Deacon and Tantus accepted a four-hour shift for the internal watch that evening. While there were soldiers and knights on perimeter guard, they always want someone awake on the interior of circled encampment. Deacon also noticed one of those knights that were snickering at the Ministers jabs was always on guard outside his carriage. The prank he had planned would have to wait for another opportunity. Tantus kept focused on some of the papers he retrieved from the temple of Mantarok. Deacon was intrigued so he stepped closer to the fire.

“What are you focusing on? We are on watch you know.” Deacon said flippantly.

“That’s what the bubble is for. I can pay attention if that bursts. I’m concerned with these dimensional gates. We need to tell the Minister about this, my new subclass allows me to create artifacts up to the fourth tier of arcanum. That’s dimensional spells. I keep forgetting you don’t have a traditional education in magic. But you tap the arcane energies of the hells, don’t you? How does that work? The hells are alternate planes of existence but is that really different than another dimension? Can I have a strand of your hair?” Tantus rattled off these questions at a confused looking Deacon.

“Wait, my hair?” Deacon said as Tantus stood up and yanked out a strand from one of his braids.

“Ow!”

“Don’t be a baby. I’ve seen you punch huge monsters in the face.” Tantus said as he wrapped Deacon’s hair around a small crystal, he took from one of his pockets. Wind around the camp began to pick up as a softly glowing light from Tantus’s hands enveloped crystal. He held it in one hand while the other was holding down one of the pages at the top of the stack.

“I don’t think this is a good idea…” Deacon said trailing off as a rift began to appear in front of Tantus’s outstretched hand. Within the rift Deacon could see the pale green wasteland of the Nether Plane. He quickly moved over to Tantus, whose eyes were closed shut in concentration, and slapped the crystal out of his hand. As soon as he contacted crystal the rift stabilized into an oval. The flames of the fire froze solid. The very sight of energy frozen solid made Tantus scramble back from the gate he’d just created. Deacon had no idea what to do. He just stood there gawking at it as ice crystals began to form around the immediate area of the gate.

Suddenly a sharp wailing came from the other side of the portal. The sound was both eerie and piercing. Peering into it, Deacon could see the unkempt hair of a flying spirit heading straight for them. It had the features of woman but no legs. It flew in a serpentine pattern for the doorway into their world. Tantus was screaming something, but Deacon couldn’t make it out over the skull splitting shrieking. She made it through the portal only to be intercepted by two glowing arrows fired over Deacons right shoulder. That snapped him out of it and punched the creature right in the face. That knocked the arrows lodged in her chest loose, but she flew right back through the portal with the force of Deacon’s blow. This also prevented her from continuing to screech returning Deacon’s hearing back to normal.

“Crush the crystal!” Tantus’s screamed.

“Oh!” Was the only reply Deacon gave before searching the ground to see where the crystal landed. He caught it out of the corner of his eye and reached for it as he felt the grip of cold fingers latch around his throat and drag him into the Nether Plane.

“There you are. I thought I’d never get a chance to properly thank you.” Said a familiar voice from behind Deacon. He then felt two quick stabs into his back dropping his health by thirty percent. Deacon screamed but he could see Armand on the other side of the portal mouthing something as Typhus tried to hold him back from jumping into the portal. After another stab, Deacon managed to force the fingers around his neck to release, rolling on the ground and hoping up to his feet. He was shocked to see Qie Lao, the marauder captain he killed in Everhart, standing next to the shrieking woman holding a transparent dagger dripping with green ectoplasm.

“Lao!” Deacon screamed before charging at him. Lao easily evaded his lunge and backhanded Deacon with the pommel of the dagger shaving off another ten percent of his health.

“Still a fool. It won’t be long now before you wither away here. Considering this the land of the dead, a living dog like you should last only a few seconds.” Chuckled Lao. Deacon just stood there staring at him before taking in a deep breath and centering himself.

“The Darkness Grows.” Deacon spoke the words to begin channeling The Black. If Lao understood what just happened, he didn’t show it. Deacon’s sclera turned jet black while pupils remained green. He stalked toward Lao focusing his aura tightly around him. His footsteps began to erase sections of the ground they touched as he closed in on Lao. Lao smirked and began thrusting out with probing slashes to gauge Deacon’s defense. Deacon dipped and dodged to avoid the blade before being forced to block an underhand stab. At the point of contact Lao drew back with a screech. In contact with Deacon’s aura of The Black, Lao lost some of the spirit substance he was made of. He gestured to the woman floating in the air to go through the portal before lunging at Deacon. Deacon grabbed the blade hand at the wrist and lifted Lao up with one arm. Lao tried to drop transfer his spirit knife, but Deacon slapped it mid transfer sending it skittering through the portal. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the knife in the grass and between blinks it was gone. His concern for it lasted the space of a heartbeat as he proceeded to pummel Lao viciously. His left arm held in the air; Lao tried to pull out of Deacon’s iron grip. Each kick attempt was met with the loss of more of his spirit form. Eventually all that was left of Lao was his right arm, shoulders, and head. The rest of him chipped away by the power of The Black. Deacon placed Lao on the ground and moved to stomp his head through when a man in green robes, completely corporeal, stepped around the portal on the Nether side.

“Leave him to me. You must help your friends. The banshee will feed off their life force with every wail.” Said the stranger.

Deacon, snapped out of his rage, looked toward the portal, and noticed both Armand and Typhus were on the ground looking sickly and pale. He ran for the portal only looking over his shoulder once back at the robed figure as it consumed what was left of Lao like he was eating an apple.

On the other side of the portal the banshee was strafing the camp. Some defenders were mesmerized by her wail as others were falling to the ground, their life force being drawn from them. Deacon jumped through and focused a Nether Beam at the banshee. Unfortunately, he was channeling the black and managed a solid bar of darkness that created a vacuum of space between him and the Banshee. Nature abhors a vacuum, and it dragged the banshee into the space left unclaimed by this dimension. The wail was cut off as half the banshee fell to the ground while the top half still flew at Deacon. He snatched the re-dying creature out of the air and consumed her like any other spirit. That gained him a prompt.

New Class Ability Discovered- Banshee’s Wail- While channeling the hell of the Tempest Plane, you can scream out a paralyzing wail. This will paralyze targets in a cone in front of the Monk, barring any resistances or talents that prevent paralysis. Effect will last five minutes with changes in duration at levels five and ten. This ability costs one hundred soul energy.

Deacon then heard a snap as Tantus crushed the crystal between two rocks. The portal winked out of existence. The whole camp was in an uproar. Several combatants lay on the ground and people were running around in confusion since the portal was the only source of light since the fire froze over. Deacon went over to the frozen fire and triggered the change to infernal.

“The soul still burns.” He melted the nether ice around creating an infernal flame that would last the rest of the night. He’d have to remember to douse it in the morning. For now his mind was on how to explain this mess to the currently swearing and aggravated Minister of the Interior that was stomping his way over. Deacon also had questions about whoever that person was that ate Qie Lao’s soul.