Klarke moved down the huge sewer tunnel towards the large gate that eventually would show up and block its route. Up ahead, it saw a bend in the tunnel...
...and stopped when a little girl emerged from around the corner. She couldn't be older than maybe eight years old, and yet, she was down here. Klarke would have found that odd if it could make its own mental observations.
"I pity you," the little blonde girl said, turning towards the massive flesh golem. Klarke didn't move.
"The gods who reign from the heavens above are merciful. They have implanted souls and free will into the bodies of all of their creatures." The girl continued. "You, however, serve a monster who imagines herself as a god. This is because she is not merciful enough to give you a soul. She believes that simply animating you is enough to make her a giver of life. However, she has only turned death into an abomination."
If Klarke had patience, it was wearing thin. The mighty flesh golem was not about to let this little girl impede its progress. It simply moved forward. The girl, standing near the wall, didn't move except to stare at Klarke as it easily tromped past her, eager to reach the end of the tunnel.
"When you are left without a god to serve and have no soul or free will, you will truely be one of the lost."
Klarke ignored the girl's final words and kept going down the sewer tunnel.

Charon kept his chant up, and smirked a smirk that said his intrests lay elsewhere than a quick bite. The dagger spun quickly and slashed at the man's crossbow severing the string. The crossbow reversed itself in the suddenly released energy. Charon put away one of his daggers and caught the obsidian dagger. He twirrled it in his fingers.

"I already ate my fill tonight, your parts will make an interesting golem or revnant."

Charon took a fighting stance. "Your knowledge of fighting the undead will prove useful to my goals."

A lone figure stood atop a peak. The air was dead, musky and dank.

"Foolish Undead. Have you forgotten that hell is still watching you? No? Well, I'm here to remind you."

The demon drew his cape around him, masking all but his head. He would wait for the opportunity to strike at the heart of these fools.

Last call for getting through the portal
 

"There's no more time," the lich hissed to the Death Knight on the other side of the portal. Lord Scoth began backing toward the dimension door, but before he would leave, he would summon a demon from the Abyss to provide additional cover. Calling them out, there was an explosion of hellfire in front of Lord Scoth, the smoke clearing to reveal a Vrock, clicking and clacking as it awaited its order.

"Destroy them," the Death Knight commanded, pointing at the remaining Hollows. The Vrock screeched loudly before rushing off into the fray, and Lord Scoth stepped back through the portal.

Valas closed it as soon as Scoth came through. The room was a bit crowded now with everyone they had "rescued", especially the guy on the horse. The lich wasted no more time than he had to, and quickly got around to explaining their actions.

"You cannot defeat the Hollows with what weapons or powers you may have, especially as they're coming in wave after wave," Valas stated. "I've done a little research, and have found out that only weapons imbued with pure, spiritual energy are capable of harming them. Seeing as how all of us are dead," the lich glanced around, making sure everyone here actually was dead, "we probably don't have much of that, but I have found out where we may be able to acquire what we need."

Before continuing, Valas asked, "How many of you are familiar with the history of this city?"

Taryth had commanded his winged nightmare to leave the stadium soon after the hollow attack. Most of the hollows couldn't fly, and those who could found much easier targets in the arena. The few that did go after the Dread Knight met firey death, in ball form.

Back at his mansion, Taryth decided to finish reading his spell book in solitude. The outbreak of hollows did not concern him at the moment, so he did not worry about it.

The soul society was littered with the scars of battle. General slashed off the arm of a soul reaper, the reapers sword landing in the General's hand. "Ah finally, a captain zapatou." A few more soul reapers came charging into battle. He took his new sword and the blade extended in an instant, sckewering them all. "I love shishcabob." He lifted them up then retracted his blade devouring them each as they fell.

At that moment he felt a strong spirit force. "Opps too many captains for me." He flipped the blade so he was holding it underhanded, then jammed it behind him and turned it. A new portal opened. He simply took a step back and the doors closed. "Too slow," he gloated as the doors shut moments before the captains could attack.

"You really have no idea who you are dealing with do you?" Razma said. He slanted his blade down towards the floor in one hand, and grabbed a flask in the other. he popped open the flask and poured a bit on the sword, then took a quick swig of it, popped it closed. He then put the flask back and started charging in the same motion. The blade held to his right, lowered a bit as he charged. Just as he reached in striking distance, He got into a stance that would swing his blade hard. And just as the blade started moving forward, Razma reversed direction, spinning as fast as he could and striking from the left side, with the blade still quite wet with holy water.

Charon caugt the blade on the blade of his silver dagger. Charon aimed the hilt of his dagger toward the man's jaw. the hilt clicked as the pommel stone popped open, splashing the man in the face with a green powder. The smell of the powder burned the nostils.

"You are foolish to think I don't have a trick or two up my sleeve."

For the man the room started to melt and his opponent took on more of a demonic appearance. He split into several demons who all began to laugh. filling the room with it's cacophony.

What the hell? Razma thought, as he slowly backed up, staying very defensive. He had forgotten his last trick, the one were he kept some holy water in his mouth, for he had no idea how to deal with seven of these things. Then all at once they charged him. He swung his blade, slashing through all seven. The demons all split into more, now surrounding him again. He slashed through them all again, only doubling their numbers again.

The next time they charged he felt their claws ripping at his armor. He felt his blade being tugged at. He felt their teeth sink in and drink his blood. He felt his limbs being ripped out, his eyes being torn out of the sockets they were in. He felt his heart slow, then come to a stop. And then he felt himself hit the ground.

Then it all faded, he was starting to fall, and he felt water flowing down his throat. He started to choke on it, but its effects were starting up. He stumbled back a few feet instead of falling, coughing a bit as he did. He had just enough time to see his opponent come after him before he fell through a weak spot on this second floor.

He landed with a thump, but besides the pain of landing on hard wood, he was relativly fine. He got to his feet, swaying a bit as the powder's effects are still giving him dissyness, and got into a defensive position, waiting for his opponent to follow.

Charon watched amused as the human fought himself. It was a simple distilation of the blood of midnight orchid. it's effects however were always unique. The drug was called "powder of waking nightmares" for a reason. The humans resistance to dark magic intrigued him. It was perhaps better to capture him alive. As the human fell into a hole he saw an opportunity. He followed to make sure the human didn't damage himself to badly.

"Why not submit, I don't know how long you can fight yourself?"