Lmao, so I need to speed up. I didn't get as far as I wanted on the Slayer section, but I have it split into two sections anyways, so hopefully I only have two chapters with him moping around and feeling bad for himself. Also for all you thinking Nurse throwing a tantrum = her betraying Arms Dealer, nah fam. She just throwing a tantrum because she's throwing a tantrum.

Armour: Broken Victide Armour (Ranger)

Weapon: Mandible Bow (Jester Arrows); Arkhalis

Acc(11/11): Band of Regeneration, Amidas Spark, Sailfish Boots, Luxor's Gift, Ocean Crest, Amidas Pendant, Crown Jewel, Tsunami in a Bottle, Frog Leg, Aero Stone, Shield of the Ocean

Health: (15/400)

*Ka-chik… BAN-*

...

Just as he heard the second round of buckshot pierce his outer layer of armor, he vanished into the depths of the teleporting mirror. Everything went black. Everything went dead. For a short moment, The Slayer wondered if he had really died for good this time. Alas, his short life was not to end in such an unceremonious matter - shot to death in an ambush, without even knowing why he was being killed. Yet in retrospect, he wasn't sure if he should have been thankful for having escaped that quick and relatively painless death, for his trials in The Crimson were far more arduous than he could have imagined.

…!

He gasped back to life as he reappeared over… wherever this place was, instinctively sucking in a deep breath only to begin coughing and gagging on the pungent stink. Adrenaline punched him in the brain as his eyes fluttered open and began rolling wildly about his skull. His nerves were aflame, jolting to attention and assaulting him with a wave of nearly unbearable pain. Everything hurt, and worse the pit of terror in his gut. Where was he? What had happened to him? Would he live? Would he die? Terrified, he stared about, only to be met with an impenetrable and inky darkness.

Ugh… haaak…

He couldn't see; he couldn't breathe. The stink was so overwhelming it was affecting him bodily, causing his mind to swim in a most sickening fashion. He felt as if he'd been scoured from the top of his head, to the soles of his feet. In his whole body, there wasn't a spot that didn't ache and scream at him, and had his tongue still been attached, he might have screamed as well. He slumped out of the air and crumpled inwards, falling like a ragdoll to his knees, then flat on his stomach as his stump-leg's open wound would not tolerate his weight. He could feel fluid pumping from his severed arm, pulsing out his lifeblood to the beat of his heart.

Ah, he was… beginning to feel strangely cold. Time was short. With a groan he sat up and summoned a torch in his remaining hand to despairingly ascertain his situation.

Where… this place...

The circle of torchlight was not large, but perhaps that was a mercy. Something told The Terrarian he was seeing just the beginnings of the horrors this strange land had to offer him. The only grass he had ever known were the lush emerald blades that carpeted his compound and the surrounding forested area. What aberration was this? This cursed ground was splattered in fleshy tentacular outgrowths that seemed to sway and undulate like a mat of cilia. Vicious thorny plants jutted forth in a brazingly threatening manner, and from their serrated spines, a lurid yellow pus oozed. Was this…

Crimson.

This stench… It was 'Crimson'. The Original Merchant was carrying this stink on him when he collapsed on The Compound's doorstep to die. Had he been fleeing this place? If so, the creatures that inflicted the grievous wounds that eventually killed him we're surely roaming the night. This place. It was dangerous. The Terrarian needed shelter immediately… but could he build in this state? He could barely crawl about, much less rouse himself to construct anything. He grimaced and, muscles trembling with the effort, twisted about and held out the torch, desperately searching for something, anything that would help him survive the night.

…!

As he gazed over the swaying, pulsing grass, he noticed a strange pattern imprinted in the earth. Several concentric circles with runes inscribed within them were stamped deep into the ground, and something told The Terrarian they were not drawn by human hands. How strange that he had appeared in the centre of such an ominous set of markings, but alas, now was not the time to ponder on such things. He was far more interested in survival. He continued to pan around until he found something much more exciting.

Leg!

His leg. It was laying several feet away, badly burnt and halfway buried in a thornbush. It was twitching and trembling, clearly alive, yet when The Terrarian dragged himself towards it and grabbed it by the ankle, he could feel it squirming against his grip as if it were a separate living being. Something about this disgusted him, but he had time to be upset about it later. He could already hear a shuffling in the distance. Somehow, the very land had become aware of him. The Terrarian pinned down his severed leg (which was currently attempting to worm back into the bushes) and once again raised his torch to peer into the darkness.

…?

This place… it was a village, or at least, the remains of one. Derelict, crumbling beams jutted out of the flesh covered ground, poking out of the landscape like thorns and sores. There was shattered pottery and glass scattered over the dirt, and The Terrarian guessed there was much more debris beneath the carpet of pulpy earth. This place… was it The Guide's village? Possibly?

Why… why had he appeared at the centre of a strange inscription, in the middle of The Guide's recently destroyed village? Hadn't The Guide at one time mourned the deaths of everyone in his village? His 'spawn point' was supposed to be the place he called home, was it not? Yet The Terrarian was quite certain he had never been here before. How utterly sinister. What significance did this place hold to him?

*shff… shff.*

He shelved his thoughts as the shuffling grew closer. Thorns were being torn aside, snapping underfoot and he could hear groans and screeches ringing out from different directions. Several monsters must have been alerted to his presence, and in his current state, he could do nothing to fight them off. He could only crawl away and hide like a pathetic worm. For a brief moment, he wondered if it was worth laying his pride bare and locking himself away, quivering and useless in some derelict building surrounded by monsters… but quickly shook the thought away. He would live. The Guide was waiting for him back at The Compound. With a grimace, The Terrarian tore off his helmet, discarded it, and - with his teeth - seized his own thrashing leg - by the edge of it's bitter armour.

Then, he began to crawl, dragging himself with his face in dust.

The closest structurally sound building was straight ahead. It was a large edifice composed of wood and stone, and he could see a great amount of deteriorating books scattered within. He set his goal there, he would crawl within, board himself up, and pray his leg would re-attach, and his missing arm re-grow.

So, with eyes set stubbornly upon that crumbling structure, the once proud 'Slayer' watered the crimson ground with tears of shame.

"If not fer that little shit, the plan would've been perfect. The Monster Knight would be dead, and we'd be on our way north to The Resistance already!"

The Demolitionist was fuming. Unlike the rest of these ambitionless idiots, he had responsibilities to attend to. His people were in the midst of an active war, and they needed supplies. As a high ranking officer in the engineering corps, it was his responsibility to ensure The Resistance troops were fed and watered. He didn't have time sit in this stupid little prison and play patty cake.

The Dwarf officer was quite red in the face as he paced about and berated each of his companions in turn.

"Dealer! You said you were gonna take care of this, didn't you? You had a single responsibility. Just one thing to do, and ya screwed it up. The Monster Knight was mostly dead after my bomb. All you needed to do was shoot straight, but ya couldn't even do that! Best gunsmith in the North, you say?! Tch!"

"..."

The Arms Dealer's face was stony as he stared at the tabletop. The Three of them were in The Guide's kitchen, discussing how to deal with their current unenviable situation. Well, it was less of a discussion, and more of a shakedown; The Demolitionist was doing most of the shaking down.

"And You!" The Dwarf Officer turned on The Old Merchant. The Old man's face was set like flint, but he wouldn't meet The Demolitionist's eyes.

"Your job was to keep The Guide uninvolved. So why was he able to run across the field and interfere? Both of ya managed to screw this up - and now we're in some deep shit, lads."

The room was silent as death as The Demolitionist paced a circle about the table where the three men were seated. The Merchant and The Arms Dealer followed him with their eyes. The houseowner - and the agent who threw their entire operation into disarray - was strapped to a chair and slumped over unconscious, drooling in his kitchen table. The Dealer had knocked him out cold with a swift punch to the temple, and he had been asleep for the better part of the hour.

The Demolitionist glared at the man and gritted his teeth. He had been foolish. Both The Merchant and The Arms Dealer had proven unreliable, and as a result, all three of them were now in grave danger. The Monster Knight had 'recalled' to an undisclosed location, and if The Arms Dealer was to be believed, he was capable of recovering from any manner of injury in a matter of days. Surely The Knight would be back to slaughter them all in retaliation. When he came, would they be able to fight them off? He had survived a direct blast from Big Betty. How could any of them face him in battle?

"Tch..."

To make matters worse, if The Monster Knight didn't return, they were similarity doomed. The Arms Dealer had tested the boundaries shortly after The Knight had vanished, and reported the borders were still as strong as ever. They would not fall until The Monster Knight was slain… and The Crimson was still coming.

Thus, they had only two remedies. One was to negotiate through The Guide, to somehow bargain with him to make The Monster Knight let them go free (unlikely, as The Guide and The Monster Knight were surely Yharim's agents). The Second was to Kill The Monster Knight for good. The Demolitionist paced back and forth behind The Guide's unconscious form as he pondered this. He barked his questions aloud.

"Do any of ya know where The Monster Knight disappeared to? Perhaps it will simply die on its own? Get attacked by Monsters? Bleed out?"

As expected, both looked at each other and shrugged. Neither of them knew anything, but both indicated towards The Guide. All three of them were well aware The Guide commanded 'his Slayer' and had planned it's escape. He was a member of an enemy faction, and The Demolitionist had detained him as a prisoner of war. The Dwarf officer would personally torture him for answers once he woke up.

Tch, useless trash…

The Demolitionist raised his head to give orders. His two companions straightened to attention.

"Dealer, get on the border - I want you to monitor it. The Monster Knight's injuries were bad. It could possibly be dying right now. If it gets eaten by zombies, then the border will come down. I want you to report to us immediately."

"Merchant, watch this bastard," The Demolitionist kicked at The Guide's chair, and elicited a groan out of the unconscious man, "and don't let him go anywhere. I need to consult with The Sea King."

(GUYS IM LOW ON SKITS)

NOTES: Okay so a bit obscure, I don't really recall what chapter this was from, but At one point the Demolitionist is saying he doesn't really believe the Merchant's story about The Guide being some sorcerer etc... He just thinks he was chased to this place, under Yharim's orders (recall he was chased by Yharim's spy who didn't enter the border) and being held prisioner here. This is the reason why he doesn't think its worth negotiating with The Guide. Also RIP Slayer's leg trying to crawl away... (severed limbs are alive, huh? I wonder if that could be significant) hehe.

k. thanks for all your reviews guys. I love you all. big kiss.