Khain stood, swigging the last of his wine in a most graceless act. "Finally," he said to himself. "I was starting to cramp." He stepped onto the table, then onto the stairs. The sudden change in gravity was nauseating, but he continued on. Khain entered the Trial chamber. Looking around at the doors everywhere, he noted that the walls seemed to change subtly when viewed from different angles. He paced once round the chamber, then looked to Malifact, waiting for the sign to enter. Malifact nodded once. Khain floated upwards, taking a door on the ceiling. Emerging into a cavern, the door swung closed. The cavern was small, but darkness filled it like a miasma. The air seemed thick, and the thump of the door echoed. Looking behind himself, Khain saw that the door had vanished, leaving nothing but the rough cavern walls. He took a breath, and stepped forward. As his foot fell, he began to hear heavy breathing. The second step, and the breathing was noticeably louder. On his third step, torches spaced around the edges of the cavern lit up, the flames dancing green before settling to red. In the first second Khain noted that the cavern was roughly shaped like an arena. In the second, he ducked and rolled backwards to avoid the great axe which swung through at his head height. Looking up again, he saw that the axe belonged to a minotaur. All around the edges of the arena, the stands were packed with rough-hewn statues of humans, elves, and dwarves, all cheering as if it were a great and glorious fight to the death. Khain knew then - this was a fight to the death. He was alone here, and if he didn't come out he knew he wouldn't be missed. The minotaur came in hard, its axe whistling before splintering into a stone column. The entire structure of the pillar shuddered, and as the great beast withdrew its axe the pole toppled, rolling a short way before coming to a hault. Khain jumped onto the pole, reaching behind himself to draw his bow, but grasping nothing but air. The bow was gone. At his waist, he saw his flask was there, and by its weight it seemed to be full. Reaching out with his senses, he could feel the blood within it. That was all he needed. He leapt forward, the flask pushing out the thick red liquid as he flew. He formed it into what he most needed; a weapon. The blade formed about his fist as he came forward, landing a foot shy of the minotaur in a roll he came up again almost right into the axe blade again, this time planted into the ground to restrict his movement. Khain hoisted a foot onto the axe, launching himself upward and attacking the minotaurs face with his makeshift blade. The blade pushed in, but sliced away on the skull. That strategy was no good; he couldn't hold the blade together. Instead, reforming it, he pushed over its head as it reared back from the first cut. He sliced at the base of the skull, but encountered thick armor. As he fell behind the monster, he sliced at its flanks but was foiled by thick mail. He sliced at the backs of its legs, but was once again held away from the beasts flesh by its steel plates. Beginning to become frustrated, Khain leapt back as the minotaur turned, its axe whistling by with lightning speed and severing several strands of Khain's hair. As he retreated, he knew he needed some form of higher ground. He began to skirt the arena as the beast roared, making it halfway around again towards the fallen pillar before the minotaur made a move. And when it did, it was a spectacular move indeed - the minotaur hurled its mighty axe with a grunt, the blade spinning through the air in a perfect arc. Khain attempted to jump over it, but as the haft spun past his left arm caught in it, breaking with a sickening crack. He landed, withdrawing the arm into his tunic as he now sprinted towards the pillar. He could feel the blood in the arrows of his quiver lying partially under it; if he could get to that he would have a suitable weapon even without the bow. The minotaur charged, breaking through another pillar as it did. The second of eight structures fell, this one falling into the center of the arena. Khain felt the ground shaking from the hoofbeats pounding behind him, and with each step he took he felt his balance falling out of step. He leapt towards the first pillar, pushing himself forward by his own blood. The pain was excruciating. He felt as if his veins were about to tear from his skin, but he knew that if he didn't push for his only weapon then something would be torn from his skin, and he knew he wouldn't enjoy it in the slightest. Landing not in a graceful roll but in a forceful slide along the ground, Khain snatched his quiver as he slid by. The bow was useless to him in his current state, but the arrows were usable without it. Rolling over his broken arm onto his back, Khain drew two arrows from the quiver. If all went well, that was all he would need. Judging by what the minotaur was doing, he knew all was not about to go well. The minotaur hefted its axe from the wall, drawing it back as it ran towards Khain. The first of the two arrows flew forward, trailing red as he pushed it with all the concentration he could muster, guiding it to its target. The first arrow sunk home, flying back through the minotaur's eye. It roared, dropping the axe to raise both its hands to its face. The fingers were too large to pluck the delicate elven arrow from the socket, and pushed it all the way in. The minotaur roared again, its enormous hands scrabbling at its face. Khain sent the second arrow, flying with such speed that it literally caught fire in mid-flight. The flaming arrow landed in the minotaurs neck with such force that it tore through to the other side, severing the spine. The beast collapsed, its body losing all control and flailing with random signals as it went through its death throes. Finally, the body stilled, and the breathing ceased. Khain attempted to stand, but found that his broken arm had slid to the back of his tunic as he had fought, and his shoulder was contorted in such a way that he couldn't move it. He pushed on the ground, rolling onto his stomach, and pulled his broken arm from the back. As he did this, he felt the bones begin to knit again. Several moments later, he pushed his new arm out of his sleeve again. The skin around the breaking point seemed stretched somehow, but he shrugged it off, thinking it would heal. Just now, Khain noticed his bow, lying on the ground not far from where his quiver had lain. He picked it up, slotting it into its rightful place next to his quiver. "Now what?" he asked aloud to the empty room. As his voice echoed back to him, he felt the room vibrating unnaturally. The vibrations continued to escalate, reaching a deafening crescendo with the floor breaking into hundreds of chunks. Khain fell into the blackness. And then Khain fell out of the door he had entered, catching himself on a pillow of blood just inches from the ground in the trial chamber.

Buzag warily rose from his chair and had to jump down to the floor, cursing his height all the way. He watched the others scramble onto the table and down the rather unnatural stairs. The squig herder turned round to untie his meager herd from the door handle and - after avoiding a swipe from Bigguts - seated himself upon Squiggy. He took Mr Spiky out of the strap on his back and jabbed it as hard as he could into Bigguts' side promptly causing the large squig to jump up and land in the open doorway on the table. The others followed suit hoping not to get another cut on their sides. "WAAAGH!!!" Buzag yelled in his somewhat high pitched voice. After he and his squigs stopped tumbling down the stairs the small goblin found himself in the middle of an immense chamber full of doors on every side. Using his large intellect for a goblin, Buzag deduced that each door was a challenge that he would need to complete. In an unusually quick second thought he decided that he would choose the door rather than have a squig accidentally burst through one.

The Challenge of Loyalty OOC: Vashio rose his eyebrows, indeed, he was surprised, yet he could not allow his mind to be further puzzled over it. He jumped onto the table and casually walked down, sword drawn as if something would jump out. Eagerly, he, and the others found three doors, each beheld a trial within. Unsure of which to pick, Vashio approached a random one, situated on the left. Stretching out his hand, he approached the door, but out of the ordinary the edges flickered blood red, and of it's own accord slowly opened with a large screaching noise. Suddenly, the Druchii found himself thrown in by an invisible force. "The Trial of LOYALTY." A voice boomed in his ears as he landed accurately on his feet. He shook his head quickly and looked around him. "Are you loyal to only yourself or your Comrades?" The voice softly spoke in his ear, he narrowed his eyes. About one hundred Chaos Warriors, each bearing the symbol of Invicto stood shoulder to shoulder, Vashio was directly at the front. They were surrounded by legions of Scaven. Unaware of the challenges reason, he prepared to do battle.

(right ok in an effort to resurrect this thread) Ragnarok looked on as one by one the warriors of the Invicto went through the doors. "Ok Let's get this over with." He mumbled as he downed his tankard of ale. He stepped through the door to his right and started falling. After what seemed like an age he felt solid earth beneath his feet and a voice boomed out: "THE TEST OF STRENGTH." Out of the darkness ahead of him came a giant beast with seven heads all with fangs dripping venom. With a snarl Ragnarok pulled his axe of his back and leapt at the creature of chaos. Ragnarok immediately knew he was outmatched due to the sheer ferocity of attacks. He backed off from the creature and put all of his effort into defending himself from the attacks of the beast. As his defence deteriorated through numerous small wounds he felt himself slip into a state of battle-madness and gave up all attempts at defending himself. He hacked at the creature everytime he had an opportunity but his attacks only succeeded in striking sparks from the creatures impenetrable hide. In a last effort Ragnarok summoned his energy and unleashed his fury in a fireball that struck the creature on one of its necks. The creature recoiled and a small tear appeared in the flesh from which acid dripped and fizzed as it hit the floor. Ragnarok prepared himself and cast more fireballs at the creature, most of which the creature evaded or batted away with it's tail. Ragnarok leapt into the attack again but lost his footing on a pool of his own blood and crashed into the creature shoulder first, one of the creature's heads bit into Ragnarok's axe hand causing the warrior to release his grip on the weapon and for it to fall from his grasp. The creature threw Ragnarok to the ground and tried to pounce on him as he rolled away. As he regained his footing ragnarok noticed a deeper wound at the base of the creature's seven necks that was dripping acid everytime it moved, with a sudden realisation Ragnarok drew his sword and threw himself at the creature. With a grunt he plunged his sword into the wound, heedless of the acid that splattered over his own armour Ragnarok twisted his sword round and drove it in all the way to the hilt. With a great cry the creature fell over dead and Ragnarok picked himself out of the pool of his own blood and the acid from the creature. He just had time enough to find his sword when he was jerked off his feet and within an instant he appeared back into the hall. He shuffled over to his seat, grabbed another tankard of ale and sat down exhausted.

After months of traveling, Bru finally arrived at the black fortress. He glares up upon the huge structure and is very well impressved. He works his way towards the door in a slow phase. Bru is very old and very small, so the speed of his isen't the one of great warriors. As he walks into the fortress he notices many, very sorry-looking creatures lying on the ground deheaded. "My, my. I wonder what I have missed so far." He smiles for himself and makes his way down the hall. After a few minutes of walking, he senses a very dark aura coming from a room up ahead. As he moves closer to the door, he notices that he will not be able to reach the doorhandle by himself. No matter, he can just simply use a little magic to open it up. He lifts his staff and then slams, not to hard or quick, it back into the floor and the door slowly goes up. But the room is empty. Bru takes a look around and notices that there has been a battle of some sort here. He also notices the big hole in the wall and walks up to check it out. He see that a battle has been fought outside aswell. "What is this? I could have sworn I felt a energy coming from in here! What? What's this?" He notices the door in the table and climbs up. He can see that the flames are burning downwards due to magic but is not really surprized. He clumsly makes his way down the stairs and notices a group of strange figures standing in a circle. "I'm sorry I'm late." The crowd turns and looks down upon the old, small goblin. -------------------------