RP: Demon of Sorrow

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Zu'Coni smiled. "You have no idea how many times I've been called that. Good. Keep going."
 
Ithavol panted for a second and stared Zu'Coni in the eyes. "You... Are a psychopath! Do you enjoy seeing people suffer? Watching the life drain slowly from their body? Does the sight of blood excite you?" He looked away. "All useless questions..."
 
Zu'Coni stared at him sadly. "No. I don't enjoy it."
 
Ithavol looked back at her. Her eyes seemed to be telling him the truth, but he couldn't tell. "I believe you..." He said softly, trying to comfort Zu'Coni. He immediately regretted it, knowing full well she wouldn't take his pity.
 
"Thank you. I'm glad you understand this is just as hard for me as it is for you." she immediately turned serious again. "Tilt your head back." she continued as if nothing had happened.
 
"So, Ithavol, you say you want to eliminate all evil. I wonder...once this is over what do you plan to do with me?"
 
Ithavol thought for a moment. "I do not believe you to be truly evil..." He said quietly, just enough for Zu'Coni to hear. "I would not do anything to you."
 
Zu'Coni sighed. "Clearly you don't know me." she paused and glanced up. "He's here." she quickly released Ithavol and signaled Dante and the others. "Be ready." Zu'Coni backed up, eyes on the ceiling. She had no weapon.
 
Ithavol stood up shakily and summoned his staff. He felt sick, he wanted to scream, to assert himself that he wasn't some expendable soldier, but he didn't have the strength to do so. He had barely enough to stand from all the torture he'd been through.
 
"Get in here Dante!" Zu'Coni yelled. "All of you!"
 
Dante ran into the small room Rebellion in his hand. "You called?" He said jokingly, a grin on his face. He stopped beside Ithovol and looked to the ceiling.
 
Vergil remained silent as he walked towards Zu`coni, Beowulf appearing in his hands and feets as he did."Dante wont mind that i play with this". He though as he raised his arm to his face, and entered a fighting stance.
 
Ithavol's heart seemed to beat in his ears. Zu'Coni's torture took far too much out of him, and he was a sitting duck if combat was to occur, which it was just about. His staff was the only thing supporting him, and he ended up becoming so weak that he let go, falling limp to the ground.
 
Ziodyne emerged from the shadows. He bore the appearance of a snake made out of a thunder storm. Lightning cracked around his body. He swirled down toward Ithavol.
 
Ithavol cursed himself for being so weak. He shakily stood up and pointed his staff forward, panting, but otherwise surprisingly holding steady.
 
Ithavol shook his head. "No time... Look!" He pointed at the serpent that was making it's way towards him, slowly but steadily, as if it was studying him.
 
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