. The skin on Sirloaz's face, which had been grayish before, was slowly pinking up again, though from this angle I couldn't see the wound. And Seraph--

The tattoos were back, crawling over his visible skin like--like--well, like nothing I'd seen before. And... no, my eyes must have been playing tricks on me. Thin, practically transparent wisps of smoke, almost more like steam, were rising from his armor.

"Seraph?" I murmured, my query going unheard as the others focused on what was happening in front of them.

Carmenia took a hesitant step backwards. What was happening? She had no idea what was taking place. It was just too much to process.

Was Seraph draining Sirloaz's life or giving his own? She looked away, trusting that the others would understand what was happening, and hopefully do the right thing, whatever it was.

Her breathing suddenly became shallow and in short little gasps. Death. She had seen it many times, her sister, and her mother.

Willing herself to concentrate on taking deep breaths, she dared to glance towards the circle of people. Seraph's tattoo's had returned.

Henry hesitated.

The runes were spreading like wildfire along Seraph's skin, and the thief could swear he saw black traces faintly on the warrior's neck, and even as Sirloaz's cuts and bruises and blood disappeared, he felt like something terrible was happening.

As Sirloaz was healing, Seraph was changing.

In Seraph's eyes, Henry could see a faint redness, and it chilled him to the bone. He suddenly realised what was happening -- instead of seaping life, like he did with Adrian, he was giving life back to Sirloaz! -- it was the opposite of what he had done before, but the runes were still spreading.

Henry couldn't stop himself anymore.

"No!" he shouted, and before Valin could grab him again, he dodged the Elf, slipping through his arms, and pulled at Seraph's back. The black writing had fallen across the warrior's face, reaching towards his eyes. "No!" he screamed in frustration again, and heaved backwards with all his might. Seraph was a tall, heavy man, and it took all of Henry's strength to rip his grip from Sirloaz and together they tumbled to the dusty ground.

Sirloaz gasped and breathed.

Seraph didn't. Henry untangled himself from the warrior. Everyone around was staring. Finn gasped, Adrian muttered something inaudible. Even Valin had nothing to say as they all looked at Seraph's face.

Sirloaz was healed, but Seraph ... Seraph was scarred.

Where before there was perfectly-formed eye on his left side, now there was not. Instead the skin was scrunched in a dark red bruised colour, like it had been hit inwards.

Seraph groaned. Henry pushed away from him and knelt beside the warrior, who was barely conscious. The draining had taken a lot out of him.

"'Ee's blind in that eye," Henry murmured, not daring to believe it. What horrible magic was this?

"Blind?" mouthed Valin silently, but then regained his voice. "Blind?"

He knelt, too, beside Seraph. "My old friend, are you awake? Talk to me."

Seraph didn't talk, but he spluttered, blood coughing out onto his armoured chest.

Seraph Coughed up blood spattering his armor, as Finn dragged herself over, grabbing another rag she wiped the blood off of his face as Valin checked his vitals. "His pulse is irregular, but the markings didn't take over" he said standing up.

"So 'e's 'onna be aright?" Finn asked looking up at Valin.

"We can only pray" he said looking up towards the top of the tunnel.

"Oy, What happened laddie?" cyrus said crouching down to stare Sirloaz in the face, yet his eyes were looking elsewhere, looking past the material world, deep in thought. "What happened" cyrus said again firmly slightly shaking Sirloaz back to reality. "Seraph nearly died healing ya, were it not for henry he would have" cyrus said jerking his thumb behind him.

"We need to know, what happened down here?" Henry said bluntly.

Sirloaz drew his knees to his chest and slowly rocking back and forth he started. "Unconscious, priest, duregar, killed, all of them" he spewed forth in an unrecognizable jumble of words.

"Its ok, they're gone they're gone laddie, tell us exactly what happened, slowly." cyrus said reassuringly.

"After you fell, i was knocked out, and bound." he said still rocking forth staring at the marks on Seraph's face. "A priest or mage of some sort, with markings like his, like Seraphs. Proceeded to ask me questions, didn't answer. Pain, unbelievable pain, thousand hot needles, mind being ripped apart." Moving his gaze to contact that of Finn's he finished. "Old memories, re-awakened, demon loose, He's back. Killed them all, laughing, merciless slaughter." He finished staring at the edge of the tattoos on the back of his hand and slowly uncurled himself and began to take off his armor. The leather peeling away with a sickening noise, revealing more and more of the weaving markings on his body.

Carmenia taking no more time begun to speak "I didn't think It actually meant any thing at first." she said softly as most eyes turned towards her demanding an explanation. "When i was dressing his wounds earlier, i could understand what all the markings on Sirloaz meant, but i dismissed it as just my imagination playing tricks on me."

"Well what's it mean?!" cyrus said impatiently.

"He has a demon inside of him, sharing his body, and taking control when ever he experiences deep emotional pain. Such happenings can only occur when they are first born, a pact with the devil must be made; one soul for protection. His mother must have been a witch and made such a trade." She said staring down at the ground. "The torture must have brought up old memories past which brought up the demon before, bringing it out again; but now with Sirloaz in such a delicate state, his mind scattered, his mental barriers broken, the demon is free to do what it wishes."

From my vantage on the floor, with my wounded ankle held out stiff and still as possible to avoid further injury, it was difficult to see any of what happened; Henry broke out of Valin's grasp and pulled Seraph away, I know that much. A moment later, a gasping breath broke out, and Cyrus and Carmenia rushed to join Adrian at Sirloaz's side, while Valin quickly knelt by Seraph, who I could only see was very still. Henry stood between them, pale but stoic, his stance defensive with spread feet and clenched fists as though expecting an attack from any angle.

That cold feeling was back in the pit of my stomach as I began to crawl (painfully) towards where Valin knelt. I bade myself ask Henry if he had any leaves for warding off sickness as well as staunching the flow of blood; it wouldn't do me any good to get sick and die before we even got home.

All thoughts of funny feelings in my stomach and whether or not it was the right season for fevers left me when I came into easy view of Seraph. "Odds an' bloody embers," I breathed, moving forward as quickly as I could. The motion jarred my ankle, but for some reason it didn't seem to hurt as badly now as it had a few moments before. Blood had stained his lips and dribbled over his chin, and I could see it speckled on his armor, too, when I looked close; and those tattoos, and that eye! I flinched away for a moment, closing my own eyes in discomfort--both physical, as my ankle was still a cause of almost mind-numbing pain, and mental, because of the sight before me--before looking back. Without even thinking what I did, I hoisted myself up on my knees, biting my still-bleeding lip to stifle a cry, and grabbed a rag that Carmenia had been using on Tan'Quin to clean his face. I barely heard Valin's response to my question, and when I lifted my head instinctively to meet Sirloaz's gaze, it made almost no impact on me.

"Seraph," I muttered as I wiped the blood away, "I tol' ye not ta ge' ye'self killed, dinn' I? Ye fool. I'd hit ye, bu' tha' elf frien' o' yers'd pro'ly hit me then, an' I en't no great warrior like ye'sel'. 'E'd break me o'er 'is knee."

Alden sat at the table with the Elven leader.

"I'm Halin Norovir," he introduced himself. Alden frowned, the name sounded familiar.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"I think I ate too much too quickly," Alden said. "This is quite a celebration."

"We came to the mountain to kill goblins, but when we came, we found them all dead. You had something to do with this?"

"Myself and others."

"Who else?"

"Six humans, Ursa, a dwarf, and an elf," Valin said.

"Ten of you against one hundred of them?"

"That's what happened."

"They must be the best warriors in several realms," Halin said.

"Not really. They're just extremely lucky," Ursa said.

"Especially Seraph," Alden agreed.

"You mean Seraph Belfast?"

"You know him?"

"Only by reputation," he said. Alden wasn't convinced.

"So where is the rest of the group? I'd like to meet them."

"There currently in the caves below the mountains. We split from them, it didn't make sense to be down there," Alden said.

"So where are you off to?"

"Sedgeley," Ursa said.

"Algan, get my guests a map of the area," he said. "They're more accurate than your maps are and they show hidden passes that most men don't know about."

"Thanks." Ursa said, munching on another honeycake.

That was all they said of the group for the rest of the night. When the party was over, Alden and Ursa slept under the protection of the elves. When they woke up, the elves were gone.

OOC: Grif. Delete Post. Now.

OOC: Sab, check your PM box. The post hasn't broken any of the rules of the storybook, as your character isn't directly affected.

Unless you object to Alden eating too much.