Saber examined her surroundings closely, her wary eyes scanning the strange room until she was certain that she really was alone. This place was unfamiliar to her eyes. It was not just the room she was referring to, the whole world around her felt alien and weird, as if there was something in the air, forewarning her of something. Pulling her readied hands away from her sword, she composed herself and tried to remember how she had come arrive at this curious room. The last things she recalled was the battle against her child, Mordred. She'd be fatally wounded in their duel, cleaved by her traitorous spawn. Things were hazy after that. Her eyes had been heavy, and she'd slipped in and out of consciousness. She did remember though that Gwain, her loyal knight, had helped her to the Lady of the Lake. They had needed to hide her sword; less nefarious powers acquire its sacred power. 
 
After that, she recalled falling into darkness. Swimming in the vast empty reaches of her

A tremendous clamour of howls and snarls filled the forest air that night. The campfire burned low, casting monstrous shadows into the night as the crowd of werewolves gathered around, feasting on the remains of their former knights-in-arms and snapping at their new wolfish brethren. There was no sign of regret or distaste among the recently turned. All they saw before them now was merely food. 
Watching her pack, Luna licked fresh blood from her white fur. The Dark Captain's arms had been a generous helping, enough to fill any hungry wolf. Bloody bones were all that remained now, along with some discarded scraps of plated armour. Perched on her haunches, Luna picked her gore-filled teeth with a finger bone, niggling out the remains of the Captain from her toothy grin. Finishing off the Dark Captain's leg was Sora, her fur coated in sticky redness as she chowed down on the delicious tissue within the knight's calve. Lifting her muzzle up from her meal, the reborn werewolf allowed

With the option to repent offered, the Demoness screeched. 'Never!'
As the demon launched itself at Latoria, the Archangel readied her spear. At the lest second, the creature spun, lashing out with her whip-like tail rather than her claws. Fortunately, Latoria was quick and easily parried aside the blow and those from her resulting claws. Twirling her spear, Latoria then brought it low, thrusting forward in a series of stabs, forcing the Demoness to retreating, hissing and snarling. Frustrated, the creature lunged, but Latoria caught her extended arm beneath her armpit and slashed upwards with her spear. The holy weapon passed through one side of the Demoness's left wing, slicing the flesh with ease. The Demoness screamed in agony as yellow flames sprouted from the severed winged limb, burning away it's flailing remains. Now, with one less wing, the Demoness dropped to the ground, immensely weakened by Latoria's cleansing fire. 
Above her, the Archangel lowered her spear, l

Lars lay dead on the forest floor as the world turned to night around him. His corpse grew cold, just one among the dozens that lay strewn across the forest floor. The skin of his body slowly turned pale as his cells broke down and his body grew rigid with rigour mortis. The wound in his stomach began to fester and stink as black blood and pus leaked out from the sliced flesh. The stench attracted flies, which quickly swarmed around the battlefield, feasting on the dead and laying their eggs within the bloated corpses. Their buzzing filled the air with a vile hum. As night drew closer, a thick fog swept across the field and drew away the flies, who fled before the sudden cold. Red eyes gleamed from the amidst the trees, eyes filled with hunger and possessing of starving mouths. The night's scavengers patiently awaited their turn to eat. A raucous cawing filled the air, and there came a fluttering of wings as a mob of ravens came upon the battlefield. Cackling, they descended upon the p

After a few minutes of desperate crawling, Lars collapsed; he simply didn’t have the strength to keep moving. Blood was still weeping from his stomach wound and his undergarments were now stained red with the stuff. Wet gore leaked from the cracks and rents in his white armour, flowing down the shiny surface and onto the damp earth. Lars was shivering and shaking, his teeth chattering as an alien coldness spread over his body. He couldn't move his hands or his legs any more; the life had left his limbs. 'Shit' whispered Lars. He should have just taken that fairy's deal, but he'd been too stubborn and prideful to accept help. Now it was too late. The fairy was gone and he could feel death creeping up on him. He wasn't scared, just ashamed. Ashamed in himself. The Enslaver's army had positioned itself in the Great Forest, who knew how many Dark Knights now lay hidden in these trees. He had to warn the Kingdom, otherwise the villages that surrounded the outskirts of the Fores

Rider, still recovering from the nausea that had come with her transformation, took in her surroundings. Distorted by the world around her, Rider instead relied on her other keen senses to gather a picture of events. The air seemed to crackle with raw, unbridled mana. The gorgon tried to remember where she was and how she gotten there, but her memories seemed to be locked behind some giant, mental wall. All she knew was that she had to find her master; a new master for herself, and soon. Sensing a presence behind her, Rider turned, to see the ghostly image of the Holy Grail appear in before her. Purifying light surrounded it, illuminating the museum room and bathing the emotionless Rider in its glory. But, as soon as it appeared, the grail faded away, leaving no trace of itself. But the message was clear to Rider. She had to find a new master quickly. Together they would participate in the Holy Grail war that was too come, and only then would she gain her one wish.
~
Just outside the h

Lavender travelled through the forest, desperately seeking out any object that could house her essence. Yet, to her despair and frustration, she could only see rows and rows of endless trees. Living beings, which she could not enter. As she searched, Lavender could feel her being slowly fading out of existence. Soon, she would be nothing. Fortunately, it seemed that the Gods held her in good regards, as the witch-essence finally spotted a peculiar glow emitting from behind a large section of thick undergrowth. Knowing that it must be something significant, Lavender compelled her shrinking form forward.
Phasing through the bushes, Lavender found herself in a small clearing, in the depths of the forest. A small circle of grass coated the floor here and sunlight streamed down from an opening in the canopy. Following the downward spiral of the sun's rays, Lavender caught sight of an unusually large stone, that sat in the middle of the clearing. It looked so out of place among the thou

In the form of the Majin, Lars frowned solemnly. This had not at all what he'd been expecting when he'd asked for an immortal body. But, as Shenron had said, he did have two wishes left. He could change this if he wanted to. Hesitantly, he raised a pink, gummy-like arm and stared at it. His flesh was so peculiar, so strange looking, it felt almost alien to him now. With only a thought, the pink arm started to stretch outwards, extending far beyond the usual length of his arm. Shocked and disgust by this, Lars propelled the arm to return to its normal length. Despite feeling somewhat sick, Lars then sent another signal to his arm. This time his bubble-gum hand split into two, dividing neatly down the centre of his palm. Then the fingers on his hand dissolved and reformed, all with just his own inner command. Returning his arm to normal, Lars was still creeped out by these unnatural changes to his body, but he couldn't help but admit that it was kind of cool to possess a body which

Forgotten and dying within the depths of the Great Forest and with only the moonlight for company, Lars looked back at his wounded arm. The creature had torn off a sizeable chunk of sinew and skin, but Lars could have sworn that the gaping wound in his flesh had been much larger just moments before. Furthermore, the flow of blood that had been cascading from the wound had all but stopped. Curious, he stared closely at his injured arm. To his great surprise, he found that the flesh was actually healing, and fast. Shredded and torn parts of his arm were reattaching themselves, muscles were sewing themselves back together at an extremely rapid rate. He'd never seen a healing process like this. As he watched, the chunk of flesh taken from his arm reformed itself. In addition, the gouges left by the creature's teeth were sealing themselves, until soon Lars's arm looked as good as new, baring only a set of faint indentures where the beast's fangs had made contact with the skin. 
Lars wa

Lars stood still for a long while as his brain mulled over all the possibilities that had been presented towards him. This day had certainly not gone as he'd expected, first he'd been killed, then he become a ghost and now he was standing before this giant, umm, wishing dragon. It had promised him three wishes though. Three whole wishes, that he could use for anything. Despite the allure of power, Lars's good intentioned nature immediately led him to consider how he could use these wishes to protect his homeland, the Kingdom. For every second he stood here, the Enslaver's army was drawing nearer to the walls of Kingdom City. It was only a matter of time before the war reached this place. Deep in thought, Lars glanced up at the dragon, Shenron, who floated above him. The creature was truly immense, its long green coils stretched in and around the ruined museum and up into the darkened sky. It seemed unperturbed by the possibility of war, Lars doubted that such mortal conflicts even