Sticks and Stones
(Dated for April 23-24)

"I saw a man with a sword. He slaughtered hundreds.
I saw a man with words. He destroyed worlds."








He didn't voice a word.

It wasn't that he was completely disregarding the strange trio with smells he could hardly stand. It was a simple refusal to speak to anything or anyone for fear of the poison in his head. It was for fear of calling back the ghosts that had sent him this direction in the first place.
It was for fear of losing his last heroes.

At first, he hadn't noticed the harpy's rake of claws against his back -- being far too used to scars in that area of flesh anyway to take much care. So he sat there with the stoic, guarded, cynical flare in his eyes that didn't have to see the horrors around him to know they existed.
He sat there, still listening to the trio even as pain began to seep its stinging path through his back. He breathed as deeply as he dared in the rank, stinking air and when the three beings fell silent, he knew it was his time to gather his thoughts and put them to words.
But Renne still didn't say anything.
His voice had gotten him into enough trouble already.

It was one thing to replicate paper or parchment fabricated in Rhy'Din -- the chemical makeup alone was a difficult thing to recall and put to use. It was far easier to reconstruct the rare parchment-like substance used as paper from his own place-time.
His People had developed virtually nothing in the way of literacy.
His People, therefore, had little use for paper.

In this hostile kind of world, Renne had learned that words were like emotions -- they could cut deeply no matter what order they took.

Renne kept his face virtually expressionless and straight-faced forward as he gathered both thought and writing tool to put his thoughts down. He didn't know if trees could read but down here, if they could talk, maybe they could read. Or, if not, the Human or the Demon might be literate. He hoped.
He'd begun to cherish his own rudimentary skill early on.

So as he sat and wrote his thoughts down, he penned two letters. One was securely bound and set to the winds in hopes it may find its recipient.
The second was cast as well, but the weight of it alone mirrored the heavy burdens that kept souls down here for eternity.

Intermission: Feeling like a bit character in an RPG.
(Just trying to have a little fun and cause a few smiles... is that so bad? Now, roll for initiative...)


The human had a rare, but brief, moment to think... and feeling as woozy as he was (and he knew it, just how dizzy he felt), he had no shock or surprise at his thoughts;

I feel like a character in an RPG game getting ready for a boss battle. Think about it; I'm the Druid/Mage with a Shape-Change ability, Derek's the Fighter/Mage with Weapon Specialization, and the Tree-Guy is the Monk with +4 to his strength when fighting bare-handed. Wonder who Renne would be... hmm... he'd be the Illusionist/Alchemist... yeah... that's the ticket... wonder what I'd hit for on a natural 20? Heh, ten more skill points and I can get 'Know Lore'...

The human began chuckling for a moment; he knew video games and RPG's weren't real, and he knew there was more to reality than even he could explain... but that didn't stop him from having a little fun now and again...

...even in the pits of Hell. He just hoped there really WASN'T a dragon in this particular dungeon...

Sticks and Stones
The Heart of the Lion
(Proceed with caution)


The moment Renne started charging forward, so did the other three. Derek was the faster of the three, so he reached the hounds well before the others, using upward swings to send two at a time flying into the air, and continued in this fashion, hacking and slashing at every Hound within reach.

The Tree-Man was right behind Derek, and the first Hound he met that tried to bite him, he would throw himself into it. He was instantly surrounded by salivating Hell Hounds, but they soon discovered that this particular human was trouble; his punches and kicks came in lightning-fast volleys, a feral, animalistic snarl forming on his face.

The human that had sacrificed himself for Renne was the slowest of his little 'group', but not from a lack of trying; he was busy performing a rather tricky spell to help give them the edge in battle; of course, that meant he was an easy target, and several Hounds had already attacked him, circling him and taking swipes now and again, snapping at his legs. The human bore through it all, and finally, the spell was ready. Making sure Renne was well enough out of range from the ambient magic that was about to take place, the human cast a circle about him, inscribing it with archaic runes even HE didn't understand; but the children did. He brought out the three hairs of Matthew that he had saved, and focused upon them... using those hairs as a focal point, he cast about the Oblivion for Matthew's soul... and found it. Pulling with all his magical might, he dragged Matthew back from the Oblivion... and the moment Matthew was back, he was fighting.

He was stuck in the Oblivion, neither thinking nor dreaming, neither awake nor asleep, yet because the human had been carrying his hair, a personal item, so to speak, he had been able to know what was happening... and he knew a fair share about the Hell Hounds. After-all, Satan had tortured the hell out of him... literally. Matthew began hitting the weak spots of the few Hounds stupid enough to attack him, crippling them for a few moments... but if that had been the answer, a battle wouldn't have been needed. There wasn't just a handful of Hounds per person...

There were thousands of them, and each one was the size of a small pony, though some came in a larger variety.

For the most part, the Hounds acted like a black tide, simply rushing and attacking whatever was in the way; the handful that went after Renne were leery, however, uncertain how to proceed, so they simply circled him, snarling and snapping at him occasionally.

Derek was tireless, but there was also an endless stream of Hell Hounds coming his way, so he kept at it, slashing with great arcs and cleaving with tremendous blows, but the Hell Hounds were starting to memorize his attack pattern, and dodging...

The Tree-Man had since forgotten his previous life; oh, he remembered everything that happened to him, but he had forgotten what it was like to be alive; he felt nothing, he didn't breathe, and he wasn't bound by physical laws, but even he was having difficulty landing hits after a while, as the Hounds had stopped attacking and simply started pacing him.

Matthew, also, wasn't being attacked, though he was obviously a huge threat, with his knowledge... and he instantly began analyzing what they were doing. Unfortunately, this pattern of attack was new to even him...

The human, however, wasted no time. He merged with the Lion, only instead of becoming the Anthro-Lion, he shifted fully to a lion the size of a Clydesdale, with a fiery mane and a white-hot flame at the tip of his tail. His paws were engulfed in white flames as well, giving him a truly intimidating persona, his eyes burning with flames and light, and without waiting another instant, lunged at the nearest Hell Hound, crushing it beneath his paw with a snarling roar. The Hounds pacing him yelped but refused to break formation, and watched in terror as the Lion went on a rampage...

But what the Hell Hounds had wanted wasn't precisely to just defeat them; oh, that was the FINAL goal, but they had at last achieved what they wanted. Every fighter was now separated by a mass of Hell Hounds from each other. In essence, they were singled out, without any swift avenue to assist any of the others... a typical, but efficient, hunter formation, one that had been the downfall of many a damned soul trying to escape. But the Hell Hounds hadn't counted on something MUCH bigger than them to join the fray...

For minutes, or even hours, everyone fought on valiantly; the Tree-Man throwing Hell Hounds at each other, Matthew crippling them with strategic blows, Derek cleaving many of them in two, the Lion decimating ranks at a time, always keeping an eye and ear on the others, disregarding his own injuries, though they accumulated swiftly. It was precisely for that reason that he saw them; demons hiding in the forest, taking aim at all of his comrades with rifles. The human didn't know what to do, as he swiped at Hounds aplenty. Who would most likely be their first target?! Should he try to get to them!?

Derek was too busy concentrating on the huge Hell Hounds that now appeared, each the size of a stallion, to notice the demons hiding in the pitch-dark forest.

The Tree-Man was too lost in his own animalistic battle to realize the potential danger they were ignoring, focusing instead on breaking as many Hell Hound bones as possible.

Even Matthew, very obviously strategically intelligent, had failed to take into consideration the Beast Tamer demons would even be here to watch the fight...

And Renne... the human could only GUESS what Renne was doing or thinking, only that Renne was holding his own as well as anyone; the human had somehow lost sight of him in that black mass of death.

The human made a decision, snarling as a Hell Hound leapt onto his back to bite at him. He lunged forward suddenly, shaking the Hell Hound off his back, and ran at the forest. The Hell Hounds immediately guessed what he was doing, and tried to get in the way, but the speed and the heat of the flames prevented them from getting too close. The children were assisting, working the legs tirelessly, the Lion itself working the actual movements, and the human controlling the thought process; they worked together like a team that might have been training for years just for this one act. The human didn't know if he would make it in time, he didn't know what would happen once he got there. He didn't know what he would do if one of his friends were killed because he was too slow... that drove him faster. Renne, Derek, Tree-Man, Matthew... all of you... please... don't die!!! The forest drew nigh as all the demons took aim at one target; the human didn't know who or what. His muscles contracted and like a living spring, the coils of muscle within him released at once, with a mighty jump, sending him into the air at them, roaring at the top of his lungs, shaking the trees and the ground alike, claws extended and ready to strike. The demons turned on him instantly, and then a sound equivalent to thunder rang out, echoing to the farthest reaches of Hell...

*KA-BOOM!*

"RENNE!!!" A voice was heard, and then a lion roared with pain...

Sticks and Stones
Hunting rabbits with a cannon

The shot rang out with a horrible noise, and following after it was a scream; a single word, a single name.

"RENNE!!!" And then the sound of a lion roaring in agonizing pain. Such a terrible noise it was, to tear at the hearts of even the Hell Hounds, for they flinched, and they cringed with the backing up motion of a dog fearing retribution for some crime it was innocent for. It spoke of agony beyond a mere gunshot; it spoke of regrets, of memories awakened in the flash of lightning and torn from the darkest depths as the iron embedded itself within the body. The human cried within his own mind, his mouth refusing to form, or rather, unable to form the sounds his heart and soul made when in this much agony. I... I failed them all... please... forgive me everyone...!

Derek snapped around as he heard the shot, his eyes wide with terror and fear, his own chest feeling like he bore Atlas' burden, despite the lack of a real heart. His eyes threatened to leak tears he was unable to produce, his body shaking with so many different emotions he wasn't sure if any of it was real.

"No..." He whispered, not even comprehending the Hell Hounds weren't attacking anymore...

The Tree-Man froze in place, one Hell Hound grasped in his hand, the other hand ready to crush its skull. His body was paralyzed, as if struck by lightning, his body like a marble statue that bled. Blood pooled at his feet, but he didn't feel faint. The Hounds were retreating, but he didn't pursue them; his body had gone numb. He even dropped the Hell Hound he was holding, but didn't notice that it whimpered as it fled... he just stared at the great lion as it writhed upon the ground.

"Not again... no... NO!!!" The Tree-Man screamed; once again, he had failed to protect someone...

Matthew was more susceptible to emotion than the other two, so he had no problem screaming in agony of his own. For so long he had waited patiently for redemption... for so long, he thought he was alone. Then he met the human, stolen from his life for the act of saving someone? The Hell Hounds around him would have struck... except they had to worry about their safety; Matthew snapped, his mind rent into several pieces, his body going rigid, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. And with a scream most frightening, he tore into the Hell Hounds like a beast unleashed, berserking.

The demons that felled the Lion were rejoicing... until they heard the music.

Only this music wasn't something you would want to hear coming your way. You generally wouldn't want to hear it, even if it was on your side, because you might question if you were next anyway.

The others, except Matthew, watched as this nine-winged creature went flying towards the forest. The Hell Hounds were retreating from it, and Matthew followed, tearing into the ones that Renne missed.

The demons in the forest reloaded their massive rifle, readying a shot at the nine-winged monster, but suddenly something large and fiery lunged at them swiftly, and with a great crunching of wood and metal, the jaws of the Lion closed upon the rifle, shattering it, causing a backfire that burned the side of the Lions face, but doing little else. The demons shrieked, and they would have stabbed at the wounded Lion with their knives and swords, but at that point, the nine-winged beast appeared...

The human laid on the ground in agony. The bullet had pierced his chest and penetrated a lung. Even the Lion was having difficulty ignoring it; as a Spirit, they were, theoretically, immune to death in the conventional sense. But as Satan had proven with Matthew... there WAS a death for the dead. It was called Oblivion, and it was THE final end. It was nearly impossible to recover a Spirit from Oblivion unless you had a personal item of the Spirit... and you were one REALLY powerful Shaman. The Human had been able to recover Matthew for several reasons, despite his lack of power. First of all, Matthew was only recently 'dead again'; as with real Resurrections, the 'fresher' the dead person, the easier to raise them again. Secondly, as a Spirit, the Human was more in touch with his spiritual abilities, so it was easier to access his fullest potential with the assistance of the Babylonian children and the Lion, and finally... the children and the Lion. With their power boost, skill, knowledge, and the humans natural abilities, retrieving Matthew was possible...

But wounded as they were, they were forcibly reminded of the terrible agony of death; the Human had frozen to death. The children...? Many of them starved. Some were raped and then murdered. Some killed themselves to escape the agony of sickness or torture. Some of them had been pierced with arrows... many of them knew the agony of being pierced through the lungs with arrows. It was a thousand times worse being pierced by a bullet. They all relived their individual deaths, and then experienced everyone else's demise. It was, for want of a better word, pure, horrible, agonizing torture. And they cried...

"I don't want to die again... I have to protect them..." The human said through the Lions body. Great tears leaked from his eyes, soaking his face fur and the ground... blood soaked the ground as well, adding to the stench of the air... but masking it as well. His blood smelled more coppery than regular human blood, it carried a strange scent to it, un-discernable yet oddly familiar. "Please Renne... help me!" The human begged. He knew that Renne was near... he didn't know how he knew, but he could feel it in his bones. "Matthew... Derek... Renne... Tree-Guy... please... forgive me... I'm sorry... I tried to save you all..." The human cried, weeping great salty tears... the smell of death was thick here, but the Lion was not dead... yet... The human was fading in and out with the children and the Lion... the strange, strange thoughts of the demons in their mind. The Hell Hounds sectioning them off... the demons trying to snipe them with a rifle... a RIFLE! A rifle so big it needed three demons to even wield it! Talk about hunting rabbits with a cannon... "Renne... it hurts... it hurts so much everyone... please... don't leave me here... I don't want to die..." The words were choked, as the human struggled to form them with a bleeding lung. The pain was nearly palpable... so tangible, even the trees began to cry for his pain...

Sticks and Stones
Paradoxis: The Healer
(Dated for April 26-27)

"If there exists Anger and Damnation, then let there exist Mercy and Redemption."









He wanted to run.

He wanted to help them.

He wanted to leave all of this behind just as the world had left him behind.

It couldn't be done.

For all that had tainted him, for all that had turned an eye and deemed him evil, Renne could not surrender to the Hunter's whispering, enticing voice. He heard the cries, heard the hideous thunder and the sound of things falling dead to the ground.
Renne did not hear himself sing.

For all that he had heard, he didn't hear himself sing.

But he sang.
Loud, clear, soft and haunting, he sang to the beasts, the trees, the living, the dead and the dying. He sang to them, for them and at them. To some, his voice held a streak of dark, unforgiving anger. For some, his voice held the tune of a weary child, broken before his time.
And still to others, his voice sang of heroes and hope.

He didn't feel it as the darker, fighting side of himself split off from the pale, shining Empath. He felt nothing, nothing at all in this numbness of in-between -- oh, he knew what was going on, but like the one time before, he had neither control nor sensation of it happening.
The Healer and the Fighter split off from one another, leaving him torn into pieces of two. Two halves of the same being drifted like individual ghosts and sang their dark-light songs of hope-revenge and despair-strength. The Healer took with it the little gemstone that gave root to Logic, Rationality and the Pacifist.
The Fighter took with it only itself, singing a song that would make any Bean Sidhe howl with jealousy at its enticing, angry, maudlin wail.

And the Healer did what it did best.

It laid itself bare to the Humans, the Trees, the Dogs and the Demons, daring them all to look into the useless eyes of a being that neither had a soul, nor lacked one.
It sank to the ground beside the fallen and whispered its songs, stretching out like some wraith hungry for a wound to consume, to cleanse. It sang of golden laughter and oaken strength.
It whispered of far-off oceans never to be sailed upon.
It touched like a butterfly wing -- ephemeral and light but its residue left a heavier, more definite effect.
The Healer did its duty as it was permitted.
And the Healer prayed.

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray someday, a soul I'll keep
If Redemption I may find
To my heroes, faith might bind.

Sticks and Stones
A rose, by any other name...

"Goodnight, goodnight, parting is such sweet sorrow." -Romeo Montague


The Lion laid upon the ground, though he was not still. He writhed, doing everything to stay conscious. It wasn't easy; the pain was unbearable, he wasn't sure how long he could hold on. He didn't know how long he would last. He was already in Hell... for a crime he was entirely guilty of, though the word 'crime' would be too extreme, for who could condemn a person, human or not... for trying to save a life? Apparently, someone could, else the human wouldn't be here. But that didn't matter anymore. He'd cross that bridge once he was top-side. After-all, now that the wound was healing and the bullet being expelled...

Huh?

The pain was subsiding. The wound was closing. The bullet was wriggling free of the wound, and fell to the ground with a loud THUNK! The Lion and the Children weren't sure how, but the human did. And he spoke. And for anyone listening... if they could not hear the pure, unbridled gratitude and love in his voice, then they might as well be dead at heart. The fact his healer was minus an actual heart meant nothing...

"Renne... thank you..." The human said... the Hell Hounds were all but obliterated. Matthew was carving a bloody path to and from the forest. In the Spiritual Realm... such as Hell, or Heaven, or even the Umbra, perhaps, it was possible to BECOME your true 'form'... as a spirit. Some people were truly monsters at heart, so they became monsters. Some people were truly healers, so they became a creature that could heal. Rarely had this or any other world seen such a being that was both.

Renne was one such person.

As the Fighter tore into the demons that felled the Lion, and as the Healer healed a stranger, Derek and the Tree-Man stood near... though admittedly, they were using the Lion and Healer as a shield to ensure the Fighter didn't mistake them as targets. They all of them heard the song, they all heard the names muttered. The names meant nothing to any of them... but the human seemed to be able to tell how important the names were... and while he desperately wished he could be selfish and hear his own name, he knew Renne didn't know it... and he was too polite to say anything.

Fortunately, Demons had no such qualms.

"Hey, Blue Kid..." Derek said to the Healer. "Add some more names to that list... I'm Derek, the Demon. The guy out there carving up the Hell Hounds is named Matthew... hey, Tree. What's your name?" The Tree-Man stood there silently, and then raised his head.

"William. William Wilberforce Harrison." He said softly, his long, grungy hair swaying in the breeze created by the Fighter's wings. "What about him?" William asked, looking at the Lion. "What is his name? Does anyone know it?" He looked expectantly at the Blue Child, but received no response he could hear... and he was too impatient, too agitated to wait for one. "Derek..?"

"When he possessed me, I managed to look into his mind... never have I seen such chaos." Derek muttered. "He comes from a world where someone LIKE the Blue Child existed... and that person died. But now the Blue Child himself is here... and it's created a split in his memories. He knows of a world where the child doesn't exist, and a world where he does.*" Derek muttered. "He's a good kid... honest... open... straight-forward. A little on the blunt side... quite jaded from so much betrayal in his life... but he still has the ability to trust people. It's fascinating, really... His name..." Derek paused for a moment to gather his wits. The Hell Hounds were nearly all dead now, and Matthew was coming back, slowly, and William went to assist him, helping to carry him back. They were all gathered around the body of the Lion. Finally, Derek took a breath, having finally sorted through the chaos of memories he had gathered from the humans mind.

"His name is Dustin... but he goes by Dusty." Derek whispered.



*: Refferance to 'The Dark Tower' series, book three: The Wastelands. The character of Roland suffers from a similar problem of paradoxical memories.

Sticks and Stones
Lead the way!
(Be prepared to chuckle a little)

"What is this, some kind of fun house?!" -Mr. Salt
"Why, having fun?" -Willy Wonka (Original)


Renne fell to the ground, and WOULD have met with sand...

Had the human not damned the rules and whatever else he might have thought applied and caught him.

Renne had just saved his life... the life of a human stranger. Dusty didn't know why or if Renne was even aware he had done it, but he was grateful never-the-less. And he didn't care what it took, he'd prove he was innocent of whatever crime he had committed.

"Any of you blokes know the way out of here? I came with the guided tour last time and got seperated from my group." Dusty said with a smirk, causing Matthew, William and Derek to share a glance; that was... odd. Cracking jokes...? In the pits of Hell?

"Er, yeah... but we have a problem." Derek said gently.

"Yeah? What's that? Oh, don't tell me we're out of the petite marshmallows for the hot cocoa??" Dusty said, and everyone shared another significant glance; this was REALLY odd.

"No... we're surrounded." Derek pointed out... and indeed, there was in fact several hundreds of demons standing at the ready, weapons pointed, arrows knocked and slings twirling overhead. Dusty held Renne that much closer, shielding him from view. This is... bad.

"I can make a path..." Matthew said, panting gently, but William held him back.

"No, you're too wounded, let me do it; I don't remember being alive anymore, so they can't tire me out." But even he, for all his talk, showed signs of tiring, so Derek sighed gently.

"No. I'll clear the way... Tree-Ma... William. The way out isn't any different than when you came in; guide them out, will you?" Derek hefted his sword and walked towards the demons, glaring. "Dusty... Matthew... William... Blue Kid. Thank you. All of you... gave me the courage to defy my fate. Thank... you..." And Derek began to focus his energy, readying himself to fight... when he felt a presence beside him. He looked, and it was William, standing at the ready, a sword in his hand that he pilfered from one of the fallen demons. "WILLIAM! I SAID-!"

"Yeah, I heard you." William said, and stood ready. "But if we all fight, we can all get out of here. Nobody gets left behind!" And he watched as Matthew joined the ranks too, cracking his knuckles.

"Let's do this." He said, his voice at a normal volume. "We'll slow them down for you guys! Hurry and get the Blue Kid out of here!" He shouted at Dusty, who was glaring.

"LIKE I'M REALLY LEAVING ANYONE BEHIND!? SCREW THAT!" But he was at a loss of what to do; Renne was in his arms, and he wasn't moving right now. Renne couldn't fight... and honestly, he was just as tired. But he wasn't leaving everyone behind!!! "Never again will I let anyone I care about be set adrift through my inactions..." He found two shields near the pile of leftover demon corpses, and picked them both up, stuffing Renne up his shirt and tucking it into his pants to keep Renne close. He held the tower shields close to him, his eyes scanning the circular formation of the demons. "This is bad, guys..."

"Well, THANK YOU Captain Obvious!" Derek growled. The demons were starting to close ranks and move closer... "Guys, we may not make it... but we can at least buy Dusty some time, aye?"

"Aye." William said, willing to lay his life... well, his afterlife on the line to help his new friends.

"Aye." Matthew said. He'd already faced Oblivion AND Satan. To die now... helping to save a life or two... would be the greatest thing he had ever done... and the demons began to charge.

Until they heard the music. It was an unearthly beautiful, yet bone-chilling melody that seemed to resonate from the ground, the trees, even from the clothes they wore. It was beautiful... yet it sang of death.

Only this music wasn't coming from Renne. It wasn't coming from any visible source at all! The demons all began to shift nervously, not daring to attack while that deadly music played...

"YAH!" A deep voice shouted, and several demons were cleaved in two, dissipating into smoke instantly.

"WHOA!" A collective gasp arose from the escapees; they couldn't see who this new fighter was, even with how TALL he was! The music kept playing... it was a strange kind of music, almost flute-like in sound, and it now began to produce an invigorating melody, one that brought to mind woods in which you easily became lost... yet the melody prompted you to move your feet. Fast.

"GET OUT OF HERE! FOLLOW THE HAWK! REVANCHE, LEAD THE WAY! I'll follow once I've dealt with these... interlopers." The owner of the mysterious voice instructed, hacking and slashing at demons aplenty with a sword that seemed almost impossible for anyone under seven feet tall to wield. To add to the oddity of it all, a huge, magnificent pair of wings arose from the black smoke of the demons, a pair of wings that closely resembled a snow owls wings. A golden colored hawk was hovering in the air, screeching loudly to her owner in compliance. The others didn't hesitate; they knew, though they didn't know HOW, that they could trust this strange giant of a man... but Dusty remained behind for a few seconds, staring at the figure through the smoke. An odd scent upon the air... fruit. Apples, and good, clean earth...

"Who are you!? Do I... know you?" Dusty asked, puzzled, confused. The warrior in the smoke paused for only a moment, and seemed to be grinning about something. He didn't answer at first, and instead sliced at several demons that came too close to following those that fled. Suddenly, the smoke began to clear and a pair of golden eyes stared through the haze.

"No. But don't worry; I'm a friend." The warrior said with a deep voice. "Go on! Follow Revanche, that hawk you just saw! I taught her the safest route out of here, but you must hurry!"

"What about you!?" Dusty yelled, even as he began stepping back towards the path.

"Don't worry about me, human, just get Renne out of here!" The warrior said, and demolished more demons, thickening the smoke again. Dusty stared wide eyed, but didn't ask questions; he ran down the path and caught up with everyone, holding Renne close. When he was gone, the warrior gave a grin. "Heh... good to see you again, Renne." He said, and using his left arm, which was made of plants for some reason, he slashed again with the sword.

The hawk, Revanche, lead the way unerringly all the way to the river Styx, where Charron and Cerberus was waiting to impede their escape. Derek, Matthew and William readied themselves to fight, but Dusty simply grinned and handed a shield to Charron.

"Here, this enough silver for all of us?" For indeed, the shield was inlaid with silver and other precious gems... Charron immediately nodded, and gestured to the boat... which left Cerberus free to try and attack. But Dusty had had enough; he wanted to be free of Hell, NOW. "Back off, puppy." He said, but Cerberus didn't take notice, and roared at him with all three heads.

"Um, Dusty, he never went to obedience school." Derek cautioned him, but Dusty simply grinned like a raving lunatic.

"Oh, don't worry... Cerberus... c'mon boy..." Dusty said, and picked up...

...a stick.

"Oh, no..." Derek groaned. "You don't actually think he'll..." But he trailed off. The moment Dusty picked up the stick, Cerberus began panting. "............" Derek's mouth, along with Charron, Revanche, Matthew and Williams mouth all hung open.

"C'mon boy! Get it! Get it! C'mon get it!" Dusty waved the stick back and forth, and Cerberus' heads followed it enthusiastically. "FETCH!" Dusty yelled, and threw the stick as far as he could, using a little energy to make it levitate even further down a tunnel, and Cerberus, with three mighty barks of happiness, gave chase to it. They swore, as Cerberus bolted down the tunnel, they heard a faint, echoed,

"PLAY!"

They all boarded Charron's boat and were ferried across without incident. The final stretch of tunnel was in sight... the light was shining through... they were almost there!!!

"We... we made-" Derek began, but Matthew, William and Dusty covered his mouth.

"Wait until we're top side WITHOUT a thousand and one demons chasing us, THEN you can say it!!!" Matthew hissed. Dusty began chuckling about something, which earned an incredulous look from the others.

"I was just thinking... those demons... what if they were really Arab damned souls sent here by mistake?" Dusty asked. Derek gave a groan, but Matthew and William were still confused.

"What would that have to do with anything?" Matthew asked, and Dusty grinned.

"What if they also happened to be part of the royal army?" Dusty asked, and now Derek AND Matthew groaned. William, however, was still completely lost.

"I don't understand...?" He admitted. Dusty simply chuckled.

"We've definitely got some stories to tell, don't we?" Even Revanche looked like she was trying not to groan, but STILL William was lost, so Dusty just said it. "If they were, we just went through a Thousand and One Arabian Knights." Even Charron looked pained by the terrible, terrible, TERRIBLE pun...

They made it across. They climbed through the tunnel. They went THROUGH the portal... and entered the bitter, freezing cold. It was another blizzard, and Derek saw two Archangels awaiting them. He flinched and cringed away, but they took no notice of him.

"Thou hast returned." Michael said to Dusty, who had yet to cross the boarder. "Your body awaits you. Simply overlap it, and you shall return to life." Michael instructed. Dusty flinched, and set Renne down near the shield.

"What about William and Matthew? Will my... can I...?" Dusty began, and Michael shushed him.

"Have faith, child." And so Dusty did; he overlapped his own body... and with a painful jolt, felt like he had just awoken from a long, deep sleep.

"BWAH OH DAMN! IT'S COLD ENOUGH TO FREEZE THE BALLS OFF A BRASS MONKEY!!!!!" He shouted, causing everyone to chuckle. Dusty then ran and grabbed Renne and held him close; now that he was sober, he could stay awake better. "C'mon Renne... let's get to a warm town." Matthew and William, now incorporeal spirits, floated along behind him, breathing- well, technically they didn't BREATHE, per se -a sigh of relief. Revanche lighted on Dusty's shoulder, shivering, so Derek conjured a thick fur coat and draped it on Dusty's shoulders. He then grabbed the jewel-encrusted silver shield Dusty had managed to salvage from Hell; it might fetch a good price in town, if they needed gold.

"Well, how about it...? Will you really say it...?" Derek asked, and Dusty grinned. He leaned close to Derek and whispered a name that nobody else could hear... and Derek grinned. "Thanks... boss." Derek said with a grin, and together, Demon, Shaman, Blue Kid, Hawk and two spirits braved the blizzard towards the closest town. The human, Dusty, knew that his actions in Hell had seemed strange to the others, but that was only because they didn't know him. If his brother-friend on Earth were alive, he'd tell you... Dusty is such a silly asshat, and the way he stays calm under pressure is to crack a joke or ten. It wasn't that he was crazy- he was, don't get any misconceptions -it was just that he was goofy.

A-hyuck.