Zhan casully hacked a zombie to pieces with his sword, and whipped around while swinging his sword and impaling another. "Smelly vermin" Zhan was covered with the ichor of zombie, and other questionable monsters. A skeletal soilder rose to meet the Paladin, it too fell, it's arms and head served from it's body. If I only had my old gear back.... Zhan thought grumpily, Zhan tried to smooth out his mustaches with an ichor covered hand and only suceeded in covering it will the black goo. Zhan sighed What a night, what a NIGHT! he thought as the number of monsters and other creepies mounted. He stabbed and twirl with exeptional grace for a sixty-two year old man, cleaving heads and limbs from anything that neared him.

At this same time, a sleek white wolf was rushing through the forest at his maximum speed. He was much larger than any normal wolf, almost as large as a small steed, but his agility was nothing short of impressive. Weaving through the trees as he exited his domain to venture the realm once more in search of combat training, Demetrius decided that the fastest way to move about the land would be in his wolf form. It seemed like years since he had cursed this trait as a demonic curse, but it was actually only a few days ago. Now, however, he found it to be a useful gift given to him by the great Goddess, Lothlómendil. Being a Lycanthrope was a powerful tool that helped him both avoid fights and end them. He tried not to use it for the later option, but for strong opponents, it was sometimes necessary.

To any others, he looked like any ordinary wolf. Except for his size. And the large sword strapped across his back. That was it though. Even with such a burden, he still moved with the silent swiftness of a fox. Seeing the land suddenly change from an earthly green to a barren brown, Demetrius placed his front paws on a rock and pushed off, using the force of his own speed and momentum to accelerate his body into a large jump too difficult for many humans or wolves to attempt. Lands with a skidding halt, Demetrius looked around. The ground was patchy with dry, gray grass and dead, black trees. A low layer of mist kept to the ground, and the sky, despite it being daylight, was dark and desolate. Where exactly was he? He had no idea, but sadly at a time such as this, it didn't even matter. No more than three seconds after he had set foot in this strange land had a scrawny man with bluish gray skin and blank white eyes come out of the darkness. Demetrius tilted his head at the man, who drooled black saliva as he shuffled forward, slow as a tortoise. And then, he attacked.

Jumping back, Demetrius managed to dodged a lethal swipe towards his head. His speed was already high, but his quadrupedal form enhanced his speed even more. However, he could only fight with his claws and fangs. Not only was that weak, but he didn't want zombie blood in his mouth. So, he transformed. His skeleton shrunk into itself. Bones snapped and jutted out of their place, only to realign themselves properly. Cuts formed as his bones poked out, but healed over and bulked out as his muscles expanded and then toned out. Landing with a thud, Demetrius reached back with a furry clawed hand and unsheathed his longsword, before holding it at his side and growling deeply, his upper lip curling up to reveal rows of razor sharp yellowing fangs. He was in his bipedal form now, not as fast as his quadrupedal, but much more stronger and durable. This was his true form. His highest extent of power. With a vicious roar, he threw himself at the zombie, but not before catching a glimpse of the large group of brethren zombie behind him and a figure swinging through them with a sword.

Zhan continued his deadly dance through the zombies, after he got his settled in he began to hum an old warsong. By now his sword was running with fresh ichor, running over the hilt all over his hands. His path was taking him directly at the bipedal wolfman. Swing swing, twist, dodge. He was almost there. It appeared he was going to slice straight through the poor wolfman. Zhan's blade, headed straight for the man's throat, slid right over his head. " Pardon me, sir" And moved on to the next zombie.

Zombie blood was the most foul smelling substance to ever grace Demetrius's sensitive nose. As he carved and cleaved his way through the horde of undead bodies, the entire area was filled with the stench. It made it hard to concentrate, but with another blood-curdling roar, Demetrius sliced through the rotting neck of another zombie, decapitating it and sending it to the ground in a useless heap of dead flesh. Jumping up, he spun himself and lowered his sword, turning into a white blur of metal and fur. As he landed in the crowd of zombies, their groans could be heard, as well as the accompanied splashes of blood as Demetrius cut open mortal wounds and spilled their foul blood. Righting himself, he parried a grapple from a nearby zombie woman and elbowed her in the face, before grabbing it with his large hand and tossing it into the ground, crushing the skull with ease.

Pardon me, sir.

Demetrius's ears perked as he heard the phrase, then his gold eyes looked back to see an elderly mortal warrior fighting through the horde and skimming his sword over his head. Giving a low snarl as a warning, Demetrius rose up again and stabbed his sword through the stomach of another undead soldier, then raised his body and tossed it into the crowd, making a dominoes effect occur within the rallied troops of darkness. There seemed to be no end to them, and unless something happened fast, Demetrius would eventually lose stamina and become overtaken. Turning his head slightly, he remembered the old man. That's when he thought of a solution.

"Old man. Fight with me, help me end this subtle threat." Demetrius growled, while flinging the back of his fist into the face of an approaching zombie, his fur covered knuckles ripping through flesh and bone and cracking the skull enough to make thoughts impossible. The zombie groaned, lurch, and with the spray of black blood, fell over.

" Sounds like a plan, my friend." The old Paladin hacked his way through the horde of zombies and skeletal minions, working his way to the wolfman. He parried a thrust from a skeletal soldier, then danced away from a swipe thrown at hhim by a zombie. " I do enjoy a good fight," the old man said calmly. " What about you?

Demetrius's long muzzle parted in a wolfish grin, his yellowing fangs showing.

"Let's just say I get around now and again." He rumbled, before catching the groping hand of a Zombie and shoving his blade through the exposed chest, before slicing up and cleaving his head and neck in two. Pushing the Zombie back, his eyes widened as a Skeleton Warrior made a grab for the old man's head. Narrowing his golden yellow eyes, he lunged forward and sliced the hand of the adversary off, before swinging around and dealing a clean blow to his skull, leaving a huge hole in the side and toppling him over.

"Now, enough small talk, friend. Let's end this." Demetrius said back to the man, before jumping up, his sword spinning against his twirling fingers overhead. He let out a fierce howl, then landed in the midst of the horde, crushing another undead soldier as he cleaved and carved his way through the army of darkness. This place, The Land Of The Dead, sure did get it's name properly.

Zhan smiled abesently, as he smashed a zombie's face with his hilt. Zhan then slashed a skeleton in half with a powerful downward swipe. You have any ideas on how to end this, young wimpersnapper?" Zhan asked as he twirled his sword in one hand. I was planning on killing them all...." He twirled the blade into a zombie's head.

Standing amongst the large undead corpses he had made, Demetrius looked back at the elder warrior. They didn't have too many more foes left. A couple dozen at the most. The two of them together had dealt a serious slap to the face of darkness this day. With so few foes, Demetrius decided to leave the fight to the warrior, since he enjoyed slaughtering the denizens of death so much. Closing his eyes, Demetrius allowed his body to slowly transform back to his original state. Bones snapped and flesh curdles as his fur sinks back into his skin and his muscles lessen. Letting a snarl turn into a yawn, Demetrius lays against a dead tree and shrugs.

"I dunno, old man. You seem to be doing a good job." Demetrius joked, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes to catch a quick nap as the old mortal finished his work.

Zhan wandered about casually killing the remaining zombies, the last one, he sliced off a leg, regarded it with disdain as it crawled about trying to kill him. He almost sneered as he drove his blade home, creating a large hole in the creatures cranium. He shrugged, and pulled out a cloth and began to clean his sword with it, washing away the grim of battle, completly ignoring he hlpful stranger.

Shrugging, Demetrius stood up and stretched, cracking a few of his freshly melded bones. He was tired of the constant fighting, not with the world, but with himself. The struggle of good and evil that overtook his heart and made his soul scream. He wanted to be rid of it. Seeing as this old man, as skilled as he was, would not be able to help him, Demetrius decided to leave. Placing his sword back into it's sheath without even attempting to clean it, Demetrius turned his back towards the Paladin and smirked to himself.

"Thanks, old man, for not asking questions." He muttered, and then started to walk down the same path he took to get here.

"Not asking questions? Wha kind of questions? Who are you, where did you come from, why did you come here, do you like beef or chicken? Zhan asked as he meandered over the dead bodies and over to Demetrius. Those kind of questions? Zhan smiled a little beneath his long mustaches.