A journey through the darkness...(Warning may have content)

[forgerofsouls]

((OOC: Ok, so this is open, who ever wants to join can...this will most likly be rather bloody...I feel like getting some stress relaxed a little, let my other self have some fun you know? Though I think the maximum amount of people I can handle is 4 others...for now...Other than that...use either a UV character you already have...or make a new one just for this thread (use the character sheet please), no need to wait for acceptance for the character (though if I do feel that your character is overpowered...I will ask you to tone he/her/it down. and they have to be humanoid in shape and human sized, so no animals/dragons/oversized mechanical objects/spaceships), and no need for any major history. The important history is in my characters history, this story is purely fictional...so...lets...have..fun...and remeber...you can't spell slaughter without laughter. Taking it one step farther...WOW PARTY STYLE LOL So, make your character to fit into a role that is needed. : D ))

Name: Michael / Hate (Split personality, Michael is typically the dominant personality)

Species: Human Paragon

Gender: Male

Alliance: Good and Evil (Michael = Good, Hate = Evil)

Age: 26 / 3 (Hate came to life 3 years ago)

Mature Adult at Age: 18

Appearance: Stands 5'9" weighs about 200 lb. Has an solid medium athletic build. Wears a black trench coat with black pants, black boots, black long-sleeved shirt, black belt, and black fingerless gloves. Michael wears pauldrons (shoulder guards/mantles for the shoulders used in medievel full-plate armor) on his shoulders, the design is three spikes curving out then back out (like an S except out so that the top is pointing up) the top of each spike emenates green demonic fire, though no heat is given off and the fire doesn't harm anything, its for looks, the pauldrons are colored blood red (as in artierial bleeding). On the back of the trench coat is a golden cross. Michael keeps his hair long and tied into a pony tail (make fun of it and die), his hair is black in color and he has dark brown eyes. Tends to wear a neutral look on his face, unless hes in his mania than he wears an exaggerated happy look, in his depression phase, he wears a frown. Also, a single long blood red chain is wrapped around his arms and behind his back. On his head, starting just beneath his right ear and wrapping up and around over his left ear on its way back to the begining beneath his right ear is a black headband with strange demonic golden runes, the black headband covers his left eye.

He carries a straight bladed Katana that has a blood red colored blade with a black handle and grip. He also carries two holy desert eagles, both are super shiny silver, they are stored in black holsters between his arms and body much like many police and detectives carry them when not in uniform. He also carries a Exalted Shotgun, stored under his trench coat on his back, super shiny silver in color. He can also summon a massive scythe named "Blood's Mercy", the shaft is 6ft in length all black in color with a pink grip, the blade is 5 feet long and is also blood red in color.

This is his look regardless of whether its Michael or Hate in charge of their body.

Personality: Michael's personality depends on his mood, whether he is stable, in a mania, or in a depression. When stable, he is usually calm, caring, and thinks things through. When in a mania, hes erratic, spontaneous, and highly energetic. When in a depression he just wants to be alone. But Michael is very loyal to those he trusts and calls friends. But is very vengeful against those that abuse or betray him.

Hate is precisly that. He is the very incarnation of Hate. Hate wants nothing less than the complete destruction of all humans. But he can't get his way because he can't control the body he shares with Michael. Other than his want for death Hate is all over the place with his personality. Indeed, it is said that Hate gets off on death.

Abilities:
Holy Desert Eagles: These desert eagles have been blessed with holy energy allowing them to better injure evil creatures that are mythical in nature (undead and devils/demons for example). Each clip holds enough rounds for 9 shos. Michael carries around 10 magazines all stored inside his trench coat. These rounds are protected by special magics that prevent them from going off accidently.

Exalted Shotgun: A 20 Gauge shotgun that has been blessed with so much holy energy that it became exalted. Evil beings that are highly resistant to his other weapons are always vulnerable to this gun. The magazine he uses (its an Combat Autoshotgun) carries 10 rounds. He carries 10 magazines on him. Like the desert eagle ammo, the shotgun ammo is also protected against accidental discharge.

Katana "Blood Dragon": Made from "Cold Iron" making it useful against demons, feys, and such. Less useful against humans and other humanoids. Sharpened so that it can cut through even dragon hide. Magic has made it indestructible. Given the name "Blood Dragon".

Scythe "Blood's Mercy": Made from unknown material it cuts through anything. Despite its size, Michael can swing it around like its nothing. It can cut through anything and can kill even gods. Michael summons it at will as he needs it, and if he wills it, it vanishes.

Beyond Mortal: Michael's physical strength, dexterity, constitution, and intellectual abilities are way beyond mortal humans. This gives him the ability to fight as an one man army.

Immortal: Michael is immune to the passage of time, the effects of poisons, and the effects of disease. Thus he doesn't age even though hes still young, he'll always look the way he does. He also can't die from other natural effects (such as a cave in not caused by magic, or falling from to high of an height).

Combat Skills: Michael has complete mastery of his weapons. And is the master of 5 martial arts styles.

Role In Party: Melee DPS (Damage Per Second)

Disadvantages:
Immortal Mortal: Can be killed like any mortal can in combat. Other than this, his only other disadvatage would be his lack of magic.

Family:
Mother: Alive
Father: Dead
Ex-Step Father: Alive
Brother #1: Alive
Brother #2: Alive
Step Brother #1: Alive
Step Brother #2: Alive
Step Sister: Alive
Rest of Family: Alive or Dead

History: Michael has no signifigant history beyond what is happening here:

It happened about a year ago...the choas...the undead...the demons...the dragons...the evil...Most cities had been overrun and destroyed. There was only a few safe areas left. But even they were on the verge of falling to the chaos...to the negetive forces...to the despair. Michael...had released his anger on the world...and in doing so, had summoned a host of evil so powerful that the earth had almost fallen. Five generals and their lord had risen to assualt the earth. General Frostmourne, a undead lich of enormous power; General Firestorm, a demon of enormous evil; General Ashleaf, a fey forced into her position and to obey; General General Wavedepth, a serpent of the seas; General Skyforlorn, dragon lord of the skies; and their leader: Darkness, an being of hate and despair.

Anything Else We Need to Know?: Nope, this can be fun, just need maybe four others (if not I will make filler characters), need a tank, a healer, and two more DPS. lol I said WOW Party Style

IC (In Character) Entrance:

Michael stared at the black gate to the cemetary, it stood there, errected shortly after the chaos came. And it was all his fault. He wanted nothing more than to right his wrong. The only way to do that was for him to defeat the forces of choas. The cemetary's gate was created by the undead forces...the fact was...the cemetary was about the size of a large city, with all sort of buildings one would expect to find in large cemetaries. Some where in there General Frostmourne commanded his forces to kill. Today, Frostmourne would die.

You should just join the forces and kill everyone, less of a headache you know. Hate told Michael for the hunderenth time.

You know I can't do that, so just be silent. Michael's reply came. Though Michael knew it was pointless to say such things to Hate, he said it anyways.

Oh come on, it will be FUN! You will enjoy it! Hey, how about this? You can keep some woman to yourself as slaves! What do you say! Hate replied back in a very cheerful voice.

Again, you know that I can't do that, so shut the fuck up! Leave me be! I got to prepare myself for this upcoming battle. And you are interfering. Michael thought, a little pissed off sounding in his own head. But this time there would be no responce from Hate, this time he stayed quiet. Sometimes, it took a more stern approach to handle the unwanted personality. Michael prepared himself mentaly, he was prepared physically, he even recounted his ammo. He hoped that he would be able to get more some how. And so, with a final look at the gate, Michael started to slowly approach the cemetary, almost like he was approaching his own burial.

(ooc: Last notes, expect lots of enemies, so prepare to fight, also for normal enemies, like the zombies you should expect to meet, you can kill in your own posts, but make it reasonable, no mass killings or moves that would wipe out the city er...cemetary. Bosses, like Darkness and his generals, you can not kill them in your posts, only I can say if what you did killed them. Beyond that...have fun )

[Windra]

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OoC
Nrrr?
Would it be alright for Nay or Scarlet or, preferably both to join?

[forgerofsouls]

(ooc: Yes lol

.use either a UV character you already have...or make a new one just for this thread

[Windra]

<center>

It was a beautiful day! The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the birds were singing ... in Palms Springs, Florida. Which was not where they were, though the intention had been to drop by for a few days to see what was what and, mostly, soak up the sun. Now was the opportune moment. Weather was flaming down south, to the point of causing heat exhaustion. A dip in the ocean would do a body good. Plus, they could venture out on a ferry, visit the Bermuda Triangle ... !

But then Naira hadn't counted on being jumped at the last possible second by a curious and hyper Scarlet who didn't know the meaning of the word 'wait', thus destroying her concentration. They could be on the beach by now ... but somehow instead wound up here. Teleportation gone awry. Why did it always happen to her?

While the half-dragon stood, blinking away stars from her eyes, Scarlet was stomping her steel-tipped boots. It was evident to the V-ACT 32 that this wasn't quite the Keys either. "Man, how'm I supposed ta wrestle crocodiles in dis?"

"Maybe we'll find a swamp somewhere," suggested the halfling, tail flicking this way and that. Though she spoke with aloofness and surrealism. A gloved hand rubbed at her forehead. This wasn't quite ... what she was hoping for. Goodbye sunshine, hello ... graveyard?

Maybe it would be worth it.
Graveyards made the Soul Reaver unreasonably hyper due to the high amount of psychokinetic energy. In fact, every limb was tingling and her brain was buzzing. Green eyes lit up like lamps - she wasn't wearing the headband today and the word Nayee could be seen scrawled across her forehead in scarred lettering. A black Kevlar vest covered a black tee, both midriff-revealing. Loose black pants, zipoff, fell to the ankles at which they were tied by bandages against her silver dragon feet tipped with alabaster claws. Knees were also tied in bandages, albeit black, and a clothe about her waist held a small pouch with equipment. Each hand was gloved in a black fingerless, backed with steel plates and rubber knuckles. The final touch - a skull choker visible around her neck between the high-rise collar openings of her Kevlar. A thick silver tail trailed from her spine, tipped with a yellow spade that was shattered into four spikes.

Then there was Scarlet. Red-skinned and already odd to look at, this fae had only thin flaps of skin where thick lips should be. Her nose was almost nonexistent, with the bridge submerged but nostrils evident and snake-like. Eyes glazed with a thick white film, though one could make out the faded blue irises behind the death-coat. No eyebrows, though she was not lacking a thick bush of bleached blond hair that ran to the end of her chin and the three spikes of shock yellow bangs that dangled before her face. Dressed in a black tank top, camouflage jeans, a slate gray trench coat with silver linings and black boots and tan bandages on each wrist, this fae was strapped to fight. Besides, each knee was armed with a holster containing a .45 Colt. And who knew what was in her jacket ...

Both females had sharp canines replacing each tooth. Note: don't get bitten.

And they were also standing maybe five feet on the other side of the gate which was being opened. While Naira was getting her bearings together, Scarlet (walking towards the gate) paused and blinked at the stranger making his way inside. "Coat!" cried she, her first vision of him including the long trench.

[forgerofsouls]

((OOC: I'll wait till friday for others to post if they want to join. If by friday no one else joins, I'll be bringing in two other characters. Till then, we can atleast continue.))

IC:

If Naira and Scarlet had managed to make it to Palms Springs, they would have found a huge crate. The city had become overran earlier in the war and so the government panicked and nuked the place three times over. This had created the Palms Fallen Crater as it is jokingly refered to. Of course, the area was saturated with a lot of radioactive fallout that would remain there for the next 50 or more years.

Naira's sensitivity to psychokinetic energy in graveyards would have told her one other thing about the area they were in, it was devoid of any type of natural life and natural death and warmth. Indeed while the air was very clamy because of the light sickly purple fog in the air it was still atleast 90 degrees in the area, but even so, it seamed very cold, as if the very warmth and life (or soul) was being sucked out. The gravestones were all very old and decrepit looking, despite the fact they were les than a year old. There was no grass, only dead leaves underfoot were the graves laid. The stone walkway looked like it was dieing iteself, though that was impossible. The trees in the area were shades of gray, not brown or tan, but dead grays. No leaves were on the branches, but the sun did not reach through fully or in a joyfully way, as if the warmth and life was also sucked from that. All in all it could be said the graveyard looked a lot like the ones you were told to stay away from after you watched a scary movie as a child.

Michael stood there, for suddenly, two females had appeared out of nowhere. But he immediatly saw that they were not human. His first impression of Naira was that she was a demon, with the tail, and glowing eyes. But then he noticed her clothing. Demons typically did not dress like that, atleast not the female demons that had invaded his home. Those demons had always worn lingere type outfits, always very revealing, and sometimes, they wore nothing! But she was fully clothed. So, with that out of the way, Michael could only come up with two answers: 1. She was a new enemy sent to kill him, or 2. She was an innocent person caught in someone elses war.

And Scarlet totaly caught Michael by surprise. Red skined, odd to look at, thin lips, a almost nonexistant nose, eyes glazes, amongest other things. She reminded him of a zombie. But she was...more dangerous looking, plus she carried two weapons. Put the way she was dressed threw him off, just like Naira. And something in her eyes made him realize that she had some sort of active thought patterns in there, unlike the normal zombies. The brainless dead always seeking to munch on brains...though typically when they ate their prey they left the brain alone for some odd reason. Michael came up with the same accessment with Scarlet as he did Naira and wondered about the two.

"Man, how'm I supposed ta wrestle crocodiles in dis?" Said Scarlet, this caught Michael even more of guard, and made him realize even more so than befire that she wasn't a typical zombie, if she was even an undead in the first place. Of course, she might get her wish, General Frostmourne was known to take even dangerous animals and make them into undead, so if they happened to come across an undead blood thirsty crocodile, she might just become happy with the new situation.

"Maybe we'll find a swamp somewhere," Said Naira. Michael did expect for her to speak, she was to humanoid and intelligent looking to not be able to, unless she was mute, but it was obvious that she wasn't. Again...a swamp...that made sense with the crocodile wrestling. At this point, Michael got a better look at their teeth...thay had very sharp looking canines instead of normal teeth. Michael at this point hoped they weren't enemies, as he didn't want to waste energy fighting potientially innocent people.

"Coat!" Cried out Scarlet suddenly as she had started to walk towards the gate...which he had just started to enter. It just occured to Michael, she was talking about his trench coat. But when she said that, she sounded like a little child seeing something new for the first time. But, she deffently couldn't be a child.

"Yes, its a trench coat." Michael said, dragging his eyes from the feet to thier heads of each female individually, taking in every detail. Kill them, or take this as slaves or something! Yelled a voice in Michael's head, which was promptly ignored. They look like some fun toys, if you know what I mean! Come on man! HURT THEM! Hate continued in Michael's head. Michael continued to ignore Hate for now. "Who are you? Do you work for Darkness and his generals?" Michael demanded, making himself sound very confident and unfazed by the two newcomers.

[Windra]

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"Who?" Naira blurted this out without looking up at first, more preoccupied with watching the very large, very hairy spider crawler up her foot. A glance upward now, unsettled eyes barely taking in Michael's form. "What? Darkness?" A flicker of confusion ... and suddenly she was shaking her taloned foot with a huge grimace on her marred face. The thing was working up her pant leg now, and in case nobody happened to notice ... she was petrified of "Goddamn fucking spiders get the hell offa ME!"

Yes, she had quite a tongue. Not that she used it often in Deep Forest. Too many sensitive ears there, and too many mods keeping an eye on threads so that they could slap warning labels on them. For joy. For joy! And now this arachnid ... A flail here, a punt there.

Scarlet stalked forward. She was hunched a little, peering at Michael from a slightly lower level because of her poor posture. Her mannerisms in approaching would remind one of a shambling zombie eager for the east of flesh that was about to ensue, but Scar ... wasn't exactly like that. Yes, the taste of blood drove her apeshit, and frenzies could often lead to her incurring wrath on her allies without realizing it ... But for the most part, this zedhead was docile. And strange with English.

"I be's gettin' it ... " A wave of her thickened claws. Maw formed into a frown. "We be's tryin' ta get to Florida back on 'er version of Earth." A thumb jabbed at Naira, still bugging out over the spider. "Cuz I wanna beat up a gator and see some doods in speedos buuuut ... dink we took a wrong turn at Albuquerque."

Snap! Fwoooooooooosh! One fuzzy brown tarantula went sailing past Michael's head and Naira frantically brushed off her pants. "What she's saying is that we got lost," paraphrased the halfling. Uttering a sigh, she finally relaxed and looked up. Her eyes were green, yes, but the right one was peculiar in the fact that it was also glazed to a faint shade of jade. Blind? "As a matter of fact ... where are we?"

[Roose Hurro]

Not sure if I should get involved, but this looks interesting, you have a medic in your list, and bits of a character are floating in my head... however, like always, non-human, but close enough to human size to interact... non-human, like my UV characters Roose/Thoee/Deen. Haven't yet defined his look or finer details, but I can throw some stuff out (or I may just rip off a new character from one of my existing species, not used here, with some choice mods... yep, that'll be easier than scratch... and I have pics to go by, too!):

Name: Kheer Longstride

Species: A'Kestyl

Gender: Male

Alliance: Good

Age: 42

Height: 6' 2"

Weight: 187

Mature Adult at Age: 18

Appearance: Typical low desert A'Kestyl racial varient... same long, slender dragonoid muzzle... same curved, lightly textured, ram-like horns, with sharp-pointed tips running straight along the lower jaw-line, though he has a slight downward drop, out to his muzzle's end, so he can stab when he bites (in other word, normal for his species)... these horns, starting above the front of his pointed ears, and curving around behind and then under them... thick mane, running from top of head, down past shoulders, to a spot just an inch or two past his shoulderblades (indicator of his age)... medium length neck... narrow shoulders... slender, athletic build... scaled on muzzle and throat, on legs, from digitigrade ankles to four clawed toes on each foot (the inner one being a scytheclaw), on arms, from elbows to four clawed fingers on each hand (opposed digits included), on entire tail, and on belly, from edge of ribcage to genitalia... also scaled the entire length of his naturally re-enforced spinal ridge, from tail to back of skull... everywhere else, furred. Indeed, other than his light bronze scales and mixture of light sand and pale golden yellow fur, and a duller sheen on his grayblack horns, Kheer is no different than any other A'Kestyl in looks. Handsome, but not remarkably so, though his dark jade eyes are backed by a very strong and stubborn will.

Kheer wears a single titanium band around his right lower leg, signifying he is his parents' firstborn twin set. On his left horn, six narrow bands encircle near its base, each band carved with a name, two of them titanium, four of them silver... yet, only one band, in gold, on his right horn, uncarved... a memorium of one child lost, one saved. Each band, a mark of his fatherhood, symbol of his children, to any witness.

Clothing? Though a member of an advanced, civilized race, still wild in spirit, as all his kind... not shy about his body, but he wears a form-fitting flightsuit under protective nano-ceramic armor, crash-impact field diffuser built into the chestplate. Standard pilot gear. Headset and helmet, with HUD visor, designed to accommodate his horns and protect his muzzle, with limited, indepent life-support, in concert with the suit. When not actively piloting, he wears loose, non-restrictive earthtone pants and vest, or quite often just a loose robe to relax in.

Personality: Very strong-willed and stubborn... like the rest of his kind, not prone to trust strangers without knowing their reputations. If you gain his trust, don't break it. If you mess with him, be prepared for pain. If you are hurt, stranger or no, he will patch you back together, best as he can. Not the best when it comes to his "bedside" manners

Abilities: Basically, he's the alien equivalent of a paramedic, skilled in all manners of first aid, even minor surgery, but don't expect miracles under these unusual field conditions. And never mess with his medkit! If it's lost or damaged, especially by you, he will not be happy... and you might end up sewed together "wrong." Well, not really... he has a very important honor-trustbond in his work, but you WILL be left to wonder.

Kheer, like all A'Kestyl, is strong, tough, swift and a very skilled predator, his body very resistant to crushing injury, due to their adaptation to hunt snakes (of the constrictor variety), way back in their species history. He also has a limited tolerance for poison, and, if injured serious enough, will enter a regeneration torpor, and sleep till he either recovers or dies. His tail is also prehensile, and he can manage on all fours, though his normal posture is bipedal.

As for weapons, Kheer caries an old yet well-cared for kinetic disruptor... a sophisticated variable projectile weapon, each mag able to hold fifty rounds (and he carries six spares, not counting the one in the weapon). He also carries a very neat folding blade, and a weapon he picked up about fifteen years ago, during a medical salvage recovery mission... a lightsaber. Yes, the scattered wreckage found by the deep scouters had been of a very large ship, with few in the way of survivors. One of those alien survivors, before her death, gave Kheer her own weapon, despite the fact he couldn't save her. He's spent the last fifteen years learning how to use it, so he can use it quite well, as well as he can use his folding blade. Medic, yes, but connected with deepspace exploratory missions, and fully able to defend himself against hostiles.

In his medkit, Kheer has everything a deepspace paramedic needs... not as extensive as a full med facility planetside, nor as the facilities aboard his ship, but still state of the art field gear.

Role In Party: Healer/Medic

Disadvantages: Kheer is tough, yes, but not indestructable... no superpowers, no magic, just technology and stubbornness. His pistol has limited ammo, and though his lightsaber can cut through near anything, and can run continuously for a long time, it is also, ultimately, limited by its available power. Which would leave him with knife, teeth, horns and claws.

Family: His mate and seven children (yet to be named). Mother, father, siblings (also unnamed, at present)

History: Undefined, at present, but he will be crash-landing.

Anything Else We Need to Know?: Not yet...


Will he fit? If so, I can leave things as-is, or edit in as data becomes available....


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[forgerofsouls]

((OOC: Aye, works perfectly But, the show must go one!))

IC:

"Who?" Naira had replied to Michael's question, making him wonder where she was from. Michael was sure that anyone on the Earth would have known about Darkness, after all, he was the one that had complete control over all the forces that threatened the Earth. "What? Darkness" That confirmed it, she knew nothing about Darkness. "Goddamn fucking spiders get the hell offa ME!" Michael almost laughed at the comical sight. Normally any thing that looked like a zombie and was approaching hunched over would have made Michael draw atleast his pistols, but he felt that this was not the case.

"I be's gettin' it..." Michael tryed to figure out what Scarlet meant but before he could say anything..."We be's tryin' ta get to Florida back on 'er version of Earth." A thumb jabbed at Naira, still bugging out over the spider. "Cuz I wanna beat up a gator and see some doods in speedos buuuut ... dink we took a wrong turn at Albuquerque." Well, he actually understood what she said that time. But why would they be trying to get to Florida? It was right now a zone controled by General Firestorm. But before he could explain that or anything to them, Naira had spoken up.

"What she's saying is that we got lost," At least she looked relaxed now, but Michael almost had a spider land on his face, and he to, was not to fond of spiders. A rather comical look of horror was plastered to his face. Oh stop it, the hairy thing was kinda cute! Said Hate, each word echoing with mirth. I HATE SPIDERS! THE FUCKING UGLY THINGS! Michael screamed in his head before regaining his composure quickly. He had a better look at Naira's eyes and saw the one with the film over it, and came to the conclusion that she might be blind in that eye. "As a matter of fact ... where are we?"


Now, it seamed that Michael could explain the situation. "You are in Hell!" Said Michael with a huge devilish grin on his face. Of course it was obvious that he was joking. "Seriously, you are in Alabama, or, what was once Alabama. As for going to Florida, if your looking for beeches, or Palm Springs, forget it, the beeches are gone, and Palm Springs is now called Palms Fallen Crater. For a good reason to. And Darkness, is, the leader of a very evil army. Much of Earth has been devestated. The devestation is the result of the war that has been going on for about a year now. His five Generals are scattered around the globe, with General Frostmourne Moongaze being the one that controls the area you are currently in. General Firestorm Rapeage is the one that controls Florida. Then there is General Ashleaf Enternal, she is in England. General Wavedepth Saltshakker is the lord of the seas, and can usually be found in the areas around Hawaii. General Skyforlorn is a great dragon that controls the skies. Rumors persist of another general that controls the middle east and asia, but that has yet to be confirmed. And, might I ask, who are you two, and what are you?" Michael said trying his best to answer their questions and explain the situation.

[Windra]

<center>

"You are in Hell!"

Instantly, Naira face-panned. "We're in Michigan?" Of course her first thought had been that this was a midwest state in the middle of West Bumblefuck. Would explain the lack of civilization ...

Scarlet's thoughts went elsewhere. "Yay! We get to see Satan!" This was noted in an oddly cheery voice for her clawed hands flew into the air as she did a little jig about the general area they were all situated in. Reeling about Naira and then Michael, her singonsgy choir was fittingly morbid and unrelentingly eerie. "I'm gunna see da deeeevil, I'm gunna see da deeeevil!"

Well, it did look a little ... hellish. And dead. And macabre. Maybe they really wound up in Hell? An interesting mishap in teleportation. That never happened before, but it would be completely worth the mistake. After all, who ventured to the bowels of whatever and returned in one piece? I always kinda wanted to check out 'Ye Ole Lake of Fire' ... So where were the demons and flames and screams of pain and anguish? And did the Almighty Luci really have an affair going on with Saddam Hussein?

Joy. South Park.

Then the black-clad lad spoke for a second time. Alabama? No friggin' way. Well this was definitely the boonies ... And though not Hell, definitely similar in the context of grave plots and death and whatnot. Though lacking in morbid beasties. For now. What lurked deeper, she wondered? A hesitant step was taken to the side as Naira settled on a different foot. "So many Generals. As if the war back in Deep Forest was not enough ... "

"I'm gunna see da deeeeevil!"

"I'm ... er ... " there was a sheepish grin. "Seras. Seras Victoria. Was a resident of old London but I like to hop around a lot." Shoulders shrugged. "I'm immortal, part dragon, and can jump from spot to spot." Something glinted in her eyes. A gloved finger jabbed at the point of a canine. "And these things like jugular tastes." Definitely hyper, because she was pulling all of this out of her ass. Lies lies lies, but it wasn't like Michael was going to find out any time soon. Was she implying vampirism?

Scarlet caught on. She reeled into position, snapping heels together and saluting Michael. The grin was enormous, ever-giddy. "Iscariot Paladin Alexandra Anderson!" More namedropping. Her accent quickly took on a Scottish hue to stay in-character. "Smiter of all ye demons, dey can only stand s'long as my bullets do not penetrate zey're undead 'earts!"

Naira/Seras did flinch a little at that last statement, though.

[Roose Hurro]

A Tarareen sensor probe, passing through the sector on its way to the Galactic Core, came within one lightyear of the Sol system... within, an alarm triggered, passive sensor reception now translated into an active, wide-dispersal, encoded comm signal. Transnatural enegies of unusual strength had been detected, along with the signal-patterns indicating emergent conflict.........

A small A'Kestyl medship, in a happenstance of pure serendipity, happed to be just twelve lightyears further out, on its way Home after a long rare-supply run to Apposstal-Venim, farther out on the Rim. Long way to go, but the Venimai Herbalists were known for their skills in natural medicine Galaxy-wide... yes, they were trusted deeply enough to impress the A'Kestyl Accorum, and earn a bond-contract. And yes, this medship, with the Common-translated name of "Sawbones"... well, its pilot-medic had earned his rep by being no-nonsense and very stubbornly determined. Not only that, but he'd survived quite a few First-Contact medical-emergency encounters, despite the risks. Though his methods could be coarse, his trustive bondability could not be faulted.

And also, his ship was closest to the alarm's Code Two Investigative data telemetry stream, so he received the Code first... not a Code One Urgent, but Fed Regs demanded investigation by the nearest available ship, whenever a Transnatural Alarm Call came through, especially with a Potential Conflict addendum. Before further action could be taken, Witness had to be made, from orbit and from ground...

... dangerous indeed, but this male A'Kestyl had experience with risk.

Indeed, Kheer Longstride had always been a risktaker... never to the point of stupid, always calculated, though to others it didn't always seem so. After all, he did have a family. He didn't want to leave his mate alone, or their offspring fatherless. Being a medic didn't mean he couldn't kill in his defense. Or in the defense of others.........

However...

... Target orbit had arrived, the beacon had been set to mark his First Call status, at System's Edge, and he'd made the commitment. For a mission like this, it would have been far better for two, but he stood alone, so one would have to do. So, Kheer made sure the condition of all his needed gear... had already instructed Sawbones to run continuous orbital scans. A quick yet thorough shower after his gear-check, to help cut his scent, then flightsuit... armor... field sensors... full medpack, just in case... all three weapons, K-gun and ammo, F-knife and fully-charged L-saber. Then a check of his shuttle, first external...

... then internal. Kheer's shuttle, sleek and trim as all A'Kestyl designs, had been given a Common-translated name meaning "Bite Me"... a name Kheer had found very personally descriptive. And very amusing. However, at this very moment, Kheer was not amused... busy was the more operative word. Focused. To lessen the risk, he needed this mission to go fast and smooth. Absolutely no technical glitches! Not that A'Kestyl tech glitched... "Reliable as a Honda, durable as a Toyota" could be the catchphrase used. A'Kestyl trust-bonds demanded nothing less.

But Kheer Longstride wasn't taking any chances....

He knew there existed no guarantees in Life, but he would make damn sure only God could take him out! Not that those exact words were in his thoughts, no, but the sentiment was there, always. Last Thing...? He made sure the pictures of his mate and offspring were securely tucked in his flightsuit pocket, right over his heart. So, all checks all clear, he launched...

... and five minutes later, discovered God was not the only threat he needed to worry about. Something...

... something Transnatural in the air struck Bite Me in the technical equivalent of its nads... crippled... and in horrible pain! Kheer cut all the alarms, breath heavy in his helmet and heart racing in his chest, positive ID of his attacker not the forefront of his concerns. His shuttle had been effectively "neutered"... had lost its drive, to put it bluntly. Though Sawbones had full defensive shields, Bite Me... light and fast... had not been designed for combat, so shielding had been limited to atmospheric/thermal and minimal kinetic... able to handle a bird-strike at re-entry speed, but nothing heavier. Whatever he'd hit... or whatever had hit him... it had been a lot larger and heavier than a bird.

Kheer knew he had one chance at survival... one chance to hold his shuttle together... one very slim chance to avoid his potential attacker's further retribution: Play dead! Not that he had any other options, no... fortunately, he'd managed to stabilize the reactor core, so, for now, he at least still had thermal atmospheric shielding and E-Point Matrix flow, just... no way to feed that power to the Drive Sys. And no time to do much else, other than let nature take its course... spiral in, and hope he could regain control with the remaining thrusters. Hope he could glide in to a crash landing he could walk away from. If need be, he could eject the control pod... save himself, if he couldn't save his shuttle.........

......... BOOM!.........

Sharp jolt... rapid vibrations... structural integrity holding... holding... Kheer resisted the temptation to stick his head between his legs, and kiss his ass goodbye... holding... holding... pull the nose up... pull the nose...up... PULL THE NOSE UP!

Have you ever witnessed a car wreck? It's loud, and not at all pretty... violent, though tempered by the fact cars are not high-performance aircraft, so they tend to crash only in two dimensions, not in three (unless they shoot off a cliff)....

Fortunately... or perhaps not so much... the trees had been dead and dry enough to shatter into toothpicks, when Kheer's severely crippled shuttle hit them at the end of a long, whistling, whining glide. Fortunately, Kheer had managed to keep from spiral-nosediving into the planet at full speed, but he'd come close to ejecting... very close! Yet, his skill with the shuttle's remaining thrusters... his quickness in charging emergency caps and shutting down the Core, coupled with dumping power from caps to shields, in that last second/last ditch attempt to keep his shuttle's airframe intact... well, it was a partial success... a partial failure, as well, depending on if the observer happened to be pessimist or optimist in outlook.

Thermal dump, just before impact, had left fires burning amongst the dry, shattered tree-bits. A smear of dirt turned glassy, under the torn up belly of the "beast"... yes, a successfull crash landing, only because nothing had exploded. However, a failure, in that poor Bite Me had... well, "bitten the Big One"... and suffered quite a few broken "bones" and internal "injuries"... to put it in perspective...

... but all was quiet amidst the wreckage, except for, perhaps, the ringing in any nearby ears... the crackle of fire... the tinkle of shattered hull-composites and groan of bent metalics. Otherwise, silent, no signs of movement visible through the cockpit's heat-glazed canopy.

A grayblack interstellar dart, laid to rest on the edge of a graveyard, by pure chance.........


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[forgerofsouls]

What Kheer didn't know wouldn't hurt him...at least...not till later. The massive thing that attacked his ship was none other than one of General Frostmourne's own commanders. The creature was large, and powerful, but could go invisible for periods of time. The creature was even capable of space travel, being an undead creature, the vaccum had no negetive effects on him. When Kheer would look at his shuttle, he would find huge raking rents in his shuttle as if a claw had struck it, which was precisely what happened.

As for what was happening down on the surface...Michael had heard some strange noise, like something falling, which caught his attention before he could make any remarks about Naira's fangs, or Scarlet's own antics and introduction."What idiot decided to go flying their plane today?" Michael said, before he realized that it wasn't a plane at all, but instead, an alien craft. "What now?" Michael said with a sigh. Already he had met two strange people, one claiming to be an immortal half-dragon from London, which was impossible, dragons never existed until he gave existance to Darkness, and her teeth, prolly came from her dragon ancienstry and not from being a vampire. After all, most predators went for the throat to bring down prey, and her remark fit that description perfectly. And Scarlet...was just plain insane looking and insane in the head and thus he didn't even bother to think about her introduction, if she was a paladin, than so be it. Of course he wondered by what she meant by "Iscariot". That was not a term that he was familiar with.

When the shuttle flew over head as it came crashing into the trees, creating more noise than neccessary, and sending debris and tombstones and bones and flesh of whatever was buried were it crashed flying in all directions, Michael saw the rents on the machine. His eyes narrowed in recognition at the marks. Marks of the dracolich, Commander Fellsoul. That foul beast was the one that flew into space and took out a few special satalites that were equiped with missiles. The dracolich was excessivly fast in flight, surpassed only by General Skyforlorn and his commanders.

Michael thought that they were rather lucky that Fellsoul had not appeared chasing after the shuttle. Maybe the beast wanted it to crash in the cemetary? Another play thing for the undead? One thing was certain Michael though as he started to walk towards the shuttle. There should be someone inside. He had a rather grim looking face on at the moment. For he knew that the noise of the shuttle would wake the dead. And indeed, already in the silent air, there stirred a faint whisper, like from a young girl with a soft musical voice full of warth and care. But what the voice was saying was not aduible to anyone. Michael already knew the owner of the voice. General Frostmourne had started to awaken her army of undead. It would be atleast a minute till they undead started appearing though.

Till than, he had to get the occupant of the shuttle out, and if need be, to safety. It would be a dangerous place in a minute. There would be a lot of undead swarming them soon enough. And by the looks of the huge cemetary that seamed to be bigger than New York city, there would be a very huge number of undead to deal with. Combat was coming soon, and his face was twisted to a look of a very serious nature. OH! FUN TIME SOON! She was telling everything to wake up and to kill! But to take you alive, so that she could have some fun...hehe...sounds fun, lets go to her willingly! Hate said in Michael's mind. But Michael was to commited to his task at hand to even listen to Hate.

[Windra]

<center>

Nothing had fallen out of Michael's throat concerning the announcements of what exactly they were. Good. The less questions that were asked about their conditions, the better. Though Seras did wonder what would have been said should the inquiries raise from his maw to ascend into the atmos. What secrets would be unveiled? What other bullshit could they pull from their asses? Scarlet and Naira were lying like rugs about their positions, their ranks, their species, even their names - and it was highly unusual of Scarlet, for Naira made this sort of thing a habit. But in her own little mind, maybe she thought it was just a game. Let her think that, then, thought Nemo to herself. A curiosity to her, preservation of my own skin for me.

Of course, she wasn't really a preserver of her own life. Should another be in danger, within the line of fire would her body be effortlessly thrown.

Before V-ACT 32 and Soul Reaver could even make eye contact in a wink/nudge fashion, something exploded from out of the sky. They hardly caught a glimpse of shimmering metallic silver until wood splintered and exploded into flames. Nemo and Juggernaut jumped to the sides of their current positions, keen that whatever was coming was about to plow right through them. It didn't, but the nose of ... whatever ... a space craft? ... ended up right at the edge of the graveyard with smoke billowing behind. Long gashes ripped at its underside. In the not so distant distance, trees long-dead were conjured into an enormous bonfire -

"Anybody be's gotting marshmallows?" called 'Alexandra', looking about. Meanwhile, 'Seras' and Michael flew from their current positions, both making trajectories towards the ship.

Somewhere in the air was the sound of whistling. A voice, melancholy ... Alexandra looked up, mouth forming into an 'o'. What was that noise? It sounded heavenly, soothing ... And dangerous. A lethal undertone that wasn't quite clear. Why did her insides suddenly congeal? Claws twitched, rubbing together.

Nemo, in the meanwhile, clambered onto the hull. She started knocking on steel. "Hello?" cried she, loud enough to be heard. "Anybody there?" She thought a figure was visible ... but if said figure was dead ...

[Roose Hurro]

Yes, Kheer's ship may have looked silvery, while its shields had held... but Bite Me had bitten it, and its hull had been revealed as a dark grayblack. Not steel! A carbon/ceramic nano-composite jacket over a sub-molecular alloy subframe, holding all the shuttle's vital components and systems interfaces. Light, strong, durable... but not indestructible. However...

... due to these qualities, and a good bit of pilot skill, Kheer was still in one piece. Even though he'd blacked out on impact.

Of course, upon waking, Kheer wasn't quite sure he was still alive. Due to other incidents like his, in the past, safety tech had improved, so... unlike others... he'd not only brought his ship down mostly intact, but had avoided internal injuries serious enough to trigger unwanted healing coma. So... no drugs needed, to keep him going, till he could find a safe place to collapse. No. However...

... Kheer still ached all over, as if he'd fought a giant Thelk. And lost.

No, it didn't take him long to assess the fact he still lived... a flow of choice curse words asserted that fact better than anything. Not that he felt at all happy! Alive now was one thing... alive later would be the hard part, given the circumstances. His last sensor readings had indicated his area of impact contained high traces of Transnatural energy. Not good. He would need to......... *!*

Kheer heard the knocking, though he couldn't see anything much out of Bite Me's clouded canopy, but what he did see indicated something moved, outside. Not only moved, but stood on his shuttle, banging the hull with what sounded like knuckles. Muffled, yes, but his ears were just as sharp as his eyes, and less hampered by his present situation. That, and the fact his helmet gave his ears protected enhancements, for just such a situation as this, amongst other uses. Not that Kheer was a technofreak... he liked using his natural, un-boosted senses... liked being free and unencumbered, whenever it was practical and reasonable to do so. Now was neither practical nor reasonable... he had no idea what to expect, since he'd never had a chance to bear Witness to this planet's condition.

A brief check confirmed the Core had gone cold, and the caps were empty. He had suit power... no bones were broken... and he had everything else he'd need to survive, at least for a while. Bite Me wasn't going anywhere. But it stood obvious in his mind that he had to go somewhere, if he wanted any chance at changing his presently stranded situation. Only... he had company, unknown. So, with spare, efficient movements, he unlocked restraints, checked weapons and gear, pulled out, unfolded and silently locked open his blade, and then...

... with sudden swiftness, despite his soreness, popped the canopy, made a powerful leap out, armor black as night, and grabbed for the Knocker, intent on attempting a body lock hold.

Ready to draw knife across throat or gut.........


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[forgerofsouls]

Normally Michael would have stopped someone from climbing on top of spaceships that crashed landed. As it isn't possible to tell if it is still stable or about to explode. Being on top would not be the smartest thing. But, Michael decided that if something in there was dangerous that better it be someone else that gets attacked than him. And indeed, not to long after she started knocking than did the occupant pop open the canopy and leap out at her. Well, this shall be interesting. They has an army of dead waking up on them and those two would be fighting in the middle of the dead attacking them also. But, the thing about the occupant that made Michael wonder was how he looked. But a noise caused Michael to lose that chain of though.

Leaping from the nearest burning tree were six small creatures or...rather the skeletons of the small monkey creatures they were at one point. The lept at "Seras" and Kheer, claws and teeth bared and ready to bite down and claw to pieces. Normally Michael would have brought his two desert eagles out and start blasting the skeletons, but a noise from behind him distracted him. Turning around he saw several skeletons and zombies, humans at one point, pulling themselves out of the ground they were stuck in. Decayed body parts hanging lower than normaly should, flesh hanging exposed, shreaded, rotten, and maggot infested. They had no decently what so ever, nor did they have any brain left. Than in the distance came some chilling howls, the sounds of dreadhounds, basically ghoulish wolves and dogs that hungered for flesh. Unlike the skeletons and zombies attacking them right now, dreadhounds were highly intelligent. Micahel simply drew his sword, its black grip and blood red blade dark in the fog.

"Hey! No time for fighting with each other, we got worse things to worry about!" Michael cried out hoping that the newcomer understood him and was somewhat friendly. Use them as bait! Let them die! The newcomer might have tasty flesh! COME ON HAVE SOME FUN! Hate told Michael, who kept his mind on the creatures now quickly approaching them, keeping an eye out for the dreadhounds.

The fog seamed to get thicker around them, slowly but surely their visual range would be short and close to them, them voice in the air becoming more clearer with each passing second. Kill...all... Barely audiable at the moment though it kept the same tone as it was earlier, a voice of a young girl with a soft musical voice full of warth and care. At this rate, unless the two near the shuttle got their act together and started focusing on the undead in the immediate vicinity instead of each other, they would perish.

[Windra]

<center>

Within moments, the hatch popped open and here came the strangest blur of muscle and physique that Seras had ever seen. Registering the visuals would have to wait, however. This thing flew at Seras without a whimsical note of warning. Powerful arms wrapped about her neck, thighs. Barely able to contain a snarl, Nemo immediately swung around and slammed her back against the cold spacecraft, hoping to knock the offender off or at least unconscious. While pulling to her taloned feet the tail came into action. It crept upwards, eager to snag the beast's back to pry him, or her, off.

"Some way to treat friendly strangers," snarled Seras through sharp, gritted teeth. Her actions were daring. If he were to slice her throat, let him! The loss of blood would be annoying. But the flow would stem and she would break him in two.

Scarlet uttered a growl, advancing with boots thunking into the dirt. "Hey, ya better let 'er - " Words faltered. Groans from beyond, screeches from above ...

Skeletal monkeys came flying at Seras and she ducked, possibly dragging Kheer down with her. A hand stretched before her face. Claws sprung from the gloves, their ends shimmering dangerously as she swiped it in their general direction. Meanwhile, Scarlet's foot was being grabbed by a thick, calloused hand. Juggernaut tore away, flicking the now amputated limb into the distance with a simple kick. Decay was a quick and nasty stench. It leaked into her nostrils. Salivatory glands worked up a sweat. Blood and gore, blood and gore! And rotting corpses. Never once did she ever turn down coagulation ... It settled her raging stomach.

Zombies.

Zombies!

Meaning ... was Umbrella here?"

"Friggin' T-Virus!" shouted 'Alexandra' suddenly, and she withdrew a Colt. The head of one cadaver vaporized into red mist. "Always bustin' mah chops ... "

[Roose Hurro]

If life had taught Kheer one thing, it was this: Always plan for the worst. This explained his actions, under these circumstances. Transnatural energy did nasty things not only to the living, but to the dead... usually to the living, by means of the dead. More properly known as the Undead. In other words, a very good reason for the probe's Alert signal, since Transnatural energies could spread, if not contained. Fortunately, the phenomenon rarely caused more than minor problems, on only a few worlds, but... well, sometimes, major outbreaks occured, every few hundred years or so. As a deepspace paramedic, Kheer had experienced his fair share of corpses going Undead... perhaps more than his fair share! But still, he'd only been a professional para for little more than two decades, with only a handful of one-off cases, due solely to the range of his work. Occupational hazard, really. But this! A whole world contaminated by Transnatural energy.........

However...

... though his helmet's sensor displays indicated the female creature he'd confronted was indeed Undead, she'd displayed an unusual characteristic... cognitive speech! Unfortunately, she'd also shown a willingness to fight back. And... she'd not been the only being in the area. Two others... one male, the other, female, both humanoid/primate, both able to cognitively speak and... and...

... OH, SH-- *!!!

Kheer didn't suffer unconsciousness, but his eyes did open wide just long enough for his "target" to knock him off-balance. But that wasn't important, now. Armor kept him unhurt, and natural agility allowed him to recover, just in time to sweep his blade over her head, as she ducked. Skeletal monkey skull went flying...

... and corpses started to rise from the ground they'd been burried in. Just the second of two reasons for his widened eyes and mental expletive. Also reason for a hiss in his helmet, as warning tell-tales lit up like fireworks in his visual field. Gunfire cut into his helmet receptors. Bits of monkey bone bounced off his armor.

Screw blades....

Though Kheer normally favored his kine-distruptor, his sharp senses and sharp mind had learned enough in his short time exposed here. Things far worse were at work on this world, made evident by his former Target's words, and the deviant signal patterns received from her and the other two. It also helped that this red-skinned female had taken out a zombie with a weapon of her own. Yes, Kheer normally favored kinetic weapons in situations like this, but ammo was limited, he had no idea what the complete situation was, and he didn't want to risk taking out an unexpected ally, even though his aim normally never wavered. So, his folding blade inadequate for his need, while one hand released, folded, locked and stashed, the other reached for his gifted lightsaber, and fifteen years of practice came into play....

No Jedi tricks, no....

But Kheer Longstride came from a species known for their physical skills. And from a bloodline that always bit Life on the balls.........

Of course, that "Kill...all..." voice proved to be a powerful motivator, as well!

A very distinctive sound whooshed through the surrounding air, as a "blade" of tightly contained energy flared to life, a tapered shaft of glowing sunshine slightly over a meter long. With every movement... every stroke... a powerful hum. First stroke, taking out two skeletal monkeys, before a leap landed him on the ground next to his ship, lightsaber ready to defend...

... and grateful his helmet kept scent at bay.


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[forgerofsouls]

Michael would have sighed with relief when the downed shuttle's occupant lept to the ground no longer fighting with Seras. But then again, maybe he was getting ready to attack Alexandra or himself? He didn't know, nor did he have time to think about it, as a rather large zombie stumbled over to him swinging its arm at him, Michael quickly cut the arm off with his sword before sweeping it towards another group of skeletons and zombies. More bones and flesh flew around him, blood flew everywhere from the zombies, splattering him and the other undead around him. The one-armed zombie lumbered over to him just to have Michael's sword cut it open from the right shoulder to the left hip, spilling rotten entrails to the ground, causing a horid smell to enter the area, even worse than it already was.

Meanwhile, if Alexandra, Seras, and Kheer thought that they would be left alone they had better realize this wasn't the case as many skeletons and zombies lumbered and rushed their way. A zombie ripped a large tombstone out of the ground and chucked it towards Alexandra while two high speed skeletons clambered up the shuttle looking for Seras' flesh to taste. Kheer meanwhile was faced with his own undead, many more coming form behind the ones that had so far poped up. Michael took a look around taking in the situation. So far, about 200 zombies and skeletons, and maybe a few ghoulsih dogs had awoken just for their welcoming party. Indeed, a few hellish hungry vicious sounding howls erupted through out the area, they were getting closer.

"Watch your backs! And watch each others! No telling were those Hellhounds are going to appear!" Michael yelled over the din of the moans and schreechings of undeads. Why warn them, they are going to die, and we will become the play thing for General Frostmounre! Can't possibly win against them all. Hate said laughing as he said it, obviously someone was enjoying the situation at hand. Michael thought hard about the situation, and could only come up with hack and slash style tactics. Might as well destroy the undead with the help of Seras and Alexandra, and possibly the alien if its friendly. With that his sword finished rending the head off of two more zombies. Which caused some blood to erupt into the air, which was strange, because being undead, they had no blood pressure to be able to cause such an eruption, but it happened nonetheless. SWEET! AGAIN! Hate laughed at the grizzly sight. And still the voice kept giving the order to kill, slowly coming into full understanding, and the fog, seamed to keep getting thicker and thicker.

[Windra]

<center>

Shortly after the arrival of the dead spider-monkeys was a show of lightsabering proportions ... Quite literally, as a matter of fact. The strangeling that latched about Seras' back had jumped off and was on a rampage with what looked like a prop direct from the set of Star Wars. Geeky, drolled the fae, and her insides rumbled with amusement. Wow, somebody was a bit too much into the series. To own an actual functioning replica? Capable of slicing shit in half? Overkill ... But effective. I mean, zombies and things of hollow grounds were getting chopped up left, right, center, and diagonally. Scarlet had long since abandoned her artillery by now and went to work with her claws. Now soaked in blood, the V-ACT 32 looked no better than the adversaries being fought, albeit she was more quick and, in a sense, more graceful. Gore donned every line of her motions, trickled down her forehead in beads, stained her blackened clothes, marring the camouflage pants. And worst of all?

She was laughing.

Laughing in sheer delight. Unrelenting, bizarre, disturbing. There was something more inhuman about her than the fact that she had red skin and claws and glazed eyes. An almost primal urge drenched every action taken. Cutting grizzle and bone without batting an eye, voice rising in fluctuations and pitch with every casualty ...

And Seras - she was too busy looking to see what the hell everybody else was doing. Still dazed from the unyielding flit through dimensions earlier, now drunk on energy from the cemetery, she was not completely 'there'. So when the skeletons rushed her from the ground by climbing atop the shuttle, Nemo didn't register their being there until one had a firm grip on her arms and the other went for the throat. Before she knew it, oxygen was being depleted. Breathing was a chore. And pain - their bone-tipped fingers burying holes into her skin. Red overflowed the wounds, slid down limbs ... Seras was forced to her knees.

For a second.

Without warning, her tail flew upwards and caught one in the hip with the broken spade. It latched and, with a tug, she sent it flying. Now with her arms free, a punch shattered the neck-grabber's femur. One more blast snapped its knee joint into quarters. It crumbled, still struggling until the tailed woman crushed its skull in one go.

"Stupid ... She stood. The second skeleton was back in the game, wrapping bone arms about her waist and lunging for her face with its jowels. "Napoleon ... " She headbutted the thing. Pain blinded her momentarily but it knocked the other out of commission. Its forehead was a mass of shards. "Bonesapart!"

[Roose Hurro]

Kheer didn't have time to pay attention to what happened with the others. Like any predator, his focus took in his prey, and his training, his instincts, took over. Animate bone or Undead flesh, it didn't take much to bring down his attackers. They appeared to use pure numbers, to overwhelm, rather than reasoned tactics in hand to hand. Not that Kheer himself felt reasonable. Crash's impact had left him sore and irritated, and fear helped to further motivate instinct over thought. But Longstride's weren't known for panicing under pressure. As a para-med, he'd worked with speed and precision to save lives. Now, he worked with the same clinical speed and precision to take down the Undead and the Re-animate creatures he now confronted. Seras may have thought Kheer's lightsaber a prop, but, in reality... in the whole multiversal complex of Creation, it would stand to reason that some authors may have had a natural talent for "seeing" into alternate dimensions. And writing about them, in the belief that what they wrote came pure from their own imaginations. Geeky? Perhaps from her viewpoint, but not from Kheer's. He'd tried to save the real, flesh and blood owner of this weapon, but he'd failed. Now, he used a REAL lightsaber, given to him by a REAL Jedi.........

Kheer's movements wasted no energy, went no further than they needed to, just enough to waste his attackers. Skeletal forms from behind, legs shattered by his armored tail's sweeping blow as he turned, saber slicing one Undead from armpit to opposite shoulder. Short slash removing the head from another. Cleaving still another in two, from crotch to clavicle as he ducked and rose, saber cauterizing rotten flesh, and leaving behind its own distinct smell. Kick of powerfull foot to chest, a leap to avoid, clatter of bone on armor. A fight that seemed without end, as more came up, to fill in for the fallen Undead...

... horrific.

Never had even his worst nightmares been this bad. Yet he feared worse was to come, if he survived. If they survived!


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