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The black, lifeless trees swayed back and 1. forth, their barren branches crept out into the open road like monstrous fingers. Unidentifiable creatures made eerie noises and sounds that 2. echoed into the lonely Doomwood scenery. The glaring sun was in ascendancy, 3. shining its golden rays on what would've been a 4. light-less world. As to where the road 5. entailed, no one was sure as thick, dense mist fogged the distance.

"Even in the brightness of day, the blasphemous powers of old are strong here." 6. murmured one inquisitor as his grip on his crowned silver crucifix tightened.

"Let not such thoughts intimidate you, Inquisitor. Our faith must not falter if we are to succeed", 6. spoke Jeanne, leading a party of ten.

They continued to wade in the never ending mist until there came an nerve wrecking silence. The wind was gone. The trees themselves seemed to have been suspended in animation. The entire road ceased to move.

They halted for a moment, but went further, this time their hand rested upon the hilts of their weapons. The deeper they went, the heavier the air felt. The gloomy atmosphere was very nauseating. Every step had an awful added weight, that from a knight's perspective was as if they were walking on quick sand. The previous silence was now replaced by a heavy, deep, humming vibration.

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Jeanne extended her arm before the party, signaling them to halt once again.

"They come."

Soon, tiny rustling of fallen leaves and breaking of nearby branches were heard from both sides of the road. They felt the ground move and up heave. The air of freshly dug grave earth clogged their nostrils.

"They" were coming closer.

Jeanne eyed one of the Inquisitors, and immediately he pulled out a scroll.

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With a few chants, he waved his fingers 1. unto the air. A globe of fire formed between his hands which he grasped and 2. plunged it into the dry earth. Soon the ground heated and let out white puffs of smoke from every crack and pocket available. After a few seconds, the intensity grew to the point the earth sizzled and rumbled from beneath and geysers of fire erupting from the ground.

Moments later, pygmy sized ghouls clawed out of the 3. ground charred and scorched. They went towards the party, shambling and grumbling to themselves. But before 4. they did, the crumbled to ashes, incinerated from the hot flames.

Three of them, however, survived and rushed towards Jeanne. 5. She quickly drew her katana zipping past them smoothly and sent their heads rolling in one precise stroke. One lunged at her from behind but she gave it a mouthful of her steel fist and knocked it into the ground, wriggling like a worm. She then stomped the creature's frail bulbous head with her boot heel, effectively dispatching it.

"The heretic is expecting us, Captain", said an inquisitor.

"We have lost the element of surprise. In turn, we must storm his base of operations with utmost severity. We must kill him as soon as possible."

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"However, the necromancer has with him a powerful collection of tomes."

"Worry not. I will shoulder what nefarious sorcery he possesses."

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Varhaedil hastily prepared the sacrifices. His skeletal minions dragged three children into the ritual circle. Upon each corner, the necromancer placed various animal skulls with lit red candles rested upon them. 1. He poured a green slimy material around the sacrifices which stank of sulfur and brimstone.

With a wave of his hands, the circle was lit in purple flames.

"You won't catch me unprepared. No, not again."

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Varhaedil took a silver, worn bell and rang it several times upon the burning circle. The crying children then froze, their eyes rolled to the back of their eye sockets and foam formed on their mouths. Their bodies twisted and convulsed as they rose above the ground. Their bones creaked and made crunching sounds as if being bent by unseen forces.

"It's almost ready... I won't let my research be hampered by a bunch of law enforcers!", the necromancer exclaimed.

"Oh, but we are more than mere law enforcers, mister Varhaedil", a voice came from behind.

Surprised, the necromancer flailed back to discover that Jeanne had arrived on his camp. She was alone, and her other nine companions were nowhere near in sight.

"Did that bigoted, old fool send you?!", his voice was now even more furious.

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"You are free to assume that, but no. I am here for you for another specific reason", in a rare gesture Jeanne smiled as if she had caught her prey.

"You, young lady, seriously believe you can take a master magician alone?!" mocked Varhaedil.

"An inept coward who kidnaps children and indulges himself by making random noises in front of a bonfire, now constitutes to being a master magician?"

"You snarky brat!" snarled the necromancer as he sent a barrage of dark magics at Jeanne, each in quick succession. His uttered mystical words so fast his mouth barely moved and a whole cluster of offensive spells just poured out of his finger tips reinforcing his attack.

However, all of them just withered at Jeanne as if they were merely gusts of wind. The barrage continued, but Jeanne just walks past it, heading towards Varhaedil. Seeing his magic was of no use, he forced several skeletons out of the ground to assail her. Jeanne leaped into the air just as the skeletons were about to grab her, spinning her body as she neared the necromancer. Making full use of her momentum, she flailed her leg delivering a loud smack as she sank her steel grieve against Varhaedil's face. The necromancer fell backwards with a bloodied, broken nose and a few missing teeth. The skeleton crew tried to attack Jeanne again but with a flick of her finger, several of her knights came rushing in, cleaving and slashing past through the skeletons.

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Varhaedil tried to get up on his feet but golden chains materialized and restrained him, pulling back against the ground.

"It ends here, heretic", said Jeanne as she was about to unsheathe her katana.

"Oh...You forgot something" smiled Varhaedil.

Behind him, the burning ritual circle fumed ominous purple smoke that rose high above. The sacrifice was done. The earth cracked and out of the circle, a single giant claw burst out.

The ground yawned open and a creature reeking of death and decay arose. It was about 15 feet tall. It had a head resembling a rotting horse with goat horns, whose breathe was so putrid the ground fizzled upon contact. The abdomen was vaguely humanoid but with several dangling limbs close to a pair of giant meaty clawed arms with bony spikes protruding from the elbows. The lower half was the decaying hind legs of a lion with a serpent for a tail. Its back also bore a pair of foul avian wings with the shade of sickly green.

"Tell me, have you people ever encountered a Putrefying Beast?", smiled the necromancer as he proceeded to chuckle to himself.

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The monster belched out a horrid blood curdling roar. Jeanne almost vomited in disgust at the awful sight.

"No use trying to use your fancy moves here, inquisitor. That thing is a manifestation of the true mortality of life! There's no killing it!"

Jeanne glared at Varhaedil, her eyes blazed in anger at what he had done more so than the act of fighting the beast itself. For the Inquisition, the mere deed of dabbling into the dark arts is considered heretical to the holy king's righteousness.

With a few hand gestures, Jeanne ordered her knights to bombard the beast with a flurry of bombs. Much explosions occurred, wasting away much of the creature's body but it shrugged it off as if annoyed. The beast roared again, and this time attempted to charge itself towards the party. The inquisitors hastily summoned a barrage of golden chains, piercing through the beast's body and effectively anchored him to the ground. At first glance it had seemed as if the beast was defeated, but it did something they never expected.

Chained to the ground, the beast was restrained and unable to move. So what it did was plunge its bony claws deep into the ground, and like stalagmites, erupted from the ground from which the inquisitors were standing and impaled all of them in one brutal move. Refusing to die, some of the Inquisitors made their crumbling chains explode up to the chain hook, causing more damage to the beast and blowing up a huge chunk off its torso.

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The beast limped for a bit but then clawed away the rest of the chains and broke free. The remaining seven charged at the monster, their glowing blades imbued with the holy light. Three of the knights delivered a series of hacks and slashes managing to sever its left rotting thigh. The beast retaliated by regurgitating an acidic maw at the knights reducing them to charred bones and scraps of metal.

"DON'T YOU DARE RETREAT! SMITE THE MONSTER IN THE NAME OF KING!", shouted Jeanne as she herself hacked away at the gargantuan abomination.

The monster grabbed another knight and crushed him in its mighty claws then used the same hand to pulverize another unfortunate one who tried to rescue his comrade in vain. Their numbers were fast dwindling. Her party of ten isn't enough to take down a beast of this monstrosity and size.

"Captain, what should we do?! The beast is too strong!" cried Sir Mon, the only one left in the party beside Jeanne.

"STOP ASKING! FIGHT WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT!" Jeanne shouted back. She was inflamed with zeal and battle thirst. Even when too many of her men had died she continued to fight the monster relentlessly.

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The beast thrust out its hind legs, about to squish Sir Mon but the old veteran easily avoided it. It tried to chomp on him this time, but again he barely dodged and managed to shove his gilded blade up the beast's lower jaw. He pulled back his sword towards him, tearing through the monster's mouth. The monster howled in anger, opening its huge gaping mouth again to devour them. Jeanne and Sir Mon quickly lit two bombs and threw it inside the monster's mouth, exploding just as it was about to gobble them up.

The beast's head was a horrible mess of flesh and bone with black smoke arising from the splattered burnt bits. It stood on its two hind legs, dazing as if about to stumble on its weight.

"Did we defeat it?"asked Sir Mon.

Jeanne was silent, studying the monster's hazy movements.

The monster bent on its knees and arched its torso. In a very gruesome sight, its upper body convulsed in very erratic spasms and out of its destroyed head came out a new one in the form of a horrendous human skull with muscle tendons tightly attached to it. It flexed its arms and the claws reformed into twin sinister looking scythes.

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"Captain...I really must suggest that we retreat for now!"begged Sir Mon.

"Cowards die in shame, Sir Mon", Jeanne gave him a piercing stare and then rushed at the creature screaming, as furious as ever.

The young inquisitor leapt off from the ground with her katana held high. She was about to cut through monster's skull but when she struck, the latter blocked her blade with the blunt side of its scythe arm. Her katana was stuck on the creature's arm and dangled like a rag doll in the air as the monster tried to shake her off. Sir Mon saw the opportunity and boldly charged at the beast. But before he made his move the creature saw him and belched corrosive green slime on him. The knight screamed in anguish as the slime burnt through his armor, and skin. Desperate and blind, he brandished his sword like mad as the slime dissolved his failing body. His pain came to a swift end when the beast just sliced him in half with its other scythe arm.

The monster then turned to Jeanne who was still sticking to its arm. It slammed her against the ground like a peanut and repeatedly stomped on her with such force the whole camp shook.

The last inquisitor laid broken, bloodied, powerless and in severe need of reinforcements. Jeanne tried to mutter the strength to get back up, but the beast stabbed her with its scythe. She cried in agony, but refused to stay down. She grabbed the monster's scythe and weakly clawed at it like some cat with a ball of string. The annoyed monster stabbed her again and again but still she defiantly refused to die. However, at the twelfth time of merciless stabbing, Jeanne's hand finally fell to the ground and the Inquisitor was finally silenced.

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Varhaedil, now free from the shackles, walks toward the bloody body of Jeanne. Her face was serene and calm, and her fair skin was painted with her own blood. She laid on the shattered ground completely still, as if she just fainted.

"Such a waste...But with Noxus' book, I could probably revive her as a mindles-"

"HANDS OFF HER! I SAW HER FIRST! SHE'S MY PROPERTY!", boomed a strong voice from afar.

Varhaedil turned around and saw in a distance, above a tree top, stood a woman dressed in nunnish garments.