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[Tay Thormear]

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Chain’s told me about the possible solution to this problem. He seems to know a lot of lore and rituals, for a murderer. He told us about “The Power” down here. If we were able to kill “The Power” that we would be granted another chance in life. Chain’s told us he would have tried on his own, but “The Power” was too strong.

“It takes the shape of a man.” He told us. “Don’t be fooled, he looks small but packs a great load of power, hence his nick name.”

Together, we have done many things together. Gerosh and I discovered it was the paladins who drove my to my near insanity. We found ways to fight as a team, to combine our abilities into one. So naturally when Chain’s suggested we do a ritual to bring our souls and body to be a whole, that we agreed.

The ritual would consist of a variety of things, and the finishing product would be miraculous. The ritual would bring us together, into one hosting body, mine. We would share abilities, my magic, his abilities to fight and his knightly way of chivalry. We will share each other’s memories, good and bad. We would think as one. This is what I fear the most; I won’t be exactly as I was when I died. Is that for the better, or the worse?

Now we stand here, facing each other, surrounded by odd-looking objects. Chain’s is speaking words quite loudly, what they exactly are I’m not sure. I trust both of these men with my life, this better work as planned.

Chain’s is motioning to us to cut our palms. I watched Gerosh drag the dagger across the inside of his palm he didn’t even wince. Now I hold the dagger, I drag it across my palm, embracing the pain. We slam our hands together, squeezing tightly our blood mixes and drips into the middle of the circle, in between us.

“Äôstonishÿ” The words roared out of his mouth like an avalanche of rocks.

Gerosh now winces in pain. “It burns!” he screamed.

I feel unbelievably cold, the freezing sensation running through my veins. Beams of light, blue and red, swirled around our bodies. Starting from the ground to above our heads, swirling faster and faster. Nearly at once, unexpectedly our bodies slammed together. Echo of bones cracking, and blood gurgling reflected off the walls. Chain’s stood staring in astonishment. The blue and red beams of light mixed together, halting from their swirling they shot into the as one. Rock came tumbling down after the beam shattered through it.

The dust began to clear, I felt different, more balanced, as if good and bad had mixed, light and dark. My appearance was no different, for this wasn’t my body but my soul. Our souls had mixed together to become one.

“Holy rubbish…” Chain’s voice trailed off.

We gathered back at the fire, Chain’s and I. My urge to fight is greater than ever, not necessarily to kill, but to fight. I see no reason in killing my opponent now, only if needed, or for revenge. Yes…revenge, a word that strikes me straight to the heart. I will avenge much of it, when I return.

“When do we do this Chain’s? I grow eager to return.” I asked him as I gnawed down on the meat of a dead foe.

“Whenever you like Beo, but I warn you we can only return “if” we win.” He replied choosing his words somewhat carefully.

“If?” I asked. “There’s no if…we go now.”

The plan was simple; I would strike against “The Power” in the open, by myself. Sometime during the fight Chain’s would appear, finishing the fight quickly. I don’t expect him to appear though, nor do I want him to, I can do it on my own. We’re almost there, and I’m more than ready.

We reached the place that “The Power” was suppose to be resting. To our luck he was there, but he wasn’t resting. He stood short, nearly 5'5, and was fairly wide.

“You arrived quicker than expected. Perhaps the rumors are true, but there’s only one of you, where’s the others?” the voice from “The Power” nearly shattered my eardrums. It was high-pitched, and almost whiny.

“Less chatter.” I spoke

“Less chatter? I would think someone as yourself would like to communicate before you were banished to hell!” His high-pitched whiny voice shot into my ears.

I shook my head slightly. “I come not to chat, but to defeat you.”

I had expected him to come on as quickly as he did. Before I realized it I was shot across the ground into the nearest wall. It was a circular room, surrounded by tall cave walls, with one opening, the one I came in.

He was quicker than I thought he’d be for such a large man. He swung his staff back and forth nearly swatting me side to side. My agility though, was still better than his. A wooden club held in my left hand, never before could I handle one, but now however thanks to Gerosh I could.

I cried in divine fury as I ran head onto him. I swung my club upwards, catching him under the jaw and lifting him off the ground. I sent a bolt of energy towards him, sending him across the room. I came in quicker and harder, smashing the blunt end of the club across his face while bolts of energy and balls of fire burned against him.

Finally he was pinned, nowhere to go. As I thought, Chain’s hadn’t assisted what so ever. I lifted my club high into the air ready to strike. Before I could however I heard a holler from above from. Descending through the air was Chain’s. He landed on “The Power’s” chest feet first lodging the tip of the sword into his heart.

The Power coughed slightly, and spoke quietly. “You will return to your lives, for a second time…but I will see you again!”

We left the scene of the fight, leaving The Power there to die. As we walked away I told Chain’s to find a man by the name of Poet.

“Send him to where I was buried.” I told him. He had asked why I couldn’t do it myself, but unlike his body mine was buried under six feet of dirt. I’d have to use every bit of strength to reach the surface.

“We’ll find each other again I’m sure.” Chain’s told me. I didn’t know whether to believe it or not.

Our bodies slowly faded from sight, leaving sparkles of light behind. I remember watched the caves blur out of sight. The next thing I knew, I was coughing on dirt.

Beowulf’s body, buried under ground, began to spasm. The head that was rested by his shoulders when he was buried slowly merged with his body. His body grew slightly, and filled out a bit more, the combination of a warrior had strengthened him. His body was nearly numb from being un-used for so long, but he had to struggle to get free of the dirt.

I dug and dug for all I was worth. Throwing dirt out of my way, I finally saw a bit of light. I shot my hand straight up, feeling the cold air.

The sun had set, it was night and a cool breeze swooped around the pillars circling Beowulf’s grave. Rain trickled down, slowly at first, than gaining speed. The water splashed against the ground, the ground that was beginning to shake slightly. A hand shot out of the ground grabbing the earth around it. Than another hand shot out, grabbing more earth. Slowly the body of Beowulf Thormear emerged from the ground, dirty, wet, and weak. He feel limp to the ground, lying in a small puddle of water as the rain continued to poor down.

"I can only hope that Chain’s will locate Poet." he thought to himself.

[Tay Thormear]

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The two guards dragged in yet another dead body; justice was served at the court trial. They turned around leaving the room, except for one who stayed back to look over some things. He didn’t pay attention to the rotted corpse of Chain Lord (aka Chain’s) some where along the ground.

The rotting flesh began to fill out, his skin grew back to the roughness it use to be. His eyes snapped open sudden awaken from the dead. He, just like Beowulf, had a second chance. His body wasn’t as tired as Beowulf’s, he wasn’t covered under dirt and his body parts were often moved as guards shifted the bodies around the room.

His eyes peered under his eye; he quietly ran his hands through his hair slicking it back. The guard stood with his back to him, counting papers in his hands. Quietly Chain’s stood up, without hesitation he lunged across the room. Unsheathing the sword from the guards holster he sunk it through the guards chest as he turned around. He let go out the sword, letting the guard drop to ground dead.

“One.” He whispered quietly.

Walking outside of the room the guard next to the door spun. He stopped suddenly, his face flushed of its color. He tried gasping for breath but couldn’t get anything.

“Look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Chain’s spoke coldly. He quickly grabbed the guard’s head, snapping it to the right. The guard fell over, dead with a broken neck.

“Two.” He whispered.

It wasn’t long until Chain’s was out into the cold night. Before he was captured he had hid his things in a safe spot, he was planning to go back and get them but was captured by the officers. Chain’s set off to gather his equipment and miscellaneous items. All the while he kept repeating to himself.

“Must find Poet…”