Chapter Three -"Descent"

After the first Dark Shard concert, Raziel decided to fight in the arena again. When he entered the arena master's office, he found Mortugal instead of Vittur.

"Where is Vittur!?" He asked worriedly.

"He had been committing crimes and is now incarcerated." Mortugal replied, counting his Tokens.

"Vittur... committing crimes? That's unheard of!" Raziel vociferated.

"Let's get down to business. You here to fight, or not?" Mortugal asked matter-of-factly.

“That is why I came here, but now I have other business to attend to.” Raziel replied, heading for the door.

ΘΘΘ

At the top of the spiral staircase to Tartarus, Raziel hesitated. He had heard many a horrid thing about this place. There were fires so hot they seared demon flesh, tortures unimaginable. He shook these thoughts from his head; he had to find his friend. The moment his foot touched the first step, he could feel the air getting hotter.

ΘΘΘ

Jenxier had not heard of Vittur’s conviction. He lounged on an obsidian fixture, humming the tune to a Silk Road Bandits song. He heard something move and broke from his nirvana. Upon a rudimentary scan, he saw nothing. A creature with an iron mask and steel teeth entered from the shadows.

“Who or what are you!?” Jenxier asked. The creature seemed to speak in a language Jenxier did not understand. The creatures back opened, as if being cut. Chains came out through the bloody torrent. “What are you!?” Jenxier yelled. Each chain had a red hot spike at its end. “No! You can’t do this! What authority do you have!?!?!?!?!?” Jenxier yelled as the molten metal entered his flesh.

ΘΘΘ

Halfway down the staircase, Raziel came to a checkpoint. He cursed under his breath; he had not been prepared for this. He attempted to fabricate a way to get past the guards there. Maybe the tome will help me? He thought. He pulled the tome out of his pack, trying to will it to do something. He morphed into a macabre creature with a false guard to pull him in. Genius! He thought. The real guards, perceiving this as an incarceration, allowed him passage.

ΘΘΘ

Jenxier knelt on the ground, battered and bleeding. A man came down the ebony staircase in front of him.

“You will make a fine servant.” The man said.

“Who are you? Are you alive or dead?” Jenxier asked.

“As for the latter, I am dead.” The man replied.

“And the former?” Jenxier asked, coughing up blood.

“Vlad Dracul.”