<strong>The Throneroom</strong><br/><br/><strong><em>The Black Baron somehow remained unseen.</em></strong>The powerful demonesses did not even conceive the possibility of his escape.<br/>Let alone that a puny mortal Blackguard would have slain members of the Elite Guard or its Captain for that matter... and in extensio her champion within the palace.<br/>Granted he had used cunning and stealth for the most part but he had to applaud his survival so far.<br/>Good for morale... especially at what his dark blue gaze saw in the throneroom.<br/>He rubbed the stubble on his chin. Oddly enough his beardhair had barely grown. This place was odd indeed...<br/>The women... if the word could be used to describe these sensual '<em>things</em>' seemed to be bickering. A downright challenge to the one that seemed in power.<br/>His gaze wandered to the throne and the female figure that clearly was in charge was simply amazing. She had a strange otherworldly beauty and seemed far less infernal. She spoke and moved with authority, she had grace and her beauty concealed eyes that indicated a disguised cunning and wisdom.<em><strong>A true Queen</strong></em>had she been mortal...<strong><em>a veritable goddess</em></strong>in this place no doubt. He used his strength of will to rip away his attention from this otherworldly beauty and decided to focus on what mattered. Escape from this place of filth, freaks and villainy. Afterall he had an Empire to maintain and a war to win. And he would do neither by lingering here. It still frustrated him to no end 'how' he had ended in this place. So close to supremacy and then to have the advantage of momentum snatched away from his ironclad fist...<br/><br/>The Warlord's ever analytical mind sweeped over the architecture. The baroqueness, the design, the eerie otherworldness mixed with odd familiarity.<br/>But above all he took note of more escape routes.<br/>He took in all present and analyzed them. Some seemed warriors, others of a subtler sort. He'd almost use the word 'courtier' but that was but a close approximation of their purpose.<br/>In the end his gaze was drawn to a singular form that contrasted the queen in many ways...<br/><br/>She moved with strength of will, purpose, confidence. She was tall and strong of build but not without maintaining an elegance and feminity still able to stroke his... . He smiled at the thought and correct it before its conclusion... 'senses'.<br/>Clad in black leathers with skulls on her shoulders and an imposing wingspan she seemed to dominante the others in the room through her mere presence, bar perhaps the Queen who was 'different' to all others.<br/>Yet this woman decided to remain asside. To watch, to observe and to maintain her pride.<br/>There was an odd familiarity about her. As if she was<strong> <em>a kindred spirit</em></strong>...<br/>Had she been a mortal woman, he would have coveted her instinctively. He knew this and it surprised him. For Thane was not one to believe in sentimental nonsense such as 'love at first sight' or 'destined love'. But there was 'something' about this one.<br/>Had he been a demoness, he might have been like her. She was a powerful dark predator and even the Black Wolf from the North lacked the fang and teeth to deal with such an entity.<br/>The fact he was starknaked and armed with some girly demon pigsticker didn't help either.<br/>This in itself implied he'd take note of her and avoid direct conflict with her where possible.<br/>The Khonish Empire didn't need a martyr after all but a Black Baron that was alive.<br/><br/>Deciding enough was enough, he slid away. But then he got the oddest impression. Whereas none of the people around guard, courtier or retainer saw him,<strong><em>the all-piercing gaze of the Queen</em></strong>seemed to fix him in a strange way. Despite watching them from overhead... and well hidden, she 'knew' he was there.<br/>Going deep into his very being with a hint of curiosity, amusement and... a sensation he had trouble placing... 'ambition'? 'purpose'?<br/>And then events forced her attention away...<br/>Yet no cry of alarm came. No guards were summoned. It unsettled him more than any of the devils, demons and gargoyles had.<br/><br/>As a momentary moment of chaos erupted, the Black Baron slid of into the corridors, dissapearing into the darkness. He had no time to lose.<br/><br/>----------------<br/><br/>The Royal Guardsmen fell, beheaded. Khone found something he could wear. A black loincloth and a few bits of armor and chainmail. He slid them on. Partially dressed and armored, he at least felt ready enough to pursue his quest of escape. He smiled as he picked up the head. Beautiful and orange of skin. The woman seemed to stare with disbelief. She had been faster and possibly far stronger. She was an ancient demon, he was a mortal Blackguard.<br/>She did not realize why he had won.<strong> "Talk about a pattern..."</strong>Thane muttered<strong> "...this is getting ridiculous"</strong>he stated with an aloof disposition.<br/>In his eyes it all just proved that he had a single advantage in facing these things... . He brought something new and unexpected to the place. And he would exploit it to the utmost of his abilities.<br/>And he smiled at it. It was good to know yet unless he remained undetected and played his hands right, it would be to no avail. For he could not kill every soldier in Hell... already each fight with each 'peon' had drained him, wounded him.<br/>Still he went on through sheer stubborness. And despite Bane's blessings and the dark alchemy and iron will that had given him his glorious destiny... it was like a candle's light before a storm.<br/>Should Hell wish it... they could slay him if not by sending in the heavy hitters like that intrigueing collection of freaky women in the throne room then a good swat of elite killers like this one would do it.<br/><br/>Preparing some odd rope, he slid outside. He had no food, he didn't know anything of the land nor where he was to go but as he saw it, he had little to gain from staying here.<br/>There was one thing though... the information the Captain had given him. It had given him some hints and he knew what to look for to escape. But not how to find it.<br/>He rappelled downwards, he had not done this in a long time. He remembered that during his youth as a young centurion in his father’s army, he had done it. Climbing the mountains of Khone in little more than reinforced leathers and a black fur cloak. He missed those days. He also missed Khone’s icy plains, it’s biting winds and chilly temperatures.<br/>Here all was warm and filled with the stink of excess, brimstone or the oddest exotic perfumes.<br/>Where  Khone was for men and women of ambition, virtue and dedication this place seemed as decadent as anarchy incarnate. Yet despite all this there seemed to be a hierarchy, rules and a twisted emulation of what man had done.<strong><em>Or perhaps all man and hell did was emulate the Gods?</em></strong><br/><br/>He decided to push aside his whimsical irrelevant contemplation for a moment.<br/>He skillfully moved downwards, holding the strangely textured rope. He could not make out what it was made of but it was sturdy yet flexible. He suddenly halted and let a patrol of guards pass down before sliding downwards further. His hands hurt.<br/><strong>“If only I had my arcane weapons…”</strong>he muttered. But armor and sword had been taken of him. He only had his sigil ring and a strange necklace around his neck. The ragtag attire he had scavenged left ample skin bare. And this pale skin displayed old scars, new bruises and recent wounds.<br/>Moving ever lower, he wetted his dry lips and finally after what seemed hours touched down on the blackened ground.<br/>The strange rocks were greyish black and of the oddest texture. Not cold but a pleasant warm temperature.<br/><br/>………………………………………….<br/><br/><strong>Beyond the 'palace'...</strong><br/><br/>Life was odd. Not long ago… at least he assumed it was not long ago because his sense of time in this place was entirely skewed… he had been home. Now he was in Hell. Even by his standards travelling to a place like this was unbelievable.<br/><br/>The fact the sky made no sense and seemed to change illogically at a whim which did not help him find his bearings. He travelled onwards and seemed to find nothing to help him orientate. All seemed identical or changed location. It was as if his attention shifted to the scars suddenly his perception was warped and the ‘stars’ if they were stars, had moved.<br/>If he used a stone formation or some odd ‘living trees’ as a point of orientation, they would change positions or shape when his attention moved away from them. It was as if the place itself refused to help him in any way.<br/><br/>……………………….<br/><br/>As thirst got him, he did find an odd liquid.<br/>He knelt near the puddle and frowned. It looked disgusting but he needed to drink, he needed to find something to live on or he would simply topple forward. His will remained strong but his body had not.<br/>As he scooped up some of the odd blackish liquid in his hands, he drank from it, expecting the worst. ‘Tasteless…’ he was pleased to note. He licked his red lips. He sipped more and to his surprise he felt some of his strength return. He felt stronger, invigorated and…<br/>A huge fang-filled tentacle burst from the water going straight for his fate. Instinctively he grabbed it and applied pressure. The muscles in his arm tensed and the coldhearted killer killed the screeching thing. Magnus Thane's features didn't even change. His dark blue eyes never flinched. If he was amazed at the coldness and instinctiveness of his reactions then it did not show.<br/>He was perhaps not the biggest predator afoot in this infernal place… perhaps not even the most cunning but he remained a predator at heart.<br/>He would not die easily.<br/>His honor and<em>virtus</em>demanded no less.<br/>He sipped more and then got up. He regretted the lack of a canister to fill up with water but he knew he should be glad that he received even this mild reprieve.<br/><strong>“Thanks to the Lord of Strife. God of War aid me and I will continue to bring the sword of battle and tyranny to all”</strong>the Blackguard promised solemly.<br/>As he continued to wander forth over the strange black rocks and gritty sands, he rubbed the black lupine tattoo of his arm. It itched a bit and he frowned as the journey seemed unending.<br/>At a given moment he sought safety in a living forest from flying Demonesses but none saw him.<br/><strong>"A patrol..."</strong>he deduced. Being able to fly gave them a great tactical advantage.<br/>For a moment Thane desired to have a Black Dragon once more to rely on. The Dragon Riders of Khone...<br/>He grinned viciously, the sight of them ripping these over-the-top wenches apart would be... delightful.<br/>But he had no army and he had no allies nor friends in this strange place. So he pushed on. He could dream of better times when he was dead... or more preferably 'free'.<br/><br/>And still he did not know how much time had passed. And if even any time truly passed. Disorientation continued and at times he felt as if he ran in circles... he probably did so quite a few times. Still he got the odd impression he made 'some' progress.<br/><br/>………………….<br/><br/><strong>The 'Edge'</strong><br/><br/>All went well and as he disposed of some living branches attempting to ‘strangle’ him for some nefarious purpose, causing ichor and goo to jolt on his body. He now reeked not only of Demon’s blood but also some strange vicious local flora that shrieked with each cut.<br/>And then he smiled pleased as he left the edge of this eerie freakish forest that had tried to kill him.<br/>He stepped forward into a clearing and in the distance he saw a huge white portal, high in the sky, near a mountain pass.<br/>His tiny smile faded from his frigid features as for the first time a whiff of desperation hit him.<br/>Around him there was nothing but air. The entire block of land, massive as it was floated. In the distance others floated also. Some gorged lava and strange black clouds hid what lay beneath him from sight.<br/>Whether this was a constant or not… he knew not. But currently he was stuck and he did not know how to continue.<br/>He saw his goal which was still an insane distance away but due to its purity of light quite visible.<br/>His goal was there but unachievable.<br/>He fell onto one knee, lowering his ichor-soaked sword. His other hand holding an axe previously stolen from another fallen Royal Guardswoman. When the two weapons hit the rocky surface the sound they made was dim and unnatural.<br/>He breathed heavily… he bit his lower lip and swallowed.<br/>He was a man of logic, cunning, manipulation and conquest. There was no logic here. Or if so he did not understand it. Cunning was for naught here. Manipulation not an issue. And conquest? Conquer what? Claim what? This was just a vile stinking cesspit filled with insane bitches and their pets.<br/>A savage roar escaped his lips. Emotion… true emotion raging upwards in a rare moment.<br/>Yet once more he rose up.<br/>He was the Black Baron. He could not… would not give up. Could not… would not.<br/>He was tired. So tired.<strong><em>Tired...</em></strong><br/><strong>"Impossible..."</strong>he groaned.<br/><br/>Behind him came venomous giggling, evil sneers.<br/>Succubi. Royal Guardswomen.<br/>“No mortal has slain a Royal Guard in an eternity” the decapitated Captain’s secondant said.<br/>“You are a threat. And we will have revenge ‘puny man’” she hissed. She had been loyal to her captain and this ‘thing’ had dared to slay her and a handful of her sisters.<br/>The death of a single demon was too much to contemplate but so many and the<em>crème de la crème</em>? The Queen’s elite? A tarnish on the Guard’s honor that would not stand!<br/><strong>“Is that so…” </strong>Thane said coolly as he rose up once more. Judging by the footsteps, the number of giggles, a handful if not more stood behind him.<br/>He would not win this. He wasn’t sure he could at full strength. But certainly not now.<br/>But then these arrogant bitches had mocked his race before. Assumed much and underestimated him.<strong>“I enjoyed killing your captain”</strong>he suddenly said.<strong>“But if you’re so mighty… so great… then cleanse your honor by facing me in single combat”</strong>he said with his low even voice.<strong>“Unless you’re afraid?”</strong>he turned around. He faked strength, hid weakness and bit away all pain. His hands tightened around the hilt of axe and blade.<br/>His face did not flinch in the least upon taking in his predicament.<br/>Before him stood 8 women and up in the air three more had crossbows aimed at him.<br/>The leader was pinkskinned with the signature tale and wings all the Succubi of the Royal Guard had. All had ornate yet revealing armor. The one before him though had more ornate armor and though not as over the top as her Captain, the Baron quickly deduced due to this she was an ‘officer’  herself.<br/>For a moment it seemed as if she’d take the bait. These female demonesses clearly had ample pride, anger issues and above all varying degrees of a ‘God complex’.<br/>Regretfully for Thane her moment of hesitation passed and she sneered “I fear no man. But by whatever trickery you killed my Captain… you will not get a second chance to do so… we’re going to cut you to pieces and feed every part of your vile body to a different vice demon” she said. She hissed and then smirked. “What do you have to say about that… ‘mortal’?”<br/><strong><em>Damn it. They do learn... eventually.</em></strong><br/>Thane allowed himself a tiny moment of glee as he knew his end was nigh and jested<strong>“Funny… quite a few of your ‘sort’ seemed very mortal to me…”</strong>he said.<br/><strong><em>I’m dead no matter what I do. All paths I take lead to my death….</em></strong><br/><em><strong>So what tactic will lead to me taking down the blabbermouth?</strong></em><br/>He smiled as in a splitsecond he saw the paths to take, the options, the ways to go at it.<br/>And then.. he acted.<strong>“Bane grant me strength!”</strong>but Bane did not come to him. Not this time. Yet he knew Khone’s Patron God would approve… in essence Bane had given him a final gift. Surety of choice. Clarity of purpose. And a warrior’s death.<em>Virtus</em>would be satisfied even though his people would never truly know what had transpired…<br/>The Black Baron was doomed but the secondant would join him in death.<br/><strong><em>May the demons choke on my flesh!</em></strong>he thought.<br/><br/>He threw the battleaxe. And the graceful seductive secondant parried but it left her momentarily open. He dashed forward and he knew this was an insane course if not for his objective. He would be pierced by a spear but he cared not. The spear entered his flesh. The arrow hit the spot where he’d been previously  and the Blackguard allowed the Secondant’s blade hit the bit of ragtag armor on his lower arm. Her hiss of frustration turned into a gargling sound of agony.<br/>His blade hit the mark.<br/>Now the follow-up blow would come to finish him off yet at the same time his side-ways cut would finish of the leading succubus. Already her blood touched his wrist. Warm and sticky.<br/>Only a moment had passed. A moment more and all would be over…<br/><br/>