Die Hafen, Act II

"God DAMMIT"Tanaros yelled when he saw the boiling corpse of Trevor. He thought he knew who Trevor felt, and he would probalbly have accepted the offer if he were Trevor. But now he only shared his pain, his loss and his hatred. Being an undead might have been fun in the beginning, but these days he his soul suffered. The only thing he could think of was all that was lost, everything he won't see again. Hatred against the world, pain and suffering. He wasn't even pleased after killing others these days. Memories came back, he wanted to go home.
"I always wanted to die for a purpose. Maybe now's the time. Maybe..." he thought and he made a decision. He had always waited for this moment. He knew it would come, one day or another. Maybe this was why Hades had denied his soul.

"Thanatos tora!" he scream at the top of his voice, almost happy, while he jumped towards the deamoness with his gladius in front of him. He didn't care about protecting himself any more. Maybe this wasn't the time, but that didn't bother him. It could accually end now.
"Eleytheria!".

Or, maybe, this was just another dump decision... "Well, soon I'll know..." he thought to himself.

 

Seeing that the greece charging the Archon, Potiri started to mutter a foul language, similar to that he had spoken earlier, and when he was finished the gladius of the greece started to glow red, and it started to smoke a little from it.

If you wanna kill a demon, you need a weapon of great power, if you wanna wound it, you need that he said when he had finished.

Then he charged straight on the Archon but found that he couldn't move.
When he looked down he saw that his feet's where coverd with web and he couldn't move.

What!? When did she got time to do this to me? He thought and
started to cut it in an atempt to get free.

 

The demoness was starting to get nervous. Some of Hells elder demons was as good as jumping up and down on her. If she could finish of the filth below her, though, she might be able to escape with Trevor as her prize...
Lucky thing she'd ensnared the mage, though. He could get annoying, using his powers and magic. She knew what he was capable of, and she didn't want him to interfere, at all. She shot out another stream of web towards his mouth with one of her free legs, just to be sure.
Now was the time to destroy the demon below her. Drachenmune Flammentodd, a tough bastard. But as everything else, he had a limit.

With all her remaining six legs she pounded at Drach, not possibly trying to kill him, but just to remove him from the battle. The other undead fellow she didn't care for; he was way too slow for her, even IF his sword was enchanted.


Then, Trevor arose, his left eye covered with molten skin. Just looking at him was enough to start vomiting in disgust, his skin dripping from some places on his body.

"Please, everybody, stop..."

He said in a bagging tone.

"Just stop, and listen for a while..."

 

If you wann speak, spea mmhfmhfm. Potiri was cut off in the middle of a sentence by a shot of web from the spider demon.

Dammit! if only that Trevor hadn't caught his attention! Not only was
hes feet stuck, but now he couldnt speak either!he thought.

When this happend, he rose his sword, and cut one of his legs free and started to release the other one. When this was done he reatread from the battle and was starting to get his mouth free.

For f*ck sake! This is real bad. If Baal finds out of this I don't know what he gonna do. I need to get over with this real quick.

 

The demoness seemed to be dancing on Drach's chest, and broke a few ribs in the process.
"Gah!! Damnit!"
Drach yelled, bringing his legs up toward his chest, and he kicked the demoness into the ceiling.
He rolled back from his extremely vulnerable "on my back" position, and stood up, holding his ribs.
Drach looked at Trevor, and was instantly nauseated.
"Trevor? By God, man, I'm sorry!" Unfortunately, there was nothing Drach could do to take away the damage his flames had caused. How do you cure the dead?
"Please, everybody, stop..." said Trevor, "Just stop, and listen for a while..."
Trevor's voice had a pang of sadness and exhaustion, and he seemed to gurgle his words from all of the burns on his body.
Drach brought up a new flame shield, while at the same time brandishing the Flaming Sword.
"But I-very well."

 

The demoness, now sitting in the ceiling, stopped her attack as well. She wanted to see where this defeated undead wanted to take this; maybe he was going to give up?

Trevor looked through his still functioned right eye, at Drach and the others, who so unjealously had jumped directly into a battle possibly not won by them. For HIS sake. They'd tried to rescue HIM. An undead.
Up to this day, he'd always been treated as filth or worse by almost everybody else. This was the first time since he became undead that somebody'd decided to fight with him, and not against him.

He took a deep breathe, and continued:

"Why don't you all just stop fighting? There is no need to try and rescue me anymore. Just look at me, for christs sake.."

He said this last thing with a hint of laughter in his voice; No matter how bad the situation, he'd always managed to find something worth laughing at about it.

"I know you all believe this demoness to be the only source of menace in this event, but I beg you to think again, for it is not. Sure, it was her plan to lure me and my wife into her cavern to feed upon us for eternity, but it was I who made the choice to ABANDON HER. It was I, and not her, that failed my love. And now, I've gone and killed her. Forever."

Tears started to drip from his eyes; this was supposed to be impossible, yet they were still there. Tears of agony and despair, falling to the ground in the darkness of the cavern.

"Please, just... Just stop fighting. I don't want to be the cause of anybodys death any more."

He fell to his knees in a most, for the viewer, painful-looking way, and picked something up from the ground.
It was the dagger from before.
It shone with a cold light, and almost illuminated the whole of Trevor, where he sat in the darkness.

" I go now", he said, "But don't you worry; I won't go to her..."


"Farewell"

e stabbed the blade into his chest, and then instantly fell backwards to the ground, hitting it with an echoing thud. He remained still, as the light shining from the blade fainted and left his corpse in the darkness of the spiderdemoness lair.

 

The silence seemed to linger in the air for what seemed like eternity. The combatants seemed stunned, the spider somewhat disappointed. Trevor had just commited suicide in Hell, a cardinal sin regardless of where you were. Now presumably he would pay for his sins as the newest resident of Hell, and the Judge would decide his fate....

Then clapping came from the entrance of the cave, slowly at first, then picking up in pace, followed by a gusty laugh, "Bravo! Bravo! What a terrific death!", cheered Samiel, a twisted smile on his face.

"That was the best bit of drama I've seen in quite some time!"

His smile faded and he stopped clapping, so quickly you'd almost think it didn't happen.
"So now what? Are you all done pissing Her off, or will more of you perish for my entertainment now?

"Or, will we move on and continue our quest for vengence?", he said in a cold and heartless manner, his aura of light fading to a dull glow.

 

Drach heard what Samiel had said, and snapped back into reality.
"Staying in this cave is pointless, now...I've nothing to defend, and I doubt defeating Her would solve anything. If that is, in fact, possible.
"By the way...You all may call me Uriel. I think Drach is something my former brethren of the Fire Tongues gave me."
But why have I not ever seen my opposite?
"I feel that it's best to leave the cave. After all, The Morning Star won't be happy to find that we've attacked his wife. That, and I need my heart back."
Uriel began to walk out of the cave towards those few who remained outside.
"I feel as though I've 'decieved' you twice, Samiel. I'm not really a demon. That being said, have you seen someone like me before?"
Uriel glanced back at Trevor, and noticed something peculiar about the knife. He "knew" that, for some reason...it should be left alone.
It's probably nothing...
"Hmm...what do you suppose that knife is made of?"

 

Drach, or Uriel, said,"I feel as though I've 'decieved' you twice, Samiel. I'm not really a demon. That being said, have you seen someone like me before?"
Samiel looked hard at Drach-Uriel, familiarity now starting to dawn on him, his eyes widening, He issued a salute with one fist across his chest, "Uriel. Is that you? Arch-Angel who guarded the Garden of Eden with a flaming sword? We'd all assumed you'd fallen off the celestial-coil, so to speak..." His tone was guarded but light-hearted. "I'm not sure if I should welcome you or slay you where you stand? Either way, Arch-Angel Abbadon will not be happy, of that I can assure you. And The Light-Bearer will be enraged if he finds you here....

"Are you who you were mentally before you entered the cave, or are you now another?"

His tone was nuetral and inquiring, but his hand rested tensely on the pummel of his sword, his forehead creased intensely.

 

"God, I'm bored", Liz said and then chuckled. Somehow, using God's name in vain seemed more amusing in hell. The light from the cave-entrance had faded. She thought for a while before deciding that she had waited long enough. She had gotten bored of this side of the styx, and though she reckoned the next layers of hell would be more fun, she felt an urge to go on with her *true* mission. She didn't have the time to wait for her party-members. Besides, she was losing her powers here in hell. She was so comfortable here. She had to keep her edge. So she walked into the elevator and pressed "up".

The way up seemed much shorter than the way down, and a bit later she found herself back in Die Hafen. The place seemed deserted. She stood still for a while, scanning the scene. Then she heard something coming from the exit. The exit to the human plane.

"Hello anyone there?" A voice said. It was a firm voice, probably used to shouting commands.
"Uhm... Yes?" Liz answered.
"Haha, it's a woman sarge!"
"Well then, let's have some fun then. Eh, boys?"

A group of four soldiers rushed in. Wherever they went, the people they had found had been terrified of them. Here they met a woman, extremely well dressed considering the circumstances, looking at them with mild interest. They hesitated, and Liz took a few steps towards them. One of the younger soldiers, who hadn't expected this kind of behaviour at all, fired a shot at her. It missed, but it was enough to fuel Liz' rage. She took a firm grip around Friedrich's staff and leapt towards him while swinging the staff at him. It hit him right in the nose and he fell down screaming.

"Bye bye", Liz said teasingly.

Then she "hid". She stepped back as she watched the soldiers empty their rounds at nothing but thin air. But there was something wrong. Suddenly the leader of the group started shaking. It got more violent, and then a dark shadow started emerging from his eyes, nose and mouth. Before she had the time to react, a horrible being of shadow stood before her. It spoke:

"I can see you..."

It screamed at her, which was like being hit by an explosion. Luckily Liz' enchanted corset absorbed most of the impact, or it might have gone real bad. She was knocked into a wall, and as she scrambled to get up, she accidentally pressed the elevator button. She raised Friedrich's staff at the being and suddenly itw as writhing in agony. Flames erupted from its nose, eyes and mouth, just like the shadows had done from the soldier. The following explosion blew Liz back into the open elevator where she passed out. The door closed, and for some reason the elevator started going down.

Liz awoke from her slumber back in hell. Just where she had fallen asleep, right next to the elevator.

"Hmmm, so that's how it works", she said to herself.

 

"I am, as I have always been, myself. Now I simply know who I am."
Uriel felt the left side of his chest. There was a heartbeat, but it was faint. It felt as if it was miles away...which it was.
"Samiel...Lucifer took my heart. Literally. He has it sitting next to him on level nine. I need some way to get it back. If he somehow finds that I've remembered myself, he will crush it.
"I know now why Death had given me his sword when he met me...it wasn't about His decree. Death knew who I was. I accepted it out of respect, but I guess he felt I might need a 'tool of the trade,' so to speak.
"Anyway, after all that had happened with the Snake, I was brought to Heaven to maintain guard upon the Saved. After that time, an army of demons assailed Heaven, and took me prisoner. That is when I became Drach, some 1500 years ago."
Regardless of what has happened, we must still go to level nine, for my heart, and for my personal blade, Gram, the sword that clove an anvil in two.

 

Samiel listened to Uriel's story, and looked into his soul to divine the truth. Satisfied that he believed what he spoke, and that Uriel posed no immediate threat to himself, he let his hand relax and fall away from the pummel.

"It sounds as if you might need to find some way of regaining your heart from Him. But that will have to wait until after we visit the Armorer on level four. Our way will be trecherous and wrought with danger, and many of you may die. This will be your last chance to leave, for once we begin descending into Hell, the only way out will be a secret entrance in the center of the Ninth Pit, the land of the Treacherous, and abode of Lucifer.

"Before us on the other side of the Styx, lies the First Pit, where the Virtuous Pagans reside. A place of Limbo for those who did not believe in the Lord, but led saintly lives regardless. While there, DO NOT KILL anyone who resides there, or you will incure the Wrath of God, and Addabon will become aware of our presence. If that happens, I will be forced to side against you, as I am subbordinate to him. Then you will be on your own....On the First Pit, we will go to the Castle there, and convince Socrates to give us a key. Without this, we will not get past the Third Pit.

"Next, we'll travel to the Second Pit, the realm of the Lustful, and the beginning of Hell that many are familiar with. We must be VERY careful, as the Judge Minos is there. He weights the hearts of men and women, and then determines there fate. Few make it to Heaven from there, most are cast into one Pit or another for eternity. If he catches us, things will become extremely complicated....

"The Third Pit is where the Gluttonous reside. A foul, stinky realm covered in Garbage and Filth, where a storm of freezing dirty rain is always falling. Here, we must confront the Cerberus, a three headed dog-demon with a ravenous appetite. We must either answer his riddle, or fight him, for he guards the Gateway into the deeper parts of Hell, that is opened by Socrates Key.

"Finally, we will enter into the Middle Pits of Hell, and find ourselves in the Fourth Pit, the land of Hoarders and Wasters. An apt place for our Armorer I must say, since he no longer wishes to share his weapons. This land is wrought with the greedy and wasteful, who roll giant diamonds in opposing directions for all eternity. I find these sinners to be some of the most entertaining for me, as they never get anywhere, but never stop trying.

"At the very edge of this Pit, next to the Fifth Pit of the Wrathful, is the Armorer. His fortress is a huge. monsterous black citadel of pain and torture, the sounds of agony always coming from within, when he tests his weapons on unfortunate sinners. The moat in front of it is filled with boiling blood, where angry men from the Fifth Pit have settled, eternally fighting each other, and anyone who enters.

"To get there, we will need a guide who is familiar with the upper pits, so I will call upon one of my trusted soldiers who is a master scout, to help lead us to Cerberus." With that, Samiel drew his sword and raised it slowly over his head. It began to glow brightly, and started reverberating, making a dull humming noise. Then a beam of light shot up into the air and disappeared into the dense cloads above.

"He will arrive shortly, and then we can go. Those of you not up to the challenge, should exit now.

Adandon hope, all ye who enter here....."

 

"Samiel, you forget, all who is here has enterd hell. Hope is gone since a long time ago. Now there is only demons and veil". Potiri said with a grim smile.

"And since this seems to get intresting, and Shaw has to be defeated, I will follow you and help you with the armourer. As you know Baal to has great influence here in hell."

And with these words Potiri sat down on the ground and started to ramble softly, or as softly you can with the voice of a demon.

"Suasor Potiri Deicám et proditrix su est. Suasor Potiri Deicám et proditrix su est" and he did this for a few seconds.

When he was don he stood up.

"Samiel, your scout better be here soon, or I will summon one of my own"

 

There was a sudden cracking sound from below the party, and then the earth split before them. Out from below came a short, thin, common-looking imp, one big horn triumphing on his forehead. The other horn seemed to've been cut off. He wore nothing more than a black loincloth and two iron looking shoulderpauldrons. He also carried a small scope and a brutish-looking short-spear by his waist.
His skin was red, and he had a quite noticable overbite, with big, pointy, yellow teeth showing in front of his chin. His eyes were pitch black.

Oi, masther, whadda you wanth? I wahs down in the fourth pith, feedin' on them sinnahs'. Ahn who ahre these fohlks? Never seehn them before, have I. Ahn one of them loth is an angehl? Masther, whadda're you doin'?

The little imp looked both frustrated and confused as he watched the party in front of him. Sure, he thought his master was a bit... funny, at times. But to bring angels down to Hell? It just didn't fit in this poor creatures eyes.

Maybe his master had been captured while on earth? That could be it. That whisper-bugger was with him. If anybody was up to doin' strange things, it was him. Ky'Nareth, the imp, put a hand on his spear, just for reassurance.

 

Tanaros felt as if he was alone in the cave. No one took any notcie of him, and the only person who he accually cared of in this party had just... died?

"He... cried...that's impossible." That was the only thing he thought about. A feeling, a strang and unfamiliar feeling, something he had forgot, arised inside him. It wasn't sadness, nor love or hate. He felt that he really had to do something for Trevor. Killing wasn't what he "lived" for anymore. Somehow, the death of Trevor had done something to Tanaros. He wanted to know what have just happen, and most of all: He wanted to feel, to cry, to miss someone and be missed.

He put his blade in his belt and the shield on his back. He probably wouldn't need it right now.

"I don't wanted to be alone anymore. But what am I supposed to do? I can't see any way, nowere to start." he thought while looking around in the cave. His eyes stoped at the corpse of Trevor.
"I guess I could give him a decent funeral... Maybe it won't change anything, but I really don't want to leave him here."

He went to Trevors corpse and picked it upon his shoulder. He ignored the knife as it fell to the ground. The demoness looked at him with thense eyes but the corpse wasn't worth anything to her anymore. Then, Tanaros walked out of the cave with Trevors corpse, picked up his backpack and headed towards the river Styx.

Trevor, your braver than me, you wasn't afraid. I always thought I was one thing and the world another. I never thought I needed anyone, I thought nothing would scare me. I've changed my thoughts. I don't want to die alone.

 

A scrawny Imp crawled out of the ground, and stood looking about, somewhat confused. Then a waft of foul breath preceeded his words, Oi, masther, whadda you wanth? I wahs down in the fourth pith, feedin' on them sinnahs'. Ahn who ahre these fohlks? Never seehn them before, have I. Ahn one of them loth is an angehl? Masther, whadda're you doin'?

The pale white orbs of Samiel's eyes bulged slightly at the sight of the foul-smelling imp before him, anger streaked his face. That was the only problem with that 'call minion' spell, you never knew what you'd get. No matter, he would be educated....

He raised his arm high and back-handed the beast hard enough to knock it a few feet back, leaving it spralled on the ground. His voice now took on a more commanding and terrifying tone, "Foul smelling Imp! I have called you here to guide me and my guests. You Will not speak to me or them like that again, or I will feed you to the Cerberus myself! He kicked him in the side for emphasis.

Deciding not to confuse the simple Imp with to many instructions, he decided to explain only the basics, "You will lead this party to the Castle of the Virtuous Pagans, where we have business to conduct. Do you understand?"

 

After seeing Samiel backhand the Imp a yard or two and give it commands, Uriel was shocked. Not that he wouldn't have slapped the foul-smelling runt; He just wouldn't tell it what to do afterwards.
"This...thing. How can you bear to talk to it?"
Uriel eyed the imp that was now splayed out on the ground. In no light would this thing appear worthy of sympathy. Add that to the fact that its loincloth had shifted during its flight...
"Whatever, it's not important. How complicated should it be to convince Socrates of our plight?"

 

Potiri was standing focus in something that could be very far away. When the imp arrived, he shock his head and came back to reaility. And right after Samiel had punched the imp down, he spoke, with a smile on his face.

Samiel, there is no need to hit the imp. Just destroy him and I can summon a proper scout from the lower rings of hell, one that can't speak properly. Or did you summon the wrong imp?

When he said this he started a vague wavering, as if he would do a spell,
but wasn't serious about it.

Do you want me to show you hows it done? Or should we go?

At all time saying this, Potiri looked amused of the situation, and the fact he could mock Samiel a bit really was entertainment.

 

Potiri was muttering some nonsense about Samiel's scout, which did nothing to improve his mood. Anger started welling up within him, his inner rage being fueled by some ignorant upstart miming his actions since he'd met.

If you wish to venure alone, be my guest. But I will not tolerate your demeanor much longer.... He spoke to Potiri in a cold and icy voice, a hint of threat interlaced, and refused to look at him.

Then he turned to Uriel, "This thing is the second best scout of the upper planes, and will lead us expediently toward our destination, or I will boil him alive for a hundred years.

"The best scout is unfortunately involved in a lower-planes skirmish at this time, but may be able to join us later, if need be.

"Socrates should be cooperative, especially when we inform him of our reasons. The difficult part will be finding our way through the twisted forest, as its always changing. We will depart soon."

 

Ky'Nareth slowly raised himself from the ground, his entire body screaming with pain from his masters punishment. He then turned to Potiri, who'd called him something with "worthless" in it, and gave him a hateful glare. He got to his feet and limped back to Samiel.

Sorry 'bout dath, masthur. If you justh leth me, I'll lhead you loth intho them deeper piths. So, if that angehls don' whalzin' abouth, we're off.

He stared at Potiri again, and added, as a response to his previous taunts:

Ahn, justh so you knows, sah, I'm noth huseless ath all. I'm the masthur scouth in these parths, so don' you walz 'round mockin' me, you enchanthing thwath.

And with that, he gave Potiri a taunting snarl, and turned around to his master again, with a big smile of satisfaction on his lips.

Showed thath basthurd, didn'th I, eh?