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"Is love not grand?" Konton asked with a laugh. "My demons are at your disposal. They will do as you command, and can materialize at will from the very darkness itself. Give them their orders, and they will see them carried out... or die trying."

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"My demons are not affected by magics in the same way as those of this realm. Our realm is FAR different than the plane on which this world and Earth's current state reside on." Konton smiled. "They may not be able to appear there directly, but they can certainly slink in through the shadows. Unless one is specifically targeting their kind, their very sense and blood... then they are as shadows."

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Konton smiled, "Then take as many as you can wish... I command millions of their kind, though some still seek to defy me."

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"But of course." Konton replied with a nod, "All you have to do is tell my captain here," and a demon materialized from the very shadows. "Where you need he and his contingent and, of course, their mission and any other little details you wish to throw in... and they will do the work for you." he smiled. "Personally... I think I would like to have your hounds keep our guest here," the demon nodded to Po-ar. "Company... Who knows, maybe he will develope a horrid fear of me yet."

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The demon captain bowed, "As you wish." it hissed before disappearing into the shadows.
He would join with his legion and begin the mission straight away.

Konton meanwhile, sat down in a rather comfortable looking chair. Though the demon cared not what it felt like, he simply wished to observe the show that was about to begin on the other side of the room.
"What sorts of hallucinations are we talking about here?" the demon asked Herne, motioning for him to sit as well if he wished.

Po-ar meanwhile, was beginning to stir.

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"Perhaps I could aquire some of these drugs for a trail upon one of my more stubborn prisoners?" Konton asked, his eyes however never leaving Po-ar.
The demon wanted to drink in the suffering.
"I have one in my clutches who is the door to everything I have worked so hard to. Yet, try as I might, I have yet to unlock him."
It was at that moment which Po-ar's eyes opened. He sat up quickly, causing his head to spin dizzily and pain to shoot through his torn chest and ripped apart arm.
"Where am I?" the Tarnb-jin found himself asking, his vision a bit blurry.
Konton's laugh filled the room. "A place of your worst nightmares."

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Morrigan had only one way to react to all of this----that was, after the initial shock, the protectiveness of Po-ar, and his sudden disappearance. She had to break the barrier.
She had recognized those dogs, also----she knew that the twins were in trouble. Whoever had tried to enter the Temple, had carried the same undertoned dark she felt now. Those dogs, whatever they were, weren't.....right.
She took cover in the closet, shutting out Po-ar's cries as hard as that was to meditate. She found herself deep within the barrier, again; this time, she did the ki-blasting herself, imitating what she remembered Po-ar doing. Unlike Po-ar, however, she raised up one HUGE ball of ki----because after all, without Po-ar, she didn't have a portal to step through. Again, the spell closed in on itself. Triumph.

She opened her eyes, feeling her aura raise off the charts. She could leave. As much as she couldn't stand the thought of leaving Po-ar there, she had to go back and warn Ashuri, contact the others. She wouldn't stay for long, however. Naga had some way of tracking her down. To endanger the others would be unforgiveable.

As she crossed the mists, Naga's laughter at Po-ar stopped abruptly, staring down the hallway in disbelief. "That blasted b***h couldn't have...." he murmured incredulously, sending the shades to investigate. They shrugged and shook their heads.
"To her temple!" he ordered sharply, "Do NOT waste my time! She's heard too much----do NOT allow her to reveal any information. If she leads you to Ashuri or the enemy, that is ALL you must allow her to do."
They nodded their heads, disappearing.

For a moment, Morrigan navigated the faery realm, traveling around until she felt her next destination: Capsule Corp.
As she materialized in the kitchen, she offered no smile, no warning, no greeting or goodbye. To say the least, she was looking pretty scruffed up and worse for the wear. "It's a trap," she told Vejita and Trunks, "Konton intends to lure her there and use a toxin on her. It'll make her delirious or kill---I'll try to rescue Po-ar, if I can," she promised, "Just keep her hidden."
"Morrigan, what do you mean--"
"Quiet, Vincent," Morrigan cut him off, "I'm not done yet."
The most pronounced detail about her now were her eyes. They were angry, but stoic, sparkling but mute. She found some midpoint, or something really, really bad had happened. She was on a mission. "Look," she reiterated, looking around anxiously, "You need to contact Ashuri. It's a trap. It's always been. They, they have those hounds we dealt with in the first thousand-year cycle, Vincent... Be careful!"
And she was gone again. "Mor, wai--- Damnit!" Vincent cursed again, shaking his head, "Alright, well, that's our cue. Ash is around here somewhere..." Vincent sighed, "Morrigan's obviously paranoid about something. Let's be careful, kids. If I'm thinking correctly, we could have a whole lot of unholy hell on our hands, and I don't mean of the religious or pagan sort," he sighed, "but damn, really. What else are we to do?"


And again, she was gone. She was back in the feary realm, in the forests of her home, frantically searching for what herbs she required. Dogsbane. Hyssop, from the Greeks. Ash leaves. Oak leaves. Thyme. Basil. She gathered each and every ingredient she needed, the certain mosses, galls, spring water. The fortress was destroyed, but Avalon still stood. Her hidden workplace still stood. She had some options.
She went to the lesser-known hideaway, grinding the ingredients together, blessing them as she went. She had to make some sort of protection and repellant amulet for those dogs----otherwise, she had just as good of a chance as Po-ar did for escape.


A shade appeared again before Naga, but he did not like the news he was recieving. "She's gone...?? What do you mean, she's gone???" he asked again, "You can't tell what realm she's in?"
"She's been hopping," he explained, "Between the Earth Realm and ours. Back and forth, back and forth. We're working on tracking her down now...."
But Naga had another idea. "Hunting dogs, those are?? Do you suppose they be better trackers? I do NOT want a fully-trained druidess opposing us---especially after I've taken part in harming the boyfriend before this----would be better to seal her, and keep her unconscious." he sighed. "Or dead."

"Do so," Naga instructed, knowing how Konton reacted the first time Morrigan escaped, "With due speed."

The small, well-lit room had a comfortable sense to it, the plaster-stuccoed wall washed warm with ochre. Looking around, one could get an honest sense of who lived here. By the door, a sword lay gleaming in the corner, the leather hilt worn from years and years of abuse. Closer to the working station was a heavy besom, as well as a tall, oaken staff, two shovels, a rake, a pitchfork, wooden swords, and extra practice staves for anyone passing by. Her work station was situated in front of a large window looking to the west, and on the wall adjacent was a large closet filled with cloaks, a spare change of clothes, and additional weapons. Morrigan was well prepared for battle, that was for sure. The smell of herbs was pungent but fragrant, heavy with the scent of lavender, sage, myrrh and mugwort. For the most part, anything she needed was hung in bundles drying from the rafters; everything else was in one of the many jars crammed on the bookshelf. A bedroom could be discovered on the floor above, and in the earthern, dug-out basement below, another ritual working place, storage for canned goods, and dungeon.
It served multiple purposes, that was for sure.
Morrigan nodded to herself, tying the bags to her waist and patting them securely. Ok. Holy herbs, check. Dog repellent, check. Undead repellent, double check. Holy water sprinkle---check, and finally, last but not least....
....She smiled, grinding copious amounts of dragon's blood, copal, myrrh, frankincense and amber resins. Topped with a healthy addition of sandalwood, her spiritual powers would increase.
Now what about stones???? She started sorting through the gems she'd collected; surprisingly, she didn't have that many. She needed a diamond....But where would she find that? It was the best protective stone for this moment, with plenty of love and holy energy associated with it. Well, if not diamond....
"What about ruby and emerald?" she mused to herself, "Lapis, to protect my mind....Amethyst, to increase my spiritual power... Silver, to act as a conductor and to magnify the energies....Moonstone, of course, for the Goddess, since it's a druidess' stone..."
She went through all of her things, preparing as rapidly as she could. Her work room was a mess! She put on the gemstone-set jewelry as was appropriate, and removed her earrings to allow the energy to flow correctly. Over her third brow she wore the moonstone and lapis headband, already feeling her focus intensifying and her clarity increasing. She looked far too formal for her tastes. She hadn't touched any of this since Irien died....
"At least it's appropriate now," she sighed, "Irien, forgive me. Your memory is aways mine, and that will never pass. While I now hunt after a king, you were always the druid to my half. Bless me, beloved," she sighed, "Bless me so that I may save one where I could not save you."
The winds stirred. Looking out the window, she could see that a heavy fog was forming at the foot of the mountains, filling in the valley with clouds of grey. She had no time left here.
She left the building scattered and disorganized, the herbs spilt over the counters and onto the floor, the most potent of her things missing, and the front door swinging open in the wind. The sword was gone, as was the largest, strongest staff, sharpest dagger, and the most blessed cloak with the best camouflage.
She was on the move.