Usual copyright statement goes here. You know what they are J Wish I was making money off this, but I ain't.

Good news! Now that summer is on, that means more chapters! No more waiting for two months for a chapter. But if you feel like you still need to give me a kick in the butt with the updates, I can give you two places to send it: watercentaur@mail.com OR homeworkonfire@hotmail.com.

Chapter 16: Flayer Poison

"Kail! Whoa, WHOA!"

Moran skidded on the mossy bamboo bridge and grabbed on a fellow Kurastian to catch her balance. The woman gave her a look of utter loathing as she ran up to Kail. "Kail! What's going on? I don't understand – Diablo – "

"No time to loose," he said, turning to her. She took a step back in astonishment. His eyes were the angriest she had ever seen. The darkly lined slanted green eyes were blazing with fire and revelation.

She was glad his anger wasn't aim at her.

"I'll explain as we go along," he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Go get prepared. We're heading out for the Kurast jungles."

"And where are you going?"

"To get myself dressed as well," he looked out. "And to go talk to our resident Assassin, Natalya."

Moran slid her hands into the fingerless leather gauntlets, flexing her hands a few times to get rid of the tight feeling. She bent down and laced her short boots, tucking the edges of her black pants into the leather.

Turning, she looked at herself in the full-length dusty mirror. She didn't remember the last time she had looked at herself clearly into a mirror, and what she saw surprised her.

Her hair had grown longer over the time she had been in this strange world, growing past her hips. Not only was it longer, but it was rather shaggy as well. She turned her body, looking at her naked torso. She had developed scars – quite more than she realized, and not all of them pretty or tough looking. The one on her arm from the Spear Cat's spear had grown into a rather frightening pattern of permanent stitches. There was a long white streak on the side of her neck and another one across her torso, starting from her left shoulder blade, down her chest, between her breasts, and to her stomach.

Even her facial expression had changed – she had acquired a more serious, older look. Like Kail, her brown eyes had a burning ember in them that was ready to burst into fire any moment she became angry.

Was this how Moranah looked like?

She dropped down on her bed, rubbing her forehead with her hands. Was she just a substitute for Kail, a substitute for the woman he once loved?

Stop it. You don't even love him.

"AH!" She stood up and slammed her fist into the bamboo wall. A fist sized hole appeared and a thin stream of silver light flooded in, light from a rain-soaked sun.

She clutched at her head and hair, forcing down the sob that was trying to flee from her tight throat. She was in pure torture.

"Moran?"

She gasped and stuck out her foot to block anyone from opening the door. "What?" Her voice cracked.

"Moran, are you all right?" It was Kail. She felt pressure as he tried to open the door. "What's with the wall?"

"N-Nothing," she said. "Don't come in, I'm not dressed."

"What's taking you so long?" He said. "Come on."

She reached for the thin, but protective shirt that kept her skin from chaffing from the armor. "Yeah." She slid into the breastplate and reached for her staff, the new one that she had found in Tal Rasha's chamber.

She threw open the door, panting from her rush. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Don't be in too much of a haste," Kail said. "Turn around. Going into battle with your armor not put on correctly is nearly as dangerous as going in unprotected."

"Oh," she turned and pulled her braid out in front.

She felt his fingers brush the back of her neck slightly and shivered from his calluses. She felt him lacing the tough laces at the back of the breastplate, securing the piece of armor to her skin.

"Done," he gave her neck a reassuring squeeze.

She stepped forward in surprise. "Ah…thank you."

She kept her face down the entire time as they walked out to the bridge that led out to the jungle.

"Wait here," Kail said. "Natalya's coming."

Moran looked out into the murky water. "Kail…"

"What?" He looked distracted as he looked out to the dark jungles.

"Uh…what is it about the figure in the cloak – the Dark Wanderer, did you say?"

He faced her, his eyes steady and focused again. "The man you met in the jungle was Diablo, traveling to the ancient temples of Kurast where he will reunite with his brother – Mephisto. If we manage to kill Diablo in time before he reaches Mephisto – it'll save us a damn lot of trouble."

"But the time we've wasted! Diablo's probably with his brother by now – "

"No," Kail said. "Diablo – or should we say the Dark Wanderer, is still very weak. He's transforming from his humanoid form to monster – yet for it to be completed, he must reunite with his three brothers, Mephisto and Baal."

"And if we're late?" Moran rubbed her arms.

"If we don't kill Diablo…I reckon we have to travel to the Sanctuary between Earth, Heaven, and Hell and kill him there. It's not beautiful there, that's all I'm telling you. And to kill Diablo in his true form – "

He stopped. "Natayla," he said in form greeting.

Moran's eyes widen. The Assassin was dressed in the strangest armor she had ever seen in her time in this world. It covered her from her neck down to the very tips of her toes, and looked as if – as if the armor was made entirely out of moving mercury. It moved like fluid, and looked like fluid.

And if Natalya was carrying any weapons, she did a very good of hiding it from view.

"Horses?" Moran could only say when she looked at the three magnificent creatures Natalya was holding. They too, were clad in the same silver, fluid-like armor around their large heads, chests, and knees.

"If we're going to catch Diablo fast and quick, we have to use these beasts," she said. "These are pure-bred war stallions, the finest in Kurast."

"I usually wouldn't bring these horses out for nothing less than a surprise siege directly on Kurast," Natalya said. "But under the circumstances…treat them well, and do your best to protect their lives."

Feeling almost guilty, Moran took the reins of the large black stallion Natalya handed to her. Kail took the white one, and Natalya mounted her own silver dappled equine.

"You must know," the Assassin said. "I'm not coming you after you leave Kurast. For that you must pay a price greater than your life."

"I know," Kail said. "I understand. I only ask for you to come with us because the townsfolk of Kurast needs you too find the Blade of the Old Religion…under the circumstances, Moran and I can't do it. We're grateful that you're even coming with us for a short way to fight."

"Blade of the Old Religion?" Moran whispered to Kail.

"Later," he said, keeping his eyes on Natalya with a respectful gaze. "You're free to leave anytime, Head Assassin."

"I'll leave when I know I can," she gave her horse a slight nudge with her heels. "I'll lead the way."

"Lag behind a bit," Kail said as Moran's horse broke into a fast trot. She sank back on her bottom and the horse slowed down.

"So what's this?" Was all she could as him.

"Weapons out, just in case," he warned.

"I can't exactly fight on horseback with a staff," she hissed back. "I'm already having trouble holding this thing when I'm riding – "

Silently, Kail took her staff from her hands and strapped it to the saddle faster than she could even jerk her weapon back. "It'll come free with a slight pull," he said.

"And these horses are trained to respond to your heels," he said. "So your hands are free to use for fighting."

"Kail, tell me. What's all this?"

"I'll start from the beginning," he said. "You noticed how the Kurast Docks are unaffected by the surrounding demons and creatures? You notice how not even a Flayer can even blow a dart into the homes of the people?"

Moran shrugged. "Don't the Iron Wolves keep them at bay?"

"No," he said. "Ormus and Rhatli's been working on an enchantment that keeps the demons away, but lately, it's been fading away…fading away to a point that if it becomes any thinner, the demons are going to be able to sneak in when we're not looking."

"There's a blade in forest, a Ghidbin, they call it," Kail said, walking his horse around a pit. "It's an ancient blade, and according Rhatli and Ormus, it will be able to build up a permanent protective shield around the Kurast Docks."

"With the others sick and…dying," Kail continued. "We don't have time to get it, but Kurast needs us. Since Natalya's a residential Kurastian, I asked her to come along with us to get the blade – well, mainly we need her help to fight, but she's an Assassin. And like an Assassin, she doesn't kill without a price, and she doesn't help with a price. But with Kurast needing the Ghidbin, and we having no time to spare to get it – she needs to come without a choice."

"She seems so – " Moran looked at Natalya on her a horse, about a hundred feet away.

"Assassins are like that," Kail said. "If they weren't so secretive in their order or keeping to themselves, Natalya would be welcomed to join the Five to defeat Diablo."

"Have you asked her to join us?"

"Even Tyrael himself wouldn't ask an Assassin a favor like that," Kail said. "Natalya has a good heart – but like most Assassins, they make their own choices on what they want to do and what they don't."

"And is her fighting – "

She had no time to finish her sentence. The stallion beneath her bolted and she nearly lost her balance. After catching herself and balancing, she looked behind her shoulder.

A dozen of the strangest creatures she had ever seen were chasing after them – and they were fast. Looking like a cross between a Gila monster, a jackal, and a frog the size of a horse – no wonder the horses bolted.

"They're gaining, Kail!" She shouted. "Ah – "

She managed to duck in time as one of the animals leapt for her. It sailed over her horse's head and landed in front of them, hissing madly.

Natalya was coming towards them, bending over her horse to defend against the wind. She kicked away her stirrups and rolled, standing up on her feet. The beasts surrounded her.

"Natalya!" Moran shouted and reached for her staff. She felt Kail's hand on hers before she could wrap her finger around the shaft.

"She can do it," Kail said.

Natalya reared back with a battle cry, and gave a large hook kick towards the nearest creature that any black belt ninjitsu practitioner would be embarrass to compare his best techniques with. But what enthralled her was that the kick exploded into shards of sharp embers that pierced and nearly killed the creatures.

A purplish-blue light illuminated her right hand, forming a shape of a dozen sharp daggers in which she threw in one swift throw, pining the beasts down. There was only one left standing.

"That's a boss," Kail said.

Natalya circled in the beast, never leaving her eyes off it. The boss creature, too, gave her all its attention. Slime dripped from its fangs that hissed and spurted fire once it touched the mossy ground.

Natalya crossed her hands in front of her face, clenching her fists. A blue light illuminated her fingers, forming the shapes of deadly claws. The blue light winked away, and what was left on her hands was a pair of sharp, glistening wrist blades.

Moran gasped as fire emitted from the wrist blades as it came in contact with the creature's skin. A glistening ball of fire appeared, circling the Assassin like a protective guardian.

Another strike! Another fireball! Another one!

Moran gasped as fire filled her vision and inferno exploded from the Assassin's blades. The beast recoiled once, and fell dead to the ground, burnt and blackened.

"Yowza!" Was all she could manage to gasp from her tight throat to Kail. "Are you sure she won't join us?"

"Come on, we're losing time," Natalya clenched her fists together and the blades melted into her liquid armor. She mounted her horse with one swift vault. "Quick. Even I can sense that Diablo is nearing his brother."

"Faster!"

"You're going to kill the horses if we go any faster!" Moran shouted in between pants as she bent down close to the shiny black neck of the horse. She regretted wearing her fingerless gloves as she felt the blisters on her fingers from the reins. Sweat dribbled down her face.

"Natalya, I'm sure we still have time – "

"No we don't," the Assassin slowed her horse down to a trot and faced them. She slid off and landed on all fours. She touched the dirt and brought it to her nose.

"We're in the Flayers territory," she said.

"How can you tell from the soil?" Moran asked.

"Any ground in which Flayers breed and lives smells of blood," Natalya said, standing up. "This is where I'll leave you, Heroes. You don't need me to go with you. I'll cast a cloak of shadow over both of you which will last for over an hour."

Kail nodded.

Natayla raised her hand high above her head to cast her spell.

"AH!" She cried in pain and clutched her wrist. "Damn it!"

A small dart from a blowpipe had shot through her hand.

"No!" Moran cried, her horse rearing as a flock of Flayers surrounded her and her horse.

"Moran, hang on!" Kail sounded so scared she felt panic rise up to its full limit in her heart. The ground fell down below her as the horse she rode reared to its fullest extent. She held on for a fleeting second, and then when the horse stumbled backwards, she lost her stirrups and struck the ground.

The impact left her gasping for a breath of air, for what seem liked hours. As the smallest of oxygen managed to squeeze into her tight lungs, she leapt up before a Flayer could go for her head with its sharp little spear.

"Moran!" Kail shouted from his horse, but he was in no better situation. About a dozen Flayers had surrounded his horse as well, but he managed to stay on the saddle.

"Sorceress!" She heard Natayla shout. "Take this!"

From her uninjured hand, Natayla threw her something that flashed in the dim light that the jungle allowed to be filtered through. Moran caught it, and found it to be a small silver ball.

"Throw it! Throw it! Throw, throw, throw!"

Moran threw it at the Flayers, aiming for the fattest one. It struck the beast's little belly –

And exploded in a net of lightning.

She threw her hands up to her face to protect it from the sparks that flew off the burned Flayers meat. Running half blinded, she found her horse and tore her staff from the saddle.

She fell on one knee just in time to hold the bladed part of her staff out to catch four Slayers running towards her. The blade on the bottom of her staff was so sharp that it split the little beasts right in two.

"Ugh!" She cried out, fending off a Flayer that managed to crawl up her staff. She shot it off with a bolt of ice and it froze in mid air for a moment before she struck it down with a swing from her staff.

There was too many of them! She cried out in pain as something lashed against her neck. She pulled out a blowpipe. In pure anger, she flung it away.

"I can't – do this – " She shouted.

Her vision blurred. A sharp, tingling pain ran from her neck up to her brain.

The dart. Poison.

She used her staff to balance as she clutched her forehead with the other hand.

The Flayers had stopped attacking her and she saw one of them holding a thick coil of rope.

"Get away!" She half-heartedly swung her staff at it, but only succeeded in making herself lost the last ounce of balance she had. She fell on her hip, still trying to balance on her staff.

Black dots danced around her eyes.

She fell on her cheek on the mossy ground, and her hand hit something hard. Using the last ounce of strength, she wrapped her hands around it and found it to be cold, sharp, and small, reminding her of a Swiss pocketknife. With extreme care in the state she was in, she slid whatever it was into her boot before her vision turned black and her head crashed on the leaves.

Moran raised her head and opened her eyes. She looked down.

And screamed.

She wasn't a person that was afraid of heights. It didn't bother at all. Usually.

But being chained and suspended to a ceiling. that was dripping water on her about 50 feet above a black pit filled with razor sharp spikes that was ready to split into her stomach if she failed.

Her wrists and legs both had heavy iron cuffs on them, and two chains attached to each of the iron bands were firmly pounded and hammered onto the stone ceiling. And surrounding her was a cylinder of a stonewall, with big, burning torches. And down below her were her death, rows and rows of razor spikes. There was a door about twenty feet below her with a small platform jutting out from it.

She twisted her wrists, trying to get the blood flowing again, but couldn't. Sweat dripped off her nose and she watched the crystal-like drops fall down to the spikes.

"Oh god, no!" She shouted as she felt her body lurch down and the chain around her left ankle snap like a thread.