Jorge still couldn’t wrap his mind exactly around what Bombardia was telling them happened. The biggest problem he had was understanding who could do such a thing? Who could threaten the lives of hundreds, in one of the busiest places, in the most populated city in America, just to play a board game? It was ridiculous, dangerous, and just plain cruel. Even if they had a control over these powers, they should have known better than to do something so stupid.

But the detective kept his composure. The best way he could do this was to look away and close his eyes in thought. After a second of processing everything that was said to him, the detective let out his frustrations in a sigh and tried his best to enter work mode.

Work mode being: 1) they have a problem, 2) they needed a solution. . He could figure this out, he knew he could…

>> "Listen, there's not much we can do now but continue on and end this. We'll need your help, so do your best to hold yourself together."[/color]

Jorge finally turned back around and watched he young woman carefully. She was scared, obviously, but Nate had apparently been able to calm her down. Her sobs were lessening, her teary eyes dried up, and the fine trickle of mucus from one of her nostrils had dried up. Visibly she was becoming just a tad more relaxed, though fear still singed her nerves.

Finally, she took a deep breath as she looked between both Nate and Jorge, probably deciding that she could finally trust the two of them.

>> "Do you know the way? Or if we're close to the 'Boss Room' or whatever it is?" [/color]

She sighed and took a second to compose herself before nodded.

“It was supposed to be a short game. Because, you know, it was Dark Grey’s lunch break,” she confessed. Apparently they had not meant for this game to last as long as it was. “Daryll, he said that the Carrion Crawlers, those things we just killed, were supposed to be the sub-boss. Down there,” she said as she pointed to a opening that was ahead of them. “In there, there is supposed to be something, another test. More monsters too.”

Jorge arched his brow and glanced between the room and the barbarian. “What kind of ‘test’?”

Bombardia sighed. “There is something in there. An item, that we have to find that will teleport us to the final boss, Dark Grey. But…I don’t know what it is. All I know…is that he hinted it would be hard to find.”

The detective nodded as he took a couple of steps away and stopped, gazing out at the dark opening at the other side of the room. It was imposing, the mystery and the unknown that awaited him over there. He had no idea what was in that room, but he did know that they had absolutely no choice at all. That was their destination.

“Okay,” Jorge said. “Then…I guess we better get this started…”

>> “There is something in there. An item, that we have to find that will teleport us to the final boss, Dark Grey. But…I don’t know what it is. All I know…is that he hinted it would be hard to find.”

How was it a couple of punk kids could put together such a tedious, annoying quest to interrupt Nate's day? He just came to the Station with the desire to paint! Apparently, in New York, that was too much to ask for.

At the very least, Nate could take solace in knowing that the quest was designed to be shorted because of the gamemaster's lunch break. (It was weird to see lines of real life and fantasy overlap.) "Okay, then we'll find... whatever we have to find." It was hard to be optimistic with such a vague goal.

Nate looked around the current room they were in, but it seemed highly unlikely the treasure would be there. Besides the goopy remains of the caterpillars. there was nothing in the room but stone walls and a candelabra hanging from the ceiling. Tossing a rope over the candelabra, he lifted himself off the ground with a make-shift pulley just high enough to touch the metal of the object. Nothing happened, unsurprisingly.

"Well, I really didn't expect the item to be in the same room as the minibosses," he said dropping and landing almost silently on the ground. Being a rogue was pretty cool.

Nate approached the room's exit doorway and peeked his head into the next room, not wanting to carelessly step in and get smashed or eaten.

His eyes widened at what he found in the next room. The thief's heart in him almost flatlined out of joy. "U-um, Jorge. Get over here and tell me I'm not hallucinating."

There really was nothing good coming out of this conversation. Bombarbia was nice enough to actually explain everything she knew about the situation, but unfortunately there was a lot that she didn’t know either. For example, they were after an item, something that would take them to the master behind all this madness, which would end the game, but she had no idea what it was they were looking for. Of course that would be the stipulation; games were rarely so easy.

He shook his head as he began to look around the room. So far this room had absolutely nothing out of the ordinary that he could see; then again, they had no idea what the item they were looking for so it really could have been anything. Logically, it wouldn’t be in this room though.

Nate launched himself up for a second, touching a chandelier with no effect. Nate was quickly understand that this room held no more secrets as well. The rogue moved away to check the doorway of the other room. Jorge followed a step or two behind him, trying to keep Bombardia at his back and out of harm’s way. When he noticed Nate stiffen up, though, Jorge instantly became more alert.

>> "U-um, Jorge. Get over here and tell me I'm not hallucinating."[/color]

The detective/knight looked confused as he crept closer, holding his sword tightly in his hand as he edged closer and closer to the room. His mind ran as many scenarios as he could, trying to prepare for anything and everything that Nate could possibly see in there. But, as he reached the edge of the doorway and looked in…he paused.

“Oh…my god…” he breathed.

It was a treasure room.

Everywhere, in every dark corner, was the glitter of gold, jewels, and other precious items. There were heaps of treasure, piles of gems, mountains of beauties that stretched from one end of the room to the room. Every last square inch of it was so jam packed that it looked like they had stumbled into Fort Knox. Through all of it, though, Jorge could only shake his head; they were looking for ONE item, in all of this.

Perfect.

Bombardia slunk up behind them and peeked into the room herself.

“Oh wow!” She squealed as she immediately stepped into the room. Her club slung onto her shoulder, her eyes glittered along with the gold as she scratched the inside of her palms. “We’re rich!”

“Bombardia! Come back!” Jorge hissed. When she didn’t respond, he rolled his eyes as he began to step into the room with all the caution of a police officer. Blade in hand, he eyed the corners, especially the gold statues that stood at every corner of the room. He really was not above suspecting everything today.

It.

Was.

Amazing.

Seriously, Nate's body felt warm and fuzzy looking out at the hills of golden goods. After spending so much time in the pursuit of material wealth, it was hard not to have a strong reaction.

Nate stepped into the room alongside Jorge, still in a pleasant daze. "I used to think this is what heaven would look like... well, not exactly like this, but still." In his imagination, paradise always had a few more scantily clad redheads. He was a guy, so sue him.

Bombardia seemed even more excited than Nate, which forced him to be the begrudging voice of reason. "As much as I would love to agree, I'm willing to bet all this goes back to not existing when the game is over." The comment was followed by a remorseful sigh. "Regrettably."

Nate looked over to the other mature person in the room, who was currently eyeing gold statues warily. It did not take a genius to figure out what Jorge was thinking. "I really don't want to find out what happens with those things if we guess wrong."

Nate thought back to his youth and his favorite Disney movie. "Touch ONLY the lamp." Nothing good came of greed in situations like this, right? "We should pick carefully-- CAREFULLY." He repeated himself loudly in hopes that the barbarian goldmonger did not do something stupid.

>> "I used to think this is what heaven would look like... well, not exactly like this, but still."[/color]

Despite his suspicion, Jorge had to agree. He remembered when he was a child, whenever his grandmother would talk about Heaven, there was always an emphasis on the streets being laden with gold. Well, standing in this room, looking over the entire space, he had to admit that this was probably the most gold he had ever, or would ever, see in his life. There was just so much of it that it seemed like it was impossible.

Then again, he was dealing with a troupe of kids who had managed to twist reality around them to form this little monster game just for kicks. Impossible was clearly not in the books anymore.

>> “As much as I would love to agree, I'm willing to bet all this goes back to not existing when the game is over."[/color]

He blinked as he looked down to Bombardia. She was practically salivating over the amount of gold that was heaped all around them. It looked almost as if it took ever last bit of her resolve to just dive into the shiny currency and attempt to swim herself out of it. Nate had nearly the same look but he was exhibiting more self-control. Jorge had a feeling that they needed to get out of here, now.

But something moved out of the corner of his eyes. Snapping his attention back, it settled once more on one of the golden statues was that standing defiantly in the corner of the room. It loomed, tall and imposing, carrying what he could only assume was a large battle-ax of sorts. Staring into the depths of its visor, Jorge could only see blackness. Yet still...he felt as if every one of their moves was being scrutinized.

>> "I really don't want to find out what happens with those things if we guess wrong…We should pick carefully-- CAREFULLY." [/color]

It was as if Nate were reading his mind. Jorge nodded in agreement. He really didn’t want to have to face down those things but he had a feeling that if they chose right, they would be okay. So far he felt that he could trust Nate to do the right thing. Bombaria on the other hand…

She was falling onto her knees, reaching out to one of the largest emeralds that Jorge had ever seen in his life. Its sparkle was captivating and instantly he felt it luring him, edging him on to reach out and just take it. But, he shook the feelings away as instead he grabbed Bombardia’s wrist.

“HEY!” she screamed and started to flail.

“No! Bombardia! Stop! Can’t you see? This is the test! I don’t know what, but…I…I just feel like something bad will happen if we touch anything except for the item we need to touch. I think…the rest of this is cursed. It is trying to entice us to pick up but….something bad will happen. I know it.” The detective sighed as he locked eyes with the woman. It took a second but she blinked and finally nodded her head that she understood. Carefully, he let her go. When he saw that she was snapping out of it, he glanced to Nate. “You alrigh--?”

“TOUCH ONLY THAT WHICH THE WEARIEST OF SOLES WOULD VALUE MOST!”

Jorge blinked as he stood up and held his blade ready. The booming voice had seeming come out of everywhere and yet nowhere. Anxiously he eyed the corners and saw only those statues again. He could have sworn that their helmets were pointed the other way. Did they…turn to fact them? He took a single, deep breath and glanced to Nate and Bombardia. Yup…they heard the same thing…

>> “No! Bombardia! Stop! Can’t you see? This is the test! I don’t know what, but…I…I just feel like something bad will happen if we touch anything except for the item we need to touch. I think…the rest of this is cursed. It is trying to entice us to pick up but….something bad will happen. I know it.”

Nate was happy that Jorge was taking the job of reeling the irresponsible young woman in. It was bad enough to end up in a situation where they could die, but if it came up because some punk was a reckless idiot. This was clearly a test of restraint and intelligence, even if he had no idea how to apply his intelligence yet.

>> “You alrigh--?”

>> “TOUCH ONLY THAT WHICH THE WEARIEST OF SOLES WOULD VALUE MOST!”

That sounded like a riddle if Nate had ever heard one. Now it was time to apply some thought. There was no way the gold coins were going to help a weary soul, and neither would the crowns and jewels.

There was one treasure that caught Nate's eye. It was a large, ornate silver cross resting on a pile of gold coins. It certainly fit the idea of comforting the soul. Nate walked closer to the object, feeling dark, ominous gazes on him as he moved. He pointed to the object. "This fits the soul thing."

He looked at the cross, trying to pick up on anything that could differentiate it in one way or another. He could not find anything out of the ordinary, and there was a part of him that wanted to take the chance, but something felt wrong.

Nate pulled his hand away and looked back to Jorge. "But this would just be way too easy, huh?" There was a trick to this, he knew it...

Jorge grumbled. He really was not in the mood for riddles right now but seeing as they were at the mercy of this game, they needed to play along. He began to wrack his brain, trying to listen to the words of the riddle that had just been uttered. If there was one obvious thing was that riddles were rarely simple and not something to take a face value. “Value”? “Weariest of souls”? They were surrounded by valuables but Bombardia said that the item they were after would be hard to find. No…there had to be something more to the riddle…

>> "This fits the soul thing."[/color]

Jorge turned and looked at the very ornate, silver cross that was sitting in plain sight. It definitely fit the bill in some aspect but it looked far too out in the open. Silver surrounded by gold? It stuck out like a sore thumb! Then again, it was an item of value to the soul too. Still…he shook his head.

>> "But this would just be way too easy, huh?" [/color]

“Yeah,” he said as he eyed the item. It looked like something that some kind of religious fanatic would keep in their house. The concept made him shudder a bit.

Bombardia was drooling, though, as she eyed the cross. Whatever pull she felt from the gold was nothing compared to that item. She took a few silent steps past Nate and Jorge, pretending like she was looking past a mound of gold and crept closer to the cross. Her fingers seemed to be full of itches as she scratched her tips with her own nails, wanting so badly to just pounce upon the item. But, she was still too close for Nate.

Finally, she seemed to turn and point behind Nate and Jorge.

“Well, what about that?” she asked as she pointed to a very shiny gold mirror that hung on the wall.

Jorge turned to glance at it. Instantly he shook his head.

“No, I don’t think tha—“ his eyes grew wide as he turned back around to face Bombardia. “F***! NO! BOMBARDIA!!”

But it was too late. The greasy faced, wide-eyed barbarian was already throwing herself through the air and snatched the silver cross from the pile. The sounds of falling coins echoed in the air as she scrambled into the gold, growling and holding the cross to herself as she glared at both Jorge and Nate.

“Stay back! I will use Savage Shout! Don’t make me do it!!”

“YOU HAVE CHOSEN…POORLY…”

A voiced echoed out from the walls. Jorge turned to source and found that indeed one of the statues had turned to face Bombardia. From the blackness of its helmet, Jorge gasped as he saw it fill with a fiery, golden light. His voice was lost as he tried to run towards her, but the mountains of gold were everywhere and his armor was too bulky to allow him to move freely.

Bombardia, on the other hand, was grinning and cackling as she hugged the cross close to her chest. She was so lost to the gold fever that she didn’t notice the stream of molten hot, melted gold spewing forth from the statues helmet. As soon as the gold hit, she froze. Her face contorted into the most horrendous look of pain imaginable but not sound came out. That was the most terrifying thing. There was absolutely no sound as molten gold flowed across her body, eating away at everything it touched.

Jorge could only shield his eyes as he kept looking. It would be a sight that he could never describe again. To see flesh melting away down to the bone, only to have bone coated in gold. It took seconds for her to dissolve away, and all that was left was a statue of a gold skeleton, trapped forever in a statue of shock and terror.

Jorge stared, wide-eyed, unable to believe what had just happened.

“TOUCH ONLY THAT WHICH THE WEARIEST OF SOLES WOULD VALUE MOST!”

Nate wished he could say he was shocked by Bombardia's defiance, but the girl had proven herself a liability to the quest from the moment they met her. He tried to stop her from reaching for the relic, but the quickness of her greed was a step ahead, and she clutched the cross like it was her lifeline.

He was also not surprised to watch the golden guardian step out of the corner and scold Bombardia with a dark, angry voice. What he was surprised by was what the Knight did next.

The sight of molten gold eating away at the girl would haunt him for weeks, or maybe months. He had seen people die before sadly, but it paled in comparison to watching the most painful and slow deterioration of a person, leaving behind an eerie golden reminder of the fault of avarice.

Nate pulled out his daggers, expecting a fight, but the statue simply repeated the riddle and returned to dormancy. The thief stood, lowering his guard, still shaken by the loss of a party member whose golden remains were clutching the cross, even in death.

Clearly, the cross was a trap placed to trick them into thinking about the riddle in the wrong manner. Taking an inventory of the room, Nate was scrutinizing every piece of treasure in the room, but not one piece made sense as the answer.

"None of these jewels make sense, and any religious treasure was obviously a trick answer." Maybe they were thinking about it wrong. "It's a riddle. Maybe we're missing some wordplay."

Nate pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill (which felt quite fanciful to be honest,) and etched the riddle onto the parchment. TOUCH ONLY THAT WHICH THE WEARIEST OF SOULS WOULD VALUE MOST!

Nate looked over every word written in his hands. There was no word to substitute for touch or that or weariest, and there was no valid use for "witch" instead of "which," but on paper... soul could have been... sole?

It made enough sense! It sounded like a riddley answer!

But if he was wrong, he was going to be melted by gold. It would be an ironic death, but certainly not one he was interested in.

Nate looked around the room, and indeed, at the foot of one of the many shimmering piles of goods, there was one old leather boot. Nate gulped, summoning what courage he had. "So... I think I've got it. But it doesn't make sense for both of us to try at once. If I'm wrong-- and believe me, I hope I'm not-- you have one more chance. If I'm right, follow me or something. I think." He was doing his best to act like he knew the rules.

Nate stepped to the boot, taking a deep breath. Uneasily, he nodded to Jorge. "Well. See you on the other side." Whichever "other side" he might end up on.

Nate took a knee and placed a hand on the weathered boot.

Jorge was still disturbed. Being a detective, he had seen a lot of things in his line of work but this situation here really had to take the cake. People had died under his watch, it happened all the time, but this was one situation that he simply couldn’t wrap his mind around. The young girl, though a bit of a pest, seemed like a woman possessed when she snatched away the silver cross. Then…he could have sworn that he saw some clarity in her eyes when the molten gold hit her.

He would never be able to forget that expression on her face, the sight of the gold stripping away everything that made her human, all of it was forever etched in his memory.

Staring now at the grizzly, golden statue, Jorge clenched his jaw as he turned away and began to look over the rest of the room. They needed to finish this game. Not because he was going to be sick, or because he was scared, or anything of that nature. They needed to finish this game so that he could find whoever the punk kid was that started this mess and ram his fist through his teeth.

He was done.

Thankfully, Nate seemed to take on a more logical approach.

>> "None of these jewels make sense, and any religious treasure was obviously a trick answer…It's a riddle. Maybe we're missing some wordplay."[/color]

There was a reason that Jorge hated riddles. For a man that was so well read, he really didn’t have time for riddles because they always bent their own rules. They twisted their words around so that you had to think with every aspect of your mind. What made it worse was that their lives now depended on it.

But, as Jorge struggled for an answer, searching through the items but making sure not to touch any of it, he listened to Nate’s quill scratching against parchment. Before long, Nate seemed to think he had an idea. As to a solution.

>> "So... I think I've got it. But it doesn't make sense for both of us to try at once. If I'm wrong-- and believe me, I hope I'm not-- you have one more chance. If I'm right, follow me or something. I think."[/color]

Jorge looked confused as Nate turned and seemed to be looming over an item that was at the foot of one of those mounds of gold. It was a cheap item, something that was obviously not of same value as anything else in the room. Because of that, it could have been easily overlooked and passed over by treasure seekers. Maybe that was what made it the perfect candidate for an answer.

>> "Well. See you on the other side." [/color]

Jorge ground his teeth but nodded his head. He wished and prayed that Nate was right about this. Sword raised, he was ready to unleash a torrent of water in case he was wrong. He eyed the statues, he glanced back to Nate, and, with a blink and a POP![/b] Nate had vanished.

YOU HAVE CHOSEN…WISELY

Lower his head, Jorge sighed with relief. He really hoped that it worked and that Nate had not ended up in another trap. But the confirmation from the statues seemed to mean that the man had been successful. Jorge only hoped that wherever the boot led, it was the end of this nightmare.

Boldly stepping forward, he sheathed his sword, leaned down, and gave on last glance to the remains that was once Bombardia. A prayer fell from his lips as he closed his eyes and touched the boot.

POP!![/b]

And he was gone…

POP!![/b]

The sound was not only external, as Nate's head felt the pang of his ears popping as well. The process was disorienting, which made sense for a man who had never traveled through trans-dimensional space. The process would have been admirable if it did not feel like the equivalent of a kick to the consciousness.

The warping feeling in his body was over in less than ten seconds, and he felt his feet land on some kind of surface. His eyes were still trying return into focus after their vacation from reality, and he staggered forward, barely maintaining his footing through the dizziness.

His eyes were finally adjusting, but he wondered whether they were tricking him or not. The environment around him... was something he would imagine in space. Blacks and purples and swirls and clouds and stars and spirals. It was like existing in a void, except he was clearly breathing.

Looking down at his feet, things were making less sense with each new piece of information. He was clearly standing, and the bottoms of his feet felt a surface, but there was nothing underneath him except more void. He was not sure if the ground was invisible, or if it only existed because he was standing there. The whole concept was enough to hurt his foggy mind.

"You DARE cross into my realm?!"

"****." Nate did not see him right away, but the voice was pretty clearly not a good sign of things to come.

>> "****."[/color]

That was never a good sign when you first appear at a scene. After the sickening teleportation, Jorge heard that word clear as a bell next to him. He glanced and found Nate standing there, looking ahead of him with a tension on his face that could have killed a normal man. Jorge was going to ask if he was okay, but as he made to look into the man’s eyes, he was shaken from his thoughts by his environment.

A void. It was all around him. The swirl of distant stars and galaxies mingled in with the encroaching darkness that had settled in all around it. It almost looked like some scenario straight out of the Hubble telescope. And yet, they were not free falling or floating either. He felt something solid under his feet, strong enough to support both himself and Nate. It was strange. But also fitting.

Yup, they were in the den of Maze Master.

“Another intruder?! How DARE you!!”[/b]

Jorge rolled his eyes as he turned around to face the speaker…and immediately wanted to recoil. He remembered the kid who had bumped into him inside the train station. And this kid, well, he seemed he had woken up on the wrong side of the possessed bed.

Dark Grey sneered as he looked across to both Nate and Jorge, gracefully petting a pair of black hellhounds at his left and right. Dressed in long, flowing, purple robes, the boy looked like a gray skinned, sickly old man that the strongest of breezes could have knocked over. But it was obvious that looks were deceiving. The very air around this man crackled and flowed with energy that caused the very hair at the back of Jorge’s neck stand on end.

The detective gripped his sword tighter as he glared at the man.

“Daryll?” Jorge asked cautiously.

A flare of red appeared in the man’s eyes. His dogs snarled and he lifted one of his hands. A burst of red electricity shot from his fingertips and struck Jorge at full force! The holy knight had attempted to ground the lightning with his sword but it was obviously far more powerful than that. It slipped past the sword and ran currents of electricity throughout his armor, causing the detective to scream and fall down to his knee.

“I AM DARK GREY!! YOU WILL KNEEL BEFORE YOU MAZE MASTER!!”[/b]

Yeah...someone was a bit too much into the game...

What Nate assumed was a young man at some point was now a weathered old... something evil. His attire was some cross of an evil spellcaster and a demonic bishop. His skin was tainted and darkened, and if there was a rational mind on control of him at one point, it had taken the day off in favor of a power-hungry ruler of darkness.

Jorge called out to the... thing with his real human name, and it was obvious this was a mistake. Jorge was struck with a wicked red lightning bolt that knocked him off his balance. The game's difficulty level had definitely skipped some levels now.

“I AM DARK GREY!! YOU WILL KNEEL BEFORE YOU MAZE MASTER!!”[/b]

Either Daryll had some ego issues, or the alter-persona entity that was Dark Grey had taken over now. "Jorge, are you ok--unf!"

One of the hellhounds came charging at Nate, knocking him back to the ground(?) and gnawing on his forearm. Driven by the desire not to lose his arm, Nate kicked the beast, knocking it behind him. Ignoring the pain in his arm, Nate rolled back to his feet, facing the hellhound for the moment.

It took a brief moment for Nate to realize another discouraging condition. "Hey Jorge? My shadow powers aren't all to helpful in a place where I cast no shadow." Much to his dismay, for this fight he was nothing more than a rogue.

And the hellhound still had a trick or two of his own. Looking at his forearm guard, there were char marks and burn holes left behind instead of teeth-marks. A better examination of the beast and Nate could see the fangs glowing with a dim orange, like embers lining the mouth. "If we have an ace in the hole here, I'd love to know it." It was three-on-two and Nate was half as useful as he had been thus far, making it more like three-on-one and a half. This was all ignoring the reality that Dark Grey controlled the world they existed in.

Things did not look good, in his expert opinion.

>> "Jorge, are you ok--unf!"[/color]

Jorge heard absolutely nothing of Nate’s question or dilemma. All he understood was that there was a loud ringing in his ears and a pain that was crackling all over his body. He had a feeling that if he didn’t get himself out of this, he was going to find his skin to reach a fine, crispiness that he had a notion that Gemma was not going to be happy about. He growled as he tried to stand, but every attempt only led to him being stricken down onto his knee even harder.

But he couldn’t stay here. He did not make it this far just to die now at the hands of this obvious nerd that obviously needed some type of date rather than run away, pretending he was the lord of some mystical world!

Snarling, Jorge ground his teeth and forced himself into a standing position as pain wracked throughout his entire body. Dark Grey was attempting to pump more energy into his attack but Jorge was proving to be a bit more resistant as he slowly lifted his sword until finally he managed to slice into the current of lightning.

Dark Grey growled and cut off the power as he turned and faded away.

Jorge was stunned by the move but didn’t have time to contemplate it. The other hellhound snapped it’s eerily glowing fangs and charged for the detective.

>> "Hey Jorge? My shadow powers aren't all to helpful in a place where I cast no shadow."[/color]

Jorge barely spun and slashed out with his sword in time to strike the beast hard in the jaw. It gave off a sickening cry as blade rended through bone. In seconds the creature evaporated and Jorge turned his attention back to Nate.

“Then we’re going to have to make do!” Jorge responded.

>> "If we have an ace in the hole here, I'd love to know it."[/color]

“You and be bo—“ he cried out as suddenly a pair of claws appeared from the ether and slashed at him. Spinning around, he slashed out with the sword to strike at the Maze Master but the man that disappeared once again into the darkness. This was definitely not goo—

SLASH!![/b]

“ARGH!!” Jorge stumbled as Dark Grey appeared momentarily to claw at him from behind. The nails sliced through his armor as if it were nothing more than paper. The white hot pain of feeling those unholy instruments cutting into his skin shot throughout his body. Another turn and Dark Grey vanished again.

“MWA HAHAAHAHAHAH!!! THIS IS MY WORLD!! YOU HAVE NO POWER HERE!!”[/b]

Jorge breathed heavily as he turned from left to right, trying to keep his sword up and ready at the tiniest glance of Dark Grey. As he did, though, he felt the clang of something glass against his hip. He then remembered the vial that he had picked up from that huge dead caterpillar. Maybe it could be of help?

His hand dug into the pouch as he fished around and finally clasped his fingers around the vial. Pulling out the container with the red liquid, he whistled to Nate.

“Here! Maybe it’ll help!!” he cried as he threw the vial at him.

As soon as it left his hand, he felt that maniacal laughter echo inside his bones. He spun, swinging the sword with a high arch. He was greeted with a cry of pain from Dark Grey as in the clawing hand that would have dug into his flesh was sliced away from his arm. Dark Grey hissed and disappeared, nursing his wound.

Jorge took a breath…a second too long. Suddenly Grey appeared again behind him, brandishing a long, and deadly looking Viper with his remaining hand. Jorge barely had time to turn around to register the hiss before he felt it’s fangs sink into his throat. A gasp fell out of his mouth as he stumbled backward, feeling cold venom now coursing through his system…

The shouting behind Nate made it pretty clear that neither he nor Jorge was having a wealth of good fortune. He did hear the dying cry of a dog, which was definitely good news, but Jorge's cries of anguish and pain were more worrisome. Nate had to hurry up and finish his encounter to help his new friend.

>> “Here! Maybe it’ll help!!”

"Huh?" Nate turned his head a moment too late and a potion bottle crashed into his right shoulder, shattering on him. "Ow! He was going to yell at Jorge for joining the assault against Nate, but he was cut off by the potion taking action.

Nate would not know it, but he was just hit with a Potion of Darkness. From his shoulder, a dark shadow began to grow, like a light would as it brightened, increasing its radius. It was an artificial darkness, but this was a game that rewarded creativity and improvisation, so Nate tried focusing on the darkness.

Nothing happened. The shadowy form was not connected to him, which was a let down. It was more of a letdown with the hell hound now charging at him, foaming at the mouth with bubbling fire.

An idea flashed through his mind. It was a long-shot, but his dagger had proved to be a unique connection between himself and his shadow. Hoping it would not be picky about the origin of the shadow, Nate made a gutsy call and jammed a dagger into his leather armor (and, painfully, the meatiest portion of his back.)

Insanity would prove to pay dividends, as Nate innately felt himself connected to a new, voluminous shadow. The shadow formed many tendrils and flung themselves forward, grabbing the hellhound.

In hopes of turning the tide in their favor, Nate turned around and tossed the strangled hound at Dark Grey. The dead beast hit its former master, its body shattering into a pool of firey goo.

"AH, HOW DARE YOU?!"[/i]

Dark Grey stepped backward, vanishing into the shadows once more, most likely to regroup. Nate was ready to get optimistic until he caught sight of Jorge reeling.

The rogue sprinted to Jorge's side and caught him by the shoulder before the paladin could fall. "Jorge? Jorge, what happened?!" Watching life draining from Jorge's face shattered the hope that was swelling a moment earlier.

The majority of the action had been lost upon Jorge. After the snake bite, he was gasping, struggling to breathe as he felt down to his knees and held his throat, trying to figure someway of stopping the poison. He even considered shifting into his water elemental form but it seemed that whenever he tried, he was just met with opposition. His body would not respond. Whether it was the effect of the game, of the void, or his character class, Jorge didn’t know. What he did know was that he could feel the chill of poison coursing throughout his body.

Soon he slumped backward, leaning on his elbows as he tried to keep his vision from swirling into a mass of colors and vibrations. He saw the future, the past, heaven and hell, everything became known to him in a mass of fast moving hallucinations that he simply could not make heads or tails about. But try as he might to focus on Nate, on making sure his newfound friend was okay, all Jorge got in response was another shaky headache that shot throughout his entire body.

Growling and trying to keep from losing consciousness, he heard the cry from the second dog and smiled a bit, assuming that somehow Nate was able to dispatch it. He hoped that the potion he threw at him helped.

>> "Jorge? Jorge, what happened?!" [/color]

He felt someone nearby as his vision began to darken. He really couldn’t believe that this was how he was going to die. He could feel the holy powers that he had been imbued with leaving him so there was obviously no sense in wasting his energy trying that. Instead, Nate still had a Maze Master to kill and he was going to have to do it without Jorge’s help.

Poor guy.

Jorge blinked, trying to push away the darkness just enough to look at the concerned face of Nate’s. The man was tired, Jorge could see it in his eyes. But there was not calling it quits just yet. Oh no. There was still a job to do.

“Snake,” was all Jorge said, coughing and feeling the slick, sticky green foam that stuck the corners of his lips. A massive tremor shook through him and he knew he didn’t have time. With every bit of effort he could muster he looked squarely at Nate, seeing only his eyes in the darkness that encroached upon all sides. “Gemma and Chase Taylor,” he pleaded with Nate. “Get out…tell them…tell them I’ll...always l-love them…” he hissed as pain wracked throughout his body. Shakily he thrust the handle of the sword into Nate’s hands and glared at him fiercely. “Finish….Finish the game!”

A growl of pain shock throughout his body, arching his back to a painful degree before he finally collapsed back onto the invisible ground. Eyes dimmed considerable as all motions of breath escaped from his body. Jorge Cervantes, detective and Holy Knight, had died.

From behind the rogue, a darker being stepped out of the thin air. Dark Grey, tasting victory on his lips, grinned wide as he held up his hand and made a scythe of black obsidian crackle into his palm. Raising it high, eyes gleaming with murder, the Maze Master advanced behind the rogue, ready to claim his victory…