A Queen vs a Horesmen RPG

Now that the Monoliths of War had fallen into line, Wrath, Deceit, and Lust. All of them, Azrael, Matrushka and Alexandria would be pieces of the puzzle, cogs in the great machine of existence that will eventually end. And now, the greatest pillar of them all, the one that would bring it all to pass; Malice had begun the toiling necessary to start the ordeal that would in the end, leave her alone to rule the world. Or what was left of it.  
 
Seeking out an artifact, a map really, she traveled to places around the world that she thought might hold it. The map was enchanted, able to locate anything, anywhere to an exact pinpoint. A very useful tool to have in any case, but, she needed it for something very specific and sinister. The first place she tried, was in the country of Asia. The Goddess of Death thought that maybe in the pagoda's of the Himalayan mountains, the monks would tell where it was hidden, but no. Not one of their bald heads would part a lip to her highness, so out of frustration, and amusement, she made them all kill each other. The ability to incite fear, and then manipulate it within others had become so useful to her.  
 
There were many other places she looked, and no other place had traces of the map. Until she searched Area 51, where she was lead to the Pentagon. Apparently heads of the Board of Administration there had finally gotten the bright idea to use it to find all the people they were looking for. And so, she showed up on the lawn of the "greatest military building" to ever be built. Almost as soon as she got there, guards, men and woman armed with high caliber weapons flooded the lawn. Halt. Freeze...Put your hands in the air. They said, with firm voices, and assuring looks. They knew that a woman dressed in black leather, (Malice had found a new found affinity for it) was much of a threat to anyone. And for a moment she did. Lifting her hand in the air, black waves began to waft around her hand, and Jo, her prized weapon appeared.  
 
Now inside of the Pentagon, she drug Jo behind her, it had turned red from the blood it spilled. Alarms had since sprang, resounding throughout the entire building, signaling the threat, and still she walked the halls as calmly as she wanted. Questioning, and killing anyone who could not tell her where the map was, Malice finally found someone who knew who it was. "Where is it?" The woman knelt before her, crying, pleading "I've got children. Please. Please... It's on the Sub 16th floor, please." Malice smiled, almost assuring the woman that her life would be spared. But she was nothing special to Malice. What worth did this woman serve for her. She was going to find the map either way, this woman just made things easier. And what sort of bringer of entropy would she be if she let this woman live. Deciding that it was best to destroy her, here and now, she did. Attaining the map, she folded it up, and conjured three souls to take it back to Pandoria.  
 
Exiting the building, the sky had turned from its normal blue, to gray and darker shades of gray. It was about to rain, but there was no thunder or water falling from the sky. This was a different kind of rain, and now, she could feel it. Something else, something powerful was coming. Malice, levitated up toward the sky holding her hand out while black energy flowed from it. It circled in front of her until it amassed into a portal, until there was a crack. A great crack. Like lightning had split air right inside of her ear. Whatever was coming was near, and she was going to stay and find out what it was, and then she would destroy it. 

An entire world burned.

And WAR was the arsonist. An epic campaign had spanned the globe with death and fire and now nothing was left. Nothing but the strong. Like her father, Apocalypse himself, demanded. Only her, her three siblings and her father. The weak had been exterminated in a glorious global campaign of genocide. Like a goddess WAR had lead this bloody crusade from the front and had crushed entire nations under her heel.

Now that society was non-existent, that it lay in broken shards at her feet her berserker rage started to boil up again. Where before the sweet wine of slaughter had sated her infinite craving for death the beast now called for blood again. Millions had died by her hands, ripped apart or dying in seas of blood, screaming like mad in unbelievable pain or dying swiftly never knowing what had hit them. The Bloody Madonna had lead her own procession in which her followers had brought her victim after victim but now that she had reached her destination at the ocean of death she herself had created with a carnage wave seemed not so much like the ultimate transcendent goal but rather like the way.

Even as she had turned on her followers to enjoy a last short orgasmic rush of adrenaline that pumped through her veins like a sweet drug and she forced herself to enjoy it as much as possible because it would definitely be the last time she was able to it felt somehow hollow. Those were the last. And even as she ripped heads off, disconnected limbs from joins and severed lower bodies from upper ones, even as she ripped still beating hearts out of torsos and knocked through bodies with bare hands she knew it was over. This was the last time she could enjoy this glorious sensation, that she could do the one thing Apocalpyse had taken this piece of charcoal named Risky and had transformed it into the diamond of WAR.

And like Alexander The Great when he had reached the border of the world WAR knelt down at this miserable place and wept for there was nothing left to kill, nothing left to wage war on. Bitter tears ran down her beautiful blood stained face and dropped to the charred ground for no pain is greater than to realize you made yourself obsolete. Forked lightnings parted the violently rolling toxic clouds in the sky above her to add a fitting twitching light to the scene but still it held back its tears of rain as if to punish WAR for taking everything away. Or maybe it simply had no tears anymore after having to cry for years and years of death.

And that was when fate struck. Perhaps it was a side effect of her enhanced probability manipulation powers. Or perhaps the dying world not being able to bear the stench of billions of rotting corpses on its surface decided it would not bear this aberration who had cause this as well. The origin was unclear but the result was startling.

Uttering a long, desperate and at the same time passionate scream WAR was hurled through the barriers of reality itself. Broke them like she was used to break the sound barrier when flying. Tore the curtain that separated the universes from each other and fell. Deep.

Like a shooting star, like Lucifer after his rebellion WAR descended down from heaven through the clouds in a blazing ball of fire. Under her the city of Washington appeared unaware what was coming its way and still occupied with the monster that already rampaged through its innards. Soon the burden of the city would only double. A horrible image.

A massive explosion heralded the arrival of WAR in this layer of existence, annihilating an entire block. Cars, houses, white lawns and good people were vanquished in the firestorm   that her entrance caused. They would be the first. A small appetizer for the things to come, a slight idea of the never seen epic scale of genocide this reality was about to experience.

Far sight. The Queen of War stood upon a black pedestal that was set aloft in the air, overlooking tall buildings, and small houses. This world had never seen, nor had Malice sensed a presence such as this one. Even with the distance between the two creatures of entropy, a shudder of delight tickled her spine. She could feel it, the insatiable need this creature, this woman had for the very same thing she adored. To bring war to a world that had never truly tasted it, a buffet of death, destruction, and rage. Blood would spill on this day. Sending a soul toward the aura that emanated such hellish emotion, Malice could see that it was a woman, and she witnessed the sweet obliteration that surrounded her.  
 
Grinning from ear to ear, the Goddess of Death lifted Jo in front of her, ripping the sky into nothingness. Black swarmed the hole, and she stepped into it, revealing a world unto its own. Bass drumbeats filled the atmosphere. But there were no drums at all, they were the feet of marching souls, enternally damned to step in rhythmic patterns, until their wispy feet became nothingness. Bone and stripped flesh. Whales from such souls begged their goddess for mercy and she scoffed at them, sending them back in line, binding their essence in fire and golden chain. At the end of this journey was another ripped piece of nothing and she stepped through that. Coming out, the smell of smoke and smog filled her nose, burnt flesh and curdled blood came after. It was glorious.  
 
And there she stood, woman to woman. Creature of destruction in the presence of another. Would there be mutual disgust. Of course. Two soulless females such as them, would undoubtedly clash. And if they didn't, Malice would use her to her advantage. Already, she could feel the power, the maturity her hand had in taking lives. Driving Jo into the singed ground beside her, Malice stepped forward, cautious, as not to bring out any brutality, at least not yet. "What is your name? I've sensed you from miles away, I can taste your power. What is your name child."? She asked agitated. There was something about this woman, something that made Malice nervous. But she would never show it, she would never show weakness. 

No, it was not. But WAR would make it so. Recreate a kingdom of peacefulness by slaughtering everything that lived. Get rid of the flesh. The stupid, imperfect, impure, stinking, meat eating, environment polluting, pissing, shitting and farting flesh. Wheat out the weak so only the strong would survive and if she was the only strong being around…

So be it.

With pure hands would she create this new Eden free from flaws of life. Bare hands. Perfect hands. Hand that were everything this earth was not. How the brilliant enhanced muscles and sinews worked under her white skin whenever she flexed her hand. Like birds they had strength they were not supposed to have by the humble exterior. No one would have thought that she easily could bring reduce humans to a red pulp, lift trucks or bring down skyscrapers. But as so often the exterior betrayed the true power. They had underestimated her, Apocalypse’s little princess as they called her, in the old reality and they would underestimate her in this reality again. But she would teach them. Teach them in the language of blood, pain and death.

With surprise she noticed she still looked at her clenched right fist.

With the same hand she reached down and grabbed a hand of soil. Squeezed it hard. Felt how it ran through her finger, its texture, its moisture. Her hyperactive senses told her the exact amount of insects and other tiny animals that crawled over her skin now, trying to escape their crumbling little world. Her fingers made short work of their attempts and ended their insignificant little lives. Like she would end all those insignificant lives. She would slaughter, maim, kill, murder and slay till the only thing left on this planet were amoebae. And in this town where she had made her descent from heaven she would start. Time to find the first victim to die at her own hands.

And there she was.

And she was perfect. Hair like blood. Skin like milk. Beautiful. The body of a warrior and a seductress at the same time. Strong and proud she stood before her and scrutinized her from burning green eyes. Every inch of her slender, powerful body spoke of perfection. How her long red hair mesmerizingly blew in the air, how the wind brushed against her hairless alabaster skin. The classical master could not have envisioned her better. That was why she was worthy of being WAR’s first victim in this new world. This gorgeous creature deserved even more. After she had killed him the Bloody Madonna would make her the new standard of her bloody crusade. She would stick her on a spear and wave her in the blood wind before her to herald of her coming, use her to terrify the wretched inhabitants of this dirt ball.

WAR smiled a cruel smile.

In particular, this woman was different from anyone Malice had ever encountered on this plane of existence. She could feel it, down to her core. Warsman, the most powerful being she had met, paled in comparison to the new lady's resonating power. And it was delicious. Like honeysuckle, the smell of her abilities drifted through the air. And the malice in her heart, was unlike anyone's even Azraels. Perhaps Malice could convince her to join her, in her campaign to bring upon the end. It was very likely that this woman would pose a threat to her, but Malice was ready for her. Watching as she clutched a fistful of dirt, torn up from her own impact, one thing became apparent. This woman was not of this world. Everything about her, save her gorgeous physique was different. Still awaiting an answer, the Queen of War grew more impatient by the moment. She hated to be kept waiting, by anyone and everyone. It was a sign of disrespect. And no one, would disrespect her. Then a sign of movement, she stood. And for the first time, they saw eye to eye.  
 
Time seemed to slow between them. Their consistent leers created a static link between them, telling of both desire and intent. Leaves passed by between them like they were traveling through honey, it seemed as so anyway. And then everything set itself right. What came next should have been expected, after all, as she thought of before, two beings such as them could never co-exist in the same world. They would inevitably seek each other out in quests of purity and power. With blinding speed, Malice was met with two monstrously strong attacks. The first was a low kick, and then she was forced backward with a fist to her head. Such Strength. She thought to herself. But as a goddess, this was not life threatening, it was not even near it.  
 
Keeping her hand on Jo, Malice tumbled through the street, caving the pavement in beneath her tossed body. She stood up, and pulled her hair back, tying it into a bun, so that it would not interfere with her murder. The most sinister smile crept across her face, and she held Jo into the air. Driving it a foot into the ground, black energy seeped out of the multiple cracks the impalement made, and spread out in linear fashions toward the other goddessien figure. This was an attempt to drag her to the Underland. The black energy flailed like fire, creeping ever closer, they would circle her and envelop her in souls that would cling to her body, and alas a portal would open up beneath her as the final act of damnation. "I'd like to see what the those cretins will do to you...But I have other things to attend to." 

From beneath these black tentacles came and gripped her with incredible strength. From hell or from any other mythical place she could not tell. Her mind was too loaded with rage to comprehend or even care. Rage to see this magnificent creature flying like a leave in the autumn after her powerful strike and getting up again almost unharmed hwere mere mortals would have been red paste. Rage over the insolence of these dark tendrils to dare to touch her.

They wrapped around her spilling a smell of disgustingly sweet flowers and dispersing a comfortable yet unresting warmth. They spoke of a strange country of covered with happiness over a core of depravity. She detested it from the first moment it came into contact with her. This would be her next station after she had ripped all life from this dirtball. There she would slaughter fluffy little bunnies, cute deers and the corrupted things that preyed on those without difference. But first she would have to take care of those things grappling her.

They were everywhere over her body. Touching places any men would have lost a hand for. The anger in her rose even more. How could they? Mercilessly they pulled her towards that odd portal that swirled there with an almost hypnotic quality. It would have been easy for her to teleport out of their clutches but her insane mind wanted to punish them, bring them pain although she did not know if they were even able to feel it.

Liberating more of her strength reserves a bright red aura began to shine around her. Sizzling, hissing sounds came from the strange tentacles as they began to burn and were too deadest on their goal to let go. The sweet incense of the flowers was replaced by a stinging stench of burned tar. But that was only the introduction into her religion of pain. With all force she pulled.

WAR had strange new senses, such that the language of man had not found words for it yet. She could smell colours and see wavelengths that were not even discovered yet. And with those pointed ears of her she discovered a new sense now. She heard those tentacles scream. As she pulled and supernatural fibre after supernatural fibre was ripped apart in those strange beings from Wonderland they emitted a high pitched, ugly scream that reminded on fingernails on a blackboard. It was pitiable. Still WAR did not stop. She knew no pity.

With a loud snap the tentacles were severed. The black and red portal that had threatened to swallow her whole a moment ago closed. Screaming WAR hurled the pathetic shrivelled and burned remnants of her would be captors miles away. Time to concentrate on the main price again.

Her standard.

Arrogance. She turned away, fanning her hair around her as she took elegant strides away. It was over, and it was easy. Nothing, and no one would ever compare to her power, and she knew this to her core. Malice, was above all else, a prideful woman. And always, she let that trait of hers become her, and get in the way. The clicking of her heels against the pavement, combined with the struggles of the warring woman behind her. Her pitiful whines were music. And then, there was the sound of snapping twigs and vines, like, as if the woman had gotten free, but it was not possible. Nothing would deny her power, and yet. She did. 
 
Turning in a fit of frustrated anger, not yet raged, Malice, stamped forward back to the woman. "How dare you defy the will of a Goddess. I ban..." The last black energy chain withered away, the hands of the souls washed away by an aura, visible by even the blind. Things inside this woman had changed now. She was no longer another body to be slain, and pushed to the side, thoughtless fury had taken control. How could Malice know this. Warsman, when he tried to conquer this world had gone into this same fit of blind enmity. Azrael, when her family was killed by the Shadowland Shogun, had fallen into a seemingly never ending well of lustful murder. And her father, King Cobalt. Well...He had destroyed an entire plane of existence. So, that is how she knew. And knowing excited her.  
 
Malice stopped speaking, but started again, because her pride told her to do it. "What are you"? She spoke, in a firm, womanly tone. She took a step back, feeling the effects of the aura surrounding the War Woman. Instinct was also a very great percentage of how she operated. Sometimes, she would just maim because her will to do it was greater than her restraint. Fluttering in the wind, the dark hair of her opponent seemed to vanish within a millisecond. She could see it coming toward her, but she was not able to protect herself from it. A crushing blow to her abdomen. The Queen of War felt her insides rearrange three times before setting themselves right again. That blow was more powerful than the first, and now Mali realized something. The animal had changed. 
 
The attack, was powerful enough to cause her body to lift from the ground and crash into a home fifteen feet away. Her back broke through the porch's frame, and then glass, and then through the rooms and back of the house. Instantaneously collapsing, Malice was infuriated. She lifted Jo, and smashed it down upon the house, splitting the impact area into smithereens, and black energy seeped from the wounded material, and ate away at the house until it was nothing more than dust.  Running with her own blinding speed, Malice, jumped into the air, and crashed down upon the Earth, with a fist. She was approximately ten feet away now. The black top began to split and crumple underneath her mighty hand. As the pieces began to fall into the lower recesses of the sewer ways, Malice, jumped on each piece, attempting to confuse the enemy with speed matching the previous attack, and come from behind with a kick to her lumbar. 

Malice had flown a breathtakingly wonderful loop over WAR’s head and had crashed into her side with more than mach speed. Both women’s beautiful faces were distorted in pure hatred, pearly whites shown in an open display of aggression.

The force of that hit was enough to pulverize stone, making mere pebbles of once mighty mountains. Under the rolling black sky the echo of the broken sound barrier reverberated between the corpses of broken family homes. Inside the marvellous shell that housed the monster known as WAR nanites fixed broken tissue in unbelievable speed. Even the tiniest bone shards were brought back into their place by the eager microscopic machines and reassembled into the steel hard pelvis bone of the insanely strong woman. Blood pudding was reweaved into liver and kidneys to pump adrenaline through her arteries and veins again.

Sweet, sweet adrenaline. How it enhanced her in every thinkable and unthinkable way. Rushed through her veins and caressed her with its cool kiss like no lover could even hope to do. Tingling sensations that ran up and down her spine in a constant state of hyper activity. Incredible power in her hands. Hands that would kill millions… billions… endless streams of blood would flow from them.

Of course WAR was already far beyond such elaborate thoughts. The chaos in her head was without equal, her mind raced in a thousand directions and none at once. There was only this urge to kill covered by this red veil that covered her field of sight. She had already lost that tiny ship that her conscious thought was in that seemingly endless ocean of red long ago. The urge to murder was all that remained. And she would ease it in the only possible way.

The reaction time of a god was a definite plus. Who on Earth or anywhere else in this universe could have expected this was. Upon impact Malice felt the vibrations of cracking and obliterated bone. She heard the symphony of splitting and rupturing organs inside, and yet there was not a single wince. No yelps. No cries for mercy. She was dealing with a different demon now, recognizing the attribute as healing abilities, she knew that she would have to compensate for it. Compensate by being more powerful, more brutal, and more viscous. As the womans body contorted in unnatural ways, Malice ducked the first swing from the hand. Her body bent backwards into a bridge, but was bludgeoned by one swift knee pounding to her side. Swearing that she could feel the patella even before it hit was an understatement. Malice was pushed of balance by the attack, and tumbled to the left. Recovering fast though, she stood.   
 
Under no circumstances would she reveal that she was actually in pain; this caused her even greater pain. She squinted her blazing red angry eyes at the woman, leering at her from only feet away, right before she plunged Jo into the existing pavement. This time though instead of opening a portal to the Underland, she called upon only the fire that burned with intense darkness. Instantly a wall of flames erupted, separating the two women. It would give her time to recuperate and attack. Jo, now split into it's faster forms, two small blades, equally as deadly.  The black energy fire wall was more than just a barrier. It's blazing umbra dance lived on souls and strong negative emotions, like hate and rage. It would suck it out of anything that held those feelings, and currently two sentinels of such emotion stood on either side, but only one was level headed. It would draw on Malice the least, while it sapped energy from the other woman like a vampire drinking from a drunken wench.  
 
Having no reservations about the amount of damage she would be doing to the area, assuming the other woman didn't either, Malice needed space for what she was about to do. A circle of black energy surrounded her feet, and then shot up simultaneously in a column. Taking an a still agonizing step forward, she held her blades out to the side and they caught blackfire. It was almost like casting a spell, but there was no mere mortal magic at hand now. It was more of a creed, a will that would and must be done by the ones it would effect, handed down the one's they revered as their god. The column expanded in the blink of an eye obliterating the homes that stood in a five hundred foot radius. Giving her room to proceed. But first she had to heal, and a soul would do the trick calling upon one of the many that she ruled, it entered her body repairing the damage that was done, but not all the way. She was healed enough. 
 
Rising into the air, like a phoenix of enmity, Malice fused Jo back together. She stood upon a disk of black energy, and once she was high enough, plummet to the ground and cause what the equivalent to was a meteor striking the Earth. The firewall, still up, she could feel it eating away at her, so she had to do it quickly. There was no telling of what it would do to her opponent, but if she thought it was going to be easy, Malice would show her was a real goddess would do. 

There she stood this perfect marble statue that WAR wanted to break into pieces and mocked her. No matter what she did, how much she maltreated this beautiful image, she would always return back to normal and more importantly come back to her. WAR was full of wild, abnormal love and burning frustration at the same time. One the one hand she could not brake her, on the other hand she could break her in a never ending cacophony of destruction, the sweet song of broken bones, ripped tendons and squished organs. All the joy of the making while the sweet goal of finishing was always away from her.

The red grew thicker.

And thicker.

And thicker.

It whipped her to new heights, kindled new fires in her alien organs, enabled her to achieve more than any other being but the wonderful and at the same time cruel goddess before could ever hope to do. She was a machine built for slaughter and she had just switched into the next gear. More than simply bionic fibres, the fibres of the Celestials crafted by the master hands of Apocalypse in the complex arcane machinery of Horus, worked as she stretched her hand out like an addicted. And yes, addicted she was. Addicted to the taste of blood. Addicted to the sound of agony. Addicted to the feeling of rent flesh. Addicted to the smell of fear. Addicted to the sight of carnage. Addicted to all the beautiful expressions of death her strange senses could perceive.

But then suddenly her goals was separated from her. Rudely torn from her sight, ripped from her nearing grip, even barred from her other senses by a strange black fire that now danced hypnotically mocking before her. With a roar that told more of frustration than actual pain and that let the last shards of glass in broken cars and houses vibrate WAR withdrew her hand.

The fire was cold.

Like a greedy creature it pulled the warmth from her and something… different. At this point WAR might not have been more than a rabid animal but even a rabid animal has enough sense to back down from the all devouring, omnivorous power of the old bane fire.

The sound tormenting her sensible hearing organs should have been a warning but she was to busy with herself. Soldiers in WW2 had learned to respect the dreaded German Stuka and the characteristic sound it made. For a reason. The same sound that Malice produced as eh dropped from the sky like bomb.

With unbelievable power she came slamming down. WAR only felt the pressure wave a second before it hit her and send her flying through several houses.

The world was a chaos. A colourful tumult. As it turned around her while she flew through the air contorting like a ragdoll it lost the little rest of coherence it had remained for her. She felt limbs breaking and realigning while she flew, organs resorting. It all came to a sudden stop when she crashed into a car. Broken glass, bent metal, burned rubber had suddenly became her world. A real soldier uses his or her environment against an enemy. And she would use it.

With a bestial scream she hurled the car at her more than worthy opponent. It was almost like following her own image in a mirror. The silvery sparkling car reflected the red and black sky in fantastic patterns as it whirled around in an ever spinning motion. And then, the precious moment before it hit the red haired beauty WAR fired an energy blast at the gas tank.

From one moment to the next the car transformed into a giant fireball that greedily raced at Malice to caress her with its fiery and destructive embrace.

The Queen of War reached up, showing of her blood spotted hand to the sky. Clutching at the loose debris she pulled herself up, gasping for breath. Murky water had begun to pour in from pipes that had broken from the cataclysmic descent. It stunk of raw sewage and gas. Small fires had lit from the massive inertia, and from behind her more earth was crumbling into the crater. She slowly began to make her way up from the bottom, because she was hurt. Something had gone wrong when she fell, the most minute flaw in her landing had caused her left Achilles tendon to snap, and the same shin bone to break. Amidst the carnage that she created, there was internal pain.  
 
The horizon of the crater glowed an intense orange red, and Malice placed her hand on it, pulling herself up. Vulnerable right now, she analyzed her surrounding making sure that the other was nowhere she could take advantage of such weakness. She was angry at herself, but as she so masterfully did throughout her life, she deflected responsibility for her actions and bestowed her shortcomings onto the people that she saw as pawn. And everyone was a pawns. She limped forward, waiting on her body to heal and thought of what else could she do in order to break the seemingly invincible twig.  
 
A witch's howl echoed throughout. The announcement of triumph, saying "I have not been beaten". Malice was halfheartedly happy, although she preferred for this to be over already, there was nothing like a true test of skill to set your mind right. A ball of fire came hurling in towards her, and it was easy enough to avoid, even with her almost healed wound. But as it depleted the ground on contact concrete volleyed in a radial fashion, and Malice was hit in the face with a jagged boulder. Ripping a chunk of her flesh from her cheek. Her screams of wretched hurt, were not from pain, but for vanity's sake. Being the vain goddess she was, beauty, her beauty was prized just below power. That serene battle ax would pay dearly. 
 
A black energy disk appeared from nowhere beneath her healed feet. Bringing her up into the air, Mali looked on at the complete scene of chaotic upheaval. Both bodies of power had dealt wonderful damage to this city. Entire buildings were toppled from bare hands. She spotted the one she would call her counterpart, and black energy surrounded her hand. She swiped it through the air, and spawned three separate elongated tendrils of Underland fire. They drove through atmosphere down at the other.  
 
Her goddessian ears clicked, as she heard the rapid beating of air. Soaring high and fast, Malice witnessed a gallery of man made instruments of war. Jets and Helicopters hovered over the them both, given the warning to destroy the causes of destruction. It was as if they did not know what they both could do. Sending such trifle was like leading lambs to the slaughter, and so Malice would oblige their need to die. Raising Jo into the air, the air began to rile and it whistled between the slits in the blade. A beckoning to Draak, her dragon, who would be more than enough to take them out. He appeared like a valiant warrior does from the shroud of cloudy mist. His breath of fire set ablaze the trinkets, and set the sky on light show.