The Paths of Tragedy

The dark knight turned to find the source of the voice that pronounced the name of his Family's Household. He didn't knew, for sure, how would someone here could recognize him besides a few people, and then a name flashed through his mind: Hejaloki. As he met face to face with his former enemy, Lucius could easily tell this man was Hejaloki, regardless of the disguise he was using. "You...." Lucius said with a low tone as he breathed slowly, his eyes fixed on this man. Then he sighed, turning his back on Hejaloki and heading straight to one of the rooms connected to the Great Hall. "Come, we must bring this conversation to somewhere private." Lucius said as he snapped his fingers and walked towards the door leading to one of the rooms of the Colosseum.

Lucius
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Hejaloki followed him to the room.

He looked left and right at the other mortals as he walked in the room. He closed the door behind him. Hejaloki turned to Lucius and said;

"I have a few questions for you some news."
 
Lucius grinned, then nodded his head negatively as he pushed the hood of his head and removed his helm. Lucius opened his reddish eyes (though the same eyes they did not shinned evilly like in the past) and fixed them on Hejaloki. "The answers you'll receive will depend on your questions" Lucius stated firmly as he redirected his sight to the nearest window, and stared outside to the beautiful blue sky.
 
"So do you have any of Armgeddon's memories?"

Hejaloki looked outside at the sky and wished to be rid of his current problem and live peacefully. He then shifted his gazed to Lucius.

Hejaloki took a seat on a table in this room.
 
Jonad

"So, they conscripted you into the healers, did they?" Hera asked with a slight grin.
Jonad could do little more then smile slightly, as he let out a "yeah"
Since he was not a contestant himself, nor could he become one, he took what was avalible.

Jonad smiled, as he looked at Hera "I'm looking forward to the battle between Cairn, and yourself"
Jonad was not one for fighting, but he liked a show as any other person.

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Soris.

"Well Soris, where will you go while i fight? I don't think I can take you with me, how about those barrels you were by before?" Damian asked.
Without awaiting a reply, Damian headed towards the arena. Soris jumped off as Damian turned a corner, and headed back to the barrels.
After all, they provided the 2 most important things right now. Good view as well as cover to hide in.
 
Damian saw his opponent walk past him, as he entered the arena and attempted a taunt he calmly ignored it with a lowered head and walked into the arena, barely a few steps away from the gate it shut behind him. Damian then grabbed his staff in both hands with the gem-head pointed towards his opponent and his feet set 20cm apart with the right foot in front pointed towards his opponent and his left foot behind him facing his left. In this stance it would be harder to knock him back and give him a stronger defensive position if his opponent became too close. As Damian raised his head towards his foe he then tried to start some conversation before the battle. "So, who would you be?" Damian then looked directly at his foe and started gathering magical energy around him.
 
"Renero Skylar! But you can call me Rene of course." Rene told the mage politely, he walked towards the mage and extended his hand in greeting. "Let's have fun huh?"

In Rene's free hand was his blade, he had already made sure the holster was undone on his gun so it would be quick to take out. "May the best man win my friend."
 
"Renero Skylar! But you can call me Rene of course." As the man approached him Damian held his staff more defensively, as the man called Rene approached he did not detect an immediate threat, at least not in this instance. Damian held his staff steadily with his right hand and extended his left hand to shake the hand of his opponent. Rene did not seem to be taking his fight seriously, he would probably lose if he wasn't going all out. "Let's have fun huh?" Damian then prepared to shake Rene's hand. "May the best man win my friend." "I plan to." Damian replied, after shaking his hand he then took a small step back before returning to his previous position. "Better get ready!" Damian shouted to Rene before gathering more magical energy.
 
Rene smiled at the man's cockiness. He jumped backwards several feet and put himself into a defensive stance. His blade was ready in front of him in case he should need to block any magic attacks, which was most likely.

Now Rene got serious, he summoned what little magic he had in preparation should he need it. He smiled at the man one last time.

"Your move first friend!"
 
As Rene jumped back to prepare himself for the fight he spoke one last time before preparing himself. "Your move first friend!"

Damian then began his first move, nothing too strong but nothing weak enough to bother him at all. Since under close inspection this man bore a firearm as well as a sword meaning he'd need to be able to dodge attacks as quickly as possible.

"Well then, if I am to attack first... FIREBALL!" A semi-large flame appeared at his staff's head, it son became a fireball which then flashed lightly before charging towards Rene. As the fireball erupted from the staff he then lowered it and started to slowly circle Rene to lower his movements and keep him close by for his projectile spells.
 
Rene rolled out of the way as the fireball skimmed past his shoulders. He drew his gun and fired several shots at Damien whilst summoning some of his magic into his blade. He slammed his sword to the ground sending a blindingly hot wave of eneregy towards Damien.

"C'mon man! Fight me harder!"
 
As Damian managed to dodge the fire with a low roll, a few shots ripped at his robes. Ignoring this he prepared himself for the next attack, he raised his hands into the air and then directed his magical energy at the heat wave. "You think you can beat my magic... With that simple display?" Damian then brought forward his attack. "KNOCKOVER!" A large jet of air then struck the heat wave, blowing it away till it disappeared, then the air wave continued, charging ever closer towards Rene.

"Please, if you are going to fight a mage, think twice before you try magic. It is clear your level of magical power is far from mine. If you want a chance at victory, at least try. If this continues I may go all out as well, and that would be very bad on your part."

Damian then placed his staff on his shoulder, after tapping it twice he then pointed it straight at Rene. "Be careful now, make a wrong move and I may blast you away now."
 
Rene felt himself be lifted up as the air wave pummeled into his body. He spun in mid air and landed his feet on a pillar.

"Don't like me magic eh? Aww well." Rene pushed off the pillar and sped towards Damien. "HOW ABOUT THIS!" Rene spun his blade and placed it sideways in front of him. Light blue energy gathered around his entire body "ENJOY THIS!"
 
C A I R N
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As time passed, Cairn grew restless for his opponent have not yet decided to appear. It seems that he won't come after all, pity...Cairn thought as he continued to await for him. From where he was, Cairn could heard the arousing crowd that cheered for the fighters of the Open Challenge match, which confirmed him that the battle would take some time. Tired of waiting any longer, Cairn decided it was best to go back to the Colosseum. While heading back to the Great Hall, Cairn stumbled, not so coincidently, with a small girl, probably 10 to 12 years old. She was of a thin build, Caucasian, with brownish eyes and yet black hair. She was wearing a white dirty robe, and straw sandals. The girl had a worried expression on her face, and she began to call Cairn. He didn't knew that girl, yet something inside told him he needed to hear her story.

"Please...there's someone who needs your help....come, I'll show you..."

Cairn couldn't tell for sure whether what she was saying was true or false, still he was willing to give her a chance to prove it. As she had instructed, Cairn followed her to an old house not far from the Colosseum, probably built several years ago. The house had concrete walls and a wood ceiling, it had two floors and for the looks of it, it seems it has been abandoned, or at least, it looked like it. Suspicious of the situation, Cairn told the little girl to stay outside while he investigated the house. Before entering, Cairn unsheathed his sword, and then he walked straight to the door, kicking it wide open upon reaching it.
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((OOC: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Forgive my tardiness, I had a rather busy weekend. I would still like to fight Cairn with Testament some time. Perhaps after the tournament would be a more appropriate time.))

"I told you, I'm not him!" Testament yelled for the seventh time. He was straining to free his cape from the grasp of a rather thick-headed warrior that seemed to have taken a few too many blows to the head. The enourmous bulky man scratched stupidly at his large bald head. "Are you sure you're not my cousin?" "Positive! Now let me go you gorilla, I've got a fight to win!" As Testament began yanking in vain at his cape again, the man smiled widely (and stupidly). "My cousin calls me that all the time. Are you absolutely sure you're not my cousin?" Testament looked quickly around the hall to see if anyone was watching. Fortunately, the dark knight and the clumsy man had found another room, leaving the hall deserted. Confident that no one would believe this moron, he summoned his white wings and spread them to their fullest extent. "Beware!" he said as spookily as he could, "You are restraining the messenger of death! Release me, lest you succumb to my power!" Testament stared in satisfaction as the imbicile nearly wet himself and ran crying from the hall, then he remembered his fight with the knight. He dispelled his wings and rushed from the hall, his cape a little more wrinkled than usual. He ran out onto the field and looked left and right, but no sign of the knight could be seen. After fuming in silence for a few seconds, he screamed at the top of his lungs, "I HATE HUMANS!!"

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"Ugh... I hate magic," Wylliam sighed from his seat in the stands as he whatched the Open Challenge. He then remembered that he was the only one of the party still in the stands, at which point his scowl deepened a bit. Though Wylliam told himself (and anyone who would listen) that he hated magic because it was a poor substitute for real strength, the truth was that he hated magic because he was absolutely abysmal at it (one moment at the Apprentice Order stands rather clearly in his mind which involved a poorly casted fire spell and Skaol's surprisingly flammable hair).
 
Alumar had eaten the bowl of what was best described as; The mystery substance. And to be an arse with the guards, this time he kept the bowl, with a poor attempt if a slick grin.

Suddenly, the sound rater simmilar to a bashed door, was heard. Alumar did not get his hopes up, after all, he didn't like to get disappointed.
The guard smiled and stated in a completely normal tone of voice, "Do not worry, that is probably Gorgack, and if its not, the person will most likely nor find the secret entrance to the basement." he stated with a grin.
Alumar thought of screaming, but the guard assured "You can scream all you want, the basement is soundproof" with a grin.
Alumar grinned back "Then, how did we hear the door being crushed, eh?". The guard drew breath to say something, but stopped. Obviously Alumar had a point.

Alumar took the chance, he summoned all his remaining strength, since the mystery substance food-like thing, was not something that gave much of it.

"I'm down here, there is a secret enteran*" Alumar shouted at the top of his lungs, but the guard had thrown a rock at his head. Making Alumar slightly in a daze, as a slow stream of blood started running from the left side of his forehead.
 
(No problem Professor, I do think as well that is better to postpone our match for after the tournament)

As he plunged himself into the pitch blackness that enshrouded the inside of this old manor, Cairn could not avoid feeling uneasy by the amount of malice present in the air. Nonetheless, he knew he had promised the girl to help her, and Cairn was not willing to break his promise. Sword unsheathed and firmly held by both hands, the old knight immersed himself further in, the visibility grew thinner as he ventured deeper and deeper. Suddenly, a faint echoing voice could be heard from below, it was as if it were calling for aid. Due to the distance, the message could be barely understood; nevertheless, he was able to figure out parts of it.

"Secret... Entrance..."

The words kept echoing all around him, and still Cairn was able to determine the source from where it came. To his left and below! Cairn thought as he fixed his eyes on an odd looking wall. There he saw a painting (grim reaper harvesting the souls of the dead) that was hanging on the wall. A message lied inscribed at the lower left corner of the picture: The path to oblivion lies below.

"Oblivion....Oblivion....Torture...PRISON!"

Cairn thought this was the secret entrance, so he decided to place his sword leaning against a wall and then he approached the painting. Carefully, he removed the painting and placed it leaning against another wall. Then Cairn grasped his sword and held it with both hands. He rose his powerful blade and with a single downward strike he shattered the secret wood door, revealing a hidden passage. A torch was hanging on the wall, so he picked with his left hand as he kept holding his blade tightly with his right hand.

Downstairs he found a grim scene, corpses lied rotting on a few prison cells, but he did not allow this to trouble him. The stench was quite unpleasant, but not to the point of being unbearable. As he went deeper in, Cairn found a single room sealed by an iron door. This was the door he was looking for...
 
"You arse" Alumar muttered to the guard. The stone obviously hurt, and the guard grinned in satisfaction.
Alumar listened for a while, but heard nothing. So, there where 4 possible things that had happened.

- The first where that the entrant was one of the guards. If so, his plead was in vain.
- The second, was that the entrant did not hear him, and had left.
- The third, the entrant heard him, but did not find the entrance.
- And the last. He heard him, he found the entrance, and is on the way.

Alumar hoped for the last, but the odds where against him. He leaned his head back against the cold dirty stone wall, and looked to the roof of equal dirtyness.

"I guess I'm in here for a while more. As they wont even let me die" He thought to himself.
Which is true, the last time he tried to starve to death, they strapped him to a table, and used some form of injection, that kept him alive, and burned ad F'ing hell.
So, even if the mystery substance tasted like crap, he preferred that to the other choice.

He so longed for a good glass of whine, and a good meal....
 
"Now, where did Cairn get to?" Hera walked down halls and corridors, along with Felldoh, Jake, and Brome, searching for his soon-to-be opponent.

"You know," Jake interjected, as they passed what seemed like the fourtieth corridor. "We could always just try to sense him." Hera almost stumbled. He mentally slapped himself in the face, feeling idiotic that he hadn't thought of that sooner.

"Sense him?" Felldoh asked, testing out the phrase like a new tunic.

"Yeah," Jake replied. "Gramps and I can feel people's energy. Each person has a unique signature, kind of like a fingerprint, and we can locate them like that."

"Not quite," Hera corrected, closing his eyes and concentrating as he spoke. "We can sense the general direction, not the exact location. As we get closer, it becomes easier, but from afar we can't pinpoint them." It took a moment before Hera found Cairn, and he even had to do a mental double-take before he withdrew from the concentration and
turned to the others.

"Wierd," he muttered. "It shows Cairn as being underground. He's not too far from here, towards the town I think." He turned to Felldoh and Brome. "Here, each of you grab hold of one of us. We'll have to fly there to make good time."

Felldoh and Brome looked bewildered. "Fly?" the mouse said uncertainly. "A-are you sure? We're not birds, you know..."

"Please, as long as you hold on tight, there won't be any trouble." Jake grabbed hold of Brome, carrying him with the the mouse's back on his right arm and his legs over his left. Turning to Hera, he said, "Here, I'll take Brome. You get Felldoh."

Hera nodded and took hold of Felldoh much in the same way, both flyers ignoring the yelps of protest from their cargo at being carried so indignantly.

* * *

The two landed outside a house (and a rather large one at that), staring towards the ground. Throughout the entire trip, short as it were, Hera had kept his mind focused on Cairn's signature. It had led them to here, to a manor of some sort.

Ignoring Felldoh and Brome's kissing of the ground (they had not enjoyed their trip), Hera took stock of the surrounding area.

They weren't too far from the Coliseum, and Hera could still hear the roars of the crowd as the exhibition match went on. They were in flatlands, mainly, with the occasional cluster of trees. But the gaunt house itself attracted Hera most.

It looked almost like a rat would, when curled up and deprived of care. The house was worn and beaten, obviously abandoned for years prior to the present. It was of an old make, even for this planet. The makeshift shingles were falling off, and there wasn't a single window that wasn't cracked or broken.

But Hera was concerned more with the smell than the appearance. Even from here, he could smell the very decay, the bitter-sweet scent of death. There had been lives lost here, but not all of them.

In the same general direction as Cairn's energy signature were a cluster of other signatures, one of which felt as though it were perpetually on the edge of the Dark Forest. It kept fading in and out, like a candle on its last flickers. Something was amiss; all the other signatures were healthy and whole.

Hera drew his sword and walked up to the door silently, placing his back against it. His sword, head, legs, and tail were the only things that appeared outside of his wings, wrapped around his body like a bat. With a quick flick of his tail, Hera motioned for the others to follow him silently. A serious expression crossed all of their faces, and they swiftly joined him near the door.

He unfolded his wings, though only slightly, and used his hands to direct the others. Jake would watch the back, while Felldoh would go up front with Hera. Brome, given a spear by Felldoh, would stay at the door and silently watch for intruders, keeping a very low profile.

With that, they went in. Jake didn't dare transform into a Dragon, lest the light and whispering flames make their presence obvious. Instead, he kept the Soul Shredder held at the ready, while Felldoh kept a spear and launcher handy, with the others hanging across his back.

With a quick push of his finger, Hera pushed a door open, located behind a painting, the remains of which creaked on it's hinges. Cairn was down this way, the destruction made that much obvious. The damage to the door was new.

What greeted Hera was a stench so rancid and deathly that he almost fainted on the spot.

Littering the prison cells at the bottom of a stairway were corpses. All three of the warrior's noses ached and brought tears to their eyes (with exception to Hera), though with the latter it was difficult to say whether it was the stench, anger, or sadness that they felt for the dead.

Without further prompting, Hera walked down the steps, followed by the other two. He saw Cairn, staring at a barred iron door at the end of the hallway. Struggling to keep his stomach inside his body at the smell, Hera walked up just behind Cairn. He whispered to the warrior, his speech almost as silent as a breath. "It's Hera Ledro. We're here. Don't explain, let's just get in there and do what you came to do."
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From the other side of the door (where Cairn was standing), the guard could hear several tremendous clashes against the door. The sound got louder, and louder until then.....

BOOM

An explosion ripped the iron door apart, leaving only melt fragments of steel enveloped by fading flames. Smoke ran through the room like a raging river, and from within the thick cloud of dust, the figure of Cairn was hidden, the fire that once emerged from his left hand slowly extinguished. The guard, alarmed ran to Cairn to strike him down, but he was easily dispatched by Cairn's mighty sword. It only took a back step accompanied by an intense forward slash that cut through the man's torso, sending him flying and crashing against the steel bars, bending them due to the tremendous amount of force used.

Cairn slowly walked towards the prison in which the prisoner known as Alumar lied (although Cairn did not knew him...and only heard that name in legends). "I am Cairn....I suppose I was sent here to help you..."
 
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