Die Hafen, Act II

The elevator was making it's slow, slightly trembling way towards the vast, fire-filled plains of hell. There was quite a few individuals in the elevator now; demons, angels, an other and even some undead people had decided to go on the dangerous journey to Hell, to try and stop the man Jack Shaw, who'd recently attacked Die Hafen, and killed it's owner, Friedrich Schneider.
In the midst of the party stood an old man, dressed in a rustic jacket and some old manchester pants. He wore spectacles even if he didn't seem to need them, being undead and all, and on his head he wore a small, broken, hat.
He glanced the others with mild interest; they were all powerful, indeed powerful. Or at least they thought they were, if they took on a as dangerous quest as to actually try and kill Shaw himself. Trevor had once had the pleasure of meeting Shaw one on one in a back alley not far from Die Hafen. It was because the fact that he couldn't die that he got away from Jack in the first place, Trevor being hit by all sorts of spells and bullets all the time.
He nervously tapped his walking stick on the elevator floor; he'd only been to Hell once before, and it hadn't been the most pleasant of experiances.
It was still some way to go, and the party stood there in the darkness, in complete silence, just whaiting for some brave sould to brake it...

 

In a corner in the back of the elevator stood a man in a long brown leather robe coughing. His face was covered by a grey scarf, which muffled the coughing, and a dark brown floppy hat. He had a big backpack on his back and something rattled inside the backpack every time he cough. If you looked close then you saw his right eye which were completly gray and a nasty scar crossed it. The other eye were covered by the scarf.

"Why am I doing this, anyway?" he thought. "Is there any kind of profit in it? Oh, yes... Revange. That man must suffer. Whatever he is, he MUST suffer. Killing Friedrich, just like that. Who will listen to me now and accually care, maybe not that much but atleast a little, about what I'm saying?"

Leaving Berlin wasn't that hard. The fighting was almost over and no one wanted his help anymore.
He picked up a newspaper, just three days old.

"The U.S.A. has created the first nuclearbomb!"
was the headline on the frontpage. The paper wasn't from Berlin. He had picked it up from a dead soldier in the street. He guessed thaqt it came from London but he wasn't sure.
"Why? It takes away all the fun of war. War is supposed to be man against man, blood, sweat, steel and death. Not some silly bomb dropped from a plane. Were is this world going?"

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep which of course was almost impossible since he's undead.

 

In one of the other corners stood a man with a blindfold over his eyes. Altough he couldn´t see the others, he sensed them, and the thought that circultaded in his head was to get the thing he lost before.

He thought to himself "as long as no one gets in my way, i am pleased."

He tryed to relax and go into a meditation state but was unsuccesful beacuse of all the screaming. "I hope we will get this over with soon."

He sensed something odd about one man but couldn´t really figure out what it was, the only thing he knew was that it was odd and nothing like he had sensed in someone before.

"Oh well i guess i am going to be aware of that soon enough."

He leaned back on the elevator wall and tryed o relax again...

 

Liz looked at the "new arrivals". Some of the patrons of Die Hafen had joined the little party as they entered the elevator to hell.

"So... Who's got business here in hell, and who's just along for the ride?"

 

"Mostly for the fun, I guess." Tanaros said after a time. He put the paper back into his backpack tried to find the person who first spoke.

"I've only been in Hell once before and I didn't find it too charming... just hope we don't have to be there more than a couple of days." he said.

"The heat isn't good for my skin, that's why I don't want to stay." he added after a few seconds.

"I wonder how hot it is in here... and for how long we have to stay in this goddamn box." He thought for himself. He looked around and searched for another "paleface", just to see if there were just divines or if there might be someone he knew in here.

 

Aerth turned around in the direction he felt this person whom he hadn´t met before.


".... I´m looking for something and if you guys don´t get in my way, i´m fine with whoever i´m riding along with"


He waited for a few seconds before opening his mouth again.

"And who are you, if i might ask?"

 

Trevor turned around to face who ever stated the question, and found, to his suprice, that it was a human. She was more than brave to volounterly go to Hell, still being mortal and all. He waited for the other two to answer, and raised an eyebrow at the demons reply. He actually threatened all of the people in the elevator at the same time. Not very wise, if Trevor was set to judge.

"I, dear, am here for my own reasons. But I think I have something in common with most of you in here:"

He paused and gave the people in front of him a small, cruel, smile.

"Revenge."

 

Illikane felt the anger building up inside him, the deeper the elevator went the worse it got. It was as close to hatred as an angel could get.

"I must make this journey as brief as possible." he thought to himself.

He had brought Thaye along, but she wasnt looking too happy about it.

"Cheer up Thaye, we won't be long... I hope." he said to her telepathically. She replied with a grumpy skwawk.

"Hmmmm... listen, I have a job for you. Keep an eye on that human, Liz. If you see anything suspicious you tell me, okay?" he continued.

"It would be my pleasure, master." she replied sarcastically.

Illikane heard the human trying to start a conversation, obviously a hard thing to do with such a mixed crowd. He decided it would be best to keep his profile as low as possible.

"Not many angels in hell now are there?"

 

"What was that? So much hatred.... I wonder."

Aerth tryed to find the source of the hatred he had felt just seconds ago, but couldn´t.


"I guess i have to find out who´s it is later."

He heard the human speak his words, and the only thing he could think of at the moment was how very weak the human race is.

"How much longer must i wait in order to get to Hell? If only the elevator would stop sooner!"

 

Drach stood in the elevator, eagerly awaiting his journey home. There was much to tell his Fire-Tongue Brethren, and he also needed to ask a favor of them.
"Is everyone ready? The die has been cast, there's really no turning back, anyway. Ah...new faces and, I'm guessing, new strengths to add to our motley crew..." Drach paused.
"Was it just me, or does 'motley crew' sound somehow familiar to the rest of you? Whatever, I am Drach."
He surveyed the group, seeing whether or not he was able to discern their strengths and weaknesses, should they prove un-trustworthy.
*ding-dong*
The elevator's bell rang; they had entered the first level of hell.

 

The elevator trembled slightly as they arrived in Hell, and then the doors opened and revealed the gateway to Hell, the river Styx, before them. It was not hot here at all; on the contrary, it was freezing cold. And instead of the red-hot mountains and the eternal fires most people thought of Hell as, the party seemed to be in some kind of giant cave, made out of black, cold, stone.
But, since Trevor no longer could feel the cold, he stepped out without any hesitation and turned to the rest of the party.

"Um..." he began, "I don't think that they'll welcome us undead fellows in here, even when accompanied by you divine. However, I've got something to deal with even out here, so you, Greek fellow, why don't you come with me, eh?"

A twenty metres or so in front of them were a boat in the water, and in front of it a man. He was always there, only to carry the most unpleasant sinners to the deeper levels of Hell. He watched the party closely.

"An angel in Hell, eh? To think what our buissnes has come to be in recent years.."

He mumbled, and continued watching them as they stepped out of thin air, from what seemed as an invisable elevator.

 

"Ah, atleast I'm not ALL alone. Guess following him can't be that dangerous to follow him." Tanaros thought to himself.

Tanaros stepped out of the elevator and followed the person who apperently were undead.

"Been here before, have you? I mean after death, if you understand me..." he asked as the started walking.


" Hmmm, this isn't how I remembered Hell. But, on the other hand, this is probably much better than eternal inferno." he thought.

He had to admit one thing: Hell hasn't been that unpleasant so far... But what he really wanted to know is what Heaven looked like.

 

" Something has definitely happened here." Aerth thought to himself.

" very wel, i will follow this stranger and try to stay out of the way if trouble shows up "

 

"Well, Charon, how've you been? Did anyone stiff you?"
"Drach? Ha! No, no one's come up short. Surprizing, really. You'd think the dead had nothing to give. Besides, most of the people who get here don't need to go any deeper. I'll let you on for free, seeing as you live here, and all. Well, hop aboard, everyone!"
Drach smiled at Charon, the ever-present Boatsman. After stepping onboard the small craft, it suddenly grew to accomodate the party. What once was more of a dinghy became something like a Viking Longboat.
"What do you think of 'er? A fine vessel, if I do say so myself. I still haven't come up with a name, though."
"Well, some things need no name. Anyone 'big' come this way?"
"Only Caligula. He's the only guy worth noting in the past two millenia. He had the gall to call me his new horse, and demanded that I let him sit atop my shoulders during the ride across The Styx. I wasn't having any of that, so I tied him to my oar and used him to paddle the rest of the way. I think he's only made it to level five..."
Listening to Charon tell his tales as the one and only Captain on the River Styx, Drach began to drift in and out of his own thoughts regarding home.
He honestly did not remember much from before his first day as a Fire Tongue. In truth, he's been counting his age from that very date, and does not know how old he really is. His brethren would gleefully chronicle their early days as mere imps, working their way up the ranks of hell to become some of the most feared fighters in Abaddon's army.
From what the others told him, Drach had seemed to appear out of nowhere. He never really thought he fit in back in level nine, but it wasn't as if he was inept as a warrior. He was just as good, if not better, than those with whom he sparred. He was just a world apart from his clan...
"And that, my friends, is how I became known as Mike Honcho. Hmm? Oh, we're here! Alright, everyone, disembark slowly, and try not to think of something you hate. It tends to fall from the sky...in swarms."

 

Trevor walked in the different direction of the boat, and turned only to see if his myrmidon friend still followed him, or if he trailed behind, for some reason. Even if most of Hells red and scaly inhabitants liked the deeper levels more than the purgatory, there were still some of them here, as well as some bad spirits. And they were, unfortunetly, some of the worst.
They'd made a deal with the devil himself to "take care of" any daring soul who had the guts to go adventuring or exploring the underworld of the first level.

Trevor knew one of those.
She was the reason he was here.

He took out a piece of old paper from an inside pocket in his jacket, and then walked with his head bent over it, as if reading a map. Then, suddenly, he stopped, in front of what seemed like an ordinary cave entrance. Of course, those who knew they'd come to Hell knew that wasn't just any cave entrance at all: It was a deamons lair.

Trevor looked at it, sighed heavily, and drew a knife, wich he then hid in his jacket sleeve. He turned to see if the greek was still there.

"Oi! You still there? Can't quite see you in all of the mist, heh... I hope you're good handling that sword of yours, 'cause else I don't think we're getting much further, know what I'm sayin'?"

He sighed again, and turned to the entrance.

"Anyway", he continued, "Let's carry on."

 

Tanaros put his backpack on the ground and took out his galdius. His finger moved across the blade, as if he was saying hallo to an old friend. He also took out a large roundshild, mostly because he liked to have it in his hand. Helmet and torso was left in the backpack. Then he picked up his backpack and hurried after the other guy.

"Can I really hurt davils and imps when we are in hell? I've heard that artifacts could hurt them and of course my gladius IS a little bit old but I don't think it counts as an artifact." he said, since he had never tried to attacked divine before.
"Oh, and by the way, what's your name? Maybe you said it before but my mind is slipping away from me."

He followed his companion into the cave, since he didn't find any better option.
"I really wonder what we're doing here. I haven't heard of any undead that were "allowed" to visit Hell a second time." he thought as they traveled along.

 

The sinners screamed vile hateful words at Samiel, even after he cleaved them in two with a dreadful looking sword that had razor-sharp teeth instead of a blade. Bits of flesh and blood splattered on him, but dissolved almost as fast, preserving the cleanliness of his garment. The sinners would eventually find their severed parts and become whole again, only to rise up and be cut down again by his wrath.

A strange sight now caught his eye, Charon's ship was ferrying people across the Styx, but not where they should be. The dead always crossed in masse five miles further down, to await final judgement by Minos. There, their heart would be weighted and the majority cast into the depths for eternity. These tresspassers were trying to circumvent the Judge, and thus needed to be punished.

He extended his wings and prepared to engage these infidels, when a man began yanking on his tunic, and then threw bloody mud onto his gold chest plate, cursing him all the while. It dissolved instantly, but the intent was not lost on him.

"Be gone filthy sinner!", he roared and split the unbeliever in half from the head down, his separate parts still trying to scream at him as he was pulled back into the boiling lake of blood by the others.

He flew toward the newcomers with unnatural speed and stopped before them about thirty feet in the air, wings fully extended and feathers splayed out, his black sword now bright white/red with flames dripping from it. A look of pure hatred and anger creasing his brow and distorting his appearance, creating a terrifying mask on his face.

"I am the Angel Samiel, General of the Seventh Legion of Wrath and Vengence, commanded by the Arch-Angel of Destruction, Abaddon!

Who doth tresspass into the Lord's Pit without first seeing the monsterous Judge of Hell, Minos?!!", he roared.

"You will cross with the others and meet your fate as is prescribed, or you will be slain a thousand times before I shove you into tiny vestibles one bit at a time!" At this point he noticed the group before him was not the normal batch of sinners; there were undead, human, even a demon! He sniffed the air before him and then focused on the demon in human guise before him.

"You...you stink of them! Are you responsible for this transgression?! Defilers and Traitors recieve the worst treatment of all, even for those of the Pit.", he emphasized his words by pointing with his sword at Drachenmurane Flammentod.

EDIT: corrected some typos

 

Aerth simply followed Trevor, but always on his guard.

 

[OOC]Itachi, I don't mean to be rude, but I would desperatly like you to write longer posts, even if it could turn out to be quite hard sometimes.[/OOC]

Trevor entered the cavern, now more reassured, as one of the demons'd decided to follow him in there. He knew what they were up against, and he knew that he needed to get close, really close, for his weapon to have any satisfying effect.

A demon was just what he needed to lead the attention away from himself; the creature in here didn't care for her allies: they were food as well in her foul, twisted eyes.

The cavern was pitch black, and Trevor was more than frightened when he entered. He didn't want to bring any light in there; drawing attention to himself just wasn't what he needed right now, at all.
He suddenly felt something against his right arm.
He had to fight hard not to scream.
And when he tried to move away from whatever he'd hit in the dark, he realized he'd got stuck. He then felt a sudden jerk in the thing stuck to his arm.
Two bright, shining eyes were opened in the distant ceiling.
This time, Trevor screamed. Loudly.

" Bugger! BUGGER!!! OI! You! Greek guy! Cut me loose, quickly!! They're coming! SHE'S COMING!! "

Sudenly, the entire cavern was filled with the insane sound conjured when billions of small feet move very fast, indicating that whatever was there, it was on the move. And the thing in the ceiling seemed to move, too; the shining eyes were getting closer by the minute.

 

Potiri was on hees way up to Earth and Die Hafen when he saw 3 persons enter the cave of the Spider Demon, so he went up to the cave entrance
and said,

hey, you know you shouldnt be in here, you should be on your way down on Styx, not wandering around in here.


then he notcied that one in the party of 3 was a demon and he wounder
why a demon would join 2 dead ones for some adventuring in hell...