Duade's patience was at it's limit by the time he reached Qarnokh's hold. The blathering twit escorting him hadn't shut up the entire way there nor had he left Duade to the peaceful folds of his own mind. As they continued walking Duade began to seriously contemplate hitting the man in the back of the head just to have a silent moment. His hands itched for it, even as his mind shouted no. He could feel the metal blade between his fingers, could taste the precise moment when the hilt cracked the back of the man's skull. Duade's eyes flashed as his muscles tensed for the sweet release, the beautiful rush, the call to action.

"Ah! Ere we are!" exclaimed Eric with a final cough as he opened a large oak door adorned with two twin, black torches. Duade blinked in surprise. He took a breath, then another before nodding once to his annoying companion. His head swam with an unease he could not control. A cold sweat appeared upon his brow. He slowly opened the door which gave out a low and mournful groan, as if protesting his very being. He paused halfway, knowing he must do everything in his power to gain back the one thing in his past he refused to let go.

"Well, ere ya' goin' in er ain't cha?" exclaimed Eric exasperatedly.

Duade gritted his teeth, his jaw set in determination. He threw out his chest importantly as he stepped into a hallow room. Duade stared around stupidly. He jumped and turned sharply as the door slammed shut.

Duade clenched his fists, and closed his eyes, and chuckling said to himself, now, now, you didn’t really think that they would make it easy did you? Calmly he reached into the satchel that Eric had so carelessly left hanging off his shoulder, and pulled out a lock pick. It wasn’t long after that that the door swung gently open.

There was no-one about, and the darkness was so thick it seemed you could almost taste it when you took a breath, in truth what clung to the air was the smell of rotting flesh, but at least it was dark enough that you couldn’t see what stank so profusely. Duade pressed on upwards, sensing that this Qarnok fellow would probably be a wherever it stank less.

There had been a few guards on the way up, but they were easy to quiet with the hilt of Duade’s sword. Soon there stood a massive bloodstained wooden door, with a torch on either side. Duades pace slowed as he drew near it. He walked up and touched its bloodstained surface and felt a shiver run down his spine. Duade’s fingernails dug into the wood, and his neck became strained, but taking a deep breath he regained his composure.

As Duade pushed hard against the heavy oak door that stood before him, it creaked and swung slowly open. Before the doors had opened completely two guards appeared baring there swords ominously.

“Who goes there!?” was there hail, Duades response was to pull out his sword.

“If you have come to fight, it is here you die fool!” shouted one of the guards whose eyes pierced heavily from behind his armor. As the two made there way towards Duade for the attack, and he prepared his sword for the worst, there was snap of fingers to which the guards response was quickly to stand down.

“How rude of you, at least let me see my visitor before his blood is spilt! You are a he, are you not?” came a calm voice in the background.

“I-Im so-sorry, it wont happen again… I swear it!” came a lowly moan from one of the guards.

“I know it won’t” that same chilling voice, whose maker could not be seen came again. There was another snap of a finger and suddenly from the darkness that bordered what could be seen there was a glint of steel. After a moment of silence during which the two guards had stood with blank looks of agonizing fear in the eyes, the bodies of both guards fell to the ground, their heads rolling into the darkness.

“Now, where were we? Oh yes, you had something to say to me?” The voice drew out calmly from the darkness. “Would seeing me loosen your tongue then?” the voice rang after a few moments of silence during which Duade stared intently into the darkness. There was a snap and suddenly four torches burst into flame, revealing a grotesquely obise man. From his fat and chapped lips ran a thick red liquid down his many chins and across his layered chest. His Skin was pale, almost to the point of being luminous, and in his right hand he gyred a golden chalice whose contents licked over its rims and spilt upon his chest.

“Now are you ready to talk?”

“I have done that which I was called to do, and have come to claim that which was promised me.” Duade drew out having assessed the situation.

“Now, tell me. What is in this goblet?” The paunch individual who stood before Duade asked.

“I did not come here to play games!” Duade growled in anger.

“I’ll tell you what is in this goblet.” Qarnok paying no attention to Duades angry protest to the shameful display, “This goblet holds the reason for which I live… the knowledge that those who enter my domain will not leave.” He said with a pause accompanied by an unnerving smile. Duade stared blankly at the man who stood before him. “You still don’t understand do you?”, to this Duades face grew more angry, “This is the Chalice of blood. None can escape it who enter this prisons gates.” There was a dark silence, “Your sisters blood” Qarnok said with a sip from his cup, “Is more sour now then it was before though.” He said spitting her blood in his face, and calmly pouring out the cups contents before him. “There lies the prize you seek” Qarnok said blinds opening up slowly behind him to reveal his sisters pale body dressed in rags hanging from a post just outside the window behind Qarnok. “The only prize you will find here is death!”

Inside Duade's mind, he floated in darkness. A vast cavity of shadows swallowed him whole, as his physical body stood rigidly upright. Somewhere inside his mind he searched for a reason, any reason, that this should be happening. Suddenly it dawned on him. Throughout all of his suffering, his triumphs, and his adventures he had truly known. He would never see his sister again. She was already dead, and he would never be free.

A single tear slid down his coarse face as he stiffly turned to the locked door. Guilt flooded through him and ridiculed his very efforts for even trying; for betraying the very person he had not wanted to betray. He had failed his sister, but he would not fail Antirne. Suddenly every moment that they had shared together on their short journey seemed more precious to him than anything that he had ever known. By saving her now, he could salvage some form of his sister's memory. More tears began their decent from his eyes as a rage so fierce gripped him an unbreakable hold as he unsheathed his sword.

Duade readied his sword to his side for a powerful attack. It was as if time had paused, and were it not for the fact that Elizabeth’s body swung slightly in the wind, one would not have known it were not so. Duade’s gentle eyes changed, they became a manic red. His breathing had become steady, and mechanical. The two stood peering at one another, Duade looking past Qarnok at his sisters’ ravaged body, the asailant watching Duade’s reaction with extreme pleasure in his face.

Suddenly there was a blinding flash of lightning. When there were distinguishable shades of light Duade stood his blade pressing hard, parried by that of another inches from Qarnoks face, whose pleasure was clearly beginning to diminish. The Clash of thunder came and Duade pulled back quickly releasing himself from the parry. Again Duade attacked and his adversary again parried.

Qarnoks face had darknened; his fingers snapped and the armored enemy took another stance, his bird shaped helm glinting in the firelight. Duade readied himself for the battle by changing his stance. Suddenly the figure who had stood relatively still before, moved toward duade for the attack with a grace and speed that were incomprehensible. This did not change the fact that as the first attack met duades sword in a parry his enemies hilt shatter in his hands, sliding off his blade and falling to the ground. You could sense the fear in the armored enemies body, and see it in Qarnok’s eyes. In a powerful swing the birds head was hewn, and as it rolled gently off to clatter upon the ground, Duade’s sword swung into the fat man’s gut.

Qarnok’s eyes were opened wide, in awe as he found the blood on his lips and body his own, he made to speak, but no sound would come. Duade hastily made his way toward the window where sister gently swung, and with a sweep of his sword the blinds were gone. He took her upon his shoulder as he cut the rope that bound her to the exposed rafters outside, and made his way out of the room and back down the corridor. Behind him there was a rain of roses, that shattered upon the ground as those who stood were brought to there knees never to stand again. The smell of blood grew thick upon his hands, as his crimson blade brought down all that dared block his path. He found himself outside tredging through the mud. Blood dripping from his arms, snakes clearing his path, as if in fear, Duade made his way into the forest trudging right passed Angelic, and Flitz who stared in shock at the blood soaked man they once knew.