Hell's Gate
            Episode II: Algoroth

The Story

The Rusty Dog Inn - Absinth Village
     This establishment is meant to be a place of warmth and life even
in the midst of all the horror outside. All around the place people
would be chatting and drinking.  Sharing tales of high adventure over a
warm meal served by the lovely ladies who work here. Torches burn to
give more light for the room and cast shadows over the walls as they
sputter and flicker. A roaring fireplace is against the far wall, two
tables set up there for anyone who seeks to take the chill from their
bones.
     A long bar is situated along one wall and usually a great number of
patrons sit there to drown the sorrows of the day. Tables dot the
remainder of the room, four chairs to each to allow small group to sit
and chat or to gain strength from one another via companionship. A set
of stairs lead upwards to the only available 'extra' rooms in the
village and for a nominal fee, a weary traveler may find rest for the
night.
  
Obvious Exits:
 < SU >     Stairs                      < TS >     Town Square                
Contents:
Maggie
Solomon
Miles

The first figure nods, "Your loss...", and takes one of the two gold
pieces in his hand, to pay for the night.  He then proceeds to the
stairs.
 
The second figure takes a gold piece from his coat and tosses it towards
the Innkeeper to pay for the night before heading after the first
figure, to stop him at the top of the stairs in case they have a chance
to hear a conversation like he heard the night before.  In any event, he
will be sneaking downstairs in the middle of the night to collect a bit
of charcoal from the firepit.  It will probably come in handy.
 
The Innkeeper is stopped by his wife scowling at her as he seeks to head
out of the room. "But husband..shouldn't they know?"  He scowls, shaking
his head. "You know very well what would be done to us..if we did. And
besides..they wouldn't believe us anyway."  He scowls and shoves her
hard to move toward the backroom. "Move now...there may be time
later..if they actually see what happens."

The first figure muses a moment at what he heard, giving the second
figure a questioning look.  He then motions for the upstairs hall, and
heads on up.

Upstairs Hallway - The Rusty Dog Inn
     This is a very simple hallway. With little money to spread around
in ameneties, there are no extras that have been placed to give it a
more homey feel.  No potted plants to soften the edges.  No mirrors or
pictures to line the hallway to take from it the coldness that it shows
right now. Be that as it may, doors line this simple hallway.  A single
window at the very end being the only decoration that could be said to
exist here.
     The only way out is to enter one of the rooms or to take the stairs
back down.
   
Obvious Exits:
 < R4 >     Room4                       < R2 >     Room2                      
 < R5 >     Room5                       < R3 >     Room3                      
 < R1 >     Room1                       < SD >     Stairs
Contents:
Maggie
Solomon
Miles

The second figure chuckles and shakes his head, following the first
figure up the stairs.  As the reach the hallway, he mumbles lowly so the
first figure can hear him, "Aren't we in for just such a great shock." 
His tone is obviously sarcastic.

The hallway is quiet.  Deathly quiet really and it seems you two are the
only people staying here at the moment.  But then, who else but either
the brave or the foolish would see to be this close to Hell's Gate. The
doors on either side lead to various rooms.  Ones facing the alleyway. 
And ones facing the harbour. It's not really hard to decide in most
cases which way you'd rather be facing.

The first figure tilts his head slightly, and inquires, "You knew they
were going to say something?  I take it that you've eavesdropped on them
in the past... so my question is, what did you hear before?"  He looks
about slowly, taking note of the silence, and trying to spot anything
that may lead to the belief that they may be the ones now being
eavesdropped on.

The second figure turns his head to the first figure and shakes his
head, "I'm not entirely sure you want to know.  It's not good news that
I'd be giving you. All I can say is, he was right.  If they tell us,
they're as good as dead. . . or worse."

Outside the window at the end of the hallway, a howling starts that's
pitched to chill the soul. Not even a wolf could make such a sound and
the sounds of a few voices as well can be caught as the wind shifts. 
Could it actually be people out in this?  But then, unless you look
you'll never really know if it's just a trick of the wind or perhaps
something else.

The first figure raises a brow, readying a reply to the second figure's
cryptic response when he hears the howl and detects the voices.  At
first he simply listens, trying to make out what they may be saying, or
what the origin may be.  Then, he slowly heads towards the window,
unsure of what to expect, but well aware that it may not be the most
enjoyable sight.  He stops half a foot from the window, and gazes out,
not wanting to get too close.

The second figure looks towards the window and follows the first towards
it to peer outside.  "Now what do you suppose made that noise?"

It seems that a ship has arrived and the long boats are moving toward
the shoreline not far from the actual port.  The voices are the men
wearing black cloaks and carrying bags over their shoulders.  They
mutter between themselves, sometimes angrily as to when exactly to leave
the boats. The man who seems to be running the show, or mostly anyway,
motions them to remain and he gets out by himself. Most of the village
is silent, perhaps afraid to make a sound for fear of being noticed. Two
figures step out from the shadows and walk towards the man waiting. One
of them growls at the man but is instantly silenced by the second one
with a simple wave of his hand.

The first figure steps to one side of the window, to escape from direct
view, as he intently watches the odd gathering at the port.

The second figure steps to the side slightly to move out of view.  He
keeps his eyes on the show nevertheless, even though he doesn't have to
look directly at it to see it.

The man waiting does a deep bow toward the powerful(evidently to him)
figure. "Sir..we are here at the prescribed time.  We have brought you
what you asked for."  He bows again and motions toward the men who seem
suddenly quiet and more scared now that the pair is before them. The
powerful figure nods once and an old seemingly ancient voice comes out
from within the dark folds of the cloak. "Excellent. You..may give them
to my /slave/." There is a hissed chuckle before the taller figure steps
forward to accept the bags from the men. Clawed hands reach for them and
there is a moment it seems that the figure doesn't want to do as it's
told.  The older figure seems to stiffen slightly, snapping his wrickled
fingers before uttering two seemingly simple words.  Or..perhaps only
partial words. "Gre'ait Obey."  The larger figure seems to hunch it's
shoulders, stiffening before it goes back to it's task.

The first figure narrows his brow as he watches the older figure.

The second figure eyes the situation and arches a brow, mumbling to the
first figure, "Charming fellow, isn't he?"

The large form collects all of the bags and seems to carry then without
problem.  It turns away from the group, standing back a few paces to
wait for his 'master' to give him leave to go. He stands with a certain
amount of arrogance though in his posture.  The older figure doesn't
seem to care or doesn't notice it. "That is very good, captain. Now..you
may go. I will expect you back next month with more of the same.  Or..it
will be most unpleasant for you and those you and your crew care about." 
The old hand waves, dismissing them and then turns without another
glance.  He is soon swallowed by the fog.  He and his 'pet' demon. The
captain scowls after the old figure, hand going to his head for a moment
before he looks back to him men. "Another month..let's get back to work
men.  We have much to do before that time arrives." He motions toward
the men and they ready to head back to the larger ship.

The first figure remains still, a frown across his face.  When he
finally decides to move, he quietly backs away from the window, to
remain out of the sights of those with wandering eyes.  With a sigh and
a shake of his head, he starts back towards the stairs, mentioning in a
flat tone, "I'm going for a walk."...

The second figure turns away from the window with a look of disgust on
his face, "Well, that was definitely... interesting."  At the mention of
the walk, he straightens up and looks to the first figure, "I suppose
I'll go with you then.  I could use some fresh air."

Town Square - Absinth Village
     Tall pines can be seen in the distance.  Majestic spires of
greenery that shelter and surround the small hamlet. Mists fill the
areas of space though.  Clinging mists with swirls that make it appear
almost alive as it coils within the thick stand of trees.  This is the
way into the land beyond as well as the way out from areas as yet unseen
by most of those dwelling within this village.
     The village itself is a simple place.  Simple tastes and even
simpler lives.  There is no technology to be seen, save for the
occasional cart with a bad wheel.  There is a blacksmith shop, soft
clang of hammer to metal echoing within the silent streets. There is a
Council Hall where the people can come to have their voices heard. A
small bar for those who seek to drown sorrows, rests east of the center
of town and lonely harbour rests to the south.  The ships all shrouded
in fog and often vanishing for a time before the fog mysteriously moves
back from them.
 
Obvious Exits:
 < RD >     The Rusty Dog Inn           < CH >     Council Hall               
Contents:
Maggie
Solomon
Miles

The boats head back slowly toward the ship which seems to lay anchored
some distance away from the village. The soft 'swish' of the oars is the
only thing that can be heard at the moment, but slight alterations in
the fog may give a clue as to the direction the two figures went. Other
than this, the village is dark and quiet.  Evidently, they knew of this
happening tonight and wanted nothing to do with it.

The first figure starts to whistle some foreign tune, as he heads
towards the port, and the trail in the fog; his pace steady and
confident.  He looks about the area, examining anything that may seem
even more out of place than the town itself, or for any sign of movement
that does not have its origin with the first and second figures. 
Figures who haven't even formally introduced themselves; fancy that.

The second figure chuckles at the fact that the first figure is
whistling.  He continues walking, pulling out his silver flask to take a
drink from.  After a quick drink, it goes back into his trench coat,
securely fastened shut.  "Cheery place.  Anyone want to visit the sea?"

The boats continue toward the main ship, oblivious it seems of the
whistling.  Though the captain does stiffen a bit and look back toward
the shoreline to see whom may be doing it. He doesn't tell his men to
stop though and only watches. The swirls in the fog thin out a bit,
revealing a small path that leads right along the shore. Perhaps this is
where the two figures went? The area is eerily quiet though.  No
crickets..no insect sound at all dare disturb whatever may lie this way.

The first figure seems somewhat amused as he heads down the path that
leads along the shore.  Perhaps the two will get to swim a bit this
evening.  In any event, he doesn't seem the bit disturbed by it,
afterall, who knows what he may have had to handle on previous missions,
this may be a sinch compared to some... or maybe not.  He decides to
silence his whistling, so he can listen for footsteps, specifically,
footsteps that don't belong to the first and second figures.

The second figure follows carefully behind the first, not really in the
mood for a midnight swim, but at least prepared.  He mumbles quietly to
the first figure, "You know, they probably made this path for us to
follow so they can push us in."

Swim?  Did someone say swim? Well the waters are way to murky for that,
but they certainly do give good cover to anything that may be beneath
the surface.  Luckily, this time, nothing decided to jump out and go
'Boo!', but that doesn't mean it may be the case always.  After all,
some factions work against others and what one may know..another may
not.  That is the way of things when everyone is fighting for more power
than they presently have. The path continues, snaking literally down the
other side of a small hill where some fires can be seen. Four small ones
that surround a larger one in the center. The larger figure stands back
to one side, while the older man stands nearly next to the fire.  He's
tossing in some things which hiss and smoke and mumbling words.

The first figure slowly comes to a halt, as he quietly watches, brow
raised.  Now what could this old man be up to?  Perhaps he's conjuring
up some sort of demon... or perhaps he is a demon himself, and is honing
his powers... hmmm, this shall be interesting...

The second figure stops dead in his tracks near the first and eyes the
scene that is before him.  What a pleasant sight to see.  It seems there
are many in this town who are quite evil.

The chanting continues and as it does, the fire begins to turn blue in
coloring. Bright and glaring blue. The old man seems almost now to be
shouting the words, though it seems they are in some old language that
is hard even to place for the both of you. It could be familiar, but the
words are too run together to make them out. The flame then turns bright
orange, tongues of yellow and angry red dancing within the base of
orange. He stands taller then, throwing back the hood on his cloak. 
Something akin to a skeleton now stares
at the fire. Empty orbs look upon the flames and the bare lipped grin of
the dead curls along it's bare skull.

The first figure squints a moment, and mumbles, "What kind of horrendous
beast do we now lay our eyes upon?", he slowly gets to his feet, and
looks into the fire...  Reflections of the fire glint in his eyes as he
calls to the second figure, "It is time we put an end to this madness."

The second figure nods to the first and steps slowly forward, making his
way down the hill.  Part way down, he slides and stumbles slightly, but
swiftly regains his footing.  Once straightened out, he looks at at the
beast that stands in front of the fire.  His voice is loud enough to be
heard by all those present, "Damn, you're ugly."

The skeleton is just stepping into the fire as the words are said. 
That's fine.  The spell is completed and soon he will have a body back
once more. He stands within the flames, looking all very much like
something hell just coughed out as he points toward you both. "Gre'ait. 
Destroy."  The larger figure hears the command and moves forward to
obey. The figure in the fire..well, he seems to be growing muscles back
at the moment.  Much like the 'HollowMan' only in reverse.

The first figure narrows his brows at the man in the fire, and shouts,
"What's wrong?  Too cowardly?  Can you not fight your own battles, or
must you send your little slave to fight?", he turns towards the
oncoming beast, and points his finger at it, "Gre'ait, don't!"

The second figure looks at Gre'ait and shakes his head, "This is
pathetic."  Instead of paying attention to the oncoming demon, he eyes
the fires.  A smirk forms on his lips as he slips his shield out from
his back, placing his sword that is held within into his coat.  He takes
the shield over to the shore, which is not too far from where he stands. 
Once there, he flips it over, to use it as a basin with which he fills
with the murky water.  He then turns and begins to carefully walk
towards one of the small fires.

The form in the fire is quickly moving on toward having skin and now the
partially created eyes, peer out toward the one with the shield. Well
now, we certainly can't have that and it motions with a partially
constructed hand to shoot a rather large fireball at that man. The demon
who is following order, roars angrily as the partial of it's name is
said.  But it's not that partial that holds it bound.  It's the full
name and it has no choice but to continue forward. Now though it's angry
since the the partial that the first man said hit it like a slap across
the face.

The first figure muses a moment, before watching the fireball pass by
him, he shouts to the water-bearer, "Look out!".  Finally, he returns
his gaze to the enraged demon... so fine, it's under a spell, how
lovely... so let's remove it perhaps, eh?  He steps forward and shouts,
"Gre'aitilaminem Aben'il!  I hereby free you from control of the
hot-head in the fire!  May the grace of liberty be with you!"

The second figure blinks at the oncoming fireball, "Ah shit."  He
quickly raises the shield, dumping the water all over himself, but
protecting himself with the shield, which providing his fire-retardant
charm on it was effective should go unharmed, and he'll be able to
recover quickly to plan his next scheme against the hot-head.

The water having been lost on the first attempt to put the smaller ones
out, the figure in the fire begins laughing.  He's nearly reformed now
and looks much like a young virile man as he waits to be completed. The
shout from Sol though makes him blink.  He starts cursing in ever
language possible that he knows (not an inconsiderable feat), "Damn you
mage!  Damn you and all your brethren!"  Ohboy, he's really ticked. Even
more so when the demon shrieks loudly, stiffening slightly at the words
before it takes off into the air. Poised for a moment it looks down at
Sol and rumbles, "It will not be forgotten human..what thee hast done
for me." It pauses for a moment, hanging in the air as though it took no
effort at all and then it turns on the smaller fires. The large one it
can't touch, but the smaller it can and with the dive bombing run it
does, the beat of it's wings, those fires are put out. The figure in the
fire screams.

The first figure smiles somewhat, always happy to help those enslaved by
the power-hungry.  He chuckles a moment at the 'human' part, as he
doesn't truly consider himself human, nor a mage as the hot-head had
shouted.  Okay, speaking of the hot-head, time to put it on ice.  He
turns toward the fire and frowns, "You only wish I were a mage! 
Speaking of which, it seems moreso that you would be the mage... one
with a warped mind, and baseless spells that you seek to impose on
others less fortunate.  Well, tonight shall put an end to that!", he
starts to approach, as he reaches into his overcoat to produce the spear
he constructed earlier in the day.

The second figure chuckles, and holds the shield in his left hand,
brushing some water from his coat with his right.  He nods to Gre'ait
with sincerity, "Thank you for being so kind to do the honours."  Then
he turns to the hot-head, "It's time you learn some manners pal."  His
face goes from a grin to a stern look as his sword is pulled from his
trenchcoat and his shield is held firmly in his left, the sword in his
right, "You've been a bad, bad man."  He smirks, "Time to pay the
piper."

The man in the fire has problems of his own, since when the smaller ones
were put out the color of it changed from the orange that was rebuilding
him to the blue, quickly followed by the red or a normal fire. He
screamed when that happened and fell out of the fire. There are places
still exposed and laid bare to naked flesh, but most of him was
constructed before the fire nearly killed him.  Most of his hair went
right up when that happened and now he rolls on the ground trying to put
out the cloak that caught fire the instant that the healing flame
altered. He doesn't seem to really know anyone is there.  Or maybe he
does.  There is something to be said for being the walking dead for a
time and as he moves to get to his knees, his hand motions out toward
the spear-man first.  He has no time for warriors with their swords,
since the spear is far closer.

The first figure holds out the spear, and motions at the tip, "On this
tip, is the life-giving sap of the last standing oak tree.  I am willing
to let your atrocious actions be waned, provided you cease and desist! 
So... are you friend or foe?", he holds the spear out, not in an
offensive manner, but more-so in a presentation manner... at a posture
that could quickly be reverted to that of a defensive stance, in the
case that the man decides to use this opportunity in a futile attempt to
attack.

The second figure slowly stalks towards the two, just firmly holding his
sword and shield, not standing in either defensive or offensive stance,
as he believes the first figure has things under control.  Either way,
he is prepared to go into whatever stance would be necessary.

The man on the ground scowls, eyes narrowing in anger. "Just..because
you kill one of us doesn't mean you will get us all."  He laughs, "I
sold my soul for power a very long time ago..and this is how I get it. 
This is what I have had to do over time."  He leers at both of you, "You
are both children..compared to what I..and my brothers have done." He
continues grinning as he tries to get to his feet.

The first figure just smirks, as he eyes the man, "I find your statement
highly presumptuous.  Considering the fact that I have not killed you,
nor did I kill your demon pet.  In fact, if you really think about it, I
am giving you the chance to let bygones be bygones.  Oh, and must I
remind you, that just because you decide to enslave your own soul, does
not mean you have power.  Your power is weakness, and you let it blind
you as it blinds all those like you.", he shakes his head slightly,
"Only a child makes remarks as you have, perhaps you need to learn what
true age is.  Not to mention true power." 

The second figure looks to the man on the ground, "Selling your soul for
power is a very unwise choice my friend.  Stupid even.  All you and your
brothers have managed to do is piss people off, which is a hell of a
lousy accomplishment if I ever saw one."

The eyes of the madman turn up to Sol for a moment, grin remaining on
his face even in the face of the substance on the spear. "Bah..You don't
even know to whom you speak. Does..the name Algoroth sound familiar?" 
He laughs a bit more, now fully to his feet.  He's a hideous sight
though.  All of his lovely skin is nearly gone once again from the fire.
He glances over to the man with the sword, "And you.."  He laughs,
"Wearing all your protections and hiding from the light.. Who is the
coward now, hmm?"

The first figure simply chuckles, "It doesn't surprise me that the
instigator of this terrible nightmare was one a large chip on the
shoulder.", he sighs, "Too bad you couldn't have seen the greater
power... 'hiding from the light'... if anyone is hiding, it is you. 
Hiding behind a false sense of power... from the real light.  I may not
be able to speak for my well-dressed acquaintance yonder, but I can
speak for myself when I say that I don't hide from the light.  Perhaps I
hide from the darkness that is hate, a hatred that you let consume you,
and destroy what decency and power you once did wield.  Now you are
nothing but a shell of a man who cannot even see the light of day for
what it truly is... You seem to foolishly believe that you are the only
one to possess the knowledge of yesteryear... self-righteous if I ever
did say."

The second figure glares at the man and chuckles, "Me a coward?" His
grin flattens as he becomes more serious, "I'm not the one who sold his
soul because he couldn't hack it."  He shakes his head, "Hiding from
what light exactly?   The light of the fires of Hell?  I'd rather stay
away from that myself.  If you refer to the light of kindness and
decency, I may not be the most kind or decent man, but I'm certainly not
half as bad as some people these days."

What is left of the man before you may be all of those things and much
more. One thing is certain.  That's he's long since gone mad. He's lived
longer than people should have a right to live and it's driven him
totally and completely mad. He hears the words said by the two men.  He
hears them, but he doesn't actually listen.  He's so burned into the
fact that he'll live forever by what he's been given over the ages which
have passed, that all he can do is grin like a lunatic bound for the
jacket. He tips his head slightly to one side, "You are /nothing/ to me.
You are but fleas to be plucked off and then crushed. The master has
said I will live forever..and I know this to be true. Burning hasn't
killed me. Bombs haven't killed me.  Even magick..so highly prized by
those cities which still stand hasn't killed me. You think that little
spear will do anything?"  He cackles then, teetering on the verge of
some sort of mental break. He extends his arms, smiling like he just
swallowed the canary. "I will LIVE ForEver!" and goes running toward Sol
and his upturned spear.

The first figure narrows his brow slightly, "Alright... you said it...
we are nothing... which means you need not fear us... oh... and I guess
that this spear isn't anything either...", he quickly retracts it, and
steps aside... placing it back in his coat.  "You want to live forever,
by all means.  Life goes on after death, you just choose to live it
under the control of an even lesser being... don't throw yourself at me,
for I shall not bite... if you wish to commit suicide, go do it
elsewhere.", he then turns and heads towards the second figure,
motioning for him to put his sword away.

The second figure places his sword within its sheath that is part of the
shield itself before securing it in place and returning it to his back
under his coat, "By all means, live forever.  Don't let us get in your
way."  Not so much that he doesn't want to do anything, but this lunatic
doesn't really seem to be worth his time or effort to destroy, vanquish,
or banish.

The man blinks, looking back over to the both of you before he begins
cackling. "Oh..See you run away!  Pitiful excuses for humanity. My
master will be pleased!"  He laughs for a bit more, eyes wide and wild.
"How the mighty have fallen!"  He screams a ear piercing sound before he
takes off running into the mists. Pity the poor soul that comes across
that freak.  Especially the state he's in. Once he is gone, the silence
reigns supreme once again.  The crickets returns, hesitantly singing
their nightly song.

The first figure simply shakes his head... "How foolish... if anyone ran
away, it was he... it takes far more courage than even he has to step
down from a battle... especially when you can easily win.  Perhaps his
salvation will come... but at this moment, it would not be wise to
disturb the carnal curse that has enslaved his soul... killing him would
be futile to this end.", he turns to look at the second figure, "Funny
how he considered us 'mighty', eh?"... he ponders the 'human' part...
considering that with all the demon's power, it had not really seen
it... oh well... he heads towards the path that led the two figures this
way, en route back to the Inn.

The second figure follows after the first figure, brushing the last of
the murky water from his trenchcoat, "That guy was a lunatic.  Poor
fool."  Time to get some sleep perhaps.