[center][h1][color=lightblue]Donnie[/color][/h1] Word Count: 538 EXP: (14/40) + 13 (encounter reward + self-service reward) + 1 (word count) = [b]28/40[/b] [/center] A lot happened. The Ent died, Jak shoved its spirit into Daxter of all people ([i]about time[/i] he started pulling his weight around here, Donnie figured, though like with Blazermate he was worried about the obvious risks), and after some banter, they all hopped into the van to travel to the next objective. The second root of the Qliphoth. What Donnie found interesting was that the bird bound to V could count as a demon. Usually, they were powered by visible Fel magic, but Donnie knew a bit about the arcane from his enchanting work, and he could detect no visible trace from V or his demons. The metaphysics had to be different. It was the only explanation. More concerning, though, was V's talk of the "underworld," like it was an alternate dimension with its own ecosystem. The Twisting Nether was the closest his world had to that, and it wasn't anything quite as complex as that, especially when the Nether's demon-making abilities turned out to be powered by Sargeras using Argus as a living battery, and Argus was [i]dead[/i] now. Clearly, Nero and Donnie had not been thinking of the same demons when he tried to show off his demon-slaying credentials. He doubted that [i]these[/i] demons were originally space aliens, for one. Which meant that he had jumped in blind. Excellent. This was a bad move. In any event, as he waited in the van, he ate a travel ration and some water, and then walked up to Nico's shop, counting out a sizeable pile of gold and asking, "What can I get for a hundred gold coins? Do you have anything that would help a melee fighter like me?" [hr] [i]Dammit, I can't jump out of a moving car![/i] Donnie thought as the winged beings downed the flying machine above them. [i]I should fly up there and stop them, but I can't because I'm in this van![/i] His heart sank as they ended up at some kind of building with the words "Police Station" written on it. There had were some survivors in there, and they had held off the hordes outside for some time, if they were still alive by this point... Wait, was Blazermate doing what he thought she was? ...Yes. Yes she [i]was[/i] in fact making the undead dance for her entertainment as a method of disaster relief. He turned to Blazermate, somewhat bemused, but a bit taken aback by the whole thing. "Yes, we should check in there. It's not just a matter of finding new blood as it is rescuing survivors. We have a teleporter, we can send them to the Land of Adventure, and from there to World 1-1. It's safer over there." In any event, he figured it was better to let the survivors come and investigate than just run up the doors of a heavily-fortified police station filled with jumpy, terrified defenders and refugees. They'd probably think he was infected or something anyway. He figured the dancing zombies would be enough of a change of pace to get them to come looking. Unless, of course, everyone else moved in, in which case he'd obviously get out of the van like everyone else.