Nathair Nimhe

Nathair Nimhe

DESCRIPTION

On the lee side of the Mythril Mountains, dominating the region between that toothy range and the coast, lies Nathair Nimhe. The sky above the swamp is coated an iron grey with rain heavy clouds, storms that couldn’t quite make it over the mountain range south of them. Rain falls in sporadic bursts, the fresh waters from the rain and the small mountain streams saturating the land until only small bits and pieces still stick up above the water line. Stagnant pools of water and slow moving streams coat the land and provide homes to the multitude of creatures there, the cool climate and the constant saturation keeping dead trees and foliage around for a very long time and filling the air with the scent of decaying plant matter. Strange cries fill the air during the night as various animals awaken and begin their hunt for food, crocodiles the size of buses croaking into the air, the splash as large catfish surface and dive back down. Bats flit through the air, and the air is thickly coated in bugs. Trees groan and crack as the Native Trolls begin their own search for food, shouldering their way through hanging moss. In the darker regions though, even more dangerous creatures lurk in the murky water. Those that have traveled to this region claim to have seen a many headed creature moving swiftly across the terrain, thick scales covering its’ back the color of the swampy water, and venom dripping from its’ mouth. There are many dangers in the swamp, but it is whispered that a trove of treasures is there for anyone to claim should they be brave enough. At the end of the Mountain Pass that one must take to enter the region is a small home, settled on the edge of a small canal. Little more than a 2 bedroom home with a front porch, it contains all that a one Damion D. Headley ever needs, as well as being a location to leave his bike while he is in the swamp.

LOCATION

North west of the Mythril Mountain range, against the coast and northwestern edge of the mountains

PEOPLE

Swamp Elves: Yes they exist. These flighty creatures range from 4 to 5 feet tall and their skin seems to be a distinct brownish green to better help them match their homes, nestled in the root systems of tree’s on the few ‘islands’ in their region of the swamp. Their hair is long and thickly clumped, resembling weeds when they hide in the water, a fact which they help further by adding twigs and leaves and other vegetative matter to their hair. Unlike their high elf brethren or forest elf cousins, Swamp elves are almost barbaric in their habits, led by a Shaman or Witch doctor, they fight amongst themselves in small tribes, fighting for territory with primitive shortbows and spears. Despite their lack of technology, few races can claim to have a greater understanding of stealth tactics in swampy regions or anywhere truly. Shy of outsiders, if they seem outnumbered or outstrengthed, these tribes have no issue with running away from the intruders into their realm.

CLIMATE

Due to the constant presence of rotting vegetative, the air is always humid and warm, despite its’ northern positioning. At night, the temperature drops several degrees, but never drops below 70 degrees Fahrenheit.

FLORA

Cyprus trees fill the landscape, thick root systems working their way through the water and creating small havens for little fish and other creatures to house in. Typical water weeds rise out of the muck of the water beds to the surface, bright flowers like lotus floating on lily pads throughout the region alongside river reeds that line the dry ‘islands’ in the swamp. Spanish moss hangs on long drags from the tree branches, in some place obscuring vision completely, and small berry bushes cling to life along the water lines.

FAUNA

Trolls: The trolls live primarily in a region to the far east of the swamp, along the coast, where a great hole in the ground lays. While not extremely intelligent, the trolls are hardy and powerful while still protecting their territory. They do not roam far from their hole, and seem to be the only creatures that Jormungandir the Hydra tolerates.

Giant Crocodiles: Exactly what they sound like mates, crocs’ the size of buses. Not entirely unkillable, but good like sneaking up on the ********.

Giant catfish: Not to be a broken record, but more of the same here guys, big damn catfish that live in the deeper pools, 10 to 16 feet in length with mouths large enough to suck in small children whole. Wouldn’t go swimming if I were you.

Giant Snakes: As with most watery regions, you have a nice mix of poisonous moccasin style snakes and giant crushing pythons. Generally not dangerous, they run from creatures bigger than they, but when antagonized they will attack.

Creeping Eaters: Odd creatures who seem to be a mixture of animal and plants. Vaguely humanoid in shape, they seem to be masses of vines wrapped into the shapes of arms and legs, with thorns extending from the fingertips and toe-tips. They possess no mouths, but instead feed on their prey like plants, draining nutrients from a corpse and then moving on. Luckily, they are not numerous or particularly deadly to the average Gaian.

Jormungandir: Where this creature came from no one is honestly aware, but that it is dangerous is undoubtable. From nose tip to tail tip the Hydra is the length of 2 charter buses and all muscle mass. As of now, 8 heads dominate this creature, writhing through one another as they search for intruders and food. It’s den is the deep hole in the center of the Troll lands, and it is there that many treasure hunters find their doom in its’ fangs. While such creatures are normally very dangerous, Jormungandir seems that much more so, a vile intelligence driving it and guiding it in fights and life, while also helping it to live far beyond what any Hydra should. Damion can sometimes be seen riding this creature in seeming patrols.

RESOURCES

Aside from creature bones and decaying plant matter, there is little to be harvested in the swamp. Legends of treasures unfound bring groups of treasure hunters occasionally, although most that enter don’t return to speak of what they found. Those that do tell of the Hydra and of a man shaped creature that dwells there now.

MYTH/LORE

It was said that in the past the Swamp was a thriving city of elves, with their own imports and exports and gods all their own. They grew very powerful, as elves were want to do, and very soon their chief god became as corrupt as they were, wallowing in their own self importance until at long last their god seemed to abandon them, thrashing in his home below the temple and bringing the city crashing down with it. Waves roared in, rain fell as a deluge upon the land and soon the ground was flooding with the waters of the sea and sky, and the people were lost. Some remained and their story was lost, but the remainder became the Swamp Elves, and they seem to know more than they are willing to tell. Who this God is or what treasures are buried below the swamp, no one knows.

Strange Bird calls floated through the gently steaming air, adding a chorus all their own to Damion's movements. He had done quite well so far, the water feeling welcome on his skin and the few times he had to climb onto land and move he moved with a preternatural silence, making little sound before moving back into the water.

And it felt right.

For many creatures new to a realm, Swamps are depressing places, the smell of decaying vegetative matter an ungodly stink and the sounds of unseen creatures moving unsettling but Damion felt as if he was back home. He slid past giant crocodiles who sat motionless in the water, he hitched rides on the slow moving catfish that moved across the bottoms of the waterways, and he took his prey like the animals around him, bursting from the water in a sudden explosion of violence or slipping out quietly to sneak up on the small deer that called this realm home.

Those predators that did see him gave the elemental a wide berth, staying far away for fear that they would be next. Muck clung to his skin and leaves and twigs became tangled in his hair, and damion did not waste the time to clear them away, simply moved on deeper into the water realm.

He had not yet slept, the day passing swiftly it seemed although with the cloud cover it was hard to tell. He had no wish to see the sun, did not miss its' presence at all, and found momentary refuge in the deep shadows made from tree's or bundled under mounds of leaves. Questioning how he knew to act in such away was not on his list of things to do either, a fact in which the Dagon inside of him was well pleased and worked to keep.

It watched through his eyes, it tasted with his mouth and breathed with his lungs, returned to a world it had thought lost. The smell of decay was better than the smell of brimstone. The cut of branches was like the gentlest caress after the suffering caused to him in the levels of hell. To say that it felt affection towards Damion would not be wrong, but it was affection in the same way that a Master feels affection for his favored dog.

And so they crawled through the muck and the mud together, deeper to some unseen location, unthinking and uncaring at the moment.

Further on, the Hydra stirred.

" You'd think the sky would change or something..."

He spoke in low tones, crouched down low behind a trio of rotting logs, the decaying vegetation unmoved from where they had fallen. He had slept here the night before, and the tromping of heavy feet had woken him rather rudely. Then again, trolls didn't know much about Manners it seemed, and Damion was forced to peek over his makeshift cover for amoment, regarding the bent backs of the trolls across from him.

They were gathered around the now torn carcass of a swamp deer, the poor creature nearly stripped to the bone by their sharp claws and even sharper teeth. Up close like this, their skin was even more repugnant, appearing rubbery and wet, with odd pustules and warts jutting from their skin. Long greasy hair clumped together in strings and hung from their scalps, as if they had stuck weeds upon their heads in some weird camoflauge.

Damion sighed softly, his voice lost amidst the sound of flesh tearing and the wet smacks of the trolls. His instincts told him to leap out and attack, but something told him that wouldn't work with these creatures, they were too big and savage.

"Perhaps..." He began, before turning slowly, looking into the water with a smile. Down he slipped, sinking into the water as quietly as he could, disappearing into the murky depths as if he belonged there. Damions fingers found hand holds in the muck, gripping tree roots, bones from long dead and eaten creatures, and at times firm ground. Before long, he was just below the Trolls and their meal.

Despite the murk, his eyes could see almost perfectly, the dark depths revealing their secrets to him as he focuses on the muck around him, feeling it's shifting nature, how it conformed to nothing and took no shape of its' own. He would change that.

Green eyes closing, he pictured tentacles, rising from the depths, and the earth answered his call, the muck around him rising slowly in foot thick tentacles, slithering towards the sky through the water. As they neared the surface, they moved faster, erupting in a spray of filthy water, snaking towards the Trolls with frightening speed.

The creatures were taken completely by suprise, their yellowed eyes widening as the swamp seemed to rise up to devour them, their mouths gaping as trendils of muck wrapped around their arms and legs, dragging them towards the dirty water. Thick claws scraped in the mud, slashed through the tendrils, but to no avail as they were pulled under and silenced, dragged into the muck to die.

And in the depths, a creature stirred.

The stone walls were covered in slime, glistening black in the blue light that eminated from Damion's collar. He was alone down in the dark depths, his only companion his gem, the only noises the steady dripping of water from the corridors and the steady splashing of his own feet through the ankle deep water that filled the temple. The smell of salt water and decay hung hard in the air, almost choking the earth elemental with its' stink. For now though, even the splashing had stopped, Damion standing still in the arching doorway that led into the church area proper.

Rows upon Rows of stone pews were lined up on either side of the central walkway, once ornate and imaculate and now dark with slime and pitted with age. Water dripped from the high ceiling, falling the great distance to splatter on the stones. The once brightly lit stained glass windows were now dark with the muck that covered them on the outside.

" ******** me...."

His anti-freeze green eyes combed the high ceiling as the light from his gem went out, dropping him into darkness. Damion did not notice, the world around him still illuminated dimly, the world revealed in different shades of black and white. As his view drifted from the ceiling down, the stark white form of bone became visible.

The spine rose high into the air before dipping, diving down from near the ceiling to the stone alter down at the very end of the pathway. a full 8 more spinal columns arched into the air, each bent at a different angle to fan out, all 9 of the skulls settled around the alter with the centermost skull settled firmly on the alter.

A low whistle slipped from Damion's mouth as he started forward, the responding echo alien to his ears, the splashing of the water echoing back to him as a lower noise.

" It is here that they payed homage to me...here that they bowed before me in all my glory. I was their god, I guarded them, gave them direction, I led them and in return they venerated my most prized of servants, venerated me as a god uncompared, gave me regular sacrifices from the bounty of the sea."

The deep voice echoed from all around the elemental, Damion jerking and dropping to a crouch to look around.

" When my soul was removed and my body driven mad, the temple and city were destroyed. This is all that is left of my proud land. This is the first of my guardians, the first to guard me in my material form. Jormungandir took over when Asmodaius died here, to large to fit through the corridors anymore. As they were the guardians of my material form, I need not have a guard of my soul."

He backed slowly towards the altar, looking around the room with wide panicky eyes, hands grazing the mold covered pews on either side until with a thump he bumped back first into the skull of the Hydra, jumping upright.

" I languished in the hells, having to fight once again for my position as Lord. I burned, I bled, and I made others hurt as I did. And then, when I was finally in a position of comfort, you and that.....MAN pulled me out and forced a union between the two. But there is no use fighting over such a thing, you'd lose and I'd be sent back. So instead, you will be my guardian of the soul, as they are the guardian's of my body."

He didn't hear the soft shuffle or the whistle of wind before the club cracked into the back of his head. His knees folded and he crumpled twisting as he fell, eyes rolled up in the back of his head, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. He was at the mercy of the Deep Ones, those who had remained in the fall.

One second a drop. Each drop of water fell from the ceiling for exactly one second before hitting the ankle deep water that covered the floor of the library. He knew this because he had been timing it for most of the day, counting down in his head as he sat in a mold ridden chair, feet kicked up on the table infront of him, one crossed up over the other, and stared at the symbols on the page in his lap.

He had been sitting there for 3 days now. Damin was sure he should have been stiff by now, his stomach rumbling for hunger, his throat dry with thirst, but he felt nothing. His muscles did not ask for activity, his stomach was silent, and words flowed from his mouth like liquid silver. His arms were covered in black ink where he had been testing out the runes that made up his new book, each one possessing a single meaning, but each lacking the power they should have possessed. He'd come down here the day after he'd returned to the surface.

Which meant that each of those runes was atleast 3 days old.

A sigh, soft as a serpents hiss, slipped from his lungs and with a thunk his chair fell back to the floor, booted feet slipping into the water noiselessly. Whatever material they were made of seemed to aid in stealth, or perhaps it was just his newfound grace, but when he rose and walked towards the rows and rows of shelves, cubby holes, and scroll stands he was as silent as death itself.

His knives were stuck into the table he had left, their newly carved ends extending into the air like the fangs he had made them from. He was rather proud of them, the fingerholes perfect, the blade almost impossible sharp, and the weight easy in his hands. They too bore the same runes he'd been trying to put on his arms, although already these were a faint memory, melting away from the bone blade.

" What am I doing wrong?"

He was asking no one in particular, though he knew that one of the Deep Ones were around, a scribe who care for the books here. Damion knew he was doing the runes in the proper fashion, each angle as close to perfect as could be. But something was lacking. The runes he had seen Maximos make contained power, exuded an aura that let you know they did something. His were lacking that and he couldn't quite understand why.

" ******** it..." Damion snarled, slamming the book home into its slot and stalking away from the shelf, retreiving his blades from the table with a savage yank, splintering wood accompanying him as he walked away through the water. " I'll just kill things the old fashioned way." He muttered, spitting off to the side in his anger. The wall sizzled where his saliva hit, small wisps of smoke rising into the air as he strode on.

He would try the runes again later, he needed some way to occupy himself down here, until he felt it right to leave. His footsteps carried him through the labyrinthian halls beyond the Cathedral, putting his arms behind his back. " I'm the priest-guardian to a god of secrets, I should be able to keep myself occupied!" He suddenly roared at the ceiling, eyes alite with anger, hands clawed into the air. " This interment is unbearable!!"

He stood in the middle of the hallway like that for amoment, glaring at the dark ceiling before he resumed his original stance, hands clasped behind his back, a calm look on his face. One deep breath, and he began to walk again, heading towards the cathedral. He had to get out of there, it was driving him crazy.

" I think that's it..."

Damion ruffled through his small bag for what felt like the 13th time, making sure he had everything he needed. There was his money, there was a small bit of food, and that was it. Why he had to ruffle through it so many times was a mystery, but it felt like something was missing. For amoment, he simply stood there, scratching the back of his head in confusion before like a lightbulb going out it hit him and the Guardian spun on his heel in the water, walking over to the rows of maps against the wall. There had to be one that was updated amongst the bunch, and he pulled out the newest looking scroll.

" There, that should do it."

He smiled in his triumph, glad to have this momentary excursion out into the human world for abit. He'd have to come running back, but time out was time out.

Without much further pause and with all due haste, he scooped up his bag and swung it onto his back, letting it thump once before he was racing down the halls, running towards the chimney that would lead him out. He raced past corridors, black and white blurs, heading towards the dimly illuminated tunnel.

He didn't slow as he approached the wall, running up the edge for 2 steps before grabbing one of the many vines, using it to continue up the wall, heading towards the circle of light, his smile still wide and shining in the dim light. He'd only been out once since he'd come to the swamp, and that had been a short visit. This trip would likely be 3 days long. The swamp can fend for itself, he thought, yanking himself over the lip of the chimney and onto solid ground, taking off at a dead run once again.

The further he got from the temple, the softer the ground became, his strides extending as the ground tried sucking him down, muck flying out behind his steps. He cleared the stagnant pools of water, hitting the ground at a dead run. Tree's and branches were just obstacles, and the remade guardian dove through, between, and over anything he couldn't avoid outright.

It was excilerating, to put his body through such a test. Even if he wasn't fighting, it was amazing to be able to move like that. Before, he'd never be able to move in such a fashion.

Damion sat, high above his swamp, upon the branch of a tree, his legs kicking gently below him as he stared out over the expanse of grey and brown, no green in his rotting world. On his lap was a book, the thick leather cool to his fingers, despite the fact that it'd been out of the library all day. A red ribbon held his place in the book, and a sharp runic language was scrawled across the cover in shifting colors, deep reds and purples that hurt the eyes when you stared at it for too long.

Deep shadows rested in the Hydra's eyes, speaking of long sleepness nights, his exposed ribs speaking of nights, possibly days without eating. His heart was troubled, his mind so chaotic that it felt more like it was filled with cotton than brains. A thin blue smoke trailed up from his right hand, rising into the sky to join the clouds. Every so often he would lift the hand to his mouth and a bright point of orange would flare for amoment. Bugs that got too close to his body swirled lazily before falling to the ground far below.

His antifreeze green eyes remained focused on a far off point on the bright orange horizon, the only color aside from the iron grey of the clouds.

" So ronery..." Damion murmured for amoment before chuckling softly, bright white teeth revealing themselves in a wide smile, his canines elongated in a way that made the smile feral, hungry almost. Was he lonely? Perhaps, but it was more than that. His body had slowly begun to lose feeling, things that had once brought him pleasure lost, all but the adrenaline pump of combat. Even the Black Lotus extract he was smoking did nothing, his healing so advanced it killed the poison before it could so much as harm a single cell.

His throat burned with the smoke though, and the bright orange of the horizon hurt his eyes, reminding him that he could still feel things. Perhaps all this was brought on by what he was reading, this strange book of eldritch magics and pacts that could be made with elder creatures, strange mutations and the horrors that might come. Depressing stuff whatever way you looked at it.

" Pfff...." with a contemptuous flick, his cigar went flying through the air towards the water and earth below him, the swamp swallowing up whatever he didn't want anymore. Below him, the tree groaned, deep indentations left in it's rotting bark where some great force had impacted. There were specks of blood left on the wood, bright red against the black, still wet thanks to the atmosphere.

Each breath rasped painfully in his chest, muscles burning with the strain of movement, sweat fighting to cool his body and dripping from his hair and nose. Arms pumping, feet thumping, he ran from island to island, using the Cypress roots of his water logged realm. No animals ran from his presence, he made no noise after all, and the water remained undisturbed by his passing.

A leap and his hands gripped a low hanging branch, letting his momentum carry him up and a kick of his legs send him thumping to the ground lightly, the tips of his feet digging in to get him moving again. He dove over logs, twisted between trees and launched himself into the trees to span gaps he couldn't jump over normally.

Damion didn't stop until twilight came, the dim darkness of his chosen home no problem to his eyes, color lost in favor of hard whites and greys, every object outlined for his eyes to see. Home was still a ways away, but he became a black blur, darting from cover to cover with the speed of a striking snake, diving and rolling to get behind trees, slithering into the cover of bushes on his body, sliding into the water and emerging again in sudden rushes, throwing sudden flurries of kicks at imagined enemy's.

His fists would blow chunks from rotted trees as he struck them on the run, hitting them in series without stopping. His knives became spinning blurs, leaving jagged grooves in the hard wood and throwing splinters into the sky where they twinkled like small stars in Damion's vision. The elemental dove through Troll camps, sending the idiotic creatures into flurries of motion until he was gone and running again, moving ever closer to home. It wasn't until he saw the warm glow of his home that Damion slowed, the small bits of glowing mold he kept to light the building throwing light back into his world.

His feet slowed until he was walking again, mouth hanging open to allow more air to flow, hands ontop of his head to allow for more chest expansion. Sweat ran down his body, finally allowing it to serve its function, his body cooling at a rapid rate, steam rising from his body in clouds. But on his face was a sliver of white, a self satisfied smile permanently focused on his face.

The arrows made a hissing noise as they sliced through the air, cutting through the foliage like angry wasps. The whicker man that had been set up began to erupt into peices as the arrows shattered the supports, arms spinning free to the ground, shattering even further.

As the two arrows quivered in the trees behind the makeshift target, another two erupted through the torso, sending the upper half to the ground in a shower of dry twigs, thick arrows quivering in the 'spine' that had supported the body, splinters sticking out of the broken dowel. For moments, noting moved, no sound was made until Damion slipped out of the underbrush, a bow of bone and sinew held in his left hand. Made from the spine of a shark and the sinew of the hunting cat, The bow had the power of a longbow, an extension of bone giving Damion a place to set an arrow as he aimed it.

The weapon reflected light like ivory, sucking in the light and gleaming gently. A quiver of arrows rested over his back, multicolored feathers fletching the darkwood arrows, their stone arrowheads safely nestled down inside the sharkskin quiver. " Hm....not bad..." He muttered non commitantly, yanking the arrows free and slipping them into his quiver again, he tips just as sharp as when he had fired them.

Such was the gift of an elemental.

With a sigh, he turned towards home, moving along slowly and carefully, melting into the background like a ghost. His footsteps made no noise at all in the underbrush, slipping around the few dry branches that had fallen. But these were few and far between.

Felix flew heels over head and slammed into the bulkhead as --

BANG!

As fire blossomed --

Bang!

As fire --

Bang!

Damion lifted his head with a snarl, the silence that filled his dank and dark home broken rudely by a noise unfamiliar to its halls. The man sat as he normally did in his reading time, feet kicked up on the rotting table infront of him, a stone chair angled perfectly to keep him upright, and his book settled on his lap. He would sit there for hours in the silence reading, so wrapped up was he, but that silence that made focusing so easy had been broken by the incessant banging from the halls, the sound of crumbling stone a faint trickle to his ears and a deep impact in his mind.

" Who...dares enter my home uninvited?"

This was a rhetorical question, there was no one to ask after all. Booted feet sliding from the table to the stagnant water that covered the ground, a soft splash the only noise in the room now. His black pants just barely floated above the water, untucked from his boots, but even these made no noise as he walked, stepping from the vast library with a glare, peering up and down the hallway. Voices floated too him from the distant darkness, not the soft silibant hissing of the Deep Ones, but rough voices, voices belonging to men, voices belonging to thieves.

" I did not invite them..."

His frown deepened, turning his face into a snarling mask.

---

" Cor, can't make it qvuiet could yuz?" Lional hissed at the larger of his companions, crouched down on the other side of the crumbled stone entrance with knife drawn. Dress from head to toe in brown leather armor, he made quite the image of the wandering treasure hunter, the empty pack on his back just waiting to be filled. But these were secondary notions, if he even thought about it at all, and he was currently more concerned with waking up the entire temple thanks to his companions efforts.

" Well if you had found an easier entrance!" The larger of the pair growled back, his teeth bared in a snarl as he stepped over the crumbled stone blocks that had once been a wall, hammer held tightly in a double grip as his eyes swayed back and fourth. The darkness was complete however, and his normal human eyes could not peirce the deeper darkness of the halls, the sun rod tapped to the haft of his hammer lighting up only a small portion of the room.

The two men had heard of this place in a bar, as most adventures start out, lured with the promises of a gold filled temple, where the dangers were few and the traps nonexistant. It had all seemed too easy, but already the prize seemed hardly worth it, the group of 4 that entered down to 2 at the end. Trolls had killed one of their group, while another was dragged into the water by some weird plant tentacle. But the lure of gold is strong on the hearts of men and still they plunged on until they had reached the temple.

So far, of course, the place was not living up to standards, the mold covering the walls hiding only stone, no gold, and as they moved deeper into the halls the room they found were filled with rotting tombs, bodies, and furniture. The smell of the place was enough to turn your head right around, the rank stench of fetid water and rotting wood and biomatter. The two men were becoming increasingly frustrated the further they walked on, no treasures to be found and their own company to keep.

Lional paused in the entrance to another room, looking back the way they had come with a frown. He could swear that something had moved out in that deeper darkness, a flicker of shadow deeper than that around it.

" Hey, hold on Cor, I think I saw something."

Cor stopped in the middle of flipping over a small cot with his foot, the rotting cloth and wooden tearing and breaking ontop of his foot. Snarling and muttering, he walked back to his partner, the sun rod strapped to his hammer flickering as the magic started to die. " What is it?"

" There, shine your light there."

A brief ruffle of movement and the light was suddenly funneled like a flashlight, lighting up into the distance. Their path was suddenly thrown into sudden brilliance, as was the man who stood in the middle of the hallway, hands clasped behind his back and a look of frank annoyance stuck on his face. His skin was the color of dried mud, made all the more startling by the black clothes he wore, the vest on his torso open to reveal a muscular chest and stomach, no hint of scarring there. Even from a distance the green eyes of this sudden apparition were bright and angry, Antifreeze green and flickering, and the scarwork around those sockets was thrown into gleaming brightness even in the flickering light.

Both theives jumped as one, Lional's hands moving from the sun rod and throwing their range of light back into the immediate area. The man down the hall was thrown into darkness again, but only for amoment as first one black booted foot then an entire body stepped into the light, arms still clasped behind him.

" Who are you?"

The two treasure hunters were thrown to silence, mouths agape as they stared at the man. Across his torso the heads of snakes seemed to writhe and wiggle with his movements, and somehow it seemed they were all attached somewhere behind the man.

" I asked you a question gentlemen. Who. Are. You?"

Even as each word was spaced out, they didn't seem to be ready to answer, Cor's jaw working slowly before Lional beat him to it, "Who are you?!"

" That was rude, don't answer my question with one of your own."

There was a tinge of anger in the mans voice, something insidious that flowed through the words and gave them more life than they may have deserved. The smaller of the hunters shuddered and moved back, while the words seemed to have the opposite effect on the hulking Cor, his teeth bared in a snarl as his grip tightened on his hammer.

" ******** off! This is our treasure!"

" Your treasure? No, this is my home. Infact that is my guest bedroom you just entered, uninvited and unwanted."

The pair stared at the man, jaws agape. This was his HOME? No one had mentioned this temple possessing any kind of owner or guardian, and Lional was at quite a loss of what to do. Luckily, Cor was not burdened with an overabundance of brains and to him the course was quite clear, his hammer drawing back to swing before his diminutive ally could call for his pause. Roaring a battle cry, he swung with all might for the brown skinned man, muscles corded and straining.

Thus it was abit of a suprise when he hammer smashed first into the wall and stopped dead, a crater left where it had impacted. The guardian, however, was untouched, seemingly unsuprised at this course of actions. Infact he had even moved, arms brought to the fore, a curved sword held in each hand. the blades seemed to be pitted with rust or dirt or something equally fowl, but in the poor light it was hard to tell.

Lional blinked, wondering when the swords had appeared. What he did know was staying around was not in his best interest, and that gave his feet wings, sending him deeper into the darkness as all rational thought fled him. He didn't even turn when Cor's breath was released in a gurgling sound, the harsh splatter of liquid on solid a counterpoint to the hissing of air that stopped all too soon. His feet splashed through water and slipped on slime covered stone, his breath a harsh rasp that echoed from all directions back at him.

Lional ran until his legs cramped up, long since lost in the labyrinth of turns and rooms. Finally he stopped in a large chamber, what he thought might be the center of it all, standing next to a row of pews. Slowly he moved through the room, looking over his shoulder at every opportunity. A dim light trickled down from the ceiling, affording him enough light to maneuver by, the only room that had so far. His nose was bloody, his body bruised from running into walls, impacting corners, tripping. At long last he could go no further, collapsing in the pew closest to the pulpit, panting heavily and holding his sides.

How had the job gotten so botched? Lional couldn't understand where the man had come from, or how he could possibly have beaten Cor without so much as a struggle. With his head down like that, he couldn't see the dark skinned man enter the room, moving slowly up the center of the pews, silent as death. Behind him followed a procession of figures clad in black, their hands clasped together and hidden by their robes. As he stepped past the man, Damion reached out, tapping his shoulder, " You'll miss the best part."

Lional looked up with a start, eyes widening as the robed figures took up seats all along the pews, gleaming eyes peeking out of their hoods and wet, whistling breaths sound behind and beside him. A warm wetness began to spread across his lap as Lional whimpered, his eyes tearing up and his hands gripping the stone seat tightly. Damion moved up until he stood behind the pulpit, looking down on the assembled masses like a proud father, the soft smile that spread across his face making him look happy and hungry in equal turns.

" To those gathered, the benevolent father smiles down upon us. We gather for the knowledge HE brings. We are his faithful, and we give unto him our lives and our minds. But there is one amongst us who is unwilling to give up such things. The worship of our father is not something you can go back on, and so we must offer him unto the Dagon, that he will render judgement."

Damion stopped, pausing almost, before sighing, " Bring up the intruder."

Cold clammy hands gripped Lionals arms, and he screamed. He screamed for a very long time.

The swamp shook with powerful footsteps, waves for the first time rippling across the water that stood in pools and birds flying into the sky in fear for the first time in ages. Trees screamed and shattered and a terrible path was layed out behind the walker itself, broken vegetation and huge footprints littering the ground. Thus it was no suprise that the possessor of such might feet towered well over the tree's, a literal giant in man shape.

Broad shoulders smashed branches off the upper sections of trees, massive hands ripped then from the ground to be tossed behind. The thick, rocklike skin ignored the predations of the swamp attempting to defend itself, sharp tree trunks stuck out where they would be stepped on and then ignored as the giant pulped them. Car tire sized eyes gazed hungrily forward as if it could see its' eventual goal already, driving deep into the heart of the swamp. So it would miss the shadows that followed it, two forms of unequal size moving effortlessly through the swamp in a way the giant could not. With a trail the size of a city street, it was easy to track after the beast.

Both shadows melted into one for a time as they burst out of cover, the giant feline form of Rakshasa suddenly alive in the twilight gaze of the sun. The giant continued blithely on for several steps, until the feeling of being watched caused it to turn slowly, ponderously, a creature unused to looking behind it. It's mammoth head swung around slowly, a dumb expression on its' face before a wizzing arrow shot through one of it's eyes, peircing those dark centers in a sudden spurt of blood and eye juices. A voice like thunder burst fourth from its mouth and into the sky to give noise to its pain. The rider and his mount sped past the stumbling giant.

With a thunderous boom the giant fell to it's back, water spraying high into the air as the massive head smashed into a pool of water. On it's back, it was no threat to the demon rider, a second then third arrow whistling through the air, smashing into the thick skin of the humanoid being and drawing thick blood from the wounds. The giant howled in anguish, struggling to rise to its feet and face this new threat. Such a long lived creature, such a strong creature, had never found a being who cause it so much pain, and the task before it suddenly seemed daunting.

It seemed even more daunting when the massive form of Raskshasa barrelled into the rising creature, throwing it across the ground to wrestle with the feline demon, howls of pain and roars of fury rising from the tumble in equal measure as they rolled through the swamp, tree's crashing to the ground under their bulk, slow moving animals crushed to pulp. Blood collected in pools from deep claw marks on the giants arms and chest, Rakshasa's strong jaws clamped on its shoulder as more arrows whistled fourth, turning exposed areas into pincushions as black fletched arrows shot from a twanging bowstring.

The archer ran across the ground after the rolling pair, shooting as he ran until he could catch up. " Rakshasa, go!" And suddenly where there had been a cat there wasn't anymore, the Giants arms outstretched to grasp at the space it had been before The archer appeared before it, perched delicately atop one log thick finger, an arrow notched back. Both stood frozen for amoment before the arrow leapt forth, striking like a lightning into the blinded eye, driving the arrow already there deeper like a snakes fang, seeking brain matter.

Where the arrows touched decay set in, flesh falling to gangrene and infection even as the giant roared and swatted at its attacker, The nimble archer, rolling over the hand to loose another decaying arrow into the giant humanoid face, rotting away at its' cheek with the sickly sweat smell of rot. The struggles slowed noticably as the creatures thoughts came harder, the energy to fight back came less willingly to muscles that just didn't exist anymore, the poisonous arrows delivering their destructive payloads with all the accuracy of an elven sniper at work. Where moments before there had been a threatening monster, there was now nothing more than a feable child. The dark clothed archer slid down the body until wet ground set under its feet.

The mighty demon Rakshasa leaped across the broken ground to its master, slowing the nearer it got until atlast it stood before the humanoid figure. The archer stroked the mighty cats head, looking back at the dying giant for amoment before crossing to it's waist, prying open a satchel as big as a suitcase, spilling its contents onto the ground for him to sift through, the bow set in the ground like a staff while one hand shifted gold nuggets away from the bones of a recent meal.

At long last it seemed the figure had found what it was looking for, pulling it free and slipping it away into the vest it wore over a bare torso. Black marks writhed like snakes over its' flesh before with a grunt it leaped onto the mighty cat demons back, letting the creature carry it away from the rotting Giant corpse, sinking slowly into the swamp.

“ Are we there yet?”

The men were tired, their limbs exhausted after the long trek down from the mountains, but Krrl knew they could not pause to rest. This campaign against the Swamps to the south was important to their lord, and harsh punishment had already been exacted upon those who slacked off in his name. The 20 men around him however did not seem to share his fear of lord Baal, muttering and complaining amongst themselves as if this was their first time to war. He snorted at that, a weary smile crossing his face as he hopped over a boulder, careful to keep their banner from dipping down towards the earth. Their world was filled with the constant sounds of combat, the lord taking only the strongest of warriors from the tribes to live with him in the highest mountains. These men were just such people, killers and slayers in their own right, pampered in the halls of the mountain lord and sent down to crush the inhabitants of the northern swamps.

Briefly Krrl wondered what had happened to squads 1 through 4, sent out a week before for the exact same purpose. He had seen no runners returning to the gates, although they had seen the remains of camps set up on their way down. Even now, with the swamps edge clearly in sight, there was no sign of the other squads present. True, they were little better than the rabble he now commanded, but some discipline had to be maintained after all, right?

“Keep walking!”

The voice of their commander gave the men a small burst of sullen energy, their feet no longer shuffling, and each step taken carefully and with more speed than before. The space between the steep mountain side and the swamp itself was a barren empty space more than 300 yards across, a dead space claimed by nothing but the intermittent rivers and streams that cut from one side to the other. An archer deathtrap if there ever was one, but the Knights of Baal had no worries, fearless from either bravery or stupidity or some odd mixture of both. They trudged on beneath the banner Krrl held high, ignoring the random boulders that littered the ground as signs of their Lords favor. The very barren nature of the landscape could thus explain their shock when, halfway between both the mountains and the Swamp, they encountered the form of a man standing before them, a stone effigy of a knight in full plate armor, a sword stabbed into the ground before him and a shield resting against the blades hilt. With arms crossed over it’s chest, the knight appeared as a statue before them.

No lichen marred the stones, this was a fresh carving, and it bore even fresher scars, chips of stone busted away from the extremities, a dent set in the right arm. Someone had struck hard at this effigy and failed to destroy it, just as one of Krrl’s men was about to do.

“Wait!”

Too late, the muscular soldier was swinging his sword at the statue with all the strength his mighty muscles could manage, the strain evident across his back, the massive warblade whistling through the air with the collective gasp of the warriors gathered. For one blinding instant, the blade stood still, before with a sound like glass shattering it broke in half, pieces of steel shooting in all directions, impacting the ground like arrows. The warrior was left only with a hilt in his hands and the most dumbfounded expression on his face, his eyes fixed firmly forward at the space beyond the statue. What had caused such destruction, what could have shattered the warriors sword?

The statue had moved.

The left arm was now extended outwards, the heavy armor seemingly no hindrance to maintain that position as it remained frozen, hand curled in the shape of a C. A deep score marred the palm where the blade had cut in before being rebuffed and breaking.

“This land is my land,

No it’s not your land,

From the hill-capped southlands,

To the wave kissed north shore,

This land was made for me alone.”

Not only had it moved, it talked! The statues voice was low and solemn, no hint of emotion, reciting by rote words that fell flat to the ground infront of it as the stones ground together. The Knight bent at the waist, pulling the massive stone shield up onto one arm with a grunt of strain, the weight obvious on the humanoids arm. A yank tore free the stone sword, dirt dripping down off the blade before the knight pointed it forward, the tip gesturing back the way they came. Its message was as clear as day, they could not mistake what it wanted.

Which is likely why they pulled swords of their own, charging forward with battle cries of their own, swords swinging wildly over their heads and feet pounding hard. It was no secret that the Nathair Nimhe had a new guardian, but that the guardian could warp stone in such a fashion! Only Krrl gave this any thought, only the leader of these men, these barbarians, paused to wonder at the power before them. His men, in turn, struck as lightning, iron blades impacting on hard stone only to bounce away defeated, their weapons no match for the power of the very living rock. To his credit, the stone knight tried to defend himself, heavy shield and stone sword working in unison, defending, slashing, dropping men to the ground in heaps with each bonecrushing strike of shield or leaving men screaming on the ground as the sword severed their limbs.

Even so, the knight was not invulnerable, his armor dropping away in large chunks, revealing the fleshy person beneath it all. A paldron fell to a sword strike, the grieves over his legs collapsed from the strain and crumbled to the ground. Even his shield shattered under the strain, collapsing in one mass unit to break apart against the ground. Soon, only the knights helmet remained, supported by a straining neck. Much smaller, now that the armor was removed, and far less muscular than expected. In fact, he was built very much like an elf, far to slender to be a warrior from the mountains.

“Enough of this.”

One brown skinned hand reached up, gripping the bottom of the helmet for a moment before yanking it free, black hair cascading free. Damion’s hair had grown long, hanging around his face like a curtain, one antifreeze green eye peering out from the dark wave of hair.

“ Get out of my house.”

The elemental pointed back towards the mountains, right in the faces of those muscle-bound warriors, their mouths agape, eyes staring widely down at the man. Was he insane? Did he honestly expect them to leave? Apparently not, for even as he pointed the stone sword in his hand warped and shattered, splitting into two blades before their eyes, one for each hand. So he was prepared to fight! That was good, because they weren’t about to leave, at least not before setting fire to the swamp. They charged in, swords raised high and battle cries once more leaping from their lips, only to be cut short in wet gurgles. Where before he had been slow, now the Guardian of the Swamp moved with fluid speed, blades cutting throats or guarding against strikes with the same grace.

Even swarming him, the barbarians stood little chance as their strikes were turned against their fellows, iron blades cutting flesh while stone swords guided them down. Small nicks and cuts began to count up along his hands, leaving blood to trickle down over the stone blades, a grimace marring Damions face as he emerged from the press of bodies, Barbarians finally collapsing as they realized they were dead, blood collecting underneath them, sinking into the dirt. Like a vampire the earth soaked up the blood presented to it, taking life into it where none had been before and leaving the Hydra its’ champion.

And just like that, the only creatures left were Krrl and the Hydra, staring at one another from across the barren battlefield. Bodies littered the space between them, some whimpering and clutching at stump wrists, the rest laying limp in death, glossy eyes staring out in expressions of shock.

“ Go, go and tell your master I am here waiting for him.”

These words and these words alone floated across towards the dumbfounded standard bearer, his hands clutched around the wooden shaft reflexively, wide eyes fixed on the Guardians back as he ran for the safety of the swamp, black vest lifting up abit to flare out behind him. This left only Krrl on the barrens, left to his own decision. Go back to lord Baal and be killed for cowardice? Or quite both lands and head for the warmer southlands, where a man could find his fortune. It seemed a very clear decision.

The standard could be seen for many years to come, propped up against the kneeling corpse of a man gutted on his own sword.

200 yards now. The rough man shape of the morning had resolved itself into a rough manshape, the dull glintings of sunlight fixing themselves into the shape of armor, catching the sun as the figure moved steadily down the mountainside. The body was no different from the barbarians sent before, a hulking mass of muscle and fat seemingly slung together in the shape of a man, encased in rough iron armor to maintain the shape with smaller glints apparently trophies of battles yet past. No banner carrier followed this one, just a long fur topped cape, flaring out behind the man dramatically.

His finger tightened on the trigger slowly, a gentle creaking coming from the strained bone like wood as it struggled against the pull of the string. Each breath was slow and controlled, ruffling the dark brown and white banded feathers gently in the forced breeze, only the slightest shift registering in the bolt head. Spiderwebs glistened off the snipers body, long strands of spider silk glistening gently in the dappled sunlight, dew clinging to webs were white spiders rested, content to sit in the warmth of the sun.

100 yards now, he could see features, make out the pits of eyes, the red curve of a scar looping its way from jaw to eye where some creature had struck a cruel blow. The armor seemed even more roughshod now, peices of metal slapped on and battered into shape around the hulking body, waves of bulk leaking out from the overtight armor. The mans hair receded from his temples, creating a curve that those Antifreeze green eyes could focus on, the bolt head shifting up slowly until it pointed just slightly above the focus.

One breath.

:wait:

Two breathes.

:wait:

No air reentered the lungs of the sniper, locking up tight to keep his aim steady as fingers squeezed on the trigger and stock, a sonorous thump coming from the string as pressure was released and bolt was thrown, whistling through the air. Feet, Yards, both disappeared as the bolt sped through the air before impact, a dull whack like one would expect from a melon breaking. The approaching giant jerked with the impact, lurching backwards with eyes focused at the sky, backpedaling for one, two steps. The shot was perfect, only feathers extending from the side of the mans unarmored head.

Legs collapsed from under the body, the sound of metal clashing on metal rising in a horrible cacaphony. Flesh rotted where the bolt had touched, turning grey with rot, eating away to reveal bone and blood below at a terrifying rate. Within minutes, only a blood drenched skull rested at the end of a flayed neck, the poisons limits not extending into the body core itself. Damion lowered his crossbow slowly, webs coming loose from his body where spiders hurried to cling, covering him in little white bodies.

" Good shot, if I may compliment myself."

A smile pressed its way onto his face, an allowance for a job well done. He wasn't sure why Baal had only sent one down to fight him, and so stupid an enemy, but he was glad for it. There were many things to take care of in the swamp, and taking care of the raiders was becoming abit of a pain in the a**. The elemental sighed, gripping the crossbow in his right while swinging down from his branch with the left. Practiced feet found footholds and sturdy branches as he made his way out of the tree, pausing only once.

Something new was in the air, some alien scent. He stood frozen on the lowest branch, every muscle tensed and ready to spring out. Damion was the coiled snake, scenting prey before striking. But even with his level of preperation, he was taken by suprise, knocked from the tree in a blur of motion. His breath was knocked out, black stars erupting infront of him as he bounced and rolled, the weight of the assailant gone almost as soon as he had hit the ground. No sign but the rustling of plants, no sound but his own hacking, labored breathing. He hadn't even seen the tail of whatever had hit him.

The crossbow had flown free, falling somewhere he couldn't see as Damion frantically tried to regain control, eyes darting as he gained a crouching position. His mind was awhirl, confusion clouding his ability to reason as he tried to figure out where his assailant had gone. He didn't have long to wait, bowled over with an impact from behind, burning lines of pain erupting along his chest where clawed hands grasped and tugged, the two bodies rolling over and over until they seperated in a rush, both dropped into crouches away from one another.

Dark brown hair crowned the creatures humanoid head, flaring out in all directions like a lions mane to frame tawny skin, a face sculpted much like Damion's own, both high boned and elven in shape, though the eyes were of an entirely different nature, shining gold to counter Damion's green. Dressed in a tight leather jerkin and loose brown pants, he regarded his prey with a smirk, white fangs just barely poking against his lower lip.

They circled one another slowly, each trying to read the other one, trying to guage their strenths. The air fairly crackled with animosity, aided by the sudden hissing of the outsider. When it seemed like they would circle once again, the dark hair outsider pounced, springing low with arms outstretched, catching Damion by his shoulders and digging clawed fingers into the flesh there before he was thrown free, Damion's foot colliding with the creatures stomach and sending it up and over.

Fresh blood ran down Damion's chest from long cuts across his chest. He had no time to worry about the damage though, spinning around to lash out hard, hammering a foot out towards his attacking foe, the outsider ducking under the attack to tackle the Hydra back to the ground, stradling his waist in a rush. Their hands strove for purchase, Damion trying to throw the creature off him while the other tried clawing him with the thin, curved claws that sprouted from his fingers.

Damions head jerked hard, snapping forward once to spit a bit of saliva into his attackers eyes, the creature fleeing backwards in a rush, hissing and scooping at its eyes. He only needed the moment, before leaving the creature in the same position he had been in, looking around in sudden angry confusion.

" Show yourself you scum sucking Swamp lover!"

The voice was high, almost whiney in its tonal quality, but Damion didn't allow for it to last much longer, diving down from above like an avenging bird of prey, slamming his shoulder into the creatures back and rolling away to a yowl of pain from behind, the elemental taking flight. Despite the sudden impact, his assailant seemed to recover fast, the two soon playing a cat and mouse game. They darted across root systems, narrowly avoiding falling into the water.

Tree branches shattered where they kicked off, launching themselves through the air to fight in their passing. The air was alive with the sounds of combat, the two unconventional fighters trying to find the hole in their opponents armor, kicks and punches flying from extreme angles. Their breakneck speed didn't deter either of them from trying the most extreme stunts, cutting through tangled webs of swamp vines or tree branches, darting through them with a skill Free Runners would have envied. An island began to take shape ahead of them, the tree line thinning to nothingness infront of it, leaving only a long jump between the trees and the spot of land. Neither creature stopped or slowed, meerely moving away from one another until they hit that last step and jumped, twin blurs in the air.

They would close and clash like that, sudden flurries of violence from the sky like two warring birds of prey. Damions skin became covered in thin red lines, small droplets of blood coating his skin where they beaded up. The clawed humanoid jerked at sudden impacts where Damion's fingertips struck hard, brief yowls of pain providing a kind of music for their fight. As one they collided onto a small island, water rushing around either side of them as they grappled in the center. They rolled, crushing underbrush beneath them, wet muck clinging to their skin until they seperated and rushed back at one another, finding purchase and surging to their feet in the middle.

They locked, stuck in the classic 'strength test' pose, faces meare inches from one anothers, their teeth bared and the hard impact sound of flesh on flesh rising into the air. Just as swiftly as they had clashed, they seperated, weapons springing to hands in mellow white rushes before they clashed again. Savagery was the name of the game, the mountain dweller striking again and again to cause the most harm, as Damion strove to hit important spots and failing. Attacks seemed to come from everywhere to Damion, where he blocked one another seemed to spring up, slicing across his skin and leaving shallow cuts.

He pedaled backwards, trying to create abit range from his foe, searching for breathing room, while his foe followed after him, slender blade seeking holes in the Hydras' guard. Bleeding wounds opened up on his arms where the blade struck. A cuel smile spread on the attackers face, infuriating in its smugness. He wanted to wipe that smile from the creatures face, wanted to make it bleed. He lunged, stricking down with both knives as the serpents bite, feeling the deep impact of a while placed strike, a smirk of his own beginning to spread as a look of shock and pain overtook the Maned humanoid, atleast before he felt the burning impact of a strike, spreading wide along his ribs.

A warmth began to flow down his stomach, the source a place Damion couldn't spare a glance to. Keeping a straight face was next to impossible, a wince forming on his face, turning into a grimace of pain as they backed away from one another, the twin fangs of Damions knives coming free from the either side of the offending creatures collarbone, blood spurting free suddenly as the two began to circle again, cautious of the blood that poured from their bodies. Neither was willing to attack again, their limbs wavering even as they fought to stay steady.

A snarl from the other creature snapped Damion back, his vision swimming already from the blood loss. He jerked, knives shooting up to intercept an attack that wasn't coming, the humanoids back to him now as it turned to run, disappearing into the swamp itself, back the way they had come, leaving a blood patch on the ground where they had stood. The hydra stood still for long seconds, unsure if the fight was infact over, but unwilling to drop his guard just yet.

" What was that?"

His voice was breathy, the voice of a man much fatigued, and Damion stumbled hard, dropping to a knee. His strength was fading, the edges of his vision a fuzzy black as he crumpled slowly, unmindful of the gentle white spiders that began to cautiously crawl out of their hiding places, hundreds of them creating a carpet as they flooded onto the island. Their small, scooping mandibles fed the pools of blood into their mouths in sudden rushes, their chitinous bodies making a gentle rustling noise as they rubbed against each other.

Damion found the sound rather soothing, his head pressed against the ground as the spiders washed over him, feeding from the bloody cuts that covered his body, hordes of them covering the long gash that revealed his ribs to the world. He couldn't feel the flow of blood stopping, the tiny spiders crossing and recrossing across the wound, thin grey webbing coating the wound, covering it like a bandage. Red spiders covered the man, making it look as if some freakish blood golem had come to life, rising up on wobbly legs, floods of spiders pouring off him like blood.

The rustling was cacaphonous, filling the small clearing with the sounds of thousands of spiders moving as one, spreading wide around where Damion stepped, leading him towards the water. They acted as blood to the heart, flowing over and over to force the Hydra along until at long last he slipped into the water, leaving them like a pool of blood on the shore, watching as he floated out of sight, a small nest of the Blood Spiders resting on the elementals back like a new wound gouged into his flesh.

What did an armored lizard eat? Big bugs, maybe frogs or something? Damion wasn't sure to be honest, he'd never hunted for the things before now and he was quite sure they didn't eat spiders since all of his were fine. He also didn't know where the hell they roosted either, though he suspected a sunny place would be a good place to start, though the swamp wasn't possessing a large amount of such things. The constant overcast nature kept the sun from making an appearance most days. But there were places where the trees thinned out and the sunlight was unfiltered through their branches.

In these small clearings, the ground rose above water level to form small islands where animals could, perhaps, sunbathe. It was here Damion waited, nestled comfortably into the root system of a cyprus tree with his knees pulled up. The sun had set upon him once already, and with the rising of this sun told him he'd been there for....far too long. Sunlight filtered down onto the clear ground ahead of him, warming it slowly.

must have had a break in the cloud cover, Damion thought, or that wouldn't be happening.

His crossbow rested across his knees a bolt set into place but the string lax, left unlocked to preserve it. His hands rested gently on the stock as the elemental fought to stay awake, a slight tremor rattling the bolt in its' notch. He wasn't so good at remaining awake for long periods of time without some kind of stimulant, and gods be damned if this wasn't the most boring thing he'd ever done. He hadn't even seen any of the reptiles to prove that they'd be here!

Despite his grumblings though, Damion had already gotten half his work done, a full complement of gator teeth safely nestled away inside a hip pouch to be delivered onced he'd shot afew of these stupid lizards. His luck seemed to be holding though, the water was stirring in several places, black, longsnouted heads poking out of the water, scales glistening as they dragged their bulk out onto the shoreline. Each reptile was about the size of a golden retreiver, although the tail made them longer and their bulks were not nearly so large. Thick plates ran the length of their bodies as scales, each easily an inch or so thick at the largest sections and getting thinner the further along one went.

That still didn't answer what the hell they ate, but he could worry about that later. Their beady black eyes were unblinking in the sunlight, and the creatures themselves unmoving now that they had achieved nirvana in the form of sunspots. There were, now that they had stopped, 6 of them grand total, all in various states of repose now. Damion gently pulled back on the string, letting it click softly into place as he held his eyes on the armored reptilians. He had to put the shot carefully, otherwise he might ******** it up and have to chase the damn things down.

And he didn't want that.

Up came the crossbow, butt set against his shoulder as the guardian sighted down the fletching. One eye closed to allow for easier sighting, and his breathing began to slow, each pull coming in smooth and easy. Finally, they stopped all together before the bolt leapt from the crossbow, hissing through the air to stick from one eye socket, the shaft quivering for amoment before the creature slumped, its' fellows not realizing the hunter amongst them. Atleast, not in the time it took Damion to shift targets and reload, another bolt jumping free and out, snapping the creatures head sideways and breaking it's neck with a loud snap.

" Oh yeah...."

They ran then, 4 of them turning with great shuffling speed and diving back into the water, their long tails slapping the water top as they fled. It was odd to think of such creatures as fast, but there you had it. Damion uncurled himself from his hiding place, groaning in pain as his knees and back popped loudly and painfully.

" Frag..."

He hopped his way across jutting roots until he stood beside his kills, still stretching out the kinks and knots in his muscles as he stepped next to the creatures. They were huge, but it should be easy enough to skin them down with his knives. They were sharp enough after all. He knelt down to begin his work as the clouds passed over the sun again, casting his work into haze. Out sprang a fang, the crossbow set onto the ground beside Damion as he knelt and rolled the reptile over to reveal it's soft underbelly. The scales here were paler and squishy, but still stronger than skin would be.

The knife tip poked down against the underscales by the throat, pushing down slowly and gently but only managing to dimple the flesh there. The elemental was forced to put more of his weight into the pushing, the blade sliding in inch by inch until he guess it was deep enough.

" This s**t is tougher than it looks..."

Damion was sure by now that the creature was tougher than natural, that maybe his Gods reach was more pervasive than originally suspected. Each inch his knife slid was a fight all its' own, but soon stinking entrails were spilled over the edge, cast out into the water for animals to feed upon. It would take him awhile, but getting the skin away from the muscle was an easy process atleast. They parted with a ripping sound, the horrible stink of the creatures carcass blocked out by Damion's filter nose. More incisions were made, but soon he had a large expanse of reptile skin layed out along the ground. Unrolled like that, they were bigger than he thought.

" ******** hell..."

He whiped sweat from his forhead, flicking it off to the side as he moved over to the next carcass, performing a similar surgery to it until atlast he had two skins layed out next to each other, a full hour having passed since their deaths. The elemental reached back behind him and took a pinch of some dark powder from one of the pouches in his kit, sprinkling it like pepper across the blood sticky skins, watching as it began to speed up the drying process, the blood lumping together like drying putty, drawing together in clumps that he flicked off with his knives, scuttling around the skins like some odd, no claw having crab.

Cut. two blades slicing through the air, scissoring the space between in a flash of halflight to be followed by the hiss of something sharp moving at high speeds. Around they pulled, one to either side, one stabbing out while the other spun in tanned fingers like a baton before they switched roles. No tip sought flesh, no blood sprayed the crisp air or splattered out across the moist ground.

Spin. The dancer spun, blades spinning in unison while feet danced across packed earth like a tribesman. Down both swords went, cutting straight down like an executioners axe as the melded into one long blade to be clutched double handed. Dirt burst upwards in a spray before flying out again as the dancer spun again, twisting his hips and feet to go back the way it had come and pull the blade free of the constricting earth.

Solemn tip whistled through the air, cutting nothing but the wind as both fighter and blade danced. It had been a long hibernation, that dark time when the world was cold and sleep stole the hours away. He had slept through it in the darkness of his temple and found peace in the dreams he had been gifted with, dreams were the sun shined eternally and warmed his scales, where happiness was as simple as snatching prey from the ground or finding just the right sunning space. All dreamers wake eventually, and the reality of Damions life was much harder to fathom from the opiate of his mind.

His muscles ached and burned with the strain of activity, the morning not even half gone. Damion felt as weak as a newly hatched egg but refused to give up just yet. The sword danced on still nimble fingers, the memory of his trade not yet forgotten as the sword stretched and bent, a spear now twirling through fingers the color of dry dirt. Around it came, tip stabbing out to break the bark of a cypress tree, splinters of wood spraying out from the contact point before they were joined by others. Like a murderer, the blade end sought contact again and again with the wood like a body. Holes stood out vividly against the dark skin, whitish inner 'flesh' stark in the half-twilight of the swamp.

His hands ached now, the strain of holding the spear up almost too much. One step, pivot into a spin and then jump, the spear cutting in a rising arc starting from behind and ending far from infront of him. The blade end slapped the ground, bouncing as Damion himself crouched and stepped in, hands sliding to releave the strain on his muscles, catching along the shaft halfway with one hand remaining low, pushing up on the lower end.

His back arched like a fish leaping from the water, feet gliding along the ground as the spear stabbed out. The lower arm pushed forward hard, stone sliding through the circle of his higher grip fingers. Bare feet caught the ground, then slipped, toes struggling to grip at the ground before failing again, the slip turning into a hard fall. The hydra rolled over along his back, dropping spear and dignity in his attempt to rise again. Stopping in an very ungraceful flop, he lay still for amoment, a puppet with its strings cut.

Slowly, mechanically, he rose again, hands pounding into the ground with enough force to leave handprints. His body quivered, muscles straining in the effort it took to even lift himself from the ground, breath straining to draw the air in, sweat pouring down his face and dripping from his long hair to the ground below. His chest was covered in dirt and sand, the legs of his black pants dusted white with clinging particles and green where seeds had settled.

No longer in motion, the Hydras condition was evident, skin stretched over a thin frame. Muscle had receded with fat, the first winter always the test of food storage, when fat was most necessary and then gone the body began to eat itself. Already the gnawing pain of hunger clawed its way back into his brain, no longer forced out by the simple function of Kata's and practice. Thin lips pulled back over white teeth, the pointed canines bared in a snarl.

" ******** hell..."

His voice had grown hoarse in disuse, no more than the gravely whisper of a long time smoker. Damion's breathing struggled to return to normal, thin chest rising and falling rapidly while his heart attempted the same. Even this small activity wore him down, it would be some time before he could do much of anything. He turned his head towards home, feet ploddingly leading him in that direction aswell, the slow tread of the truly exhausted.

The idea of sleep was terrifying now, the idea of never awakening beginning to seed in his mind despite his physical exhaustion. Soon, his steps began to falter, to turn towards the south, to turn away from the darkness of the temple and towards the center of life he expected. Islands opened up infront of him, rising from the muck and providing Damion with a path. Even with the pain in his feet and legs he marched on through hanging canopies of moss and decaying vegetation, brushing them aside when he could and ignoring them when they swung back.

The tread of tiny limbs across his body told Damion of the return of his friends, tiny white bodies scrambling along his chest and back. They crooned in his head like dear friends, the collective psyches of the spiders a warm ball in the still sleep cold center of his mind, warming him slowly. It was good to not feel so alone, a feeling he hadn't even been aware of. He took that comfort with him through the swamp, the long hours slipping by unnoticed as his mind was carried to his friends, to Stephen and Raven and Ryugi and Maximos. Damion had not even been aware he missed them so deeply until that point, and what had been a desire burst into a desperate need. He HAD to see his friends.

Raven made her way through the swap with a determined pace, managing to weave her way through the natural obstacles.

She was worried, and that worry in turn made her forget that she was supposed to be a silly brainless fashion slave .. Moving with silence and grace. This place was old... the land had mostly managed to swallow all the signs that civilization had once been here. it was older than her, that was for darn sure.

Part of her wanted to stop and rummage through the molding debris for clues to what had really happened here, but the rest of her was being pulled by an unseen cord, and urgency that was not really her own but instead was her friend's.

What in the world had that dunder-headed hydra meant by 'dying and coming back again'... Rae knew from first hand experience that death was not some parlor trick that could easily be conjured and then tucked away once more in favor of life.

There was light ahead, and the pull of urgency was there as well, so unless Damion had managed to clone himself.. and the clone was broadcasting his emotions all over the darn place Rave had to assume that her goal was not far now.

"I'm surprised you managed to say that without dislocating your tongue... or at least biting it!" It was easy, far too easy...but she was tampering with the elements that she controlled as well, so she expected it to be easier than a trip through a virgin swamp.

There were glowing lines all over the place, runes she didn't know and that actually made her head ache slightly as if to discourage looking too closely. Learning shadow runes was hard enough, raven didn't need to try and add these to her list. "Now what the heck did you need from me? Your note wasn't really very detailed!"

Guilt...an unbelievable amount of guilt almost managed to overwhelm her for a moment, she had chosen to change him, despite knowing that he would come to regret what she had done. Rave had to shrug it off to deal with along with her other mental problems.. later...

"Death is not usually my deal dear, I've killed before...but never a friend." She moved to look down at him, the frown visible on her face even with the uncertain light.

Orange eyes seemed to almost glow rather than reflect the light as she reached out to rest her hands on his shoulders. "Are you sure there is no better way?"

Eternal Dirge Wrote:

His dark skinned hands reached up to grip her wrists in a grip that was perhaps abit too tight.

" And it has to be you. Do this for me, I will be back."

At this he smiled lopsidedly, one half of his mouth open in a quasi-smirk that revealed teeth in a non-predatory way. It did not diminish the hungry look any smile gave the guardian, but it did make him look abit more confident, abit more able to stand on his own two feet. For amoment, his green eyes flickered skyward and the smile faltered before returning to full potential. Time was running short, he could feel energy and life returning to him as they spoke.

Rae sighed again, not fighting his grip as she looked into his eyes. "You may be back... but you won't be the same, death changes people."

He let go, but she kept her hands on his shoulders even as he pulled his knives. "But I owe you, and so I will do this... you just better come back as you said, or I will find a way to resurrect you so I can yell at you!" She was quite serious about that last bit, even though she smiled softly as her hands slowly slipped off his shoulders, moving towards the fangs and waiting for any final instructions.

Tears slowly welled in her eyes, spilling over as she drove the fangs into him, making sure that the blood was quite clearly on her hands.

Whatever kind of magic this was, it had damn well better work... or she was planning on resurrecting more than Just Damion to yell at. His god was also on her list of beings to be ticked off at, and she was secure enough in her devotion to her own god to have no problem picking a fight with another deity.

The body fell, and with it went her hope that this was all some silly little imagining that one of the lost voices in her head had managed to cook up.

Although Damion returned to the earth a heck of a lot faster than most mortals... heck even the ravenous sand beetles couldn't reduce a large man to nothing but ivory bones in the time it took for the man she had known to disappear.

The stench was almost unnoticed as she watched in abstract fascination, slowly falling to her knees beside the skeleton.

At last some small bit of her returned and with his blood still wet on her hands she gently reached out and drew a Triquetra on the bone forehead, the three pointed celtic knot dedicated to the Goddess of War, Babd...Mother, Crone, and Maiden the three points each representing one of her faces and one of her roles in that lost religion as protector of mind, body and spirit.

It was a little laugh in the face of the god that Damion had pledged himself to, this bit of a different religion being observed over the body of one of His followers. Raven was always teasing gods, heck she skirted disaster with Nocturne on a regular basis and yet she still loved Him with all her heart and soul... sometimes gods just needed to be reminded that testing their children too hard oft led to the breaking of those children long before the need for them had ended. Rave got a kick out of reminding them, even if it wasn't one of her safer pastimes!

But now she quietly breathed a soft hymn as she stared at the Triquetra and the bones, waiting for Damion to come back as he had said he would.

Raven moved to aid this new entity, many parts of her personality were totally fascinated by something so very unique!

"Help me" that face said, even as it went back to pulling, a second earth hand emerging from the ground slowly, clawing frantically at the air like a drowning man.

Rae was small, but inhumanly strong, and she reached for the first free hand even as she bent to try and grasp the second hand. But she had no idea if she would even be able to hold those hands, although the fact that they had managed to get free of the earth was a good sign that they should be tangible enough for her to grasp. If she managed to get a good grip on those hands she would lean back and pull with all her might to help this new elemental emerge.

Raven's head tilted slowly to the side, her big orange eyes unblinking as she stared back at the two new men. Alike and yet dissimilar from Damion she could see how they bore a resemblance to the man she had known and wondered if this was his dumb idea of 'coming back'... One was not reborn in one's children, as she thought they might be... and the thought of the mothers of these two strange new children sent a twitch of a smile to the corners of her mouth before it disappeared again.

"Well, now that you are here, what do you propose to do with yourselves?" It was a snarky question... but meant to gauge how intelligent the new ones might be, if they could even understand the common tongue of this age or if they had any idea of their purpose here... for all she knew, the deity of the swamp had birthed them to replace Damion, and had neglected to make sure they had the latest 'software' updates to survive in this day and age

Rave had started to reach out towards them as they began to fiddle with Damion's bones, intent on telling them to let the dead rest in peace, but it was a little too late by the time she had even taken a single step towards them for the earth elemental was already dismantling Damion and she didn't really feel like trying to explain how a dead man could possibly mind having his bones taken apart when his blood was still sticky all over her hands.

" We will fix what is broken...."

but some things can never be fixed... Her neutral expression melted away at its words, orange eyes narrowing to glaring slits that now obviously glowed without the whites of her eyes to make one believe it was just a trick of the light.

" Or build anew what cannot be fixed."

And the new does not always outshine the glory of the old... Now her eyes slowly shifted to the earth elemental, even as she crossed her arms over her chest, her thumbs tucking in under the bend of her arms so that her red and black striped nails stood out in sharp relief against the milk white of her skin, her hair was almost bristling like a cat that has puffed itself out to intimidate a potential opponent.

Something had either ticked her off, or scared the crap out of her... likely it was a combination of both and she was reacting with anger in an attempt to keep from running like her tail feathers were on fire.

" Thank you....Lady Raven."

Now they spoke together, the deep tonal bass of the Earthborn complementing the smoother sound of the waterborn speaking in a way that made it seem as if they spoke to make up one voice. What they were thanking her for was yet to be determined, but regardless, thats what they were doing.

"Don't thank me.... I have done nothing that I should be thanked for." First she had meddled with Damion, then she had let him down...repeatedly...and now she had killed him. Defiantly not things that she would ever accept thanks for, if anything she was still broken enough to think that just being in her presence for their birth might end with her accidentally 'tainting' these strange new beings. It didn't matter what they were thanking her for, Raven was thoroughly pissed off at herself for even being here.

"Oh no, how could I hate you? I don't even know you as much as I knew Damion. " She actually smiled, although it was quite obviously a sad smile now. She actually took a step back, giving them more space and trying to be less threatening. "The only person I hate is myself."

((kick a** avi dear ))

Rave liked their hair, hell she would have been tempted to start hitting on them, if it weren't for the fact that she was in a real bad mood right now...

"So.... when was Damion planning on coming back like he said he would?" They were new, and she still wanted the old, it had a bit to do with the fact that part of her was as old as the crumbling bits of buildings in this swamp. But mostly it was because she couldn't afford to loose the few people she thought of as friends, it was getting way too hard to make new ones as she lost more and more of herself.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out... she tried again with the same results before she had to close her eyes, had to look away from the remains of the friend she had effectively murdered as she took a deep shuddering breath.

Her nails dug into her arms, tiny crescent shaped cuts welling with blood as she took her hands away from her arms and slowly rubbed her palms together to brush away the bits of Damion's blood that had dried enough to flake off. She let her breath out in a long slow sigh as orange eyes opened again, empty of feeling, empty of tears, just empty... " Well then, my duty here is at an end. You boys play nice, don't let the mosquitoes eat you alive, and remember that candy really does rot your teeth, although it takes a lot longer than dentists like to let you think."

Ten little lines of blood slowly etched their way down her arms, in place of the tears that she would not shed. She started to turn away, but stopped half way as if she had remembered something of a lot more importance than the danger of cavities. "Oh, and if you plan to live longer than Damion did... you should try to steer clear of people like me, Maxi may be the more dangerous of the two of us, but I manage to destroy almost as many lives as any reaper..." "The worst part is that I don't mean to do the harm that I do..."

See, it was times like now that made her love her adorable little God with all of her heart and soul! He had arrived just in time to remind her of the promise she had made, although she had a different god in mind when she had threatened Damion with resurrection... The only reason she had abandoned that line of thought was due to the simple fact that Eir needed a body to put a soul back into, and Damion's body was gone, therefore there was no reason to even attempt to find Grace and ask her to put life and soul back into the empty shell.

But as the blood marked skull dropped gently into her hands Raven had a different thought, and it was actually about someone she didn't entirely like most of the time.

Teira was a soul, a soul bound in a body made of shadows alone. A body that Maximos had created for the shattered soul of Sierra!

Now Raven had no fleebing idea how Maxi had managed that amazing feet, but she did know how to bind a person's shadow to her will, and how to weave shadows into solid objects! So the only real difficulty would be in finding Damion's soul, and then binding it to the one part of him that the new born's did not posses. His skull!

If Damion had no intention of coming back, well she would just have to change his mind on that matter!

Raven gently cradled the skull against her bosom, for once managing to look haughty and rather regal as she watched the new ones depart.

She had a smug little smirk on her face at that last comment, having already known that nothing in this place could have done more than throw a bit of dirt at her in the way of harm. Animals weren't stupid, most of them knew her for more than just another silly two legger so they usually avoided her... and when they didn't, it only took a little flair for power to remind them that she was not prey. No, the worst that she had to worry over was mosquitoes and mud, and the former was kept at bay by an obligating little wisp of air that gently redirected the course of any tiny vampire bugs away from Raven .

"Now my dear Damion, it is time for me to fulfill my vow... and for you to have the chance of a new beginning, I only hope that you take it!" She turned the skull to look into the empty eye sockets, as if her friend could hear her.

He should have known better, he should never have called on her if he wished to simply pass away!

The swamp grew darker, the shadows all gaining more wight to them, and then seeming to lean in around the priestess as if listening intently.

"This place is not a seat of power for me, but it is where last your soul was bound tightest to this realm, so it is here that we shall begin." With her left hand she reached out, the violet and black etched eye on the back of her hand glowing, her shadow seeming to rise up from the ground to take her hand... and then it was more than a seeming and Raven smiled at the dark woman who stood at her side.

Black as pitch, Raven's Shadow smiled back her indigo eyes sparkling as her fingers twined with Rave's. The shadow moved to Face Raven, her free hand gently taking the skull out of Raven's.

"Thank you, if you could just hold him for a few moments while I construct a temporary skeleton... Um, you will have to hold him a bit higher though, I wouldn't want him to have to come back as short as we are!"

The shadow grinned, a flash of jagged white teeth in all that darkness as she obediently raised the skull above her head so it would be just over six feet tall once attached to whatever skeleton Raven built for it. Apparently she thought it would be quite amusing to bring Damion back so that he was only 5 feet tall!

"Now..." This was the hard part... with her free right hand she started to pull at the shadows all around her, making them gather just under the skull as nothing more than a slightly lumpy blob of darkness. "Bones, hard as rocks... to go with the rocks in his brains..."

Little bits of light seemed to slice into the mass of shadows, cutting out a human skeleton as Raven stared off into nothing, keeping Damion alone firm in her mind as her will worked to form the magic.

Raven was a medic, and knew enough about human anatomy that she could have drawn a skeleton in her sleep, but making one was another matter entirely! Shadows were meant to be fluid, free moving and usually hazy around the edges, but now she wanted them to be hard and very tangible so she called on the tiny bit of earth magic she still had in her to bind the shadows into solid forms, forms that would be hard as stone, or metal.

The skeleton took shape, the pitch black bones were gently aligned and held ever so slightly apart by bits of air for the moment.

"Good, good... next, lets put a bit of meat on those bones!" The remainder of the blob of shadows seemed to ooze over to the skeleton, slowly crawling up the bone frame until Raven's shadow could take her hand out of the way, the darkness flowing over the skull until the entire thing looked a bit like a swamp monster.

The shadow kept her grip on Rave's left hand as the two of them looked at their slightly gruesome creation for a moment. She raised her free hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking as her eyes narrowed in silent laughter.

Rave looked from her dark twin to her bloby representation of Damion and had to smile sheepishly herself, wondering what choice words Damion would have for her if she summoned his spirit back into her creation as it was right now. "I guess you have a point, it isn't much of a work of art now is it?"

"Well, when I make other things that I want to last more than a few moments, I like to mix in a little blood to make the shadows remember what I wanted them to be... especially when I am distracted and can hardly remember my name let alone what I asked you guys to do or be for me!" She held out her hand to her shadow, palm up. "If you wouldn't mind? Just try not to cut too deep... bone cuts hurt even after they have been healed."

The shadow managed to look doubtful for a moment before her shoulders shrugged and her left hand flicked out at Raven's right. Four long dark slashes appeared across Rave's palm, welling with a blood that was almost as dark as the shadows under the light of the stars.

Raven winced a bit, not because the slashes hurt, actually she winced because they didn't hurt! And that meant that they were very deep, and they would hurt like hell if she didn't get around to healing them quickly. Her fingers were already going numb as she reached out and placed her bloody palm on the chest of the shadow creature, closing her eyes as she brought to memory every detail of Damion that she could recall while pouring those memories into her blood.

The shadow creation grew to more closely resemble a man with every beat of her heart, with every pump of her blood into it's body. There were almost no details, it was all black on black really, but the darkness around the head changed to look more like a nose and ears, lips and eyes over the contours of the skull. Wide, muscled shoulders... strong arms and a broad chest, fingers formed around the hardened bones at the ends of the arms, now obviously hands and digits instead of blobs. Waste and hips, legs, feet and toes.... Now Raven was obviously sweating, her fingers white as she clutched at her shadow's hand for the strength that her other self had to offer, but she was still smirking as she added in genitalia.. too proud, and female, to leave her creation like a sexless ken doll.

As she slowly drew her hand back a few bits of shadow stuck to her palm sealing over the cuts like bandages. Raven opened her eyes and wiped the sweat off her brow as she smiled. Now it was much more like Damion, even if it was as dark as a starless night!

"Well, now for the hard part..." She let out a sigh and closed her eyes again as she set her mind to finding the soul of her friend... even though she had no real clue how to do that. Maxi could see souls, and Munin could call to souls... but Raven was neither of those beings, perhaps her Shadow or Nocturne would have an idea of how she could finish this last, and most important, part of her casting.

"Oh Raven..." His voice was soft, amused and on the verge of a laugh. But most of all, it was entirely inaudible to the priestess. There were limits to the child-god's power, he was after all still sealed away. He could act through her and even without her immediate consent due to her position, but only so much and such acts were best reserved for times of need. Thankfully entering the woman's mind was always an effortless task. This was a place where Raven should likely have not been performing divine magic, and yet perform she did. While the swamp was the Dagon's realm, it was also the dead of night and night which fell equally everywhere, belonged to the Shadowfather. The boy rolled through the air like it was a fluffy mattress and cheerfully said, "...it doesnt have to be messy, just find a few pounds of flesh and...your a doctor, right?"

Cue maniacal villainous laughter. He vanished, as he always. His smile appeared beside her ear in a purely chesire manner and very softly said. "Pssst."

"You cant see him." An arm hovered just inside her scope of vision and pointed straight up to where Damion was hovering. Nocturne childish nature won over and instead of simply explaining the science of it all, he faded away and appeared behind the body Raven created, peering over its muscled shoulder and then tapping its head where a certain skull now rest. "But he can."

Body and soul, they sort of hungered for each other. Raven had created a body, the body did eventually need its own life force but like all shadow constructs could be made to at the very least act without one. The child god's body dissolved into black save for his smile and then only his smile remained as the black scattered. The toothy grin turned sideways and with laughter on its voice said. "Havent you ever seen Peter Pan?"

And then it was gone.

There was a yank inside where his stomach would be, a pull towards the ground that was almost irresistable. It sank in like a fish hook and yanked somewhere behind Damion's navel, tugging hard. It is suffice to say that this was enough to pull him frm his patient waiting, pulled towards the ground like the skippers catch of the day. He fought against the pull, trying to fly higher into the sky, away from the command.

" ********>

He could hear Ravens words now, traveling along the tugging in his gut, repeated in his brain like some psychotic mantra. Arms flailing in the aether, he thrashed all the harder as his struggles proved to be for nothing. What was there to hold onto here? Spirits? This land seemed dead of them, and the trees offered no solace as he was dragged backwards towards the body with increasing speed.

His spirit body bounced and rolled on the ground until at long last it slammed home into the shadow body, never giving him the time to wonder at the contradictions of the spirit realm. With a hard and painful shock he became aware of things again, the sights and smells of the world he had left behind so abruptly. Damion tried to take in air, to fill lungs that had never been made, and instead found his mouth simply opening slightly.

This did not feel the same as his body, it felt like a glove, a second skin.

Feeling suddenly leapt to his fingers, the spasm of electricity shocking nerves that didn't exist and forcing muscles that weren't there to spasm. Damion didn't feel the electricity, just the sluggish response of a body he was unfamiliar with. It was almost maddening with the way it moved and reacted and how he felt it all. Like his body was encased in a glove or something, or as if he were drugged out. His vision swam for aminute with the effort of moving his head, before finally settling on Raven.

" In where?"

He felt his lips moving, but not the breath that would normally shove the words into the air. Out of reflex he tried taking a breath only to find that the organs normally required to do so were absent on holiday. With almost herculean effort he bent his will into lifting an arm, feeling his right arm swing around to touch his bare chest. He could see it too and marveled at the black 'skin' that covered him. Was that what was making him move so oddly?

In all reality, He was moving just fine, the tethered perceptions of his mind not yet catching up with the fact that once again it was stuck inside a body. Pitch black eyes blinked and rolled, making it hard to tell where they were focused. He was a being made of shadow and sorcery after all.

" Dying. I was quite content with that."

His mouth worked atleast, and as he became more assimilated with the body his perceptions sped up to match it. The jaw moved up and down to reveal more blackness within, no glimmer of light escaping. He worked the black fingers, lifting them up for inspection.

" Now....why am I black? I don't remember being black."

He knew good and well he hadn't been black, and this black was beyond any black he had experienced. This was the blackness of the stars, the soulless, lightless depths one found only between those infinitely distant suns. It would not have suprised him to find this odd covering colder than the ice of the mountains. His black eyes peered between his fingers down at Raven and her Shadow, momentarily confused as to her anger.

" This is the body Lord Dagon granted me, yes?"

He still held some fealty towards the being who had done so much for him, despite his failures. Maybe because it gave him a purpose beyond what he had ever thought for himself. Regardless, he couldn't understand Raven's anger with him.

His head jerked back abit, as if he had gotten too close to a pan of oil that chose that exact moment to start frying. Who in the hells was Nocturne? Why was she talking as if he wasn't ever coming back?

" How in the 9 hells do you know I wasn't going to come back? He told...me..."

Never beleive the words of beings whose lifespans are much much longer than yours. Damion felt the realisation wash over him like a dunk in icey water and immediately felt very betrayed and very foolish. He had known that nothing came back from death, not really anyways, or atleast in his admittedly limited experience you couldn't. He just wanted so much for it to be true so he could finally be of some help to this place.

And as she shook he stood rock steady, letting it all sink in slowly. For all anyone knew, he could have been a statue she was hissing at. Damion was content to let her yell and scream, because he didn't know yet what to say. Sometimes it was best to just stay quiet.

He caught Ravens words and saw the diverging path. She had failed to answer his question entirely, instead focusing on chewing him out further.

" Raven....who is Nocturne?"

He asked again, his voice soft as if to console. Deep down, some part of him wanted to taste the blood on her hands and go on to cause more of it to flow, and another part was sobbing over the sense of betrayal it felt. The elemental ignored both parts, pushed them aside as unnecessary and unneeded. One could be dealt with later, and the other would in time fade away or be replaced with blind fury.

" I don't care about the rest of that...I just want to know who this person is."

Especially if he owed them a part of his body it seemed. That they would help out and then vanish was likely, but their motives were bathed in secrecy and that was something that brought a twist of worry to his mind.

Raven had just said a whole lot, but at the same time Raven had just said nearly nothing. Which, when compared to the spirit of what it was to be a shadow and shadowy was absolutely correct. This circumstance was something special. The Shadowfather's voice was heard, without any visual representation. It would echo in Raven's ears soft yet powerful, kind and yet commanding...the formal deity rather than the playful child-god.

"You've done well. Your word is honored above reproach. And I must ask you more." Shadows rolled and leaned toward Damion in the same way grass rolls when a strong wind blows on it. This was not a hallucination, while the lean was soft Damion may notice it, if he chose to.

"A name is not enough. It carries question and doubt. This child needs more." Nocturne's voice took on a stronger tone, something near the sort of presence he used when inducting her as his chosen. "Tell him my priestess. Tell him so that he may see, and feel, and believe what this body already knows. Tell him, what I am."

Damion stared down at her for a long moment. And then another. And then one more, just for good measure, as his brain flitted through infinite numbers of responses too fast or too damn stupid for him to give voice to any of them. It seemed like he had something to say and then just didn't say it until finally he lifted a hand and finger, opened his mouth and lowered both hand and finger.

" A god....another one?"

While he hadn't been so naive as to beleive Dagon had been the only god, in his limited experience with those of a divine nature he had really expected something alittle different. An otherworldly voice, vast shows of power, etc. Really no different from the occupants of the mainland. Those with power anyways. The "Shadow" bit caught him abit off guard, and or atleast wrong footed him vastly. Was that were Maximos got his power? What'd she mean he was a 'shadow' of his former self?

Just how much power did this new god have over him?

He couldn't help but begin to have a dim view of the gods, and added to his list of growing curiousities how long his body would last if a god had helped to make it, if such had been the case. He knew so little about creatures of Divinity, so very little.

" Why did he help you help me?"

The Dagons desires had been more of the material world, possessions, people, so on to increase it's power. There didn't seem to be a gain in Damion's mind, nothing he could provide this creature if indeed it wanted anything at all. It never occured to him that the gods may desire things other than what could be felt with the 5 senses.

That did not equate the mental formula's Damion had come up with to equal a god. Infact, that sounded more like the boss of a small business to him, the owner caring for his workers and everyone like some big sloppy family.

" Raven how many gods are there?"

He may as well have been asking how many stars there were in the sky, but if there were others out there like this Nocturne, he wanted the chance to find them. Damion had heard of other gods, but had never been able to place that title too them. To him they had just been people, people like any fighter he'd ever been blessed to face, who offered their services to the masses. The few gods whose names he did know he knew nothing about, not how they were worshipped or how they treated their followers.

He would spare little more thought on Nocturne, other than to possibly keep an eye out for such things. The shadowy eye on the back of Raven's hand gave him a symbol to look for. The massive shadow took a seat in the dirt and mud, crossing his legs under him and settling hands on knees. He would deal with the nudity issue later, and what he was going to do from here. This talk of caring gods was beginning to poke his earlier dispair into smouldering rage.

This was news to him, and he briefly wondered how people went about worshiping without knowing it. That gods took power from their worshipers did make sense, and he stored it away. With that though, he came to wonder how the Dagon received its power. It had so few worshipers, but it had done so much to change his body and perceptions.

" With so many gods though, there aren't that many people on Gaia. How are they all worshiped?"

He had seen the clustered cities and the wide, uninhabited plains of Gaia and it didn't seem to him that there was nearly enough worship to go around. With that thought came another.

" Do I have to worship your Nocturne to keep my body?"

Damion did not want to sell himself out to another god so swiftly, not wanting to fall into some kind of unknown trap or set himself up for failure again. He would stay away from the gods if he could, let them hand themselves in their own ways and leave him well enough alone.

" I'd rather not have to, and I'd rather not put myself in any more debt than I already am."

Damion chose to ignore what he was made of, thinking on it made him feel unnatural and uncomfortable ontop of simmeringly angry. He dug his fingers into the dirt, trying to use the feeling of the cool, damp earth to keep his mind on things other than that sense of betrayal. He came up with more questions then, those should help.

" You said light can hurt me, like sunlight?"

He wasn't a vampire and took great pleasure from laying out in the sun and soaking up warmth. The moon didn't provide the same things, no warmth from its rays, and the former Hydra had no intention of staying around in the shadows the rest of his unnatural life.

" Can I still taste things?"

In retrospect, this was likely something he could test out later, but the more questions he asked the less he could feel the red mist decending over his eyes.

So chances were he still bled the same, and thankfully he could still go out in sunlight. Damion stole a glance at the dark hole in the ground that led to the temple of Dagon, glaring at it before looking back at Raven.

" Raven, how static is my body?"

He took his dirty covered fingers out of the ground, flexing them for amoment before digging new holes in the ground with them. If he was no longer muscle and skin, how much weight could he lift? What was his strength like? He'd have to put the new body to the test before he figured out where he'd go from now on. No good as a Guard, only half useful as a delivery boy. Perhaps he'd just wander around for abit, see more of the world than he had been seeing lately.

He didnt want to do this. He didnt want to say this. Every step Nocturne took out into the open was a risk and he weighed them all carefully. He had nothing against Damion. Or in truth, nothing for Damion. It was the principal of the fact.

Gentle, cool hands came down on Raven's shoulders. Soft, yet strong. Nocturne did not hover this time, but trotted up in the grass beside her, calm and slowly, a somber expression on his face. "Raven...my Raven..."

Nocturne said, his voice carried a tone of the rare motion of regret behind it. He took a short breath and then spoke for all the world sounding like a parent telling a child that their small pet animal had just run into the street and met its end. Only, instead of a cat, dog, or turtle's obituary, Nocturne said. "He cannot stay like this."

He gestured to Damion, who, was using questions and a good amount of control to keep a red tide of anger at bay. Anger, primal rage, an element the man was known for wielding. "Can you feel the heat of his indignation? Can you taste it?"

The Shadowfather shook his head softly. "This boy is a beast of battle. He is a being of the physical and the flesh not the spirit and the arcane. The rush of adrenaline. The pounding of his heart in his chest. The feel of sweat dripping from the pores. The ache of muscle. He savors the feel of hot blood on his skin and every carnal experience that is combat is and more...are his air and water."

He let that sit for just a few careful seconds, looking Raven sympathetically in the eye the entire time, and then he softly continued. "And all of that has been taken away. Without it, he is very much still dead."

He sighed, and rest a hand on her hand. "I give you no orders my priestess, you have kept your word and may do as you please. You have created a masterful form. But if he truly is your friend he deserves to know there is another way. Perhaps even, to be given the chance to find the flesh he may wish to inhabit on his own and by his own code of morale. But..."

He squeezed her hand softly his skin chilled against hers, then shook his head and met her eyes evenly. "Unless he truly desires this body, his soul will break its ties with it and slip free. To trap a soul, is to incur the notice of the Reapers. He is not of mine. I may not interfere with him unless he requests it."

Raven looked at Nocturne in confusion... She quite obviously did not get it, but that was likely due to the fact that she did not want to get it... She was a creature of passion herself, although that passion rarely turned to the rush of a fighter and she didn't want to believe that someone who had friends and loved ones would rather die than learn to live again. She understood sacrifice, she came from a time where sacrificing oneself at the will of one's god was quite a normal practice, and was considered honorable...but he had been expecting his dagon to resurrect him, he had promised to come back! Now he was back, so she didn't see what the problem was...

Why wouldn't he want to stay in this new body? Why wouldn't he want to take this chance at a new life and make it all his own?

Even trying as hard as he was Damion was having a hard time holding back that killing urge, his eyes turning a dim, dark red instead of the everpresent blackness of his new body. His lips pulled back from his teeth for amoment before reason reasserted itself and he shot to his feet in a rush.

" I've got to go Raven, I can't stay here."

Her confusion turned to an icy rage in the blink of an eye as she glared at Damion, now sensing his own rage and wondering for the first time if it was directed at her. "Are you mad at me for what I have done Damion? Why wouldn't you want this new body, this new chance? Did you really mean to make me into a murderer earlier this evening?" He still hadn't answered that last question, and now she was mad enough that she really needed to know...

She didn't know what this other way could be that Nocturne had spoken of, she didn't even want to think that she might have spent so much of herself to make someone happy, only to find that she had in fact made them as desolate as she had been before Nocturne had granted her wish.

Raven had been treating Damion more like her own child than she had the two issues of her flesh... willing to guide and support him while he learned to live again, and the wound in her heart that his death had created was torn wide open again now at the thought that he might betray her all over again by simply refusing to live...

Her flash of anger sent a spike through Damion, his eyes snapping back to her and flaring open before they resumed a more normal position.

" Mad at you? No dear Raven, I'm not."

He had to force the words to sound controlled, and even then he didn't think he'd succeeded.

" I'm just mad. And no, I didn't mean to make you a liar, I fully beleived the lies of my....Lord Dagon..."

Now he sounded angry, the words coming out through clenched teeth before he began to simply walk forward, moving past Raven stiffly. He very much needed to be gone from the swamp, needed a place he could calm down, or something he could hurt with a reasonable chance of it killing him. There was no thrill otherwise. To look at his body signs, one wouldn't be able to tell he was angry. No muscles tensed or tightened, not stress showed through that stone like body.

His clawed fingers were the only real clue to his feelings. His heart beat no wardrum in his chest and head and that sent more pulses of rage through Damions tethered spirit. His body should have been reacting, but instead it was like pouring water into a deep well, from a thimble. The lack of feeling was maddening.

The large shadow slowed his pace before stopping completely, turning his head to look back at her over his shoulder. In the night, to the human eye he would be impossible to see, just more shadow on shadow. But Raven would undoubtedly catch the rolling motion of his shoulders, the thoughtful cast of his face.

" Like...what?"

He didn't think it would really help, whatever it was. But that may have been the anger and despair talking, the belief that nothing could go right now. His clawed fingers flexed, or atleast gave the semblance of flexing. Damion felt like nothing more than a living suit of armor, no muscles just smooth, flawless motion. The shadows of his body simply filled in the gaps when his limbs moved, without any real motion. Just smoke in the air.

It was infuriating, but Raven had set his mind on another path altogether. Perhaps a quest was just what he needed, something to test his body with, test his limits. Whatever those were anymore.

" You mean like frankenstein.....cobble together a body?" The idea was repugnant and attractive at the same time. Attractive in so far as he'd have a warm, living body to inhabit and live the rest of his life in, and repugnant in the manner of the putting it together. The very thought of putting a body together out of corpses was disgusting to an extreme.

" I'm rather tired of magic Raven, are you sure it would even work? I'm grateful for this body, but I don't think I could handle the upset of a last ditch effort failing me."

It was hard enough dealing with his anger right now, the empty feeling just bringing more and more of it out. It was like a living thing seeking to fill up his body with all the old feelings and finding nothing there to fill. His eyes still glowed dimly with the threat of restrained violence, though from a distance they were harder to see. Quite suddenly Damion lashed out, thick diggers claws smashing into and then through the rotting dead wood of a near at hand tree and sending chunks of it flying. Even as it toppled, the black body kept moving, smashing more and more of it until little was left to hit the ground in one peice.

He let loose a primal roar of unsatisfied fury, head tilted back and eyes on the moon as if it was somehow the cause of his emptiness. His fingers were clawed up, palms towards the sky at his side but he may as well have been a statue for as much as the rest of his body reacted. He resembled the kind of statue old primitive cultures would have worshiped, a murderous god of war and violence perhaps.

"I messed up, didn't I?" Oh those eyes, they were heartbreaking eyes, but Nocturne didnt look heartbroken anymore at all. He looked like he was just about on the verge of laughter, and not the mocking sort either! He leaned over, putting a hand on Raven's leg and using it to lift himself high enough that his other hand could poke the edge of her nose. "Your so silly."

And then he slid down and back beside her. "I'm sure its very frustrating. But he has no one to blame but himself. He said he would have gone through with the ritual even should you not have been there."

Nocturne chuckled and spun a gold and purple bracelet idly around his wrist. "He certainly could not have expected the red carpet, its not easy to put a stopper in death. Its ugly and crude work, that is why it is favorable one avoids being impaled through the heart as opposed to requesting it explicitly. If he's tired of anything, its his own mistake. He is going to run his course Raven dearest. The fact is, if he wants precious flesh he'll hunt it. If he does not and he does not accept this body you have gifted him, it will start to fall apart and eventually fade away. If he is upset that you did not resurrect him from his own blunder into ideal conditions well or misses the spirit world well...he can go back. Countless mortals die every day."

"I tried to make it better, but I just don't think the way he does..." Nocturne shrugged casually. Anger. Revenge. Primal instincts. It seemed he could relate, it showed on his face as he watched Damion roar, but it was just as clear he did not expect Raven to start thinking that way. "No matter what he decides my dearest, your job here is done. He will neither fade away or assemble the flesh required here, tonight, as you sit and wait. You have done all that is within your power and fulfilled your word. You have done well. The rest is out of your hands."

after consideration, I've decided to retcon the s**t out of Damion dying. it was a poorly thought out idea, and thus I'm going to move on with my plans to modernize, or atleast advance the character in other directions.