Slowly, Derian floated in and out of his dreams. What had been an avenue of perverse pleasure and relaxation had become an agent whose end goal included designs to destroy the small but hallowed solace that alleviated his cruel existence. Dreams of revenge and darker acts had been banished as fog and a sense of communion took over. His trek through the woods had taken a mysterious turn. The mists had become scary, even for abomination that he was. Tree reeked with life force and seemed to taunt him into rash actions. More than one had been shattered utter his massive claws. His scar which had glowed a faint green now purred with power as it shone full force, much like that oh so joyous night he had met his master.
Curse master…hell look at that, I’m even calling him ‘Master’ nowadays. He gives me what I asked of him, but he disappears from the forest with nothing, especially not any directions or, goddess forbid, orders about what exactly my job is...
With a shrug, Derian lops a stick he had been fiddling with at a nearby tree. With a flash, a nymph appeared and caught the stick. As it struggled to keep afloat, it threw a spiked ball at Derian. Grunting as he struggled to his feet, Derian reached for another branch to swing at the fairy with. Try as he might, the ball and its new found family, which had been thrown at him, soon took their toll and he was forced to the ground.
Fool, this is our land. Your kind are the opposite of what we foster in the world. Jovial youth are our prey, not wasted and sickly old timers. You come to our land to unleash nightmares don’t you? Our dreams of hopeless mischief and premature love are the bane of your existence, aren’t they? Demons mightier than you have fallen, you great ox. I will call my kin tog…
Derian took a ball and threw it at the nymph catching her off guard. Using his hands as leverage, Derian turned to the little spirit and glared at her. “You think I want to be here? Trust me ‘friend’, my master kind of left me out to dry. I’m struggling to get out of here. Actually, I’m guessing if nymphs live here, then I have invaded the land of hope and dreamers. I’m not here to steal your ‘joy and hope’. I am trying to get my HALF-ASSED demon self out of these woods and to my master. I’m guessing even Death will be pissed at you if your kind decide to take out his chosen servant…don’t you think?”
With a shudder, the nymph flashes her hand and her scowl is replaced with a dark grin, “Death you say? How about my elders call him…? Until then deary, sit tight and enjoy our show… With that, the nymph danced off, leaving the beaten minotaur tied down in branches, with pixies dancing in his head as he slept the time away…

His vision obscurred by the mist, Famine walked around the forest aimlessly. It was nearly impossible for him to navigate his way through. As a demon, he speant most of his time in the harsher terrains of the world, not enchanted forests, where pixies and other such creatures ran about, giggling constantly at youthful jokes. Famine spat. "I need to get the hell out of here..." The demon said angrily. Famine knew not how he even stumbled upon this forest in the first place. The last thing he remembered when things were once visible was a forest that had a magical aura about it, where an entire spectrum of colors danced in the air. "Its as if this place was torn from some twisted fairy tale." The demon added. The forest he was in now was similar, but the air was thick in fog, and Famine couldn't see two feet in front of him. He constantly stumbled over twigs and roots sticking from the ground. "Damn this place! It shall be the first to burn!" Famine shouted, infuriated.
His curses stopped for a moment, after hearing a conversation in the distance. The demon tried to listen in, to gather more information about what these things that speaking were, they weren't human, Famine knew for sure.
"You think I want to be here? Trust me ‘friend’, my master........................ I’m struggling .................................get my HALF-ASSED demon self out of...............Death will be pissed ..............out his chosen servant…don’t you think?” Famine tried to make sense of what was being said. He couldn't hear everything being said, but did hear his comrade's name mentioned, and the way it was said, made Famine think whatever was speaking was talking about the Death.
The conversation ended, and Famine started walking in the direction the conversation had been coming from. Spear in hand, he made sure that he had surprise on his side. As the demon ventured closer, he heard the cursings of a high-pitched female voice. "Nymph.." Famine whispered to himself, but it was closer than he expected, and the two collided with each other. "Gah!" The demon shouted in surprise. But Famine, being quicker than the nymph, gripped his hand around its body before it could flee. "Another of his kind!" Famine, having a good idea of what was going on, tightened his grip on the nymph. "I will destroy you!" He threatened. "Re..release.. me.." It replied, barely able to speak under the pressure of the demon's grip. "So be it." Famine stated simply. He hurled the nymph back at where she came from. Taking no time to waste, he followed, clutching his spear, to finish it off.

Death floated through the world of dreams, passing noiselessly through what appeared to be a forest. His gaze never wavered from the path in front of him, and he was unconcerned about any malicious creature that might try to harm him. Even in dreams, he was the keeper of the dead, and even dreams could die. Not a trace of his passing was left as he ghosted noiselessly through the forest. Plants seemed to bend out of his way as he made his way quickly towards his goal. The link that he had made between himself and Derian was guiding him easily towards the demon. It was time that Derian proved his worth, and it was time that the gods knew their name once again. The riders were reunited, and the world would tremble with their passing.

Feeling Derian get closer, Death speeded up, practically racing through the world of dreams as he sought out the member of his guild. As he came upon Derian, he stooped, looking down at him. Raising his hand, the scythe appeared in it. Swinging the deadly blade down, he swept the creatures off of Derian and smoothly cut his bonds. Planting the handle on the ground, he looked down at Derian. "It is time Derian, all of the riders have gathered, and we will soon be on the move."

The sadistically cruel dream of two feet tall women dancing was driving Derian insane. Somehow that lady of a fairy or whatever she was left me awake in this dream…Goddess of whatever, help her when I wake up from this, because I swear to you her wings will be ripped into pieces and her fragile body will be crushed, mashed, and maimed. Her entire kin will be crus…

Derian is cut off as he twirls around and around in the psychedelic, dreamy landscape. The small pixies transform into little dwarfs that are carrying pickaxes as they dance to some music. Their former droopy and pleasant eyes shift to blood red, and their healthy, though stout, bodies soon begin to shrivel up. Almost as all the moisture within their bodies was being drawn out by some manipulative demon. As if sensing their demise, the numerous dwarves yet again shift. Their bodies begin glowing white and drawing together to form a glowing mass of bodies.

Two pale green eyes glare out from the glowing huddle and speak to Derian, in a voice both melodic and grating on the soul. As if in response to eyes, Derian’s rune glows bright acknowledging his master was near."It is time Derian, all of the riders have gathered, and we will soon be on the move." With a shout, Derian returns to conscience with a scythe swinging over his head and his master looking him straight in the eyes.

”So it seems master. I may yet be able to prove my worth to you. There is a couple things mi’Lord,” Derian struggles to his feet, still weary from the standoff with the nymph…Speaking of the nymph, I heard her cries in that cursed dream…there’s someone else here… With a shrug Derian points over his master’s left shoulder, “There’s someone over there…something that wasted my dreams away…I can sense him master, he’s right…there!” Derian hurls a small fireball in the dark and connects with a cloaked man carrying a spear. Immediately the spark flares illuminates the cloaked figure and then winks out. “That’s the entity I sensed. He wasted away the dwarves; before you lumped them tog…AH MULLET!” With a loud roar, a large dragon lumbers towards the master and apprentice from behind the spear wielding figure. Its contorted body is made up from countless dwarves yelling and cursing and reaching out with countless misplaced hands. The entire structure of the body of the dragon was simply a golum of live dwarves fused together, but it didn’t matter, it was coming straight for the minotaur and Death, easily out weighing them by a few thousand pounds and towering over the minotaur by a good twenty feet…”Help?

With a twang an arrow catches the ‘dragon’ in the ‘head’. Undeterred, the dragon kept lumbering towards the demons. Now what would two demons be doing within the dreamy woods, or the El Shendors as my people called them. Why would they for one be attacking some of my friends, and why wo…make that three demons.

Silently with practiced grace Laeoni circles behind the master and his oxen servant to get a better look at them. The brute of an ox stood tall even compared to the dragon. Its black skin showed generous strength and the beast’s head shone with a pale green. What in the name of the stars would cause his head to shine wi… Laeoni froze as the prior feeling of uneasiness that he had been feeling came to a front. The animal part of him always felt in tune with nature, and Death was not something that was welcomed within the wonderful world of nature. Here stood the essence of this uneasiness, and with him stood a servant of sorts. This must mean the fabled ‘Horsemen’ were moving, but wait there’s another rank smell…starvation…oh no, this will not work at all…

With a sense of urgency, Laeoni gallops off away from the Wood of Dreams, begging to his Goddess of Balance that the deities were aware that the world was coming to bad and horrible day. Manifestations of his dreams gave way to a misty forest which lent itself to grassland as the Centaur galloped towards the Temple of Life…

Death turned to face the "dragon", staring the charging beast down. The dwarves were too stupid to recognize doom when they saw it, and they continued forward, intent on running over the tall, frail-looking figure dressed in black. Death's eyes flared as several things occured at once. First, several spectors came out of the ground, pale figures that picked off random dwarves from the "dragon". Raising his scythe into the air, Death swiftly moved, towards the "dragon". Swinging the scythe in one hand, he slashed the creature across it's face, cutting several dwarves neatly in half. Reaching out with his hand, he grabbed hold of a dwarf. A cold feeling spread out into the dwarf as it's life was slowly leached from it. As one, the mountain of dwarves reared up and lunged for Death, intent on smothering him with their weight. Death responded with a killing enervation bolt that ended the effort for several dwarves. Still, his bolt did not stop all of them, and they continued towards him.

At the last instant, Death leaped back, landing lightly as the "dragon" smashed into the ground where he used to be. In all of that, Death wasn't the slightest bit winded, having stolen the life from a great many dwarves during the brief encounter. When the "dragon" landed on the ground, Death rushed forward, swinging his scythe faster than the eye could follow. Barely slowing when he collided with the mass of dwarves, he cut a swath of death through the mass. Calling back to his follower, he urged him on. "Come Derian, these creatures must learn their place! They need to realize that they cannot match us!"

Shell-shocked at the sight of a dream come to life, Derian quivered at the onset of the meet and greet with the dwarven mass. His hands reached back over his shoulders, groping for his axes. Where cold steel or rough wooden handles would have met the seared hands, scarred back met the searching fingers. Panicked, Derian began frantically searching the woods around him for his axes, and, to his dismay, no such comforting weapons were found. However something did catch his eyes. As he got on all fours Derian scrambled trying to find the silver glimmer that had reflected the dark bolts of the enervation bolts. With a gasp of surprise, a short sword, his old short sword, and an ornate dagger lay on the ground. Growling in satisfaction, Derian turned to face the monster ahead of him and grinned widely he bounded around the dragon quietly. With white, glowing eyes Derian reached out and gripped the dragon's leg and froze it over with a touch of ice. “He won’t be walking anytime soon with one frozen leg and another severed off.

Howling in rage, Derian’s eyes glazed over a dark crimson red and then a pale green before mixing and glowing an olive color. Gripping his sword, Derian leapt in the air and struck a pose as his massive body shifted into rock hard granite. Feeling devoid of any mercy and any shame, Derian fell to the ground, blade pointed out, ripping through the mass. The weight of the granite Minotaur ripped the leg off of the ‘dragon’ forcing dwarves to scream in terror as blood gushed as the stoned demon continued the assault with his master.

[OOC: Sorry for the short post. Sickness + writers block. I'll come back and edit it for extended length if no one has responded before then.]

((Sorry for the late reply =P))

Famine saw glimmering of something in the distance. His red eyes focused on it, seeing that it was some sort of light, but it approached at him faster than he had seen anything move. His reflexes kicked in, and he bent backwards, the fireball flying inches over his face. The demon could feel the heat of the flames for a moment, but the fire ball faded into the mist. "Well, it seems that someone knows of my presence, other than that idiotic faerie." Famine said under his breath. As he kept walking to where the pixie fell, he heard battle in the distance. Clutching his spear, his eyes searched the misty woods. The demon spotted the silhoette of something, but what the something was Famine could not tell. As he came within a few meters of the battle, he sensed Death's presence. Although Famine could not see him directly, he could see the demon's faintly glowing green eyes, and also saw another demon. The other who was there was much larger than Death.

Famine stood confused, as he watched the monstrosity, Death, and his ally for the battle fight each other. Looking closer at the abomination, he saw that it was made out of the corpses of many dwarves. Death and his ally had damaged it severely, but it still drug on. Famine decided that he would remain as he was and watch the fight. He paced around as they fought, sticking his spear in fallen dwarves, turning their bodies to dust. Famine did not enjoy the smell of rotting dwarves, and figured he would help speed the decaying process up.


((sorta crappy and short, but i'm le tired.))