The Hunter was in control and the tanarukks knew the odds had changed. They began to run, but the Hunter chased them down, driving his nasty scimitar into the bases of their skulls, one of their few weak spots the armor did not protect against. They were fools to not wear helmets. When the first twenty went down, the Hunter did not care and turned to face the reinforcements. These new arrivals had witnessed the battle and noted the dark elf presence. When they had gotten close enough, they held their torches high.

The Hunter leapt at the new threat, ignoring the streaks of blue that knocked a few of the demon orcs flat on their backs. At the very moment the Hunter leapt into the air to strike, the tanarukks activated their innate magical power, forcing the torch light into sudden brightness as dazzling as the sun. The Hunter, blinded, screamed and fell backwards. The orcs were on him in an instant and only the bursts of blue energy prevented them from chopping the dark elf to pieces.

"Keep them off him!" Truth be told, Riley knew he didn't even have to command it. Team 3 was the best performing team of the Initiative. They knew their job and they did it well. When Drizzt had cleared out the first group, they drove off the back stabbers and let him take care of himself. He had saved them from a flanking and they weren't about to let him fall. They had zapped enough so the orcs were falling back to the next terrace where they could have cover. These bastards were smart. Soon one poked its head out and an arrow went flying past Graham's head.

"I hate orcs," the soldier bemoaned. Retaliating, he fired back, but the orc was already gone. "Shit."

"We're in a stalemate. Where the hell are 4 and 5, they were supposed to be our back up," Riley was not going to be pleased. He watched as Drizzt pulled himself out of the pile of orc bodies. Good kid.

The Hunter was not happy. The enemies were out of sight, but not gone. Suddenly, his keen elven ears picked up the twang of a bow. With a simple flick of the wrist and scimitar, the Hunter deflected the arrow so it impacted on the hard stone behind him instead of the soldiers on the next level. From the other side he heard two more. He spun, collecting both arrows in the torch in his other hand. It was no longer lit, but it served its other purpose. He paused a minute and listened. There were many of them, at least forty. But he heard something else and the Hunter smiled. His old friend was returning.

The roar of a great cat echoed from below. And then a second cat roared. The Hunter was confused as his friend was only one cat, not two. As the two came into sight, the Hunter understood that his friend had found help in a strange human who fought like a cat.

The girl arched her back and hissed at the demon orcs. The tanarukks were confused by the display. One tossed an axe at the redheaded girl and howled in terror as the girl swiped her hand and let the pieces of the axe fall to the ground. Tanarukks are, as a whole, smart; they quickly decided survival was the better part of valor. Perceiving a threat, the girl chased them down, knocking them to the ground one by one. As they charged away, they met resistance in the form of a panther and a panda. This was not a good day to be a tanarukk. They turned another direction and saw the Hunter waiting for them. The demon orcs panicked, suddenly realizing there was no escape.

In the War Room things were complete chaos. The General kept listening to the reports and ordering his subordinates who sent things down the chain of command. When Giles strode in, Hennessey was visibly relieved. "Mr. Giles, please have a seat."

"What is the situation?" Willow and Xander sat down next to him.

"Where's Buffy?" Instinctively, General Hennessey reached for his ulcer medication.

"She was out on patrol when I got your call. We are not exactly sure where she is at this point," Giles admitted. Hennessey visibly slumped.

"This is a bad situation," Hennessey said grimly. "Thirty minutes ago one of our scouts spotted a group of orcs marching towards the city with an ETA of about five hours."

"How many orcs are we talking about?" Willow asked with a bit of fear.

"Numbers are estimated at 800," the general replied. "That was bad enough. But then ten minutes ago we got word from all over the city that they were already engaged by a different group of orcs and demons."

"Sir, Team 3 reports conventional weapons are much less effective than the Initiative blasters," reported one aid. "The local Drizzt is assisting in the fight with a sword. Agent Graham reports new wave coming in."

General Hennessey popped a ulcer pill.

"Giles! We should be helping Buffy!" Willow said with a scared look. "If she's out on patrol, she'll need our help!"

"Unfortunately, Buffy is on her own unless we could somehow contact her," Giles said grimly. "We do not even know her present location."

"What about Drizzt? They said he's helping," Xander said, a touch of protest in his voice.

"Xander, I am sure that Drizzt is more likely caught up in this and is in a place where we could not reach him," Giles argued simply. "We have fighting in almost every part of the city. These orcs have somehow managed to invade the Bronze even. There's no telling when either of them will be anywhere."

"You have to wake up Buffy. This isn't a test, this the real deal," Angel said. They were out having a picnic under a tree on a bright sunny morning.

"But I'm happy where I am, here with you," the blond girl replied, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

"But you're not here and they are going to need your help," Angel said. Buffy felt a touch of pain run up her arm and glanced at her shoulder, only then noticing the closing wound. It was healing right before her eyes. She looked back at Angel who seemed to slip away into the sudden mist. "This is only the beginning. Follow the tunnels!"

Buffy leapt up from the ground, a moment before her eyes opened and the claw hit her. A slayer dream when she was awake, well mostly awake. That was weird. Buffy never let her eyes vanish from the creature in front of her. The bebilith clearly thought it had her trapped. Buffy grimaced. 'This is going to be bad,' she thought. But the demon triggered something deep inside of her. A raging hatred she had only felt once before. She could feel Buffy going away. Mr. Pointy was forgotten in her hand, as were her friends and family. Gone were thoughts of Angel leaving town. Gone were her worries about Sunnydale. There was only the bebilith and the Slayer.

The Slayer charged. Surprised at the tactic, the bebilith stumbled backwards slightly. The Slayer grabbed a pincer and bent it back, triggering a howl of pain from the creature. She didn't stop. She let go of the pincer and began climbing the spindly limb, the strength of her legs preventing her from being thrown off. The chitin cracked under the pressure. Hand over hand, the Slayer climbed. The bebilith, no, the prey was scared.

The Slayer managed to reach the demon's eyes, flattening her palm out, she drove her hand into the eye blinding the first of eight eyes. The prey shook with rage and pain, loosening the hold the Slayer had on its head. Suddenly the Slayer was in range for its jaws. Biting hard, the prey felt the poison enter its opponent. It shook its head again, flinging the Slayer from its head. She flew through the air, nearly impaling herself on an expose outcropping. The Slayer ignored the pain.

The Prey turned to try and escape, flinging another batch of webbing a the Slayer, trapping her to the rock. It had worked against Buffy, but it would never work against the Slayer. She tore through the webbing like it was a curtain. The prey was getting away. Grabbing the closest weapon, the Slayer hefted a massive rock above her head, charging after the prey. She threw the rock like a track athlete would throw a discus. The red rock spun, connecting with two of the prey's legs, knocking the entire creature over on one side. The Slayer charged after it. She snatched a nasty sliver of the red rock and leapt onto the creature's back. Using everything given to her, the Slayer drove the red stone into its neck repeatedly, severing the head of the prey. Its connection severed, the prey attempted to leave the mortal plane, to return back to whence it came from.

The Slayer refused to let it leave. Breathing deeply, the Slayer inhaled deeply as the demon lost hold of its physical form, adding a piece of its strength to her own. Hefting the bloodied red jade spear in one hand, the Slayer wiped the demon ooze of her mouth with the other. It was time to hunt.

The orkish lesser demons sensed the change in their situation. Up until this point, they had been the aggressors; they had hunted and chosen to take the city and had been doing quite well. But that changed when they saw the Slayer. They had watched as a human, unarmed and unarmored, a small human, had obliterated the great demon. The Slayer stalked towards them, dragging the head of the bebilith in one hand and a slice of jade the size of a well-fed Halfling in the other. She dragged the head, which was larger than she was, with a disturbing ease.

Tanarukks are not foolish creatures. As orcs go they are inordinately smart, more so than any other sub-race. When the Slayer growled, they knew they were in the presence of a great power and they, with all their numbers, were nothing. When the Slayer looked upon them a second time, they surrendered, tossing their weapons away and falling flat on their faces.

The Slayer was bored. She wanted prey that would run. She liked chasing them. It was more rewarding than simple killing. The Slayer looked upon the cowering tanarukks with derision and ran off towards the sound of the not-prey, the sound of gunfire.

"How is she doing this?" General Hennessey was referring to the sudden shift in the attackers. Reports were coming in from all around the town of Buffy Summers, appearing, seemingly out of nowhere, and subduing the orcs with a large red rock. The problem was she vanished as soon as the tanarukks were beaten and arrived far too quickly at the next spot. Repeat as necessary.

"I can only assume she is tapping into her growing power," Giles replied, giving his glasses a good rub, "allowing her to run faster and hit harder than before. It is a dangerous tactic, but it has worked before."

"Mr. Giles, bullets bounce off these things and she is beating them with a rock," Giles shook his head. He understood the difficulty the General was having. The Slayer was outside the comprehension of a man who had lived his life within the defined rules of a military life. Giles hid his grin as the man popped another ulcer pill and grimaced, touching his side.

"Buffy is extraordinary, a very capable young woman," Giles said calmly. "I trust her judgment in these matters."

"Sir! We've lost visual on Ms. Summers," one of the soldiers reported.

"Keep a look out for her," the newly appointed general commanded. "You need to keep her in line. She is making it impossible for me and my people to do our jobs. After this we need to have a clear delineation between our realms of influence and command."

"I plan to transform the Initiative a fair bit so in the future we will not be stepping on so many toes," Giles said. Suddenly, he smiled as a thought occurred to him. "Perhaps we need a liaison?"

"Oh?"

"Yes, someone who has knowledge and experience to act as a go-between for our two organizations."

"I think that would be an excellent idea," Hennessey agreed. "Who do you have in mind?"

"Have you heard about the events of last Halloween?" the watcher asked with a wry smile. He was about to say more when he was interrupted by the man on the coms.

"Sir, we've spotted Ms. Summers again," the young man explained.

"Well where is she?"

"She's charging the orcs, sir."

"We know that," Hennessey said with a strict look.

"Not these orcs, sir, the other orcs, that were marching here?"

Both older men were up out of their seats with looks of rage and confusion. "WHAT?!?"

The Tanarukks had attacked almost every part of the city. They were in the Bronze, they were at the ports, they were even in the Sunnydale Mall and the residential neighborhoods. They attacked everything that moved from old ladies to children. After the soldiers deployed and started fighting back, the other greater demons assisted, clamoring up out of the sewers and electricity tunnels.

But the Sunnydalers weren't going to just sit back and take it. They drove cars into the demons, hit them with baseball bats and shot them with guns. It was a loosing battle. Tanarukks were bred for strength and toughness, trained from birth as fighters. Bullets could work, but unless one was a crack shot or had a powerful gun, the damage was minimal. Physical attacks were not working, and people started retreating behind the soldiers. People were afraid. Except for one thirteen year old boy.

He stood in the middle of the street as a small horde of the demonic orcs ran through his neighborhood. His parents thought he was dead when he had vanished. They had run to the safety of shelters, but Billy Palmer stayed behind. Because he wasn't afraid. He had already faced his greatest fear more than a year ago.

He stood his ground against the tanarukks, keeping a couple of other children behind him. They had been separated from their parents and hid until Billy brought them together. They were too scared to run when the demons sacked their way over.

The tanarukks stopped, suddenly cowering. It had been over a year and a half since Billy Palmer had been in a coma, and had overrun Sunnydale with the citizens' own fears. To his parents, that year and a half meant that he had over a year and a half to heal. To Billy, this meant he had over a year and a half to practice. It had taken him about three months to really understand what had happened. He remembered the dream world, where everything bad happened. He remembered Buffy, who fought even all hope was lost. Billy had complete control over his own fear. And he had been practicing control over the fears of others. In the month that he had lived in this new world, the power had been growing faster than it had before.

"Hi, I'm Billy Palmer and I'm thirteen years old," he said in a tone that would scare a normal person. The tanarukks could not understand the words, but they knew the tone. "I'm not afraid. Are you?"

Suddenly, the demon orcs were afraid. Terribly afraid. Their minds were trapped by their worst fears. Thagk-nag was being trapped by a cave-in. Falsh was growing old and weak while the other warriors were still young and virile. Gorgh was being eaten alive by a demon lord. One by one the tanarukks cowered and cringed, finally passing out under the strain. One's heart burst under the strain and died. Billy turned to the children behind him.

"Come on," he said, holding the hands of the children. "Let's go find your parents."

Larry was the only thing standing between his mother and the demonic orc that burst into the house. He had a difficult time over the past few months. He had been one of the skeptics, one of the people who just thought the Scooby Gang was a bunch of losers. He had been wrong, Halloween had proven that. He had become Larry the Pirate for a night, escaping the turbulent waters of gender and sexual identity in teenaged America. It would be a bit longer before Xander's talk helped Larry admit the truth.

Larry had been trying to live up to the ideal that his deceased father had lived by: the manly man, the kind of macho man his father had projected. Larry became a bully only to try and live up to that. After Xander talked with him, he had a revelation that he could be who he was, not who he thought his father was. So Larry had come out of the closet and found that almost everyone accepted him for who he was (with a few exceptions). Hell, Snyder had been nicer to him after that (which brought up some issues Larry was not sure he wanted to really get into too deeply).

But it had all started with Halloween. Like everyone on that night, he retained his memories of his other identity, the pirate. With that, he had retained a full talent for all things nautical and a good sword arm. But it was not enough.

He tried to fight them off with a fireplace poker, but the steel poker just bounced off the armor. As the tanarukk axe swung down, aiming cut him in half, he turned to his mother.

"Mom, run."

Nodoka Saotome had a difficult life after her son was born. Her husband had taken her son away from her, when little Ranma was only five. They had signed a pact that Genma would turn Ranma into a man amongst men. If he failed, they were both to commit seppuku, giving their lives for their honor. For ten years she had read their letters, never having seen hide nor hair of either her husband or son.

They had eventually reunited, but it was not easy. There was a bit of confusion because of a curse and a few engagement issues, but it was eventually overcome. The ten years that followed that were better, much better, as Nodoka became a grandmother. During all this time, from the day Ranma went away, until now, Nodoka had kept the family blade with her at all times. This is not to say that she is especially versed in its use, she simply carried it; first for if her husband failed and later because it had become habit.

Her life had been quite hectic considering everything that happened and the shift into this new world was not terribly difficult. Two families and their friends all living in one small yacht? That was more than a bit trying. Her family was building a new house using the local wood and things were working out well. So when the tanarukks burst out of the sewers and onto the docks, Nodoka was less than amused or pleased. She had been sitting on the deck with her grandchildren. There was no warning siren or cry of challenge, the demon orcs saw targets and charged up the ramp.

There was really no hope for them. Not when almost everyone related to the Saotome family was in residence. Only her son and husband were out and about. Her daughters-in-law marched up, fully armed, and made it perfectly clear why demons avoided Nerima like the plague.

Odd-Roar Torsen was Norwegian to the core. At 25 years of age, he had finished his mandatory military service and received a degree in archaeology from the University of Trondheim. He had worked for a short time in Svalbard before getting a job as a blacksmith for a living history museum and archaeological site in Borge in Vestvagoy. There he had learned sword-smithing, and, as an extension of that, had become very interested in sword fighting. He had learned some, but he was still a beginner. It had saved his life and the lives of everyone on board the Nord Lys cruise ship. Using a metal rod he found, he blocked the tanarukk axe with a lucky shot, but the strength of the creature sent him staggering backwards.

Kjesti Tyrsdatter was Icelandic on her father's side and Danish-Swedish on her mother's side. She had lived in Reykjavik and Fano at different times in her life, visiting her family. But the place she loved to visit was her great-uncle's home in northern Sweden. Here she learned from the 8th best axe caster in the world. He taught her how to throw axes with range and precision few could master. When the Norwegian had blocked the tanarukk's strike, he staggered backwards and fell, which had the effect of loosening the demon orc's grip. The double bladed axe flew out of its leathery palm, spinning across the deck to land at the feet of Kjesti Tyrsdatter.

There was only a split second of instinctual thought before the blond young woman hefted the massive weapon, brought it around her head, and swung it over her head. The axe spun end over end flying above the deck it had just skipped across. The business end of axe and embedded itself into the head of the lead tanarukk. The force knocked it backwards, knocking the orcs backwards. There was not nearly enough room on the slim walk way for the lower tanarukks to stand aside. Unable to resist gravity, the tanarukks tumbled and fell into Sunnydale's port waters. They struggled mightily in the waters, but their heavy plate armor dragged them down into its depths. Soon, only bubbles broke the surface.

Odd-Roar's chest was heaving with the excitement. After a moment he felt a hand helping him to his feet. He looked up to see his boyfriend taking him into his arms. Together they kissed, not caring who was watching.

There were other tales of tragedy and success from all over the city of Sunnydale. Some people lived. Some people died. And it was all watched by Kaanyr Vhok, the creature who had sent the tanarukk army. Kaanyr Vhok, a cambion, a half-fiend, resembled a half elf to most people. He had pointed ears, sharp almond shaped eyes and a small bit of facial hair he dutifully shaved. In truth, he was the offspring of a human and a tanar'ri, the most terrible class of demon. He had been alive for far longer than most would believe possible. He had been in control over the Scoured Legion for decades at this point and he, as did all his demonic brethren, hailed from beneath Hellgate Keep

The half-fiend had considered his options very carefully. He was not one to act rashly, preferring to play the long game of tanar'ri politics as opposed to dagger diplomacy. Here was a new city, full of promise, but tainted by the confusion of their extra planar transposition. If he waited, he could play the long game, but Sunnydale would have already consolidated its position. The demonic rumors said the city was very powerful in its own way. If he attacked too soon, he might provoke the attention of Hellgate Keep's other enemies. Fighting the combined forces of the north were not something he wanted to be forced to do, no matter what the upper levels of demonic politics said. The clincher had been when his own mother, the maralith Mulvassyss the Sceptered, had decided she wanted humans for breeding stock. She had a plan to make a new caste based on a combination of human and demon that would exist between the true demons and the tanarukks. He was not one to go against his mother, especially since there were plenty of others who could replace him.

And so the campaign against Sunnydale had begun. Kaanyr Vhok marched his army, which had become restless under the reins from the upper demon castes, along the closest underground route to the new city. Their movement had not gone unnoticed by the other denizens of the Underdark. An army of hundreds does not walk quietly for those who can feel the vibrations of the very earth. When the Scoured Legion marched, others scrambled out of its way. He had been given a contingent of other demons under his command. These he moved at a different pace and along a different route so they would not be tempted to eat his tanarukks. There was no love lost between the true fiends and their cambion commander.

They pushed at every constraint, grasping for every straw that could bring about the downfall of Kaanyr Vhok. One of these straws was Aliisza, Kannyr's alu-fiend lover. She was the offspring of a human and a succubus and had the powers of both. She could shape change into most humanoids, but she was as uncaring and ruthless and playful as any demon. She had been beside the cambion leader for years.

Where Kaanyr Vhok had russet hair and a slightly middle aged appearance, Aliisza was always in the form of a shapely young woman with lustrous black hair which occasional sported large leathery wings from her back. She fluttered down onto his perch with just the slightest sound, and, as she always did, she gave her lover the slightest peck on the cheek.

"So, leader of the Scoured Legion, how goes the battle," the alu-fiend said as she plopped herself into his lap. Her wings curved around them both, caressing his neck.

"Aliisza, Aliisza, always so ravishing and deadly," he said as he stroked her neck. She cooed like a pet bird. "It went well until a moment ago. We had broken many of their defenses. That vampire knew right where to hit them."

He referred to the undead monster he had apprehended and asked nicely with claws and pain. The vampire had sung like a songbird. It had given in far too easily. After that the fun was gone. He had staked the thing himself. Nasty little things, vampires. So easy to get that dust in your lungs and so hard to get it out.

"So what's the problem?" She bent backwards to emphasize her barely covered breasts and thighs. He deliciously stroked them to placate her.

"I lost a bebilith and a few tanarukks. These Sunnydale people are more resourceful than expected. Reports of their military expertise were not overrated," the cambion said as he pushed a strap off her shoulder. "When you tell the others about this, do so soon. Grakjinilith wants to attack me. I have not had reason to execute him."

"Oh, why would I ever betray my delicious leader, Kaanyr Vhok," Aliisza said with far too innocent eyes. The cambion kissed her roughly for a long moment.

"My dear, I love you, I want you," he said in a nasty, dangerous voice, "but I will never, ever trust you."

"Honesty is so refreshing, and I always did love your intelligence," she replied seductively, touching the tip of his nose with a finger tip. "Far, far beyond that Grakjinilith."

The two cackled evilly before stripping each other and succumbing to their desires.

Buffy and company is owned by Joss W. and Mutant Enemy.
The Forgotten Realms and such are created and owned by Ed Greenwood and Wizards of the Coast and the various authors of the fiction.
Ranma 1/2 is owned by Rumiko Takahashi.

Thanks go to Janessa Ravenwood for editing this massive literary beast.