Requiem for Themelio: A Dirge for Tartarus (Still Accepting!)

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Once Darius' arm was healed, he balled his hand into a fist one finger at a time. He did a quick punch into the air so as to test if it was back to normal, which it was. "Not bad. My own healer at least took a day after an expedition to repair my injuries". He put his gauntlet back on. What was amazing really wasnt the fact he didn't flich from his injury, but that his armor wasn't at all damaged from that attack. Darius was quite skeptical of the demon's suggestion on how to get out of these caves when she herself was lost. "If you have an idea of how to get out of here, then why haven't you tried it on your own? You have skills in necromancy as seen from what you did to that hound corpse I kicked your way. You could easily raise a force to protect you while you tried your idea". Whatever this demon's idea was, she likely wasn't concerned for our safety in the long run. Darius could tell since he had encountered many types of people that used others as shields to ensure their survival. He was not intending to become such a simple pawn if there was a low chance of survival.
 
"Oh, you saw that? Quite the observant one." Iris mused, facing the dragon tamer, ignoring the comments from the Cleric. If she was going to be rude, she had nothing to say to her. She gave her credit, though. She didn't seem to be completely indoctrinated by the church if she was willing to work with her. "You think I could make an undead army from nothing? I need bodies for that. Good, bodies. An undead Imp is unlikely to do anything aside from drool on itself and scare little children. Now, you skilled, strong, adventurers are another story. I could force you to be my undead slaves....but I'm not. There wouldn't be a point to it. Besides, doing that to such...attractive, mortals as yourselves would be a disservice to the world." She chuckled, before taking a somewhat more serious tone.

"That said, you all aren't going to like my idea. None of us know our way through these caves, and navigating them without a map is said to be impossible. However, there is someone who lives down here. Perhaps we should ask the Styx, for help?" She doubted the Styx would just agree to help them. The spirit was volatile, and easily agitated. No doubt it was enraged by them merely being here. She could have handled the spirit herself, probably, But there was no garuntee of that.
 
"You want to ask the Styx?" Welda demanded, as she shrugged her shoulders. "No, I shouldn't be so surprised by this. If I can still alive when dead, a living spirit of the river shouldn't be so confusing." She then paused, raising a single index finger as she realised something, and moved forwards a few steps, staring in the darkness straight ahead of her, unaware that there was nobody in front of her. "If we are indeed dead, wouldn't we be undead? And since you are some sort of necromancer, shouldn't you be able to control the undead?" Once she had said this, she pondered for a few seconds before retreating to her original position, placing her hand on her longsword, though as an act of caution rather than a threat. "Unless, of course, we are truly alive and were transported to this world moments before our actual deaths as a means of survival. All of us here seem to be good people - churchgoers or nobles or leaders of some sort, right? Is it possible that we were saved because we were... chosen?"
 
"What an obnoxious woman," thought Ijani to himself. "Damned zealots, always so self-righteous. It's disgusting." Ijani bit his tongue, trying hard to avoid mouthing off against her and alienating himself from his potential allies. "Whore of Tartarus? Really?"

"Oh you saw that? Quite the observant one." mused Iris, referring to the necromantic minion sitting obediently at her side. Until Darius mentioned it, Ijani had yet to notice, and when he did he found it fascinating. Though he had read about it in several books, he had yet to ever see it performed in person. The distraction helped to quell the anger he had been bottling.

Unable to resist, he walked over and gave the dog a prod with his staff. It didn't so much as flinch. "Neat trick - you'll really have to teach me how to do that sometime." He said it half-jokingly, but the prospect of learning a powerful ability like that excited him.

"That said, you all aren't going to like my idea. None of us know our way through these caves, and navigating them without a map is said to be impossible. However, there is someone who lives down here. Perhaps we should ask the Styx, for help?"

"You want to ask the Styx?" Welda demanded, as she shrugged her shoulders. "No, I shouldn't be so surprised by this. If I can still be alive when dead, a living spirit of the river shouldn't be so confusing." She then paused, raising a single index finger as she realised something, and moved forwards a few steps, staring in the darkness straight ahead of her, unaware that there was nobody in front of her. "If we are indeed dead, wouldn't we be undead? And since you are some sort of necromancer, shouldn't you be able to control the undead?"
Ijani was unconcerned with her question. Even if he was dead, he was not a necromantic construct. Necromancy doesn't work that way. "Unless, of course, we are truly alive and were transported to this world moments before our actual deaths as a means of survival. All of us here seem to be good people - churchgoers or nobles or leaders of some sort, right? Is it possible that we were saved because we were... chosen?"

Ijani scoffed at the thought. "You assume that churchgoers are 'good people'."

Turning back to Iris, he continued with a more serious question. "What makes you think the Styx will help us? You can't expect me to believe that all of the denizens of Tartarus are as friendly to mortals as you have been, especially without good reason."
 
"I was speaking to the woman," Welda corrected the man who had answered her in a quite rude manner. "I am unable to see how one so devoted in their religion and in helping others such as myself can't be considered as good people. Besides, I was speaking about those of us present here, not generally. And finally, if the Styx does indeed require good reason to help us, we will simply have to give it some."
 
"Neat trick - you'll really have to teach me how to do that sometime." He said it half-jokingly, but the prospect of learning a powerful ability like that excited him. Iris's ears visibly perked up at this statement, and she gave Ijani a friendly smile. Some would say a bit too, friendly of a smile.

"Cute and interested in Necromancy. I think I just found my new best friend." She giggled. "My incredibly cute, best friend, that I wouldn't mind having...fun, with." She ended the sentence with a salacious wink and coy smile. "After we get out of here alive, I wouldn't mind teaching you." Before she could say much else, though, she was interrupted by the blind swords-woman.

"If we are indeed dead, wouldn't we be undead? And since you are some sort of necromancer, shouldn't you be able to control the undead? Unless, of course, we are truly alive and were transported to this world moments before our actual deaths as a means of survival. All of us here seem to be good people - churchgoers or nobles or leaders of some sort, right? Is it possible that we were saved because we were... chosen?"

"You assume that churchgoers are 'good people." Ijani commented before she could continue. She furrowed her brow slightly as she thought. Now was not the time to be discussing religion and causing a rift between each other. They were going to be working together after all.

"I was speaking to the woman," Welda corrected the man who had answered her in a quite rude manner. "I am unable to see how one so devoted in their religion and in helping others such as myself can't be considered as good people. Besides, I was speaking about those of us present here, not generally. And finally, if the Styx does indeed require good reason to help us, we will simply have to give it some."

"Most of those church goers would kill me, you, and cute little Ijani here simply for existing and not following their beliefs. I don't think that makes them good people." The tall demoness interjected before things could escalate between the two. It was true, at least she hadn't come across any mortal from the church that would listen to reason when it came to not attacking her. Oh yes, she had been on the mortal realm once or twice and had run ins with some paladins from the Inquisition. Zealots, the lot of them who would kill their best friend even if the suspected them of being a so called 'cultist' or if they showed the smallest sign of being 'corrupted' by a demon. "However, at the sake of us working together. Lets not discuss religion until we get out of here. We can all kill each other after we're relatively safe. Alright? Lets discuss something a bit more serious, like the Styx." She continued, her tone stating she obviously wasn't joking one bit.

"You're right." She turned to Ijani. "Most would have eaten you, taken you prisoner, or worse. The Styx is not likely to help us simply because we ask. It doesn't hurt too, though. I would rather avoid a fight." Truthfully, she didn't like fighting and mostly used it as a last resort if she couldn't solve her problems through other means. Iris turned to Welda before she continued. "However, all demons respect one thing usually, and that's strength. If it comes to it, we will have to fight the Styx and defeat it and make it help us whether it wants to or not. If it still doesn't...well, I have an idea but I hope I it doesn't come to that."
 
"Back to the subject at hand…What weaknesses does this 'Styx' have?" The Ronin said as he emptied salt water out of his canteen,
"What would the it need for us to defeat it, besides the cold steel of weapons.." looking up from his belongings on the ground to look at everyone. His demeanor seemed different, more focused and serious, he quickly packed all of his belongings, but kept a small wooden figure out, holding it tightly in his hand as he stood. His son made the figure out of a lotus tree branch from the front plot of his estate. It was for good luck.
The bite in his shoulder now throbbed like a second heart, and a light sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead, but he would not show weakness, to show weakness was to show hesitation. And to show hesitation was a path that he was taught to not follow down.

 
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Welda raised a single brow. "From what I have gathered, the Styx is the river which guards Tartarus, is it not? I understand that the Styx has a spirit or a mind of its own, but I do not understand you when you say we must fight the Styx. Is there something about the Styx that we should know before we advance to its location? In what way does the Styx fight us?" Welda paused, satisfied that she had asked the questions that she had wanted to ask.
 
"Maybe we should grab each other by the ankles and take a dip into the river, like the heroes of yore, but I assume that will not end as it does in the tales." Catherine looked to Ijani and Iris. "And if I killed you now I would have little chance to escape from the cesspool with my life, and in my eyes helping me earns you your redemption from any past deeds. So you have nothing to fear from me unless you try and cross me, then we will have issues."
 
Darius pondered the demon's suggestion. "That is probably the best course of action. In my dealings with wild dragons, we sometimes delved straight into the center of their lairs and directly to them. Since dragons are very intelligent creatures, they are quite curious when something unexpected happens. This would in turn allow us to get close to the dragon and try to converse with it while it is still in this state of curiosity. If the Styx spirit has a high intelligence, it may react in much the same way. Though as to the spirit assisting us, that chance is remote. But it will not likely attack us outright if we go directly to the center of its territory". Darius shifted his attention to Ronin and could tell that he was in pain. He had seen far too many stubborn initiates take their pride above their wellbeing and end up dying from their injures that turned out to be lethal in one way or another. This irritated Darius, so he walked right up to him. He noticed blood stains on his shoulder, so Darius slammed his left hand smack dab on his shoulder. This would hurt even without an injury so the chance of the Ronin holding the pain from that in would be slim.
 
"AAGH!" Iwao roared, dropping to the ground and clutching his shoulder, fresh blood began dripping freely from under his shoulder plate. It was as if someone had driven wooden steaks into each and every tooth puncture. He grit his teeth and stood back up, hissing as he did so, and came eye to eye with the dragon lover. This mongrel had challenged him by making the first strike, he would kindly answer back.
The Ronin lurched forward, aiming for a head-butt to the bridge of the mans nose.
He had been in enough fisticuff duels to know what hurt.
 
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Darius took Ronin's head-butt full on. He could feel and hear his nose break, but his head only lurched backwards in response to the momentum Ronin's head had built. Darius immediately clenched his left hand into a fist and ,being sure to hold back his strength so that Ronin wouldn't end up like the hound he pulverized earlier, socked him upward in the gut. He pulled back his fist after it hit and did a sideways kick to Ronin's injured shoulder to knock him to the ground. Ronin would be stuck on the ground with the wind knocked out of him and the pain shooting through his body.
 
With his forehead throbbing, his arm now numb with so much pain, and the air struggling to wheeze back into his lungs. Iwao accepted the humiliating defeat by curling into the fetal position. This disgusted him, from deep in his stomach to the very blood in his veins he felt crushed and incompetent like the new-blood warriors of his home after the first battle.
He rolled over slowly, and removed the shoulder plate in which harbored the wound, it was torn and inflamed. Swollen, angry red flesh around the wound quivered softly with each pulse.
"You…had no provocation to challenge me…but by the goddess you pack lead in your fists." He said, half cracking up, half biting back pain, and a quarter still drawing air into tender lungs. Defeat was defeat, no need to gripe later, only look for victory in the future. That was what the War-Master had taught him an all of his brothers.
 
"Imbeciles" yelled Ijani, shocked and confused at the sudden, seemingly unprovoked violence. "What the hell are you two doing? Do you wish to save the Styx the trouble of beating you to death itself?" Ijani pointed the spearhead of his staff at Darius. "Explain yourself."

Ijani was certain by now that the man could not feel pain, and though he tried not to show it, Ijani was concerned that by confronting him, he might provoke another reckless attack such as the one that broke his nose. He took on a steady stance in anticipation and prepared himself for a fight.
 
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"They are both fools, and obviously not very well experienced in combat. That headbutt shouldn't have contacted. Did you not notice how he reared back his head?" Catherine said to the dragon tamer before turning her attention to the Ronin, "And you, the wind up he had on those punches, and you didn't even react." She shook her head in dissapointment. "Not to mention how the dragon boy dropped his weapon at first sight of an enemy. How do you hope to go up against anything other than lowly dogs with how you two fight. No wonder you died." Catherine let out a long sigh, "If we have to come against a demon that doesn't have ulterior motives, we are doomed. You two need to figure out your technique before that time comes because I would rather not watch you be torn limb from limb."
 
Welda listened to Catherine's words and sighed. As harsh as they were, they did hold some weight. Without a second thought, she headed over to where Iwao was laughing and, using her sheath as a guide, found his position. She then knelt down by his side and placed a single hand on his arm. Slowly, she moved her hand towards his shoulder to feel the blood trickling from his wound onto her fingers. Without turning her head, she called out.

"Catherine," she said, with a worried look on her face. "Do you think your miracles can heal his wounds."
 
"That is enough." Iris stated, obviously not to pleased with the events that just happened. She gave Darius a glare, one that would send shivers down the spine of any mortal. "I hope you had a good reason for doing that, because you just really made me not like you. Not a good thing." She growled at the dragon tamer. She didn't care if the man had tamed or slayed dragons for a living. They were supposed to be working together here, and allies didn't just randomly attack teammates, especially in a situation like this. "No wait, I don't care what your reason was. No reason is good enough." Why she was so upset at this little event wasn't exactly clear. It did, however, strike a nerve. That much would be clear to all of the mortals. "Cleric," She said, turning to Catherine. "Could you heal the Ronin? I would rather him not get ripped limb from limb by the Styx."
 
"I'll see what I can do," Catherine stated plainly. She was tired from the fight and casting her miracles was not an easy process. It was just about as tiring as a vigorous battle. She walked to the Ronin and repeated the incantation she had done before, whispering into her hands and then spreading the light over the wound. It did not heal as well as the last wound she treated, but it stopped bleeding and after she wrapped a bandage around it he would be able to fight again. It would still be stiff and sore for a while, but he wouldn't bleed out.

"We shoukd start moving if we don't want to be murdered in these caves," She said gesturing for Iris to lead the way.
 
Iwao stood slowly, flexing his arm slowly to and fro. He looked at the cleric, Catherine, and bowed deeply.
"I am sorry that I had forced your powers to work again, on something so silly, and I can see that you are tired.. I regret that most of you now doubt my combat prowess after this scuffle, I am much better with swords than fists." He apologized. After he returned to his upright position he picked up his shoulder plate and the wooden figure, fastened the plate back into position and put the wooden idol on a loop in his belt, where it hung freely.

He simply awaited whatever was to come next, but kept a weary eye on Darius, and one hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword.
 
Darius let out a disappointed sigh as he listened to the others. He quickly fixed his nose back into the right direction and hocked a bloody wad of spit an mucus to clear out his nose. "You people fail to see the larger picture when it comes to maintaining a group. I've lived long enough to know that poor communication will eventually lead to everyone getting killed. I have seen it happen far too many times with groups of initiates. People who decide not to report wounds because they don't want to appear weak in front of the others. Little did those people know that their injures led to at least two people getting killed. Themselves, and the person that tries to save them. In my clan we take injuries seriously. If someone got anything worse than a simple cut or bruise they were out". Darius shifted his attention back to Ronin. "As for you. If I could immobilize you by simply hitting that so called silly wound, how did you think you would have faired against a creature with an intent to kill? The next time you get an injury, go to the cleric. It's a cleric's job to heal the injured when not in combat. If you had gotten treatment immediately. that wound wouldn't have gotten infected and probably would have been fully healed. I catch you hiding a wound that bad again, and I'll kill you myself so the group wont be in danger because someone couldn't pull their own weight".
 
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