Here it is, the long awaited Slate 11. Well, I doubt it was really long awaited by anyone but me, and maybe Dibbka. Anyway, this happens right after Dibbka 10. Enjoy.

The room was suddenly flooded with light. It wasn't particularly bright light, but anything would seem bright after the utter blackness the room was shrouded in moments ago. Dibbka, Slate, and Kirsta found themselves no longer in the small circular room they had been waiting in, but in a long, lavish banquet hall. Torches guttered along the walls every few mentics, and the light they gave off was reflected from many ornate decorations on the table and sitting about the room. Shadows danced and played as the torches flickered. The three found themselves seated along one side of the table. On the other side was seated a large black figure.

The figure rose slowly to its feet, making a great show of being in no hurry. Dibbka whispered something under his breath that Slate barely heard.

"Aah'Zaergo..."

The figure spoke. "Yes, my brother, it is I, Aah'Zaergo. What a turn of fortune that I should find you here in my new castle in this strange world."

"How did you...?" Dibbka let the question trail off.

"Get here? You know as much about that as I do, dear brother. And before you ask, I do not know how to get back. I'm sure you must be sick with worry about your subjects. Ah, I can see from that scowl that I am correct. And who might your friends be?"

During the conversation, Slate had been carefully studying this new danger. He was rather surprised to find that this dark figure greatly resembled Dibbka, except he was black instead of blue, and where Dibbka radiated an aura of calm and peace, this monster burned with hate.

Dibbka replied to Aah'Zaergo while Slate continued his study. "This is Slate Traval, and the girl is called Kirsta."

"You have some most interesting friends. They have no fur, save for that small bit on their heads, and they are much too small. I would assume these are 'humans.' Why would you want to ally yourself with such small and weak beings?" Aah'Zaergo seemed on the verge of laughter.

Dibbka himself looked rather worried. "You should know better than to judge power based on appearances."

Aah gestured nonchalantly. "Of course, of course. They will be dealt with as necessary, as will you. But first, the feast is prepared."

Shades materialized about the room carrying platters and trays. As they approached the table and began setting the dishes down, Kirsta screamed and tried to crawl backwards into her chair. Dibbka felt the bile rise in his throat. Slate remained disturbingly quiet. The trays were covered in all manner of gore. Blood filled the shallow dishes and spilled onto the table. Large hunks of raw, rotting meat lay everywhere. A few chucks were obviously limbs or heads, but most of the pieces were mercifully impossible to identify.

Aah licked his lips hungrily. "Please, have all you want." With that the vampire dug in.

Kirsta spent the meal curled into a ball in her chair, staring at her knees and desperately trying to block out the smells coming from the table. Slate stared straight ahead, apparently concentrating on something. Dibbka resolved not to allow his brother any sort of edge, and so watched his brother eat the entire meal. Every bite made him want to vomit, but he managed to retain his compusure throughout the bloody feast.

Finally Aah wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back, motioning to the shades. The table was cleared quickly, and a tall glass brimming with thick red liquid was set in front of each of them.

"Please, have a drink," Aah said. "It only wine, alas." He smiled and took a sip. "It's quite delicious."

None of the three moved to touch a glass. Aah sighed and finished his. "Very well, now that the feast is over, it's time to get down to business. Dibbka, my brother, tell me what you know of our transportation to this place, and what you have learned of this place since you arrived."

"What makes you think I'll tell you anything-"

"Because I will harm these two if you don't tell me." Aah cut him off.

Dibbka glanced sideways, as if to check on them, as if just the threat might have hurt them. Kirsta had calmed down a little. She was looking around the room carefully, but still had her arms wrapped around her knees. Slate was still staring into space, and Dibbka was surprised to realize he was shaking slightly. Then he noticed that Slate was sweating profusely, and the pendant was glowing brighter than ever before, even during the new moon.

Slate turned his head just enough to see dibbka out of the corner of his eye. "It's feeding off him," he said, jerking his head at Aah. "It's getting stronger."

"What have we here?" Aah's voice echoed loudly in the room. "What an interesting pendant. Perhaps I should take a look at it."

Dibbka lunged to his feet. "No, you don't know what you are doing!"

Kirsta, upon realizing what was about to happen, threw herself from her chair into Slate, wrapping her arms protectively about him. Aah raised one of his hands, and as he did so, the pendant also raised into the air. He then pulled his hand toward himself, and the pendant followed, straining as it drew the thin chain it hung on taut.

The chain snapped with a tiny ring.

The black aura flared around Slate, seeming to draw darkness from the very shadows in the room. Slate burst to his feet, flinging Kirsta across the room. She slammed into a wall with a sickening crunch. Dibbka's chair tipped over, depositing the buffalo on the floor. Slate's sword was in hand moments later, and then the table was hewn in two, the two pieces landing on the floor with a loud crash.

Slate stared at Aah, his eyes flashing with fire. "I want your power." His voice was barely more than the roar of flames.

Aah stepped back and flung his hands in front of his face, hurling a cascade of shadow bolts into Slate's body. Each one was absorbed by the black aura, causing it to gain intensity. The myriad shades around the room descended upon Slate, and his form was lost in a black globe. Shrieks and screams came from the darkness, none of them sounding human. Aah'Zaergo began muttering syllables, obviously starting a spell of some power.

Dibbka ignored the fight for the moment and rushed over to Kirsta. She lay against the wall, her head cracked open and her arm twisted obscenely around. A large pool of blood was beginning to form around her. Cradling her head in his lap, Dibbka began chanting a healing litany.

A loud roar made Dibbka look to the fight. Slate was visible again, and the remains of the shades were slowly desolving into the floor. Slate was pushing the tip of his sword against a force field around Aah, and it was slowly sinking in. Aah's mutterings grew louder, and suddenly several thick black tentacles grew from the shadows on the floor and wrapped around Slate, pulling him away from the black buffalo vampire and down to the floor. Slate growled and struggled while Aah, obviously shaken, telekinetically replaced the pendant around his neck. The pendant flared blue, and ever so slowly, the black aura began to fade. Aah'Zaergo slumped to the ground, breathing raggedly.

Dibbka turned his attention back to Kirsta. He turned all his magical power to his healing spell, but in the end, all he could do was slow the bleeding to a trickle and set the shattered bones in her arm. He immediately ran to the table and tore off several strips of the table cloth, using the to bandage her head and arm as best he could. He looked up as he finished, noticing that Aah was staring at him, hatred and fear in his eyes.

"What is he?" Aah breathed, his voice full of awe.

Dibbka took a deep breath and stood up. "I'll answer none of your questions until we talk. We are your prisoners, of that I have no doubt. We cannot escape from here for now. However, we will be treated well, or you will gain nothing from us."

"Very well. I haven't the strength to fight you now, but my gaurds will stop you if you run. But be warned-"

Now it was Dibbka's turn to interrupt. "Don't worry. I know just how much your word is worth, monster. And a final warning, if she dies, he will kill you."

Aah gestured tiredly, and a shade materialized. "It will take you somewhere you can rest. When I have recuperated, we will talk more."

The shade floated over to Slate's prone form and began to drag him toward a door by his hair. Slate never released his grip on his sword, and the pendant never lost intensity. Dibbka carefully picked up Kirsta's broken body and followed.

Slate was burning. His body floated in a neverending pool of flowing magma, roasting the skin from his bones and boiling his blood. He felt the pain would never end, when a huge form drew itself up from the depths of molten rock and loomed over him. The demon spread its wings, holding Dibbka and Kirsta in its hands. Its mouth cracked open, revealing jagged teeth and a flaming tongue. Bringing Kirsta up to its mouth, the demon wrapped its tongue around her body, sighing as it made contact. Slate could see her face in perfect detail, contorted with pain, tears streaming down her face and evaporating as they fell through the air. She screamed Slate's name over and over. The demon finally released her, allowing her to fall through the air as it brought Dibbka to its mouth. Slate sludged over to where Kirsta landed in the lava, pulling her limp form to his chest. Her eyes cracked open as she began to be consumed by flames. And Slate knew, staring into her eyes, that she was blind.

Slate awoke, his skin burning even though he was dripping sweat. He glanced around the small room he found himself in, blinking in the darkness. He finally got used to it, and he saw Dibbka kneeling over Kirsta a few feet away. Pushing himself to his feet, Slate stumbled over to her.

"What happened?" he whispered. "Where are we?"

Dibbka looked up, a bit startled. "We are in Aah'Zaergo's dungeon. And as for what happened, well, perhaps we had better wait on that."

Slate put his hand on Dibbka's shoulder, causing the buffalo to look at him directly. "What happened, Dibbka? How did she get hurt?"

"I'm sorry," Dibbka started. "It wasn't your fault. Aah ripped the pendant off of you, and the demon took control. You can't blame yourself."

Pushing Dibbka slightly to the side, Slate stared down at Kirsta. He fell to his knees and put his hand on her face. She was ashen and pale, and her breathing was shallow. A bloody bandage wrapped her head, and her arm was wrapped tightly to her abdomen. A tear rolled down Slate's cheek.

"What did I do?"

"She hit the wall pretty hard," Dibbka said. "Her arm's broken pretty badly, and the head wound is very serious. If we can't get her out of here, I don't know how she'll do. My healing magic seems inhibited by this place. Slate." Dibbka waited until Slate looked at him. "Without help, she will die."