Okay-first of all I'm sorry I haven't updated since October but I've had computer problems, exams, and various college problems and family issues. Second I looked over my earlier stories and I think they could be better which is where this story comes in: hunting for Trigon yet again because in the scheme of things I really don't think he's dead. I own Meddler, Herald of Chaos owns Koryan Feinde, and

Meddler awoke without pain and absolutely no idea where in the Multiverse he was. This worried him because A) he didn't smell brimstone so this meant he wasn't in the hot place, B) he did not here a choir of angels so he wasn't in the good place(no real surprise there), so the only option left was C) a divine being wanted to play games with him. He finally opened his eyes (brown by the way) to look into the face of a skull. There was about fives seconds of silence before he said, "Oh Hell, I'm dead and you're here to take me to the really hot place."

INTERESTINGLY ENOUGH YOU ARE NOT DEAD AND I AM SIMPLY HERE BECAUSE YOU WOULD BE DEAD IF I HAD NOT BEEN FORCED TO INTERVENE. Death said in a voice that completely bypassed the ears and went straight to the part of your brain marked 'primal terror.' Meddler attempted to wrap his head around this as Death gestured to someone he couldn't see. He instantly categorized his gear-about a dozen knives hidden on various parts of his body, his enchanted clothing designed to block small arms fire and look like anything he desired, his ability to move through dimensions, and his wits. Offhand I'd say I'm going to wish I was in the worst ventilated spot in the hot place with imps pounding my head.

"Believe me Meddler, Hell is not something you should take lightly," said an elderly woman in white robes. Her face was shrouded and she looked at the young man currently appearing dressed in what she recognized as modified ninja clothing. His brown hair was cut low, and aside from a small scar below his right eye his face was so average she knew she would never recognize him in the smallest crowd.

"I am Azar, and I desire you to completely and utterly remove Trigon the Terrible from existence." Meddler stared at her and finally he started laughing. Death looked at him and without ever changing his/its expression indicated that he/it thought Meddler was mad.

"You want me, a smuggler, thief, and currently a dead man if skinny over there hadn't intervened, to destroy the living embodiment of evil. Azar, you must have me mistaken for a great virtuous warrior which suggests that you should really seek a new optometrist."

"One of these days your sense of humor is going to get you killed," Azar paused for a moment and then continued, "Get you killed again anyway. Regardless-I will grant you your life back as the first part of your payment for you to use your various criminal contacts to remove Trigon from existence for the rest of eternity. My mystic powers have shown me that the people you choose, while dishonorable and psychotic, have the best chance of defeating that accursed demon."

"Before I agree to slightly less then certain death, what is part two of my payment?"

"I will tell you the location of the greatest treasure in the Multiverse-the Scrolls of Tal'in." Meddler stared at her in genuine awe: the Scrolls of Tal'in recorded the knowledge of the only race to every completely the contradictory laws of the chaotic and ever-changing Multiverse. With those he could get enough money to buy his own dimension.

"One demon slayer ready to kill Trigon at your service," Meddler said, snapping a sarcastic salute. Azar nodded and then everything went black in Meddler's eyes…

…and he awoke again with the biggest god-awful headache he had ever felt in his eighteen years of life. The fact he awoke in an open grave with an under taker who promptly fainted showed that Death did indeed have a sense of humor. I'll need the most dangerous people in the Multiverse, and who better than the woman who killed me?

Next chapter-Koryan Feinde