Dreaded Plans

[Anonymous]

Venorik came out of the portal, stumbling over himself, only being able to accurately move because of Qee'lakstreea. Blood drips freely from all down his back, falling upon the ground in puddles. His blades now lacked the energy to take them through the planes, back to the abyss where they could heal and regain their strength. He silentlly cursed himself for jumping the gun, for so easily running into a battle without the needed information or plans.

    He continued in an awkward jog, more of a hop, towards the building that served as the dread army headquarters. His vision was getting blurry, objects around him were swirling. His movements were now tilting. Not now, he told himself. He had finally found the power he came for. He was now the commander of the dread army. Could he truly fall but a step away from the throne? Everything went black around him, yet he could still feel himself moving, only differently.....

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  Balkin exited the portal behind Venorik, standing, fiddling with his various organs as he watched the new commander use up the last bits of his life trying to get to his new seat of power. Power much deserved, he thinks to himself, for he was amazed at the prowess of this one. He knows now, after fighting beside him against unbelievable odds, that he had sadly underestimated Venorik. He knew now why they called this one the destroyer. He knew now how his family was so easily disposed of.

  He rubs an organ against his crushed leg, smashing the fleshy blob, it's juices spreading down his injured knee and the other parts of the appendage. He felt the immense pain as everything shifted back into place, he heard the cracking and reforming of bones. He grimaced in pain, even screamed out, but the spell of silence was still upon him and it could not be heard. He rubbed the same thing on his torso, on the deep cuts that ran across his stomach. It was not nearly as painful, for it was only skin and a small amount of muscle reforming,but it still sent waves of pain through him.

   He smiles as Venorik falls to the ground steps away from the door of the building. It was such a shame. He walks toward the dying drow, blood pooling about him. His hands trembled as they wrapped around his swords. It was finally over. They destroyer was finally at bay. He laughed as his blade cut through the air, aimed for the head of his most true enemy.

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 Qee'lakstreea felt it. He was in true dispair when he felt Venorik's soul leave the body they had basically shared for the better part of eight hundred years. The body was now empty, and though Venorik had allowed him to do it before, he had never truly controlled the body alone. It felt..different, but his senses were still active. Active enough to intercept the blade headed for his head. The look upon the attacking drow's face was nothing short of priceless as Qee'lakstreea's other hand swept across,connecting with a few instantly cracked ribs, knocking Balkin five feet away.

    " That was a mistake." came the gutteral, demonic voice of the Balor, Qee'lkstreea, spoken for the first time in over eight hundred years, since he had been soulbonded with Venorik inside the words, the casing of his very essence. He trudged forward after his new enemy,  smile curling upon his lips.

[Anonymous]

The portal closed behind the drow as Kerath jogged out into the dark mage village.  Although slightly injured, he showed no signs of fatigue or pain.  If it were not for the blood dripping from his forearms and the still forming bruise along the right side of his fourhead, it would look from his movements and demeanor as if he were merely slightly late for an appointment.  He stopped moving though as he saw Venorik, badly injured, fall to the ground, another drow walking toward his prone form.  Then the mysterious drow, a darkweaver by his clothing, raised his sword and swung at Venorik's head.  Kerath's  shock doubled when, from out of nowhere, Venorik blocked the dark weaver's blade and, with strength impossible for someone so grievously injured, punched him in the gut.  Kerath watched in surprize as the dark weaver flew back some five or six feet, and understood what happened when Venorik spoke...
Not the flowing, melodic voice of a drow elf, but the gutteral growl of a demon.

Kerath looked from one to the other, wondering what to do next.

[Anonymous]

" YOU MEANT TO KILL HIM LIKE THE OTHERS!"  Qee'lakstreea growls, stomping toward Balkin. Violent flames licked out from his eyes, his hands became clawed, and small horns now protruded from his forehead, the body trying to accomodate the new soul within it. He grabs the still laying Balkin by the shoulder, hoisting his form up in the air so their faces met. " but he is already dead." he gowls, sorrow in his voice. He twirls, throwing Balkin across the distance to fly into the wall of a building with a loud thud. Balkin slides to the ground and semi-conciously fumbles through his pocket, his hand finding the small orb he had stolen from a surface dweller. It felt so right in his posession. He didn't even notice the fist of a seemingly posessed Venorik coming towards him. Then it stopped in mid air,hitting a small wall of glowing color. Balkin held a bewildered expression upon his face, as Qee'lakstreea would have, if he could remember how to work facial expressions.

     A small line of energy also went at the form of Venorik...from the small orb. It took him back a step, but he easily shrugged it off. He was, after all, a tanar'ri, and  Balor at that. "I saved you back at the castle. I brought you here and spared your life!" Qee'lakstreea roars again, his hand going past the sheild and lifting the dark weaver once more." yet you try to kill him!" Qee'lakstreea was truly in anguish, for he knew how much this had all meant to Venorik. It was why he had left his home, along with Kerath. Over eight hundred years sharing a body creates very good friends. The only one the demon had ever truly known.

  Qee'lakstreea couldn't help but smile. He took the healing pouch from Balkin, eating it, moving it through the body to heal where it needed to. "he is dead." he says again, as sorrowful as the deep gutteral voice would allow.  Then the lips couldn't help but twist into a smirk. " you shall help me get him back..."

[Anonymous]

Kerath watched the spectacle with venorik's posessed body and the dark weaver, trying to come to terms with the death of the closest thing to a friend Kerath had ever known.  Venorik had helped bring him back to this world, had stood by him through all the dangers since, and had never tried to stab him in the back or blackmail him in any way. (That last thing being quite a rare occurence in drow society, even among supposed "friends").  Now he watched as Qee'Lakstreea took out his anger at Venorik's death at the other drow, putting up little defense besides a weak magical barrier and  line of energy... nothing that would stop the likes of a balor.

After the fight was over, though, and it looked as if Venorik would be back soon enough, Kerath just shrugged, relaxed his muscles, and took out his healing salve.  Qee'Lakstreea seemed to be taking care of everything easily enough.  He sat down against the wall of the dread army headquarters and started applying the salves to his wounds.

[Anonymous]

Balkin was disgusted by the idea. "never!" he spat out before he knew what he was doing. A flight across another expanse and another violent slam into a wall quickly eradicted any objections. He hated Venorik with every inch of his body, but he wasn't stupid. It wasn't worth his own life. Qee'lakstreea saw the nod as he came walking up to the fallen form of the dark weaver. "good." he growls. " you will follow my lead. If you do it quickly, you just might stay alive once Venorik is back." Qee'lakstreea knew that was  lie. Once Venorik knew this one had tried to kill him..all he could do was smirk.

   Qee'lakstreea started chanting in an abyssal language, his dark voice ringing through the air unlike any normal sound. It was a sound that would send shivers down the spines of other demons,  ritual that was not looked highly upon. The summoning of a soul out of the abyss. Many were fine with stealing souls from the hells, but the abyss liked to keep it's food. He doubted Venorik would go down too well. He actually knew that Venorik ws quite safe in the abyss, but he also knew that his companion would want his body back. Venorik couldn't shift planes without his help.

  Balkin followed the conjuring, adding his energy to the growing pot of magic starting to surround them. It gave him the worst feeling, like death itself was taunting him, promising him punishment just for hearing the words spoken by Venorik's form. The magic around him now was unlike anything he had previously felt. He just kept adding his energy to that of the demon, focusing everything he had on gathering it together.

  Qee'lakstreea knew exactly what he was doing. This was the same ceremony they had used to pull Kerath from the clutches of the abyss. His growling voice became distant yet loud, everywhere, yet unreal. It was something not meant to be, something this plane itself wished to cast out. He raised his clawed hands out, and suddenly the swords that were the casing of his essence were in his fists.He held them out, His voice only getting more otherworldly, vibrating the fabric of the material plane. Objects around started to shake. In reality, they werent moving, but in the fight of the plane against this change, the very way things close to the conjuring were seen was warped.

  Balkin felt it, felt everything around him go wrong, trying to rid itself of the act they were  committing. He kept adding power, nothing in comparison to the demon, but helping to focus and channel it more than anything. Things around him blurred, he started feeling weak as the ceremony started sapping more of his energy on it's own.

  It started to reach it's pinnacle, the area around them not only warping but being overtaken by shadows, laughing and taunting them as the planal barriers are cheated. A black portal opens in between the two swords, the abyssal conduits, a direct doorway to the abyss. Qee'lakstreea roars the most unworldy cry yet acheived in the spectacle, turning even his own skin, shoving the two blades into the portal. With a yank, he pulls them back out, jabbing the ends into his abdomen. His forms falls to the ground and the swords sink in, disappearing, leaving no scar or wound.

  Balkin was dumbfounded. The shadows crept away, gathering, and entering Venorik's eyes! All he could do was stand and watch, jaw open and eyes wide.

[Anonymous]

Venorik…….    The last time he had seen the Weapons master he was fleeing the tantrums of the matron, through one of his portals he was so fond of using.  Now Mith Kal’daka had returned, and now was time to find the remains of his army.  

  Mith Kal’daka paced the deck of the Olath Elemmiire,  the flagship of the drow navy,  and waited.  The amulet had indicated the dagger lay  ahead of them, if that were so  then so did Venorik and Qee'lakstreea.   The ship slid through the night sky, as its magics carried onwards silently.   Beneath him the ground passed quickly as they approached the village ahead of them.   “sei'lor l' olist wlalths lu' plynn udossa ulu l' draix d'lil village lu' mir gaer.â€?  He ordered, as he stepped of the command deck and walked below.  In his quarters he donned on his Armor and weapons.  The twin Scimitars of Darksness,  a pair of scimitars rested on his back, at his left hip was belted the Mithrill claymore.  Numerouse daggers and throwing knives adorned his body, as well as magical and Psionic devices, the most notable the Psionic were the Psionic enhancers that sat on his left hand in the form of knuckle armor.  He threw his cloak over his shoulders, it settled concealing all of his weapons and pouches.  He felt the Oloth Elemmiire shift to port as she settled over what could be called the town square.  If Venorik was here he would find him.


  A door opened in the sky, not a portal as one would expect but a metal door opening into a black room with no light.  A Dark shape  flitted out of the door and to the ground dark magics carried him to the ground.  Red eyes could be seen glowing from beneath his hood as the six foot figure straitened from his landing..  His armored left hand gripped a seven foot tall battle staff,  his boots silent as the  walked forward,  he could feel tension in the Air……  war was afoot, it had been several centuries since he had participated in a real war……  

The door closed and the barely perceptible  distortion moved off as the spell healed itself.  They would wait till there master called.



(sorry if the setting is bunged up in any way.)

[Anonymous]

Jay stepped cautiously into the Dread Army's headquarters, darting glances around in curiosity. He avoided the fighting creatures, not wanting to agitate them into turning on him, and walked quickly by them, staying close to the wall. Seeing a drow sitting against the wall, appearing to be spreading something on his wounded arms, Jay stopped a few yards away. This looked like his best chance of getting anyone's attention without being seriously wounded.

"Knock knock," he said, tapping softly with a fist on the wall. He grinned and stepped closer. "I heard the Dreads were recruiting?"

[Anonymous]

Kerath had finished healing his wounds and was throwing the now empty bottle to shatter some ten feet away as a human walked over to him, knocked on the wall, and asked if the dread army was recruiting.  Kerath had noticed the man before of course, but now realized his intentions of joining the army.  He glanced quickly at the balor, now beginning the ritual of bringing Venorik back through the planes.  Such rituals could take time to complete so he took it upon himself to deal with the hopeful member.  Kerath then looked back to the man, sizing up his strength and trying to discover some hint to his fighting skills through his stance.  "Yes we are recruiting,"  he said qietly as he turned to speak with the human, not wanting to somehow disrupt Qee'Lakstreea's ceremony.  "The new commander is..." he looked again to the creature, not quite drow, not quite demon, speaking in the gutteral language of the abyss, "currently indesposed.  But you can speak with me about anything.  "Tell me, what contribution will you bring?  I tell you now, if you do not meet standards of considerable skills, you will not do well to stay.  I will not have a liability to look after during battle."

[Anonymous]

Jay glanced at the preoccupied commander, then cocked his head as he looked back to Kerath. "I assure you, I will never prove a liability in battle," he said confidently, resting one arm comfortably across his sword hilt. He looked around the large room slowly and continued, "I'm Jay. Bounty hunter extraordinaire." He flashed another smile at Kerath, but turned his head again to look at the strange, half-demon drow.

"What's happening with the commander?" he asked, jerking his thumb in that direction.

[Anonymous]

The cloaked elf  Looked over the towns people for a few moments before finding what he needed, the drow grabbed a sleeping drunk by throat, his eyes snapped open to find themselves staring into a set of glowing eyes,  And Mith opened the humans mind like a jar.  HE gathered there had been a recent battle, one that had not gone well, and that indeed Venorik had been there.  He searched the mans head further, looking for any thing that might help him…. A yes dread army.  That would be the sort of place Venorik would hide from HER.  Not hiding at all but out of sight.  He threw the man to the ground, the humans mind shattered beyond repair. He looked around again with a new understanding of his surroundings.  Dread army he muttered to himself as he went towards the building the little drunks mind had known as their headquarters………….

He opened the door and stepped inside glancing around, looking over the facilities,  they looked as if they need some upgrades,… but after Living on the Olath Elemmiire for the last three most surface buildings looked shoddy.  He paused a moment before speaking, “I look for who ever is in charge here, Or Venorik Vharzyym. Both are preferable but Iether will do.â€?  He said as he pulled his hood back revealing his silver hair, obsidian skin and eyes that seemed to be glowing with swirls of color.  His staff to seemed to glow, just enough to outline itself if it were dark but it was enough to see……..

[Anonymous]

He felt his soul breaking free, being ripped through the planes, shredding through at a pace that seemed very unnatural. It felt as though his very soul was being torn, carried in piece by piece to the body that was and now is again his own. It hits him like a brick in the face, being thrown back into his mortal body, pain rattling through his very soul. It was so great.

  He opened his eyes once more, and though here it was less than ten minutes, it felt as though they had not been his own in ages. All he could do was smile. He instantly wondered how Qee'lakstreea got the energy to pull him back, for he knew personally the drain that such a forbidden spell put on a being. He felt the features of his body change back to his own, the horns and claws retreating.  Then he saw the drow, the one that he had gotten out of the castle, the one that had followed him and appreared out of nowhere."well met." he says to Balkin, clasping the dark weaver on the shoulder. "it seems you have helped me once again."

  Qee'lakstreea telepathically screamed in rage, now re-confined to the blades. Venorik was thanking this drow, the one that but minutes ago attempted to finish him during his last moments of life. He tried to warn Venorik, tried to tell him before his actions sent him once again back to the abyss, but it was too late. All he could do was open a portal, using up reserves of energy that was best left unused, and leaving none left.

 Balkin smirked as Venorik greeted him with such happiness, well, a lot for a drow. One of his blades were in his left hand. He muttered an incantation as Venorik drew near, one for Lolth enhanced skill with a blade. As Venorik's hand touched his shoulder, Balkin's came out, plunging the blade deep within the commander of the dread army. Or so he thought. Once again a look of dread was upon his face as Venorik's boot planted into his face, almost dislocating his jaw.

  Qee'lakstreea's portal absorbed the sword, and Venorik was quick to react. He spun, his boot making a firm connection on the dark weaver's face. The blades of Qee'lakstreea were in his hands by the time the spin ended, and he quickly used the momentum, turning the blades in a diagnal slash, only to be stopped by some sort of magical barrier. A small light was glowing where the swords were stopped, but it didn't suprise the commander too much. He knew much about wizards, and knew as much about most drow wizards as they did about themselves.

  Once again Balkin was saved by the barrier, and he started to realize what it was.He holds his blades firmly in his hands, hoping that he could at least defend against this great fighter that he had so greatly underestimated, and that, he figured,  would most likely be  his demise.

[Anonymous]

Venorik jabbed in with his right hand, purposely coming short to cause the reaction he knew would occur, that Balkin would jump to the side. It never failed, and when the dark weaver moved to dodge the attack, he was met by Venorik's left hand sword, aiming in at his shoulder. He barely got his sword up in time to block in. Venorik used the momentum of the thrust to keep it into another spin, the first sword flashing towards the back of Balking neck as he blocked the first. Again he was met by the barrier.

  Qee'lakstreea flashed at unreal speeds, Balkin's salvation being the magical barriers that kept popping up to stop the deadly blades. He chanted another spell under the protective sheild, and gripped his blades tighter. This time Balkin led the attack, rushing towards Venorik, both swords being swung at the opposing drow's abodomen. He couldn't get close, not with any amount of anhancement spells. That was one of the upsides up training  nonstop for over eight hundred and fifty years, with many uncounted from the long stays Venorik frequented in the abyss.

  Venorik blocked the futile attacks with ease,  Qee'lakstreea's immediate helping and a sense almost bordering foresight in battle, it was nothin but childs play to bat away the hooked blades being hurled at him in the hands of a dark weaver. He was getting tired of the game, and the balor headed hilts of the blades of Qee'lakstreea felt warmer in his grasp.

  He came on swiftly, working and building on the momentum he gained with each perfectly balanced swing of a blade, his body twisting and arcing in harmony with his attacks. Balkin had been blinded by rage for all these years, and now he couldn't comprehend what he was thinking before, believing he could slay the destroyer. His entire house could not stand before this one, how could he stand against him alone? would he perish, as every single one of them had?

  He fought for his life against the blades of Venorik, already knowing, but not wanting to truly accept, the outcome. The barrier came again, but Venorik was ready, exerting energy and driving the abyssal blade right tnrough, finding Balkin's side with it's wicked edge. Balkin jumped back in pain, grimacing. The dark weaver throws his blades to the side, quickly gulping down one of his various enchanted animal organs. Spider web grows from his his palm, solidifying into a whip, but no grip forming, the web staying connected into his palm. He smirked. It had been a long time since he had used this spell, one that had never failed.

  Venorik smiled wider than Balkin did. This one truly must not understand who he is fighting, he thinks to himself. He would not be the first dark weaver to fall to the blades of Qee'lakstreea. He puts his blades into an X, bowing. " lets dance." he hisses in the drow tongue, eyes glowing with the fire that burned within his sockets.

[Anonymous]

Kerath looked back to the scene happening with the former weapons master.  "Venorik is having a bad day," he remarked casually, knowing that nothing too serious was happening to him.  "And his demon friend is just helping him with a little problem.  Death is an insanely annoying affair, even with someone to bail you out immediatly.  You see, anyone can cheat death, but looking it right in the eye, then spitting in it, and getting and staying away from the vengeance of the abyss.... that is a little tricky."  Kerath looked back at the bounty hunter.  "Do not worry.  He will be back soon, I assure you."  

Just then a cloaked figure entered the headquarters.  He was just over average hight for a human and carried a long battle staff.  Kerath could not see any other weapons, but they were no doubt hidden by the cloak.  This stranger said he was looking for the leader, or Venorik.  This seemed odd to Kerath.  Not many knew Venorik by his name.  The hairs on the back of his neck tingled .  Then the figure pulled off his hood,  showing the unmistakenable white hair and ebon skin of a drow.  Kerath walked to stand several feet directly in front of the drow.  "First tell me who you are and why you believe there is even any organazation needing a leader within my humble abode."  He paused slightly and silently readied his muscles.

[Anonymous]

Balkin was the first to strike, swinging one strand of web sideways at Venorik, nd whipping the other one straight out towards his opponent. The felt weightless to him, following his movements as perfectly as did his blades. He was smart though, and smart enough to know that this was just a futile attempt at delaying his death. He didn't know how true it was though, that Venorik was truly toying with him for ammusement.

  Venorik easily knocked the whips away with a smile on his face. He torn cloak still flowed behind him with as much grace as his body moved with as he jumped and dodged, steadily coming closer to his enemy. It was funny, and he was enjoying this little game, but Qee'lakstreea informed him that it was urgent to end this quickly. Through all their years together he had learned never to doubt his blades.

  He speedily leapt forward, right on top of Balkin, connecting the hilt of the blade to the back of the dark weavers head. It was all so easy. "next time stick with magic." he says as the drow's form falls to the ground next to him. He doubted that one would awake any time soon. Qee'lkstreea bade him it was necessary for him to get back to the headquarters. Picking Balkin up and placing the limp unconcious form on his shoulders, he starts the short journey back to the buildin. As he approached, he spots the pool of blood where he had fallen. All he could do was smile.

(ooc) sorry tis kinda short lol

[Anonymous]

"WE GOT IT!!!!!!!!" The foursome of Rexus, Jonesy, Alfred, and Aisengod yelled as they came sprinting back into the DMV. "I can't believe we actually got it.." Jonesy panted while catching his breath. "Now we can give the bloody thing to our commander and hopefully figure out what to do with this thing."

Walking in to where their commander was, the foursome noticed that he was busy in a fight....they turned around quickly and walked away...going to a nearby house, they sat down in the yard and opened the book.

FLASH, BANG, BOOM, DOOM, AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

The four fell back as the book's pages began glowing, emitting a powerful energy aura...

"Holy Sh!t...." Aisengod finally let out after sitting up to see the book....

(eh, crap of a post)

[Anonymous]

He nodded slightly as the mans muscles tightened, any battle hardened warrior would do so at the sight of his kind, the drow grinned as he leaned forward, “A little jabbering drunk told me that this was the place to find theâ€?  he paused a moment as he pondered .  â€œdread armyâ€?  he resumed.  And I can feel Venoriks presence. Even more so I feel Qee'lakstreea’s magic very strongly here,  If he is here  for any good reason, this place would draw him the most.â€?  He finished with the explination,  and leaned back.  He had searched this long he would not turn back with out at least speaking to Venorik. he shifted a bit as he readied his self for introducing himself, more oft then naught this brought on attepts on his life.  I Am Mith Kal’daka,  Former patron of Venoriks former falling house.â€?  He started, his eyes grew a brighter red as he thought of the matrons weakness and betrayal.  â€œso you tell me,  IS Venorik with you?  Or do you hold him?â€? he asked finaley  as his fingers spun his staff slowly in his hand, as if trying to drill a hole in the floor,  his impatient’s beginning to show.

[Anonymous]

He finally got close enough to the building to hear what was happening inside, also usng his senses enhanced by the demon. MITH! he thought to himself. The voice was unmistakable, as were all to Qee'lakstreea. He slowly set Balkin's form against the wall in the doorway. He still had plans for this one, and he assumed the story behind his encounter with this drow was much more compicated than his new problems with Lith My'athar.

  He could feel the tension between the two. He turns his head to Kerath, offering a disarming smirk. He knew Mith all too well. He looks back to Mith, the smirk still upon his face. " It's been a long time." he says to Mith jokingly. " i knew i would see you again eventually." he motions to Kerath, the drow who was his most trusted friend besides Qee'lakstreea, and well, the only person he trusted besides the demon. " this is Kerath. You would do well not to cross him.....So, did you come to join us, or just drop by to say hello?" he still wore the same smirk, and let out a chuckle with his last comment. " i suggest staying here. It's quite a good thing we got going here...the most fun i've had since they called me the destroyer."

   He then decides, despite all that was going on, to give the human a bit of attention. He was, after all, the commander now. "sign up there." he says, pointing to the same parchment that had been used before the failed seige. He would keep that parchment, because every name on there was now bound to the dread army until death. He expected every single person back who wasn't killed or captured. " keep in mind that you are now with the dread army. You have anwers to questions best left unanswered. I am glad to have you with us, do not doubt, but if you change your mind about joining us now your head will be seperated from it's perch before you could exit the door. welcome to the dread army."

  He looks back to Balkin, slumped against the wall. This one felt so familiar....

[Anonymous]

Mith Kal’daka was prepared to fight, this man didn’t seem to know the danger he was in by hindering his search.  Many a fool had died for with holding required information from the drow.  He was sizing the man up when Venorik appeared, small telltale signs of combat about him.  The drow grinned as his friend greeted him,  as such a friend a drow could have.  Venorik was one of the few Mith Kal’daka Ischarri trusted, and as such came looking for him.  â€œI see you are well comradeâ€? he said in common.  He pondered the join us comment for a moment “Vel'bol ph' dos haska, valm udossa?   Usstan doerrus ulu ensure dos zhahen still dro lu' sreen'aur.â€?  He continued,  the drow trying to deduce exactly what is transpiring in this little village.

[Anonymous]

Kerath wondered how much to tell this mysterious visitor.  He had long ago learned to trust no one, especially his own race, but this drow knew much already.  Much that few, even of Venorik's former house would ever discover and live to tell about.  The strange drow didn't look as if he was hunting Venorik, at least not for Lith My'athar or another city.  He obviously knew him personally, but whether that relationship turned out well or not, Kerath could not quite tell.  This one was hard to read.  His body language said little, as did his eyes.

Just then, Venorik walked into the room.  Kerath stood impassively as he watched the exhange between the two drow.  "So, you do know one anther," he thought upon hearing the greeting of the former weapons master.  "And apparently were friends," he added silently to himself.  Kerath looked from one to the other once more before turning back to the human.  "Find and unoccupied house to make your chambers for when we are in the village," he told the bounty hunter quietly.  "There should be one across the lane from where we are.  If not..."  He smiled.  "Give the present inhabitants their last eviction notice."

[Anonymous]

He looked to Mith with a smirk. "d' heen ussta abbil" he says with a slight chuckle."lu'oh gumash dos rin'ov guu'lac?" Venorik turns to Kerath upon hearing what he had said to the human. " only if they will no share the residence. we truly do not need anymore enemies..." He then looks straightto Kerath. " this is Mith, he can be trusted, i assure you." He rubs his hand slowly across his face, then runs his fingers through his long white hair, feeling it flow around them, easily falling back into place the moment it could no longer feel his touch. " that last trip was not very enjoyable." he says, refering to the trip back to this plane, where his soul had been torn and forced into his body by the demonic ceremony.

  He goes to the wall, clutching Balkin's shirt and dragging him to the middle of the room. He sits the unconcious body upon a chair, binding him with the web whips he had used as weapons in their fight. After he bound his new prisoner, Venorik shuts the door the building, figuring any who truly wanted in would knock, then walks back to hover over Balkin. " we shall get this one to talk." he says evilly to his companions. Qee'lakstreea works into the dark weaver's mind, getting a hold on it and staying there. It was all so beautiful. If he wanted to, he could erase all of Balkin's memories, even replace them with false ones if he cared to. He could paralyze him for life, or turn him into a vegetable. He just stayedin his mind, though, and would make sure that this one used no magic, as he had done so many times before.