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Joran's body was truly still, besides the shallow breathing. The sedation has done its job. And the operation, so to speak, was commencing.

The mind of Joran would be feeling as if in a dark cave, not having the ability to move at all. But that's like how he's being now. Laying on a table, in an unknown place... nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide.

For some reason, with the said operation, Joran just laid.

What was the operation about... and what are these contracts being made?

Well, Moonblade would need to be conscious for the next part of the procedure. However, the next part would take some time, as the two men began work on a potion of sorts off to the back of the room. Several moments would pass before Decruda would speak, turning from the table over at the two bodies, giving a simple instruction to the woman who watched.

"Wake him up."

Hopefully, she would know that he was referring to Moonblade. And as for how she would do it? Well, it really didnt matter all that much, as long as he was conscious.

~Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Twack.

"Hey, wake up."

Silver's emerald eyes creped open. He first turned his head slowly towards the woman who had smacked him upside the head, and then towards the the man who he was now connected to. Moonblade was quite groggy, but he was awake and wasn't really going anywhere. Especially with someone else's life flowing through his veins and the arm that held him still.

"....what?"

Silver blinked twice, staring at the putrid looking substance. He didn't exactly have a lot of confidence in what he was being handed, but his thought process wasn't exactly on par right now. Without giving it more thought, he downed the potion in one hearty gulp. The liquid chilled so thoroughly that it actually burned as it went down, but he'd do it without fuss.

Oh, right... the other guy. Wouldnt want him to die as well, now do we? Needed to question him and all that.

"You may begin." Decruda spoke to the 'surgeon' as he turned around to grab something off of the shelf. Something relatively large and rock-like, a little larger than his closed hand.

The examiner of course, would be moving relatively quickly, severing the blood vessels shared between the two men and putting them back into their bodies, and hopefully back into place properly with those dirty hands.

Now then, back to the... operation? Ritual? Whatever.

The potion Moonblade would injest was very similar to that of a mage's 'ascension' to lichdom, though its purpose was somewhat different. The spells cast upon it slightly altered; curse, false life, chill blood, enervation, permanency. The negative energy would spread, corrupting his body in a massive wave, even transferring to charge his loosely strewn about red clothes, tainting them a deep purplish colour. He should be dead, but he wasnt.

The potent negative energy which would be in the potion itself would indeed be enough to kill the body like that of a lich's brew. However, instead of animation of dead, a curse and false life placed upon it would give Moonblade a cursed life. He would be living a half life. And just as his body and soul would be weakened, body as if it was dying, Decruda would come back from the back of the laboratory, stone in hand as he would cast a spell, or rather, two.

Normally, a phylactery is crafted to house the spirit of a lich with the use of a magic jar and permanency spell placed upon it. However, magic jar worked for a caster. Instead, Moonblade's soul would be the one placed into the makeshift phylactery.

Soul bind, false life, permanency; Even as his body would die and be given a false life, the weakened state would draw his soul out and into the 'stone', trapping it within. Meanwhile, the surgeon of course, would be opening up Moonblade's chest. As in splitting his rib cage open. Not like he could really feel it or anything.

Decruda handed the stone to the surgeon as it slowly began to change colour. Going from a dry and dusty grey colour to a light pink, slowly getting redder and redder.

The surgeon of course, took it in his hands and did something quite odd with it. Removing the heart out of Moonblade's body, he would replace it with the red stone before closing the body back up. A stone which wasnt so hard anymore. A stone which moved on its own, beating slowly. A stone which actually looked more like a heart than a stone at the moment.

A demon's heart is quite a powerful magic item. Given time, removed from the body, it transforms, turning into a rock-like state. Silver Moonblade would have his heart changed for that of a demon's.

Blood would be pumped in the cursed body as Moonblade would once again find himself in control of it. As for the real heart, having been removed, the surgeon gave it to the man in charge. Who in turn handed it off to the woman.

"I'll leave that for you to keep." he told her. Essentially, she was entrusted with Silver Moonblade's life and soul, which he had signed off to live. The heart wouldnt die; even without being attached to the body, even without blood moving through it, it still beat, and when the remaining electrical memory signals in it dies, it would continue to beat.

So what the hell did that make Silver Moonblade? A creature which lived a cursed life.

His body would inherit some undead traits. His pain tolerance would increase dramatically, most of the nerves dying, he would still be able to feel pain, but it wouldnt bother him so much. However, at the same time, his sense of taste and smell would be dulled. Something one takes for granted wouldnt seem so bad of a pay-off, but imagine where everything you eat tastes like cardboard unless it was smothered in a layer of salt.

His false life would also make him relatively unaffected to negative energy, though positive energy would still affect him normally like a living being, healing him if exposed to it. Also, his body would grow extremely resistant to diseases, though toxins and poisons would still affect him normally.

However, there was one catch; that which would make him forever seperated from the world, something which drove him to do evil. The demon's heart.

Moonblade's body, though inhabited by himself, was also home for the demon's heart. Every day, to retain his 'humanity', that being his ability to think and control the body properly, he would have to ingest a pint, or five hundred milliletres of living blood. Similar to that of a Vampire. A recently deceased body will not suffice, it would have to be provided by a living host.

If he did not abide by this 'hunger', every hour after twenty four hours, he would begin to feel the craving, stronger every time. For every hour afterwards, he would have to consume double the amount, growing exponentially. One hour afterwards, he would need to consume one litre of blood. Two hours, two litres, three hours, four litres, and so on.

However, if he did not ingest blood for thirty hours, the demon would awaken. His body would be taken over, and he would not be the one in control of it. All he would be able to do was watch as the mindless beast of his body would go wild in a feeding frenzy, unsatiated until it would have consumed one hundred litres of blood. Only at such a time would he be back in control. One hundred litres of blood was a lot. Over twenty people's worth of liquid life.

The fact that many diseases were carried though the blood would be of little consequence, for his high resistance to disease would keep him from getting sick or contracting such deseases. Also, his magically charged blood would once again be metabolized, as the demon's heart would feed off of it naturally, demons being creatures naturally heavily involved with the arcane.

And Decruda would tell Moonblade of the stipulations very simply. This was what he wanted, to live; but this was the price to pay. He could never truely die.



((Author's note: For the sake of RPing purposes, I dont give a s**t whether or not this twisted DnD referenced combination would even actually work. It does, because I say so.))

Was that fear she just shown? Maybe it wasn't, but for some reason, his body just laid there with Moonblade. His mind was trying to find itself in the duration of the operation. Moonblade having consciousness is sort of giving him some consciousness as well, but there's nothing he could do at this point and time.

Another groan comes from his body, this time, it was more of a slight chortle than a groan. The element of earth, he couldn't reach, but for some reason... it felt as if the ground was shifting in his mind.

And while she was speaking, the surgeon, being in such close proximity to both me, would have simply stuck his hands into the man once again, taking initiative to the situation. Performing two motions. The first one, shifting one of his C4 vertabrae so that it would paralyze his body from the shoulders down, and the second one to tie a knot in his intestines. The second one was just because the author thinks it would be funny. And then the surgeon would take his dirty hands back out of the man's body as he recieved an order from Decruda.

"Take him to the interogator." the mastermind said as he pressed one of the drugged needles into the back of the man's head to inject the neurotoxins directly into the affected areas to keep him under.

And so, as he examiner and surgeon would begin to push the metal cart carrying Joran's body to some other dark place, where supposedly someone known as the interogator would be found, Decruda would go in a different direction.

"Walk." He instructed Moonblade as his fingers would curl to tell him to follow.

And so begins the brainwashing.

"Do you know why you are here?" Moonblade didnt need to answer that, it was a rhetorical question, "Because you are weak. And the weak will always strive to change that, to overthrow the strong, to replace the strong. What you were, was nothing. What you are now, is just a little more than nothing."

"This is your second chance in life, but even then, you are of little improvement." Sure, Moonblade may have been made tougher, but in the end, all he really still had were his old skills and abilities.

"Do you know why you are weak? It is because of those things you call 'friends', those you call 'family'. Those people close to you who hold you back, who keep you down; people like your former teammates. They are fakes, false pretenders. People who see the potential in you, but for their own sake, keep you down. Why? Because they are also weak.

"Your existence to them serves little more than as a cover, a way for them to look at you and tell themselves that they are better than you. A way for them to assert themselves as being someone not on the bottom of the food chain. That is what you mean to them. They dont care about you, they only care about themselves."

They went through the dark corridors and into a large open room as Decruda shuffed off to the side to grab something, turning around and tossing a polearm of sorts to the man. It resembled a spear with a wicked curved blade sprouting from the base of the original blade, perpendicular to the haft and main blade of the weapon. The weapon itself was oddly lightweight, and the blades shone with a razor keeness. Obviously, it was somewhat magical or enchaned in a way.

"Crush these people, bring me their heads, and you will become strong."

The task itself shouldnt be too hard for Moonblade to accomplish. He should know the people he was to go after; know their strengths, their weaknesses, their personalities. And what then when he destroyed them?

"These people exist to keep you down. They are the shackles that bind you. They personify your weakness. Remove them, and you remove your weaknesses."

So, it begins... For some reason or another, Joran's body has been taken away from the original operating room. The Interrogator would have to ask Joran questions or whatever the case it was to the man, woman, boy, girl... it's thought the picture is given.

So, now, he's incapable of moving his body below his neck, but still... his body will continue its involuntary passages of a beating heart, and breathing lungs... well, what seems to be a beating heart and breathing lungs at this point and time.

What's the real situation Decruda has with Joran? He did nothing to her... least, not to the author's knowledge. Maybe another male in the area was just a bit too much, and possibly there was a report to how he has gotten there, but to any case. Joran was taken away... and placed into another dark place. For some reason, Joran couldn't wake up.