Status check.

Lazarus, Assassin, Level 89

Health 4 per cent (maximum 4 per cent)

Valentine checked Lazarus' status anxiously for the third time in ten minutes. He was waiting for the Annazzosh to overcome the nauk dzi vras in Lazarus' body.

"When?" Valentine asked the Witch. "How much longer do we have to wait?"

He seriously could not wait any longer. The barely conscious gate keeper next to him had lost a lot of body mass and had become gaunt to the point of being skeletal. His unhealthy discoloured pockmarked skin had dried out becoming taut and papery. Valentine could also clearly see Lazarus' rib cage and collar bones. They were jutting out from his body as if trying to escape from some unnamed horror. Even his unsightly hands were scary looking; they resembled bones wrapped in thin dry parchment.

Lazarus was literally decomposing before his eyes.

The Witch came forward and placed her hand on the Assassin's forehead. He moaned deliriously. His skin was hot to the touch. Lazarus was burning up with a high fever. A piece of skin stuck to her hand, ripping off the Assassin's brow when she removed it. Valentine stared in morbid fascination at the putrefying flesh underneath trying hard not to retch.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry man," the Thief moaned. "Simtrixx is seriously sick."

The Witch grimaced and wiped her hands on her cloak. The dead skin rubbed off but the strong putrid smell lingered.

"Not much longer, fair one. Hisss fever isss still going up."

"Its way up. I may not know much but I do know that his current temperature is too hot to be a normal fever. It's dangerous," Valentine countered worriedly. "And Simtrixx has just lowered his maximum Health again."

The Witch raised her eyebrows in confusion. What was a 'Simtrixx'? Was it a new foe? She did not understand the Ghost Lord's language or follow his logic.

"If he dies now, he would be a vegetable Hero," the Thief raised his voice in frustration. "What's the point of logging on then?"

"I am ssorry. I do not undersstand, Ghosst Lord."

"Never mind," muttered Valentine. The Witch was an NPC who only existed in-game. He should not take it out on her.

"We can't wait any longer," Valentine decided. He could not take the risk, not when they were so close to success. "Kalthu! Is the brew ready?"

"Yes. I'm cooling it."

"Bring it over now."

"But it's still hot."

"I don't care! I'm gonna give Laz some."

The Witch and the Warlord exchanged looks. They had to prevent the blond gate keeper from administering the antidote too soon.

"Pleasse Ghosst Lord, you musst wait a little longer," she caught Valentine's arm, holding him back.

"Don't touch me with that hand!!" the Thief yelled automatically jumping back in shock and disgust. The Witch had touched him with the hand which moments ago had touched Laz's decaying forehead. The next instant, Valentine hung his head in shame. "Damn it." He hated the way he had reacted. Laz was his best friend. He felt so emotionally conflicted.

The Witch recoiled at his sudden outburst but bravely stood her ground. "It isss not yet time."

"When? WHEN Witch?!! Just look at him!" Valentine was beside himself. "When it is too late? When Laz is beyond help and useless?" The belligerent Thief changed to an aggressive fighting stance. He was ready to tackle anyone who came in his way. No one was going to prevent him from giving Sharak's antidote to Lazarus now. "I've had it!"

The Witch signalled urgently. They had to wait for the Annazzosh induced fever to peak. If the dark one drank the potion too soon, it would only be partially effective. Then when the time was right, there would not be enough of the antidote to counter the Bello's unique poison. They could not make more. Even if they could gather the other ingredients again, there was only one Lifestone.

The Bello moved at lightning speed to catch the agitated gate keeper with a tentacle.

"Hey! Put me down!"

"Bello," said the Bello reasonable. "Bello, bel-lo?"

"I don't know what you are saying but whatever it is, I don't agree! You are in league with the Witch! Laz needs the antidote NOW!" Valentine struggled in vain. "KALTHU!!" he bellowed.

"Pleasse Ghosst Lord. We musst wait. If the dark one drinksss the brew too ssoon ..."

Suddenly, Lazarus let out a loud despairing moan. His silver eyes were wide open and staring blankly ahead. What he saw was anyone's guess.

Everyone froze.

"Laz?" Valentine called out. What was wrong? He had a sudden urge to check Laz's health status once more. Did it drop again?

Before the Thief could start struggling out of the Bello's clutches, Lazarus started spasming violently. His body convulsed, contorting painfully as his muscles strained and pulled. His teeth clenched, grinding together painfully. Thankfully he did not bite his tongue.

"Aarrrgghhh! Ughh, G-gods!!" spluttered Lazarus. All he could do was endure the trial the best he could, for this was what it was, his fevered brain told him. The orc realm was just a big elaborate sadistic orc trial. It is not real, it will be over soon. It is just in his head. It is not real!!

"Let me go! He is having a seizure!" yelled Valentine. "I'm warning you Bello, if Laz dies now I will destroy all of you!! Every single one of you!! I'm not kidding!"

The dark one's seizure was what the Witch was waiting for. It signalled the climax of the poisons' battle in the dark one's body.

"Now! Warlord, the antidote now! The Annazzzzossh's fever hasss peaked."

The Bello released Valentine to reach for Lazarus. Her human needed her.

Immediately, Valentine took charge.

"You! Turn him onto his side. Make sure he can breathe!" the Thief barked authoritatively at the Bello.

"The rest of you, back off ..." Valentine lowered his voice warningly, "... right now." He was not going to take no for an answer. The high level Thief had had enough of the dithering NPCs.

"Bello!! What are you waiting for?!"

"Bello?" she asked startled.

"HELP LAZ NOW!" the frantic Ghost Lord roared making the Bello wiggle her tentacles in anxiety. The big bad poisonous final Boss knew better than to disobey when a Ghost Lord was furious, didn't Lazarus cut her down when he was angry earlier? This human had a long shiny sharp knife too. It hung on his hip and she was positive he knew how to use it. She did not want to be cut up again.

By the time the Bello had rolled Lazarus onto his side securing him gently in position, Kalthu had brought over the cooling brew.

"Bello," she said softly. She cushioned the Assassin's head against her soft body. If only his body would loosen up, the poor human was still rigid, his muscles straining in seizure.

"Arghh, ughh ..." Lazarus groaned in agony as his body twitched again. He jerked and bucked uncontrollably as his muscles locked and unlocked painfully. His hands grabbed whatever he could. He squeezed the purple tentacles cradling him and pressed his head hard against the monster supporting him.

"Myu-uutt." The Bello's large luminous eyes watered. The human's desperate grip was strong and steel-like in his fevered throes.

After a few torturous minutes, Lazarus relaxed. "Aaaahhh ..." he sighed in relief at the brief respite.

Quickly Valentine ladled out a portion and poured it down the Assassin's throat.

"Gakk!!" Lazarus choked resisting the scalding hot soup. Luckily the Bello reacted quickly to block his flailing hands or the ladle would have been knocked away. When his body relaxed again, the hybrid loosely secured the human's hands, legs and propped his body in a relatively comfortable sitting position.

"Drink you idiot!! Drink or I'll kill you myself!"

"Gakk! Gaaahh!"

Valentine scoped another ladle-full forcing his friend to drink. He prayed silently to the gaming Gods for the brew to work.

"How much does he have to drink?"

"All of it my Lord. He musst drink every lasst drop of the Annazzzzossh's antidote."

"Everything? Seriously?" Valentine asked in surprise.

"Yesss Ghosst Lord. The antidote isss potent but sso isss the Annazzzzossh. It isss only half a pot. We musst enssure that the dark one isss fully cured. Thisss isss hisss only chance."

"Why is Laz's condition so much worse than that Vogeruk stallion? The unicorn did not deteriorate so fast."

"That iss becausse the Vogeruk isss mosstly bone. Alsso the nauk dzzi vrasss which the Annazzzzossh attacksss firsst isss only found in the Vogeruk'sss magical horn not itsss entire body, whereasss the dark one ..."

"I get it," Valentine sighed in comprehension. Poor Laz, his whole body was saturated with the Vogeruk's poison. No wonder he was getting it so bad.

"But in the end, it will all be the ssame. Thosse infussed with the Annazzzzossh die when their body isss gone. It isss a horrible way to die," she surmised.

"It sure is," muttered Valentine as he kept feeding his listless friend.

"Make ssure he drinksss it all before hisss next sseizzure or he will ssurely perissh."

"What? You mean there is a window for the cure too? What the hell? I don't think he can handle another one."

"Val?" Lazarus croaked.

"Drink. Don't talk. You have to drink everything before your next seizure or you'll die."

"Next seizure? Gods no," he said in denial. "I can't ..."

"Then finissh the brew dark one. You will be well again after it isss all gone."

Without another word Lazarus reached weakly for the brimming ladle. He did not want to endure another seizure, he could not. Valentine steadied Lazarus' faltering hand but did not let go of the ladle. He did not want to risk spilling any of the precious soup.

Lazarus drank slowly, swallowing painfully. Although the hot liquid burned his mouth, he did not stop. The antidote tasted like nothing he had ever drunk before. It had a strange syrupy taste, a mix of sickly sweet honey and ripe sour berries. Yet there was a tangy salty crunchy element in it. The crushed Lifestone, he thought. It probably helped thickened the brew making it almost a stew.

What made it hard to drink was the strong terrible aftertaste of rusted iron. The taste of vampires' blood filled his mouth. It made him think of the coagulated blood on Sharak's numerous dying experiments. Lazarus retched, squeezing his eyes shut. He tried hard to ignore the building nausea. Drink. Gotta drink. Do not throw up, he told himself sternly. It's all in my head. It's not real. This is it. I've got to beat this.

When he had consumed the pots contents, he heaved a sigh of relief. He had managed to keep it down. That was a feat in itself. After all the torture he had gone through, it better work. Lazarus collapsed back into the Bello's embrace. He was exhausted.

Valentine peered closely at Lazarus' face almost touching him.

"I don't see anything different."

The Thief noted that the Assassin's blotchy skin had darkened to an ugly purple and a thin milky film had covered his exotic silver irises making him almost blind. Lazarus looked scary, as scarily authentic as the zombies he had seen in numerous apocalyptic movies.

"Patience, fair one, patience."

Lazarus batted Valentine away. He didn't like the close scrutiny and invasion of personal space. "You're too close. B-back off ..."

"But I want to see ..."

Suddenly Lazarus belched heaving painfully, his skeletal hands clutched at his bony chest. Stinky bad zombie breath blasting out at Valentine. The Thief choked, covering his nose and mouth with his hands and backing away hastily.

"O'kay, o'kay! Don't have to throw up on me. Geez!"

"Bello," said the Boss pushing Lazarus gently to lean against her. She made shooing motions to the other human. "Bello, bello." She was not afraid of him anymore because he had calmed down. She realised that Ghost Lords were only dangerous when they were angry.

"Ahhhhh." Lazarus fell listlessly back into the monster's embrace and closed his eyes. He was so tired. So very tired. He did not notice when he passed out.

"Hey! What happened?" Valentine frowned worriedly at his unconscious friend. "Is this normal? Should I wake him up?"

"Let him resst, my Lord. I think the dark one deservesss it." Her gaze softened as she contemplated the quiet Assassin. "Jusst for a moment."

"Bello," the Bello agreed whole heartedly tightening her coils around her half-decayed human possessively.

"But ..."

"Sshhhhh Ghosst Lord ... ssee?"

Valentine blinked and rubbed his eyes. He could not believe what he was seeing.

Something was happening. A diffused white light with multi-coloured sparkly dust motes glowed from Lazarus. It started at the scar on his chest and spread slowly to cover his whole body. Valentine gasped. Yes! YES!! Now this is what I'm talking about!

The Assassin's discoloured torn skin mended, knitting together miraculously. His ugly wounds and gaping sores closed, forming thick scars which thinned and faded away. The numerous bruises disappeared rapidly allowing his mended skin to regain its healthy glow. Finally, Lazarus' skeletal frame fleshed out restoring his original lean muscled physique.

It was evident that the gate keeper was healing.

Valentine gulped emotionally when Lazarus inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. The Assassin opened his clear silver eyes to sit up on his own. He ran a hand through his long once-again shiny hair to get it out of his flawless face. Patting the Bello in an assuring manner, Lazarus turned to look alertly around him. He was greeted with the smiling faces of Valentine, the Witch, the Warlord and the Bello.

"Bello, bel-lo. Chu-uuu~" the Boss crooned in a soft sultry voice. The horrible Vogeruks stink was gone. "Chu-uuuu~"

Lazarus, Assassin, Level 90

Health 100 per cent, Energy 100 per cent

"Hey."

"Idiot," Valentine greeted his friend, his voice cracking. "Welcome back."

Lazarus replied with a crooked half smile. He sighed and stretched. Standing up effortlessly he assessed his avatar's body. He was in full control. Sight, hearing, smell, touch and taste everything was perfect. It had been a long time since he felt this good. He flexed his muscles experimentally and broke into a boyish grin.

"It's good to be back."