|
|
 |
|
|
|
Alexander versus FK
Alexander breathes in once as he prepares mentally for the oncoming battle. Drawing the Sword of Hope from its sheath,
he looks upon the blade with an emotion as plain as if it had been spoken. Worry at the possibility of the loss of his trusted
ally fills his mind when suddenly, the sword hums to its wielder. Almost instantly as it is heard, you see Alexander relax,
his face becoming more calm and collected once more as his eyes flare wildly with holy fire. He nods to his blade as he raises
it high. The humming increases in volume as you begin to hear faintly different notes from around you. Looking up, you see
the stars twinkling, each seeming to have its own note that corresponds to those made by Runeblade. The heavenly vessels begin
to move, repeating their circle once again as they had when you entered this hallowed place. Twelve in count as before, they
dart and spiral around the top of this tower, not making any specific pattern. The very tip of Runeblade shines with a light
similar to the stars as it lifts from the blade and joins its newfound companions. They each dance and sing to each other
in a melody no bard could possibly duplicate, no songstress could ever copy as a smile forms on Alexanders face. His head
lowers to view his opponents as his body erupts in an aura of flaming green. The instant this happens, the dancing stars stop
in place. For a brief moment they merely float there when suddenly, the twelve originals group in threes and cast their very
forms at each of the Forsaken knights. One to each temple and one to the center of their foreheads they place themselves as
each member begins to glow with a white light. Tensing around their bodies, you see that it is more form than light as it
begins to constrict each one, holding tightly. The last remaining light rises above the combatants and begins to shake violently
as its note rises to a deafening degree. With no warning to any present, it explodes, bearing the full force of the skies,
nay, the very heavens in its wake. The light that comes forth from it however does not seem to make any mark upon Alexander,
nor any spectator present as it responds only to one thing, the evil it senses as it begins to burn away at each of them,
body and spirit as if no force could match, nor suppress its fury…
Crisiant bites down softly on her bottom lip, chewing on it nervously as she watches every movement Alexander makes. Fingers
wrap themselves tightly about the hilt of her sword, her body trembling slightly as she watches Runeblade begin to glow. Suddenly,
to her surprise, everything grows bright. Her eyes grow wide with fear, she just sits there, stunned and frozen in the heat
of battle. Before she can discern what is happening to her she feels something constricting her body, trapping her in bondage,
leaving her only option to rely upon the grace and elegance of her magic. Her eyes close and Crisiant seems to slip off into
another world within a matter of seconds, but she is not fast enough. Her body begins blistering from Alexander’s stranger
magic, the smell of smoke wafts through the air about her, what seems to be steam rises from her body. Rather unexpectedly,
her foes holy magic that keeps her held in place erupts in blinding white light which is quickly consumed by the darkness
emitting from her body. With a wave of her hand, the vampire sends the dark spirit created by her straight for Alexander,
it’s goal to pass through his body and corrupt taint, perhaps weaken the man’s spirit.
Immanuel tries to scream as the starts lock around his form, but no sound comes forth. He realises he is trapped, locked
solid in this cocoon of light. As the light from the stars rains down, the mage once more tried to scream, though this time
it is in pain. The holy fury burns all that is within him, everything pains, aside from one thing; his love for Alexiaisis.
Using the one thing that is good in him, Immanuel fights the pain, both physically and mentally. His trapped form starts to
convulse, and blood pours out of his mouth. The blood really does pour, and within moments his shell is full of the sanguine
liquid. The sanguine liquid taints the light that emits from the cocoon, sending crimson all around the struggling mage. Drawing
strength from his love, he tenses, and then snaps his form open. The shell that held him explodes and blood goes everywhere.
Covering not just him, but a few of the spectators aswell. Finally free, the mage lets forth the scream that has been building
inside. The sound is full of his old hatred, all thoughts of Alexia gone instantly. The sound seems to push away the glowing
light, his hatred and lust for blood too much for the disgusting goodness. Raising his tainted eyes towards heaven Immanuel
starts to levitate. The burns that cover his body grow, faster and faster until the mage is engulfed with horrible wounds.
Suddenly he seems to explode, human flesh, and blood covers the already crimson ground. The blood bubbles and froths, black
tendrils of energy start to emit from it. Suddenly the vitae on the ground erupts! And in his draconian from once more, Immanuel
flies out, covered in blood. Only his eyes are truly visible and they burn with cold fury. Turning his gaze to the warrior
of hope, the dragon spies Crisiant’s dark spirit. Knowing his attack will not hurt it, Immanuel takes a deep breath,
and breathes fire. Instead of red, it burns black. Hatred, lust and pain coil around the heat as it makes it’s way through
the spirit, not bothering it at all. As it reaches Alexander, the fires intensify, and lavish their attention on the human,
burning away all that is good in their way…
Silk ducked the onrush of Immy's blood, she thinks.
Quortek looks down at himself briefly only to see bits of flesh and blood caking a good portion of his form.
Lyra quickly pushes out a bit of air from between slightly parted, bloodstained lips, her dark eyes never leaving the brightly
glowing Runeblade. Delicate hands tremble ever so slightly as the melodies echo throughout the confines of her tormented mind,
resounding within until her ears are ringing, and a brightness that she recognized once—that can only be holy, Her slender
frame twitches violently, the staff nearly falling from her hands—only to be held in place. She lifts her head, only
for it to be thrown back by the force of this bondage of light. Bondage…one single, solitary thought breaks into her
mind, shattering the noise in an instant. Memories of the last time she had been bound, of Elazul and his possessed, wrack
the once-child’s mind, raising forth with a boiling hatred that none present could ever hope to imagine. Slender fingers
clench tightly around the forsaken staff of Valzain, leaving faint indentions as the hatred of this fallen Angel spills forth
from her mind. From her opened mouth, tendrils of ebon light escape, writhing and twisting in intricate, ropelike spirals.
Around Lyra they gently wrap, each devouring the light in its path with power fueled from its own fury until all is banished,
the only remnants the singe marks on Lyra’s pale skin and the whirling darkness about her frame. The Mage raises her
head, those damning, burning eyes fixing upon the form of the Paladin. A barely audible hiss can be heard, and without warning
the protective magic of Lyra zooms through the air toward Alexander, seeing to wreak upon him all the havoc of her hateful
and tormented mind. Dodging Crisiant’s spirit and the magics cast by Immanuel, they wrap around him much as the light
did with Lyra, meaning to bind him, just as much physically as emotionally, and, to in their own way draw him into the misery
that is her own.
Terces grimaces as the holy light envelopes him. It tears at his very being, eating away at his tainted self, wishing to
devour him completely and leave nothing behind. All Terces can do is try to resist it and hold out as long as possible. As
wounds start to open up across his body Terces begins to lose his precious life force. Blood splatters the ground around him
and the cryomancer’s vision starts to become blurred. Through his hindered vision Terces sees the form of the paladin,
and he grits his teeth. Concentrating as much as possible, Terces channels his energy into his hands. Slowly a faint blue
aura appears about then, pushing the holy light away and granting his hands temporary refuge from the burning. Within seconds,
the aura about his hands grows larger, sending tendrils up his arms to his shoulders. Both of his arms are now engulfed in
this light, keeping them safe for now. Terces closes his eyes and imagines Alexander before him, a blurry dark figure rushing
towards him, followed closely by another figure, though this one flying. And immediately after this, a bright snaking light
careening forth, towards the paladin. The human chooses a spot on Alexander, his upper torso. Terces throws his arms to the
sky, and from them erupts forth the blue light. It leaves his arms and shoots towards Alexander in a high arc, putting all
in its path into a deep freeze.
Alexander opens his wings to take flight, but unfortunately is quickly entangled by the tendrils. Ripping at his appendages,
Alexander struggles desperately to keep himself from being ripped to shreds. He lets out a shriek, similar to a large bird
as the flaming aura around him streaks up each tendril, burning each one away swiftly. The moment he is able, he thrusts hard
with his wings, sending him up to the skies, barely avoiding the flames and ice as the two collide, nullifying each other
in turn. Struggling against his nearly torn and now severely painful muscles, the spirit comes upon him. As the two collide,
time itself seems to stop. A single frozen moment throughout the land as the aura of flame seems the only thing unaffected.
It wraps around this spirit, drawing it closer as it enters Alexanders body. Oddly enough though, it does not escape through
the other side as one might think. Time resumes instantly as Alexanders wings give way. He falls to the tower floor once more
with a force that drives the paladin to his knees as he places a hand to his breastplate. Breathing heavily, he rises to look
upon his foes, seemingly pained by this attacker within, but hardly devastated by it. “ Elazul… Khasad…
Arrecation… Among many whom have tried to grip this land have never held it for a mere moment… “ He speaks
as Runeblade shakes in his hands once. “ Each have fallen in this land, and none shall claim it in the future…
“ He continues as Runeblade shakes stronger. “ The mortals of this land hold a power inconceivable to the likes
of each… For they hold both light and dark within them… Accepting this fact gives one hope… Gives one power…
You wish to know why I am dubbed the Knight of Hope? Then I shall show you a force none can battle back, a force no evil can
withstand, a force held by every man, woman and child in Hollow. Behold the power of mortality! “ Alexander finishes
as he raises his hand to point over the edge of the tower. The land itself begins to glow. Fantasticly this resonating, pure
light from the very earth, and all that inhabit it beckon forth at Alexanders words, and each responds. This light flows up
the tower like a pristine river. Collecting itself around Alexander. As it passes by each present person, their minds are
bombarded with images. Dreams and hopes of all who live in this land rip through swiftly, but leaving definititive impressions
nevertheless. Alexanders wings open once more as he floats above the floor by one inch when suddenly, this power pulses through
the area, seeming as if a pebble were cast into it. Ripples ebb from the Paladin as each rips through the four, baring not
the power of Alexander, nor the powers of Runeblade or the heavens. But that of Hollow itself, the might of a land, its people
to drive back the dark and the cold, and all who would dare seek to harm any living part of it...
Kaiyomatsu widdens his eyes in awe. "Such beauty."
Crisiant’s head cocks to one side with an eyebrow arched, curiously watching the exchange between Alexander and his
sword. The blood covered and partially burnt woman takes a step away from the man and crouches down to the ground, the blade
of her sword kept away from the floor. She head heard rumors and stories of the Knight’s powers, none that she took
to be true though. Just as she crouches down to the ground she is hit with a wave of unseen force, knocked straight in the
head; had she been mortal the force of the blow may have killed her. Crisiant is lifted off her feet and sent crashing down
into the ground; her swords being released from her grip as she crashes. Before she has a chance to get up and shake it off,
she is hit by another of the ripples. The disgusting sound of bones cracking echoes through the air followed by a shrill cry
of pain. A pale hand makes its way to her ribs. With much effort, the vampire slowly rises. Anger clouds the woman’s
mind, blocking out the pain, and all she can think of is making Alexander suffer. Her free hand reaches out for the nearby
sword. Once gripped tightly, she rushes towards Alexander, the ripples seeming to no longer hit her, just pass straight through
her as if she were a ghost. No cry is heard, no sound is made, Crisiant pushes herself up off the ground without warning,
her elemental-sword held high above her head. With a forceful movement, the mage pulls her arm down, the target of her blade
Alexander’s head.
Immanuel wraps his claws around his head as the power enters his draconian form. The dreams of Hollow burn away at his
soul. All his insecurities, malice, contempt for life, and most of all, his deep hatred, each one explodes within the beast.
. Unable to keep flight, the dragon drops out of the sky like a freshly thrown pebble. The ground offers little hope, as it
catches him, breaking bones like measly twigs. The pain doesn’t reach the failing mage, his whole thoughts are confused
by one burning desire; to hope. Hiding within himself, the he fights the urges, surrounding himself with his past. The bloodshed
still won’t ebb the flow of hope, it still burns, still rips away at his soul. Unable to take it a moment longer, Immanuel
stands on all fours, his face is a mask of pain, and hatred still as he looks at the warrior of hope. Suddenly a grin slashes
across his face, as he realises what must be done. “I hope Alexander. I hope you will be dragged under the earth to
burn in hell with the rest of these vile fools!” The last word is nothing more then a hiss, as the vampiric draconian
lumbers forward through the power. Its lethal kiss rips off scales and delicately burns what is underneath, but still the
dragon continues on. Fighting through the pain until he reaches the paladin. He wraps his bloodied and somewhat broken claws
around the human, locking him in place, but leaving enough of him exposed to settle the hunger of Crisiant’s blade.
The light that emits from Alexander ravishes the mage, but still he holds on. Turning his great head, he speaks quickly, to
both Crisiant and Lyra. “Do it now!” As the last word rips itself free, Immanuel closes his eyes, and baths himself
in hatred, praying he has enough strength to hold the warrior of hope long enough.
Lyra shrieks, the sound harsh and loud enough to send nearby birds into flight and rock the makeshift arena even more. Dreams
of hope, of security, of love, all things she never had, all things that forced her into resentment of all life, plague her.
Over and over they play, forcing the vampiress to her knees as screams of anguish resound through the heavens. Dreams of the
child that was lost, the once-Angel that, at one time, had wanted nothing more than someone to love her as she should have,
and needed to be loved, play through, never ceasing and invoking a sorrow so great that it almost seems tangible. A forceful
shake of her head is given, sending strands of ebon hair in all directions as the ground shakes violently once more. “No
more…” Her voice is a hoarse, almost pleading whisper that quickly rises in pitch as she speaks again. “No…MORE!”
The last word is more of a wail, and as it leaves her lips, and her stare averts from Alexander, settling for no more than
a moment, on the draconian form of Immy—probably her best friend, other than Val or Crisiant. The sight of him brings
her back to the situation at and, and slowly, painfully Lyra rises to her feet, those dark eyes narrowing to slits as a feral
growl is sent in Alexander’s direction. Clutching tightly her Forsaken staff; she begins to chant. The words are hrash,
dissonant, bringing with them feelings of pain and despair beyond all possible hope. The ground begins a continuous tremble,
nearly costing Lyra her balance as a wide chasm opens beneath Alexander and Immanuel. Buzzing and hissing can be heard from
inside, and millions upon millions of small, vicious insects make their way into the surface, swarming upon Alexander and
Immy both, hungry for the taste of flesh and that feeling of hope that bound them within a void long ago.
Terces falls to the ground, chest heaving slightly. He looks down at his wounds and sighs. They no longer spill blood,
but are now closed and very sore. He manages to stand and survey’s the area around him. Ripples ensue from him, and
as they reach each of his friends, they in turn seem to drift away or be knocked to the ground. As a ripple reaches Terces
his mind is suddenly flooded with good, hopeful thoughts. They attack his mind, causing deep regret and sorrow within him.
Once again he falls to the ground, causing immense pain to shoot through his left side, where the damage from the holy light
is much worse. This pain somewhat reawakens Terces, just enough to see Crisiant’s blade slashing down upon the pinned
Alexander, and the tiny insects that cover both him and Immanuel. At this sight, Terces remembers what is going on around
him and is able to shake the hideous thoughts of good and hope from his wracked mind. Anger tears through him. Anger bound
up inside, brought out by the light, pushed forward by the horrible thoughts. It slowly simmers out of Terces as a black cloud.
It makes its way towards Alexander, through the Forsaken, who are immune to the negative energy. It closes around him like
the insects running out, bent on destroying the good.
Alexander gasps for breath under the pressing strength of Immanuel, yet he does not move. In fact, his eyes close as easily
as a childs on the brink of slumber. The pulsing waves from him continue as they in turn respond with the aura around Alexander.
These flames burst out from him, bearing the visage of a great bird made up completely of fire. Its beak comes down hard upon
Immanuel, forcing into his scales as if they were a brittle metal. Pressing further into tendon and muscle, Immanuels grip
is forced from Alexander as he floats as he was, still making no movement. The phoenix entity rears its head and casts Immanuel
into the frenzied insects, smashing into many as they fall into the abyss once more. The giant bird looks down upon the cloud
and opens its mouth, taking in a deep breath, bringing in the darkened cloud as it shakes its head and wings in discomfort.
The flames begin to recede slightly, reacting to the opposite energy, but as it does, it clasps its wings together around
the remaining swarm of insects as they bear upon it. The flames crackle against shell and flesh as the exoskeletons burn to
nothing but ash, falling into the wind as it casts them away. The entity subsides as Alexanders eyes finally open. With no
moment available for conscious thought, he brings his mighty weapon up, clashing finally with Crisiants blade. The combined
force of the Sword of Hope and the resonating power of Hollow meet her blade with such power, that the blade itself explodes
into an uncountable amount of metallic dust particles. The very same force sends her flailing backwards from the paladin as
he lowers his blade to his forehead, resting it to his skin as he whispers a silent prayer in thanks to those forces that
had come to his aid. With the sound of his voice, the glow of the land subsides, returning to its normal form and fashion.
Runeblades voice sends out one last note to Alexander, then goes quiet as he lowers it once more, catching the air in his
wings as he resumes normal flight once more.
Silk said, "We all agreed, very good duel, and very difficult decision, but Alexander has been declared the winner,
this day."
Alexander drops to the ground suddenly, exausted and pained from this duel. His wings droop to the ground as he rests Runeblade
beside him, thanking again the land for his victory.
Lyra said to Alexander, "We shall meet again."
Immanuel said to Alexander, "what was the agreement again?"
Kaiyomatsu said to Immanuel, "Give him all your clothes and belongings, except for custom items"
Alexander said to Immanuel, "All you own save custom items, and banishment to Valkrin for two weeks."
Terces gets ta strip.
Immanuel said to Alexander, "Including what I have in my inventory?"
Alexander raises a hand slowly to Kaiyomatsu. " I will handle this friend. "
Lyra said to Kaiyomatsu, "Lose that attitude before I knock it out of you."
Alexander said to Immanuel, "Yes. You all are to be naked and coinless in disgrace for your evil deeds. And so it shall be
done."
Kaiyomatsu said to Alexander, "I'm sure you will good sir. But what you just went through would overwhelm my mind. So it suprises
me that you remember."
Terces said to Alexander, "Heh, disgrace."
Kaiyomatsu said to Lyra, "Hey hey, calm down."
Immanuel is naked and likes it!
Kaiyomatsu kneels down by Atropos. "Are you okay?"
Lyra said to Kaiyomatsu, "You shut up, or you die."
Atropos glances up at Kaiyomatsu, "I dun feel good."
Kaiyomatsu said to Lyra, "I'd rather not, but I am enjoying life quite alot, I don't want trouble however."
Terces said to Kaiyomatsu, "I can still muster enough strength to kill you. Quiet yourself."
Kaiyomatsu said to Atropos, "Do you need help?"
Kaiyomatsu said to Terces, "No doubt"
Atropos said to Kaiyomatsu, "No."
Alexander said, "Keep your food and drink. I will not starve you all at least."
Atropos said to Kaiyomatsu, "I can manage."
Terces feels much lighter and unrestricted.
Immanuel said to Alexander, "aside from my weapon, and my spork, everything I own, is now yours. The deal is done between
us Alexander. I will now go to spend my time in the Hanging Corpse Tavern."
Alexander said to Lyra, "Let this serve to remind you for all time Lyra. Never shall this land be ruled by your like. Not
while I, nor any who hold this land dear draw breath."
Lyra said to Alexander, "My like? You know little of my like. *shrugs, long strands of hair falling over her bare shoulders*
Believe it or not...I was once very much like YOU. But worry not, we will return. *grins and waves*"
Alexander said to Lyra, "I remember... Pity you forgot the innocence you once had."
Lyra said to Alexander, "I didn't forget anything. *shrugs once more* People change. Thank yourself and the others of this
wretched land for it."
Terces said to Alexander, "We will fight again. Next time will be different."
Lyra grins and wanders off to Valkrin for her vacation.
Hans sayto Alexander : ye know i'll have te buy ye ah drink now, don't ye?
Alexander said to Hans, "It would be most welcome friend."
Kaiyomatsu said to Alexander, "What can I say? Amazing."
Alexander said, "Skin of my arse win. I will never do that again."
Alexander versus Valefor
Alexander closes his eyes as his hand falls to the hilt of his blade. Intricately his fingers wrap around it and begin
to draw it from its scabbard as you hear a faint ringing eminating from Alexanders direction. His wings begin to stretch outwards
slowly at the same speed as drawing his blade. The moment the tip of the blade is revealed, his wings now bear their full
size for all to see. Alexander brings his sword up to point at the skies as he turns the widened end to face the dragon before
him. Upon the metal are five runes, intricately carved as each seem to glow with a power all their own. The clouds above part
in a circle around the area, beaming down a radiant light from above. As it hits Alexanders sword, it begins to shake almost
uncontrollably as each rune begins to glow brighter to the point of blinding. A wind picks up around the area, casting the
surrounding flora about as Alexander opens his eyes once more, unaffected by the light. When the luminecense has hit its peak,
five bolts of a light that can only be described as Divine as they lash outwards towards Valefor. Each contorting and moving
as if they were silently commanded by the Paladin. As they each streak towards Valefor, four of the holy bands move to grasp
each appendage of the dragons form. The final one however remains behind, awaiting its opportune moment. As the others do
their work, this last band thrusts out at Valefor, aimed directly at his head and neck...
Valefor raises his shield blocking what he thought was all five beams. He lowers his sheild and raises his wand only to discover
the fifth beam is heading striaght for his neck. Having no time defend against the beam, Valefor is shoot back from the blast.
He grabs his neck as he begins to cough and weeze, he lowers his hand revealing what saved him. The black collar that was
given to him by Dimi now has a large hole due to the Divine blast. Valefor points his wand at the floor and then at Alexander
as he murmmers a dark spell. The ground begins to quake and split, moans and crys come from the freshly open earth. Valefor
then yells "Emeth!!" Alarge firey hand breaks through the ground from below Alexander. The hand stretches for its flying pray.
Alexander now aflight as the ground beneath him breaks apart, looks down as he sees the flaming hand reach for him. He
looks once at Valefor with a slight smirk as he pulls his wings inwards, allowing himself to fall into the earth as the flaming
appendage grasps hold of him. They both disappear from view for a few moments when suddenly from the crack in the earth shoots
forth a large explosion of green fire. From this huge inferno flies Alexander, bearing the flaming aura of the Phoenix around
his body. He lowers his hands to the flames below as they are cast about in the winds summoned earlier. Oddly enough, ones
thought that this mass of flame would swiftly immolate the surrounding area is found to be incorrect as the flames seep into
the ground as the surrounding plantlife seems to shoot up with newfound energy and life. Alexander points a single palm at
Valefor as a jettison of flame is sent around him. Instantly, the flora grows around him. Grass and weed shoot forth to entrap
his lower body, Vines move to encoil him from newly grown trees that bend down to hold him. As nature itself seems to turn
against Valefor, Alexander lands a short distance from him, bearing the Sword of Hope in his hands once more. He raises his
blade to a readied position as he launches himself at a running pace towards his opponent, bringing forth the full force of
Runeblade augmented by his own might in a united attack to drive down his foe in one swift stroke.
Valefor struggles to break free from the tangle of bushes and weeds. As contiues to struggle he realizes Alexander is coming
striaght for him. He begins to struggle hard and hard as the vines and weeds tighten. Valefor looks up as Alexander swings
the sword of hope at him. Valefor smiles and drops straight through the ground. He rabbit NatureSpark had done its part in
the fight. While Valefor was struggling for freedom NatureSpark began eating at the roots of plants and trees. Valefor, now
free from from nature, explodes from the ground behind Alexander. As Alexander hold the sword of hope, Valefor holds sword
of Doom. He races towards Alexander, flapping his wings to create a dust storm, blinding Alexander from the on coming attack.
Valefor slashes vertically at Alexander. He then flaps his wings, clearing the dust storm. Valefor takes a few steps back,
and tosses the blade into the air. He extends his hand catching what is now a bow, forgedof complete evil. He pulls back the
bow's string, with no arrow, He aims the bow at Alexander and says, "Good bye." As he says that an arrow apperas cocked and
ready to be shot. "This arrow will not miss." Valefor release the arrow and watches as it heads striaght for Alexander's heart.
Alexander yells sloudly as the vertical strike connects with his armor, yet bears down to one of his wings, damaging it
to the point where it falls limply to dangle from his back. As the dust storm clears, he looks towards his opponent as tears
swiftly clear any dust left in his eyes. As he blinks them away, he hears Valefor speak, having barely enough time to see
him loose the arrow at him. Alexander stands there as the arrow comes ever closer to him. With a blinding speed, Alexander
brings his hands together, catching the arrow in mid flight yet to his surprise, the arrow still pulls at him, fighting against
his own strength with a will of its own, as if the arrows purpose was to lodge itself within the breast of the paladin, leaving
no force to stop it. Alexander struggles fiercely against it, the arrow slipping between his hands . Alexander looks upwards
and mutters a near silent prayer as a single thread of light casts down to him. The split second it touches the center of
his forehead, the area is lit up so brightly, it forces all to turn away. The light fades almost as soon as it was conjured
to show nothing but a lifeless arrow where Alexanders form once was. Its target lost to it, the arrow no longer has purpose
and has expired. A loud rumbling sound seems to come from above, as if the clouds had as much substance as the earth below
it. Through the clouds at one single moment, an uncountable number of weapons of every craft and style known, each made of
angelic metal and empowered with all the light and good of the heavens are cast down, some to surround the area, cutting off
an escape, but many bear down upon Valefor aimed at various places on his body. Behind the barrage of weaponry Alexander comes
down, gliding down on a path of light. It sparks as his feet slide past while you notice his wing, though tattered and useless
seems to draw from the light around it, returning slowly its broken form to its original splendor. Alexanders body tenses
as he now sees Valefor in view. With a strength few have seen from the knight of hope, he leaps at his opponent, holding Runeblade
aloft as his body becomes a spiraling mass of holy fire, tipped with the Sword of Hope. He follows in turn the mass of weaponry,
streaking like a falling star towards the dragon below, bearing all his might into this attack upon his foe...
Valefor watches as Alexander catches the arrow, and begins to laugh as he struggles against the arrow, but all his laughing
was silenced by the blinding white light. He blinks a few times trying to regain his vision completely ignoring the everything
around him. When he finaly regains his vision and sees the angelic wepons emerge from the cracks of the ground. He raises
his shelid in attempt to defend against the weapons. He blocked few but, more hit him. He falls to his knees and begins to
breath heavly. Valefor grabs his neck and mummbles a spell. A large dark sphere appears around him, deflecting any other wepons
still hitting him. Valefor looks up only to see Alexander swinging his sword at him. He mummbles another spell, and the sphere
is gone. Valefor extends his neck hoping that Alexander hits it. Alexander hits his mark. Valefor is shoot back once again,
but this time he is not weezing nor coughing. Valefor stands and smiles, his red eyes are no more. He extends his left hand
showing everone, what was once his neck. Valefor flys up into the air and lands infront of Alexander. he then says in a soft
gentel voice, "Thank you."
Alexander versus Garr
Alexander draws the Sword of Hope from its scabbard as he holds it before him. The moment it bears ready, Alexanders eyes
alight with green flames, showing the inherent form within. His wings open as he takes to the air in a single thrust, Slowly
raising Runeblade up. The starlight barely gleams off the surface of the blade as each star seems to flicker a tone brighter
than before. Suddenly, from each star shoots forth a beam of light towards the tower. Swirling about each other, intertwining
like a sultry dance they come ever closer as Alexander casts his sword to point towards the giant below. The stars emanations
arc in the air as if caught in a current as their course now bears towards Garr. The lights separate and begin to wrap around
him like the spinning of a cocoon, soon encompassing the immediate area around him in a prison of soft light. Several of the
beams left behind however straighten, several inches at their tips as they come forward, evidently intending to puncture the
large cocoon, and the being within its confines…
Garr watches as Alexander draws his fabled weapon, eyes bright with emerald flame, and soars up into the air, almost effortlessly.
The giant keeps his feet planted and secure, his hammer resting gently in his right hand. He watches silently, cautiously
wondering what his opponent shall do next, as the sword is raised towards him, sending various beams of light flying forward.
In a few moments, the monk finds himself surrounded by a cocoon of soft light, however he chooses to not budge an inch. Garr’s
vision now blocked due to the prison, the giant closes his eyes and holds his breath. Within a few seconds, the light shell
is struck with various rays of light, piercing it in various directions. A great flashes of light burst out in all directions
as the rays hit their target. Finally, after the flashes have died down, the giant can be seen standing in the midst of where
the light cocoon was, the ground around his feet broken in many places. The monk’s eyes are still closed, yet his armor
is covered in blood. Puncture wounds can be seen in his chest, shoulders, and thighs. A gash seems to run down the right side
of the giant’s head. Crimson liquid covers his armor, but all the wounds have been cauterized due to the searing heat
of the intense light. Opening his eyes, Garr takes a breath and looks up into the sky at his opponent. Taking his hammer in
both hands the giant sends his hammer flying high into the air, hurdling towards the chest of the winged-paladin. Once the
hammer is released from his hands, he falls to one knee. Looking up, he watches to see if his trusted hammer has aided him
once more.
Alexander brings his sword back and immediately pulls it forward as the hammer bears near. He places all the might he can
summon into this single swing, hoping to deflect the giants attack. As the two weapons collide, Alexander is sent sprawling,
the deflection only having a partial effect as it collides with his shoulder at full force. Unable to right himself against
the inertia, the Knight of Hope is sent spiraling over the edge of the tower, disappearing from sight. You hear several clanging
sounds followed by a horrible screeching. Before long, you hear a crunching sound, followed by another… and another.
Each sound seems to resemble that of rock being clawed as soon a single gauntlet rises up from over the edge. The claws at
the tip of each finger grip tight to the stone as Alexander pulls himself up over the edge to roll out into full view, an
obvious look of considerable pain on his face as his other arm and wing behind it topple lifelessly about. He breathes heavily
as he rises to a kneel, His good arm nursing the other as it is plain to see Runeblade is nowhere near, obviously being discarded
in order to make the difficult one handed climb to safety. Suddenly, he jerks his good arm forward, pulling on his arm as
he lets out a bird-like shriek in pain. The sound of this resonates around the area as the tower itself seems to shudder.
As his eyes open, he locks his gaze with that of Garr, each eye draining themselves of the unconsciously summoned tears. Two
fall and hit the ground as the places they strike pulse with a green glow. Like a spilled container of water, this glow flows
outward, soon encompassing the towers top in its wake as suddenly, the glow erupts in green flames. A horrible heat licks
out of each billowed flame, lapping at the giants armor, heating it considerably more than that which would be comfortable.
Within the confines of his own armor, the heat begins to pass through to the flesh within as Gars own protection becomes the
weapon of attack by his opponent…
Garr breathes heavily as his hammer flies true, hitting his target, sending the winged-man down out of sight. A frown creeps
across the giant’s face as he slowly stands up, wincing from the pain of his wounds. Grunts, as he takes one painful
step closer towards the edge of the tower, only to be stopped by the sound of stone being crushed. Seeing Alexander’s
hand slowly rise to the edge of the tower, the giant lets out a sigh of relief, happy to know that the paladin is not dead.
However, the smile is soon wept away with remorse as he sees the lifeless wing and limb of his opponent. Seeing the tears
fall from the man’s eyes, Garr notices the green flames slowly growing around him, flowing from the greenish glowing
tears. The monk does not have the strength to dodge and is left to feel the flames grow stronger and closer, slowly rising
around him in hopes of melting his armor to his body itself. With a ferocious yell, the giant falls back down on one knee,
his armor surrounded by glowing green flame. He reaches towards his mask, ripping it off of his flesh, throwing it down on
the ground, skin still hanging on to the melted mask. He puts his right hand on the ground, grasping at the emerald flame.
With another large yell, disappearing into the void of the open sky, Garr stands up slowly. The spikes on his armor now but
metal flak fused to the armor. He slowly steps towards his opponent. Each step causes a louder yell to be heard as giant slowly
approaches, his right hand clenched tightly. Soon enough, every step leaves a small puddle of molten black metal in its footprint.
Finally, he reaches the grounded paladin, and with a look of his eyes of almost unbearable pain, he pulls his right hand back
and punches forward, focusing all of his strength, body, and mind into the punch, his right hand, covered in emeraled fire,
racing towards his opponent.
Alexander raises his arm up to block the massive fist of Garr. Knowing the raw physical strength of his opponent, Alexander
makes a single flap with his uninjured wing to augment a sideways motion. Paired with the high block, his forearm only needs
a moments touch to send Alexander aside, barely missing a blow that would have been similar to him swatting at a common insect.
Alexander uses his momentum to roll several times. The flames seeming to have no effect on him as he rolls to his feet. He
makes a sweeping motion with his arm as the torrent of fire immediately condenses around him, leaving only charred rock behind.
The fires surround Alexander completely, yet you can plainly see his visage within them as suddenly, the flames explode around
him. Certain areas grow while others lessen as the fires take form and shape. This fiery aura seems to let out a cry as two
giant flaming wings issue out. They cast down once as both the surrounding flame and the form within rise to the air. A set
of talons emerge beneath before finally, a head appears in one final burst from above. Its beak opens, letting out an ear
shattering call as it looks down upon Garr. The fiery bird lands atop the tower, bearing a slightly larger height than the
giant as its wings spread wide. Without another sound, The wings arc forward, swiftly coming together as you now see that
it seeks to collide, one to the other, with the already burnt form of Garr between them…
Garr knows full well that the flames around him will finish him soon, every breath already brining excruciating pain as the
heated metal slag rests on his body, burning through into his flesh. The giant turns slowly, ebony metal dripping off his
body, creating a pool around his feet. With a large heavy sigh, he takes his helmet off, peeling off the flesh from his scalp
underneath. The helmet falls to the ground, only to slowly melt away the last of its retained shape. With a yell, resonating
the very foundations of the tower itself, Garr stares down the fiery bird, knowing full well this is where he makes his last
stand against the knight. The monk closes his eyes again taking in a deep breath. For a moment, everything about the giant
is silent. The flames around his body continue to lick up and down his frame, but his face doesn’t show any pain. The
face of Garr begins to glow radiantly, a soft innocent light coming through, giving the giant the face of an innocent young
child. The flaming wings of the bird spread out and arc forward, cutting through the air with great ease. The split second
before the wings make contact with his body, he opens his eyes and breaths. A shot of adrenaline quickly rushes through his
veins, like the fire spreading over his body. In an enormous explosion of flames, Garr charges forward through the flaming
wings, summoning the last of his strength as he runs toward the figure within the flame. The metal on his body now completely
melted off, he continues on. There is no sign of a wince, no sound of a scream, and no sight of pain on his face. His face
wears an innocent smile. Racing forwards, the giant charges towards the figure of Alexander within the fiery bird, hoping
to tackle his opponent of the edge of the tower itself.
Alexander is sent backwards by the brute force of the giant, the emanating wings only grazing the giant from the weaker
interior. In a blaze of fire, both combatants are sent sprawling along the ground. The fiery form begins to dissipate as both
Garr and Alexander fall over the edge. The Knight of Hope latches his claws into the floor of the tower as he attempts to
stop himself from going over, yet the force of Garr against him only lets the claws make several trails along the ground.
Alexander lets out an odd sounding call as you hear a faint ringing coming from below. As the two fall over the edge, you
hear a piercing sound of metal against stone. To those that would peer over the towers edge, you see first the form of Runeblade
once more. Hilt deep into the rock face as it rings out loudly, answering the summons of its partner. The gauntleted hand
of Alexander grips it tightly as the wing on that side flaps wildly, attempting to augment the upward force and relieve the
gravity that pulls him down. Below Alexander though, you see his other wing, still lifeless as it hangs over his injured arm
and yet you see Garr below that, being held by Alexanders injured hand as it vibrates under both sustained pain and the overwhelming
weight of the giant. With a cry of sheer agony, Alexander heaves once, summoning all force in his body, motivation in his
mind and prayer in his soul as Garr is cast up over the edge once more to the towers top, leaving the paladin to hang there,
barely able to catch his breath amidst painful wisps that leave his throat. Runeblade now seems to take life as it cuts upward,
bearing an unseen force as it carries Alexander upward and over the edge beside Garr, leaving him laying beside him as Runeblade
drops to the ground once more, the ringing beginning to dim to silence once more having completed its current task.
Garr lies there motionless, his eyes closed. A soft wheezing sound can be heard coming from the giant's mouth, his face surprisingly
not burnt very bad. However, the rest of the giant's body is seered in many places, revealing his past scars as well as new
with the armor being gone.
Atropos nods towards Lyra and growls again at Valdren before turning towards Alexander and Garr, "Hell of a duel, you too
but the judges have voted for Alexander."
Immanuel versus Alexander
Immanuel lets his bloodstained lips curl into a wicked smile. “Well meet Alexander, it is a honour to meet you in battle
once more.” Never letting the smile fall from his lips, the mage wraps his strong hands around his weapon, and with
a slight grunt drives it into the ground. With his hands now free, he begins to trace patterns in the air. His movements are
arcane, precise and accompanied by a slow chant. Faint white lines begin to form behind the trailing limbs, but this doesn’t
change their speed or their pre-ordained design. The lines slowly start to connect together, forming a complicated patter
in the air. When finished, the pattern floats up above the two warriors and bathes them in it’s unholy light. Immanuel
lifts his hands above his head and begins to scream… all his hatred, all his pain, let free in one vile action. The
pattern reacts to this by shining more brightly, as if the hatred fuels its dark power. Lowering his hands, he once again
wraps pallid fingers around his weapon, and draws if out of the ground. With the crimson staff once more in his hands, Immanuel
spreads his wings, and launches himself towards Alexander. The light that rains from the sky flares brightly for a second
and when it returns to normal, the mage is gone… A lengthy scream suddenly shatters the silence, and from within the
pattern of darkness Immanuel shoots forth! Physically little has changed, only his eyes which now are a black so complete
they challenge ones sanity, and the staff he once carried is no more, it is replaced dark sword. As the demonic vampire continues
on his way towards Alexander, black flames shoot out of his form, burning all that they touch instantly. “You wanted
power Alexander! Feel the wrath of my ancestors!” The flames shoot forward at the paladin, their heat enough that the
ground starts to crystallise. Following in their wake, the vampire swings his sword, with skill he does not normally possess,
at the paladin’s neck. It’s clean edge looks not just for flesh, but also for the champion of hope’s soul….
Alexander issues forth into the air, avoiding the blades stroke as he looks downwards upon his foe. The flames that encircle
him now mold themselves into the visage of a great bird, depicting his true self. This Phoenix entity opens its beak and shrieks
out at Immanuel, yet its call bears with it a voice that plunges into the minds of all nearby. “ You have learned nothing
of our last encounter vampire. I have existed far beyond your concept of time. “ it speaks as with no other word spoken,
it casts its flight in a large circular pattern. With each flap of its wings the winds grow stronger. Again it issues out
a shriek but it speaks no clear language to you. In the distance of the nearby forest you hear the calls of various animals
and beasts. Louder they grow in response to the Phoenix as the ground shudders. Without warning, a mass of creatures both
magical and mundane rampage from all directions of town, forest, and air directly at Immanuel. Claws slash, hooves kick and
talons grasp at him as Alexander flies overhead, bearing witness to the allies he has summoned as they continue their stampede
at the mage…
Immanuel watches the animals appear, and lets horribly bored expression finds its way onto his face. Tilting his wings, his
forward momentum quickly shifts to upwards, and he soars high into the sky, stopping only when he is equalled that of Alexander.
“Animals?! You don’t take me seriously! Bah!” The pattern that still floats above the two suddenly distorts,
the light that once poured forth, is stopped, and pitch black is all that is left. Out of the dark abyss, three souls emerge.
Their strength seems to drown out all others, as they float to Immanuel, and surround his form. Opening himself up to them,
they dissolve into his being, causing a moan of pleasure to escape his lips. Now whored with power that is not his own, the
mage faces one open palm at Alexander, and one at the animals which lace the ground below. “Feel now the true strength
of my fallen kin!” Black power spews out of his two hands. As the power reaches the animals panicked, screams are heard
as the beasts try to escape. Any who are touched instantly age at a horrific rate, and soon the ground is decorated with dry,
white bones. Returning his attention upward, he watches the remaining power rush at Alexander, attempting to do to him, what
it just did to the pathetic animals of Hollow…
Alexander attempts to outmaneuver this energy that seeks to claim him, but to no avail. It surrounds him quickly as you
see his form begin to succumb. His skin wrinkles horribly and his hair turns to a brilliant white. As his body ages, his wings
no longer able to support his armored body lose their strength and lift. Alexander falls helplessly to the ground among his
now dead allies as you hear several large cracking sounds, his brittle bones shattering like thin glass. A final breath emanates
from his lips as he lies broken upon the ground. The energy surrounding him fades, its job now done as no further life energy
exists within the knight of hope to take. A silence grips the area. Cold and bleak as if the world itself had grinded to a
halt at this single death when you feel the winds ripping you from this silenced state. They continue on course as they had
when summoned as the fires around Alexanders body begin to flicker once more. The heat rises swiftly, burning away the flesh
of the mortal form as the ashes are taken up into the air. Dancing and spiraling these embers and ashen remains float above
when oddly, the winds converge upon each other, taking the cremated body and thrusting it together in a giant sphere. As the
last miniscule part touches with the others, this sphere explodes in a mass of fire and light. As eyes adjust, you see now
within it the form of a man, naked in a fetal position, looking as if just born when his eyes open. He looks down upon Immanuel
in silence as Runeblade sings loudly, recognizing the form. It shoots up from its place among the fallen empty armor to the
hand of the man as he stretches out, showing his face to the crowd. Reborn from the ashes of old, Alexander floats once more,
taking in a newfound breath as if it were his first. He places the tip of Runeblade to his forehead as his eyes burst with
green flame. Unbeknownst to those without the sense, Alexanders mind reaches out to Immanuels, attempting to grasp hold as
it sends forth recollections of past injuries sustained in battle. Vivid as if they were cut this moment, they each seek to
lash at the vampire with such a mental force as to cause the same injuries upon his body through the conduit of his own mind…
Immanuel screams in triumph as Alexander dies, but his screams quickly fade away, as the ashes of the beast rejoin, and grant
life to his soul once more. Rage filters though the blackness of his eyes, as sanguine vines slighter across the blackness.
“NO!” In his enraged state, the mage doesn’t notice what the paladin is doing until it is too late. Horrendous
wounds rip his flesh apart. Slashes, stabs, swipes and the effects of hundreds of spells all lavish their attention upon the
small form that is Immanuel. Within no time, the mage too dies. What is left none could identify, his entire body has become
one giant wound… Silence once again emerges on the battlefield, and like always it is quickly shattered! The portal,
which Immanuel has left open, glows once more! And from within its dark grasp the soul of the vampire emerges. Standing tall
and proud the soul starts to solidify, and within moments flesh has once again incarcerated the soul. Looking up at the portal,
Immanuel speaks slowly. “Come brothers, let’s end this now!” The now glowing portal starts to spew the souls
of Immanuel’s kin. Though these ones are not as strong as the original three, their power is still great. As the last
one rips itself free, the portal closes, and the souls converge around the newly formed vampire. “Not even you can stop
this Alexander! Your holy power will not halt my plans!” As if this were a command the souls float over to the phoenix.
The small light they emit blacks out any light from the flames, as they surround his form. They halt for but a moment, before
all rush in. The flames do not seem to bother them at all, as they make their way towards Alexander himself. Hundreds of hands
reach out, each one going for a different part of him, as they seek to blanket the warrior, and drag him back to which ever
hell they all call home…
Alexander slashes forth with the Sword of Hope, cutting only a few down with each stroke of the mighty weapon as the others
close in around him. As each takes hold, Alexander looks upwards to the skies with a pleading look. His voice snuffed as his
neck becomes caught by several of these dark emanations. As his breath begins to leave him, the clouds begin to shimmer with
a silvery sparkle. As you look upon them, small forms begin to cast down from the skies. As each comes closer, you see their
heavenly forms. Male and female each bearing a set of near ethereal wings that glow with several colors float down. Clad in
no armor, carrying no weapon these heavenly beings come upon the mass of evil souls. Each reaching out their hands, they touch
these souls gently sending them into ferocious convulsions as each angel begins to whisper prayers and songs of forgiveness.
These darkened beings suddenly burst with light, a light that banishes the darkness in their very beings as each releases
its hold on Alexander. Together, both soul and angel rise from the mortal plane to return together to the heavens once more
as Alexanders breath finds him once more. He turns his attention to his armor components now strewn along the ground. He holds
his empty hand out to them as they each begin to shudder under their owners command. Suddenly each piece shoots forth from
their rested place towards Immanuel. As each bears upon him, they attempt to latch themselves to his body, armoring him in
their holy metal. As each does this the power of all lunges out at the vampire, attacking not his body, nor his mind, but
his very essence, the things that make up his evil nature in their power, attempting to turn him towards the light, change
his image to that of good and pure as Alexander floats above, commanding each to its combined attack on the vampire…
Immanuel watches his fallen brethren float into the sky. A deep feeling of contentment bathes his troubled mind. “Rest
well brothers.” Looking once more at Alexander, he fails to notice the armour until it is too late. The pieces latch
onto his being, incarcerating him in a prison of light. Unable to move his body, he looks up at Alexander, expecting to see
him rushing forwards, but before he can even spot the phoenix, his essence suddenly screams in pain! The scream takes but
a moment to make its way out Immanuel’s real mouth. It is a scream of pain, of hurt and most of all, of hatred; Hatred
of who he is, who he let himself become. The holy fury ravages every part of him, driving the darkness away. His pallid body
starts to convulse, blood spews out of his mouth, and down the armour of light. Expecting death, Immanuel latches on to the
one thing he really loves in this vile world, Alexia. Thoughts of her full his pain racked mind, driving away the darkness
inside. As if fooled by this, the armour stops glowing, and fall piece by piece to the ground. The vampire falls along side
the holy items, his wings lay bloodied behind his back, all but useless. His downward momentum is stopped abruptly as the
ground catches his fall. The still white bones offer little cushion as they shatter around his form. Slowly the mage lets
the thoughts of Alexia drift away, he lets his mind once again be tortured by the darkness. Slowly he stands and looks up
at the floating form of Alexander, and once again he speaks to the warrior of hope. “Thank you… You granted my
kin forgiveness, and let them once more live in paradise. For that we will fight no more.”
Neraka versus Alexander
Alexander opens his wings and takes to the air as the maelstrom follows in due course towNeraka's pale lips twist into
a cold, emotionless sneer as he sizes up the foe before him. Voided Morkal Blade held over his right shoulder, the Dark Knight
says in a hoarse, grating voice.."It is about time that toy of yours had a taste of some real power..." As the last dry sound
rings eeirily through the still, quiet air a black, unearthly mist begins to seep from the cold, hard earth beneath the two
combatants feet. Writhing constantly, the evil haze begins to creep throughout the clearing,consuming fresh, green flora before
it and leaving brown withered clumps of decaying refuse in its wake. As the arena becomes fully covered in the unholy mist
Neraka lifts the shadowy weapon in his gauntleted hand skyward and a loud, clear screech pierces the opressive silence hanging
over the land, the call of a distant dragon. Sword becoming rigid as it reaches its zenith, the Morkal Blade begins to reverbrate
and glow a bright gold and then crimson as it draws the death from its surroundings into its magnificent form. The hue along
its razor edge growing ever brighter, the blade resonates with a low hum as more and more power is drawn into it. Suddenly
the Dark Knight lowers the sword with a deft movement of his right arm, the shimmering tip pointing at Alexander, and the
mist covering the ground lunges at him. Rising from the bed of the clearing a large tidal wave of dark enery is formed, tearing
toward its target with an ever increasing speed. As the unholy maelstrom draws nearer to the Phoenix warrior a streak explodes
from the weapon held steadily in the Dark Knight's undead grasp, a hole in time and space opening from its needle-like tip
and streaking toward the form before it..
Alexander opens his wings and takes to the air as the maelstrom follows in due course toward him. Despite Alexanders wing
strength, the wave gains on him. Suddenly, Alexander stops and faces the oncoming wave as Runeblade hums loudly in his hand.
He nods to the Sword of Hope and holds the blunt edge towards the mist as the five runes begin to glow, each with a different
color. The clouds part above the two as a bright beam of light shoots from the heavens towards Alexander. He raises his weapon
slightly as the beam strikes the metal of the blade, reflecting from it into the misty wave. The holy light breaks through
the center of the mist as the two sides pass by Alexander and settle to the ground. Wielding his sword as before, his body
is encased within a green, flaming aura. The hole in time and space envelops him and dissapears without a trace when oddly
enough, a similar portal opens above Neraka. At a blinding speed, Alexander flies from inside looking slightly older than
he was a moment ago. Bringing his weapon up, he waves it in a giant circle. As the circle is completed, a man-sized door of
gold appears. The door opens, casting a truely wonderous light down to the arena below as you see a near dozen, shimmering
angelic forms enter the area from it. They each draw their weapons as the door closes behind them and fly towards Neraka,
bringing their weapons down upon him all at once...
Neraka snickers, crimson eyes flaring brightly as the angelic beings speed forth to bring his demise. Lowering the glimmering
blade in his hand slowly, the Dark Knight presses it against the brown, grainy arena soil and drives it firmly into place.
Pale face still flushed with mirth and his actions agonizingly deliberate he disentwines his fingers from the soft, leathery
hilt, forcing his arm away from the sword and placing it idley at his armoured side. With his voluminous cloak billowing wildly
behind him, the etheral ebony cloth seemingly being teased by the light breeze sweeping as a welcome respite through the hot
arena, Neraka crosses his gauntleted arms across his muscular chest deffiantly. Seemingly daring the holy creations to finish
their work the Master of the Void parts his twisted lips, uttering a single spidery word..."Fihuerizia..." the melodic and
yet eirie sound ringing out clearly over the dusty battleground and spectator-filled seats of the massive colloseum-like structure.
Streaking through the air, the winged creature's swing their reverbrating, golden weapons at their target, the momentom of
their swift passage carrying them at and surprisingly through a now misty Neraka. As each of the angels is touched by the
haze that is the Knight of Darkness, their once brilliantly white garments begin to turn a dirty grey and then pitch black,
beautifull features and youthfull bodies becoming contorted and disfigured by the Evil Energy. Slowing their flight and turning
about, the final touches of the transformation become apparant on the once-holy warriors, their blades of righteousness now
scarlett scimitars of destruction and their zealous eyes twin pools of raging hate. Focusing their loathing for humanity on
their summoner, the demons begin to move in his direction...ever increasing their pace and holding their swords poised to
bring his end about, this time determined not to fail in their assignment...
Alexander watches in horror as those he would call his allies turn into that which they have fought against since the dawn
of time. A tear falls from Alexanders eyes and hits the ground below as he makes no movement against the now hellish beings.
As his tear seeps into the ground. the soil begins to glimmer as if it were water instead of earth. The entire arena shines
as if it were alive... sensing Alexanders sorrow. " My friends... I am sorry... " He whispers as small beads of light begin
to float from the ground. As if the arena were covered in the reflective glow of a thousand fireflies, each dances about the
area, some coming into contact with the now twisted forms of Alexanders friends. Each one sticks to the bodies of those it
touches, eventually surrounding each form as they soar up at Alexander. Still he makes no movement as they converge upon him.
They raise teir scimitars and strike down upon him when suddenly, the beads of light begin to leave each form, beginning from
their weapons. Each stroke whips past Alexander as if he were hit by nothing but air. As the beads of light dissipate around
the demonic forms, you notice that they disintigrate as they leave. No weapon, no flesh, not even a single hair is left as
the beads begin to fall to the ground. A single one touches Alexanders head as his eyes flare brilliantly. " For my friends...
For the people... I will srtike you down!!! " Alexander shouts as the beads converge around the Avatar in a similar way they
did before as you notice them slowly leaving his form, beginning to dissolve his clothing in their wake as Alexander flies
down towards Neraka, Runeblade drawn back as the holy runes glow ever still...
Neraka emits a low grunt, unable to contain himself from giving voice to the searing pain washing over him as the black armour
encasing his muscular body is penetrated in some areas by the sparkling beads. Sinking to his hands and knees the Dark Knight
grits his teeth firmly, refusing to let his agony show through further, and gathers the last shreds of Unholy energy lurking
in the inky depths of his corrupted mind. His gauntleted hands clenching around handfulls of coarse, warm earth Neraka channels,
an explosion of black chi emanating and spreading from his body...the crystal, tear-like droplets solidifying and beginning
to fall from his marred flesh. Continuing to spread out about him, the pulsating dome of darkness lets loose thin rivulets
of energy at the surrounding masses of humanity covering the spectator seats of the arena. Roaring for murder the bloodthirsty
crowd seems oblivious to the approaching evil, jade-black tentacles seeping deep into the concrete foundation beneath the
people's feet. Suddenly a woman's scream shatters the monotonous noise of the rabble feasting their eyes on the fight, large
jagged chunks of stone begining to tear forth from various places throughout the arena and streaking at the two combatants.
Panic and fear beginning to spread like a plague of the mind over the citizens, a chaotic mayhem begins to enseu. Struggling
to escape the destruction about them, people are crushed beneath the pieces of a rapidly changing collaseum and in some places
by the feet of the now out of control crowd. Grinning widley, despite his various injuries Neraka says..."Beautifull, is it
not? Only moments before they wanted death...and now they shall get it..."His raging crimson eyes focussed on his approaching
foe, the Dark Knight lifts one of his hands feebley and several of the closer chunks of debris streak through the air to cut
Alexander's path off, stopping between the two opponents for a brief second before suddenly lunging at the Human/Phoenix Hybrid...
Alexander slashes angrily at the chunks of rubble screaming towards him. Runeblade cuts easily through the concrete as
Alexander races towards his target. Suddenly, Runeblade begins to eminate a shrill noise as Alexander swoops past Nerakas
head. As he lifts himself upwards, he notices the chaos around him. his eyes dart from person to person. Some running in fear,
some looking frantic in their search for a loved one. Ignoring Nerakas words, Alexander places the tip of his weapon to his
forehead and thrusts it to the skies. The aura around his body shoots out at the toppling arena, shattering pillars into dust.
He hears the scream of a woman and looks down to see a middle aged woman clutching a small child to her breast as the wall
behind them begins to fall, threatening to crush both mother and child. " NO!!! " Alexander yells and darts for them. noticing
it to be too late for him to change direction should he take them in his arms, he flies past them and lands. He thrusts Runeblade
into the ground and lifts his hands to the wall coming down upon him. He is forced roughly to his knees as the wall comes
down upon him. you see a vigourous strain on his face as he yells to the mother to run. She responds without a word and runs
as fast as she can muster from the wall as the strain claims him. The wall falls upon Alexander, sending a loud crash throughout
the city. The dust begins to settle as you see the hilt of Runeblade sticking out from the rubble, next to Alexanders foot.
You notice that the aura around it never dies, but instead grows in size and brilliancy. large chunks of the wall are suddenly
thrust upwards and to the side of the now empty arena as Alexanders form ignites, turning into nothing more than a pile of
ash. The wind picks up and carries the small flakes into the air when oddly, they combine, forming a man sized figure sporting
two wings from his back. Without warning, the ashes ignite in a wave of green flames as the form slowly begins to move. It
lowers to the ground as the flames die out. Alexander falls to his knees, looking extremely exausted as slowly, he rises to
his feet and walks over to pick up his fallen blade. As he sheathes it, he looks about him in despair as he sees the broken
bodies of those unfotunate people caught in the rubble as he lowers his head. " No price was worth this... " He whispers to
himself. " May the Spirits forgive me..."
Valarus versus Alexander
Valarus turns from the Kirsterl and allows his silver-hued eyes to fall on the lord of hope, “Well met, Alexander.”
A small smirk contorts his thin lips, before they open and from deep within comes an arcane chant; it flows like all his words
do, seemingly mixing with all other sounds in the area. Around the body of the vampire, scarlet light starts to pour. It mixes
with the sanguine hued liquid already bathing the spell-blade, causing him to once more appear almost demonic. With a subtle
twist of his wrist he brings up his wretched weapon; a gift from Kaizer, an axe forged from the flesh and blood of the fallen
god. Then, in a blur of movement he erupts forward, his axe trailing in his wake. As he nears the lord of hope, the light
around his body seems to explode; a wave of burning energy flying in all directions. Following now quickly in its wake, Valarus
comes, his axe held high above his head. As he reaches Alexander, he leaps to the left, and brings his tainted weapon around
from the right, aimed for the neck of the paladin.
Alexander remains standing still as he watches Valarus with a keen precision. Runeblade begins to glow with a divine light,
responding for the first time in many months to the power of Kaizer. As Valarus bears his axe upon him, Alexander falls to
one knee, narrowly escaping the executioner styled strike as his grounded leg presses forward, sending the Knight of Hope
past Valarus' side, thrusting out with Runeblade as he does. The tip of the sword barely touches its target before Alexander
pulls back his blow, landing a few feet behind his opponent as his boots scrape to a halt. A faint trail of light seems to
shine from the tip of his sword, trailing back to the very spot it touched Valarus when suddenly, you see several similar
strands break away from that point, almost as if the very air around him were webbing outwards. Alexander remains in place
with back turned to his opponent while these strands of light soon enclose Valarus, making his form seem as if made of cracked
glass. The moment the last strand connects this webbing fully, Alexander pulls forwards on his blade with all the strength
he can summon. As the tether pulls tight, it also begins tugging on the lines surrounding Valarus, not only seeking to entrap
his body, but to cut it to shreds as easily as a fishing line pulled too tightly around a finger.
Valarus swears as Runeblade tastes his pallid flesh through the armor that offers little protection against such a weapon.
Then, as he feels himself incarcerated within the tendrils of light, his cursing dies out. The axe forged from Kaizer is quickly
bought into motion. The spell-blade begins cutting at the lines, severing each one touched with ease. The sheer amount of
lines is too much, though, and as the lord of hope pulls his blade down, terrible pain erupts through the vampire’s
body. His armor fails once again to protect him, the webbing slices through it with as much ease as the axe, and all over
his pallid form crimson lines appear. Though none sever his body, the pain causes his face to warp into a twisted mask of
agony. Unable to shake the feeling, Valarus can only act. He once more speaks ancient words of power. Clouds appear in the
night sky, and wicked thunder erupts around the area, though no lightening is seen. The axe of Valarus begins to rain down
blood all upon the much trodden road. And from each drop a small tendril of smoke starts to pour into the night sky, almost
as if this land was once again rejecting the influence of Lord Kaizer. Unnoticed to the spell-blade all this is, he continues
to weave his words, causing more clouds to appear and block out all stars in the sky. Then, like a terrible explosion, thunder
erupts once more. The strength of the blast is enough to cause small trails of blood to pour from the ears of Valarus, but
this is hardly known as the slave is already covered in his lord’s sweet vitae. Behind the wave of sound, he comes once
more. Another trail of sanguine is noticed, as this time the weapon is swung directly down, towards the back of his opponent,
aimed at splitting the man clean in half.
Alexander's nose wrinkles as he recalls the smell of such ichor. His eyes turn to the strand of light that grasps at the
tip of his weapon as it starts to dip down, plainly showing that Valarus is still mobile behind him. He closes his eyes as
his lips begin moving slightly, as if whispering some silent prayer. As the strike comes down, Alexander raises Runeblade
to defend as the two collide with such a sound, that the land trembles, remembering well when the two powers of Evil God,
and Mortal Man collided last at this very spot. Alexander Tries to heave the axe up slightly before diving to the ground in
front of him in a roll, yet he spirals out halfway, ending on his side as you see several green colored feathers swaying back
and forth to the ground, showing plainly that the axe had indeed tasted his flesh. He rises up slowly, yet you notice his
left wing now dangles behind him as several longer feathers brush the road. He winces in obvious pain, yet focuses himself
to his opponent as his eyes erupt in their customary green spiritual flame. Nis neck dips backward as his mouth opens and
from his throat, a high pitched call is heard. Much like that of common birds, it bellows out as above, a small place in the
clouds opens. From within this small gap in the darkness, a single light shines forth, to luminous to be that of sun or moonlight.
When it has come an estimated thirty feet from the ground, this light seems to reverberate upon Alexanders voice as it breaks
apart, shattering into many smaller parts as they join the rain in this downpour. Each fragment of this heavenly light showers
down upon the area, causing the surrounding onslaught of blood to bubble and crackle. As light mixes with darkness, the blood
from the ground is suddenly heaved towards Valarus, taking with it these shards of light as it has become apparent that the
two powers that had clashed so many times, now come together in a mix of energy upon the vampire. One carrying the wrath of
Kaizer, the other the power of Alexander in this hail of good and evil combined.
Valarus watches the wave of death come down on him with a horrified look. The spell-blade spews words that are pathetic and
weak. “Help me, Lord. Help me…” The sound is washed out by the waves of sanguine mixed with terrible light.
As they reach the stagnant vampire the blood seems to weave away from his body, turning slowly to miss the slave of Kaizer.
Though pathetically powerful his words were, they were not powerful enough and some of the mixed energies land upon his shattered
armor, burning it and him with terrible malice and divine retribution. Another pain-filled scream is heard, even over the
waves, and the once mighty slave master drops to his knees. His scream changes as he does, though, unable even to look at
Alexander he screams the words of his spell directly into the twin blades of his axe. The power of the slave and Master mix
and for a moment little happens. Then, like the heralding of destruction, another scream comes from the thin lips of Valarus;
though this one is pure hate. His eyes shine brightly, no longer silver, glowing now with fires directly from the Hell that
he is forced to call home. A voice explodes throughout the night, though its words are not understood by any who dwell away
from Hollow’s dormant hell. The road below begins to violently shake and rumble. Millions of tiny dust granules fly
upwards into the air, forming together a mighty storm, which challenges the sky with its might. Within this field of dust,
the axe of Valarus is pointed directly at the lord of hope. A whispered word is heard by a few, before ebon power comes forth.
Unhindered by the physical restraints in this land, it has no effect on the storms of dust. It flies straight and true towards
Alexander, moving as he moves to evade evasion. Its dark tip distorts for a moment into a face wearing a mask of complete
malice and from the open mouth comes a scream, before the power reaches Alexander, attempting in its cruelty to drag the lord
of hope back to Hell, where he will feed the slaves of Kaizer for an eternity.
Alexander's eyes open widely as the area responds to the display of power. He brings Runeblade to ready as Valarus points
the hellish axe at him as the emerald flames in his eyes flare tremendously from between his eyelids to flow like liquid around
his body, encompassing it in the same fires that display in a minor fashion the being that Alexander is behind the mortal
skin. He thrusts Runeblade towards his opponent in the distance as the Sword of Hope beckons forth a similar bolt of power,
ivory in color with a spiraling green flame around it, showing distinctly the almost symbiotic connection of Alexander and
Uriana, the angelic spirit that resides within Runeblade. The two collide as both combatants now lock themselves into this
assault, neither willing to give any quarter to the other when suddenly, the center of this shimmering white and green display
opens, as a mere hole forms. The outer ring is pushed out as it overlaps the dark power of Valarus, each display of raw energy
now free of the other to strike out at their intended targets. Alexanders eyes close tightly as he raises his free hand out,
as if he could block this power, yet sadly enough, it tears into him, fighting back the immortal flame that surrounds Alexander
as armor, cloth, metal and flesh are ripped at. Slightly at first, then in seconds Alexander falls to his knees, no longer
being able to keep himself upright as all he can now focus on is fighting back this evil force that gnaws at him. The now
circular beam of light that hollowed out comes to bear upon Valarus in the same manner, threatening to do the same to him
that befalls Alexander at this very moment.
Valarus keeps his hands locked on the handle of his mighty axe. His eyes still burn with hellish fires, and these lock upon
the power coming at him with untold velocity. Afraid to move his axe for fear of breaking the power, Valarus mearly lowers
his head a little and takes the full impact of Runeblade’s divine power. It tears at his flesh. His armor, already destroyed
beyond repair is shattered completely, leaving the former slave master completely naked. His pallid body erupts in a wicked
tapestry of wounds. Blood pours from everywhere, coating what was not already sanguine, and covering even Kaizer’s blood.
He keeps his axe held straight for as long as possible, before turning it in his hands and placing the twin blades between
his body and the power. For an instant time seems to stop, then like so many times in the past, it starts once more with a
terrible explosion. This rips the tattered remnants of Valarus off his knees and sends him flying quickly through the air,
stopping only when his back has slammed against the tavern wall with a viscous sound; bones breaking, flesh ripping and a
muffled cry of pain…
Alexander is declared the winner.
Revsal versus Alexander
Revsal glares at the small human that foolishly acceptad his duel. Sweat drips down his face as a breeze ruffles his cloak.
Revsal closes his eye's and his face contorts in concentration. Revsal his face skyward and suddenly wind comes out of nowhere
and swirles around him. Revsal opens his eyes and smiles. Suddenly the air solidifies into a solid gleaming blade hovering
in the air. Revsal throws out his arm and the blade soars at Alexander at an increadible speed....
Alexander watches the blade bearing down upon him as he remains motionless. He merely places Runeblade in the direct path
of the oncoming weapon as the two collide in a brilliant flash. As the light fades, you see Alexander standing as he was,
Runeblade humming in his grasp as it shakes slightly from the strong impact of the attack, yet Revsals blade is nowhere to
be found. Alexander closes his eyes and runs his the blade of the Sword of Hope between his index and middle fingers. As flesh
passes metal, the blade begins emitting a bright white light when suddenly, the entire area is filled with this heavenly glow.
A slight rustle is heard from the bushes nearby as the luminecent form of a woman enters the area. Bearing no distinguishable
features, this premonition begins to dance along the road. Elegantly, her feet move from one place to another as he body sways
in an almost alluring manner as she makes her way closer and closer to the battlefield. The figure unwraps a flowing scarf,
twice as long as she is from her waist and incorporates it into the dance as it whips about in the breeze. She makes her way
towards Revsal without seeming to even notice him as she dances in a circular fashion around him. The scarf glides over his
armor and face, feeling lighter than elven silk as the dance continues. Without warning though, the scarf wraps tightly around
Revsals arm and pulls it backwards as it is met with his weapon arm in a similarly wrapped fashion. The woman releases the
scarf and begins to dance the way she came as the other end of the scarf binds around his ankles, bearing a force tighter
and more durable than the apparent look of the fabric. The last loose bit wraps around his neck tightly as Alexander spreads
his wings and opens his eyes. Bringing Runeblade before him, he thrusts down with his wings and takes to the air in a short
arc as he brings his force downward towards his helpless target, bearing his holy weapon in a sideways slash at Revsals torso...
Revsal is startled by the sudden attack but is faster than his human opponent. Revsal flexes his mighty arms and ripps the
scarf to shredds. The jumps to the side in a desterate attempt to dodge the blade. Revsal crys out in pain as the sword bits
deep into hi arm. Getting back on his feet revsal brings his talisman up and a strong wind bolws out of the talisman and pins
alexander up against the wall of the tavern. Then Revsal turns and uses telekinetic powers to uproot some of the massice trees
that are standing nearby and throws them at the puny human.....
Alexander sees the tree coming upon him as his eyes widen. He opens his wings and arcs them slightly, catching the wind
that pins him and uses it to thrust him upward like nothing more than a pillows feather as the tree misses him by mere inches.
Alexander remains hovering in the air, his wings floating upward and thrusting down to keep him at the same level as he looks
down upon his opponent. With a slight urk, he looks to his armored boot to see a significant dent in the side, causing him
severe discomfort and pain as he realizes the tree had indeed hit him instead of what he previously had thought. With a bird-like
call, he casts the Sword of Hope upwards as it streaks through the air, disappearing behind the form of the clouds. All becomes
silent along the road as if time itself had no longer a hold of this small area. The same cloud parts in a slow movement as
a light billows down from the heavens, answering their knights call. Suddenly, Runeblade comes screaming down, as if thrown
by the hand of an immortal hand it flies like a brilliant star back to earth, its song resonating from every inch of space
amidst the road as it passes Alexander, who now is uttering a silent prayer in thanks to the heavens for their aid to him
while Runeblade bears down upon Revsal at a nearly unseen speed...
Revsal quikley grabs his shiney rapier and parries the attack. Steel clashes on steel as the two circle each other each trying
to find an opening. Alexander stubles his foot causeing him extreame pain, and Revsal sees his opening. Giving a quick downward
chop onto the runeblade and knocks it away from alexander. Teh blade flys 5 feet away and stick into the ground. Revsal then
sweeps his blade down to take the head of his opponent.
Alexander uses the stumble to his advantage as he ducks into a roll, avoiding the deadly slash. When upright once more
he springs upwards into a jump with his now more dominant foot while catching the air beneath his wings and soaring above
the crowd. When satisfied with his altitude, Alexander looks upwards as his body becomes enguled in a green, flaming aura.
his eyes burn with the same light as the flame around him forms into that of the immortal bird of fire. The Phoenix looks
down upon Revsal and shrieks at such a loud octave that it sends the people here to cover their ears or risk being deafened
by the shrill cry. The breath of the phoenix is insurmountably hot as Revsal feels it nipping at him from his very armor as
it heats up from this breath. Alexander remains motinless, as if he no longer had control over his own mortal form as the
Phoenix flies in a circle around the area, as if stalking prey. With a sudden swoop, it spirals downward, shrieking once again
as its flaming beak opens wide. The bird, carrying Alexander within its fiery heart brings its crushing beak down as it scoops
up Revsal in its maw. Bearing both its physical force, as well as the blinding heat upon him...
Revsal is startled by the the suuden attack but reacts quickley. Slashing with his rapier he distracts the bird long enough
that it drops him. Revsal lands with a thud and screams in pain as the gold armor melts into his back, caused by the intense
heat. Revsal jumps up and brings his rapier in front of him in a salute. He then turns around, wincing at the pain caused
by the gold melting into his back and awaits the judges decisions....
Dante versus Alexander
Dante appears from within the dimly lit, heavily aired tavern, and stalks out onto the tough grit. His slippers chew loudly
into the path, crunching like animals into upon the ground, as he stomps in Alexander's direction. Ice nipped skin, pale as
the newborn snow, wombed from eastern clouds, shimmers with matching irredessence to his long, dragging robe. From within
one of the silver arms of Dante's clothing comes a pallid hand, overburdened with a shaky resolution. Freezing gales begin
to pick up with each footfall, and the icy whispers of the wind sends a shiver along the spines of the onlookers. The vampire's
phalanges distance the gap to the silver, intricately designed, and inlaid hilt of his weapon - a sword warmed in it's cottage
of shadows - and wrap tioght around it. Every muscle in his body is taught, and wears the cloak of readiness, a shadowing
feeling, setting Dante up for the attack. And all at once it takes place. The sword is drawn from it's housing, releasing
a long and serpentine hiss, feigned by the scratch and hiss of metal upon metal. A heart-wrenching scream pierces the chill
night, and a soft crackling trounces upon the body of the blade, lighting it in a sulfurous flame that casts the heavy smell
of brimstone, torture to the nose. Raising his weapon, Dante holds it fast, and instead of lowering it again he looses torrent
of flames akyn to the likeness of hellfire, followed by the screaming pierce of his blade as it cuts the chosen path of his
pyre.
Alexander's flaming aura erupts around his armored form, casting a faint green hue around a near meter circumference upon
the ground around him. His eyes watch Dante with keen precision as he releases this flame upon him. Alexander crosses his
arms before him and lowers his head as the hellflame meets the eternal fire released from Alexanders own soul to now cover
his body. Fire battles fire as Alexanders body is surrounded within the extreme heat which begins to melt the rocks and small
pebbles at his feet. As the battle of flame continues, you suddenly see Alexander shoot upwards into the air, wings outstretched
as what little is left of Dantes attack is consumed by the green aura around him. When he believes he has gained sufficient
altitude, he remains in a single spot around the battlefield, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow as much as he can with a
silver gauntlet. " Come Dante, " He yells to his opponent below. " The child of evil will hold nothing back from you. You
cannot afford restraint upon the morrow. Have none now!! " As the last word is spoken, Alexander raises Runeblade high as
the sword of hope glistens in the air. The runes engraved upon the blade begin to glow with a truely holy and awesome brightness
as its song calls forth to the heavens. Acknowledging and responding to the call, a beam of light, no bigger than the blade
itself casts down to touch upon the very tip of Alexanders weapon. Runeblade begins to hum and vibrate as if it were taking
in this light as Alexander brings the sword down with all his might, carrying with it this extention of light as if it had
elongated the blade a hunderedfold as it bears down its wrath upon the thief below...
Dante squints his occuls, a silver haze coming over the panes of his eyes, they ebing the windows to his mind. Every light
that shudders and dances above is caught upon the leafy-green wells, set deep and resolute within his skull. Black as the
most horrific cavern, Dante opens his mouth, a doorway for his words and a monstrous seeming thing, judged by the long and
talon like fangs that hang like stalagmites from the roof of his mouth. A sickening sight exposes itself, as a strangely shaped,
multitudinously haired leg juts from his chasm like throat. His adams apple bobs with grotesque activity, as his throat widens
and bulges, as if inhabited by some huge demon. Biddingly slow, an obsidian coloured arachnid begins to ascend from the putrid
chambers of Dante's body, while Alexander's sword moves in a downward slash, tearing the land behind Dante into a ruinous
state as it approaches the vampire. Tearing flesh sickend even the most iron stomached, and now is now exception, for the
fat-bodied spider seems to rip from it's confines, as if from some egg sac. The vampiric thief's body splits, bursting like
clothing at the seams, and pouring out a flood of steaming, and bubbling blood, which sloshes a deep, red river towards the
oncoming blade of light. As they meet they blood is sent spluttering throughout the area, drenching everything in it's burning
power. The charcoal arachnid, having been forgotten at the split of Dante, seems to have disappeared. Low hisses emanate from
the eaves of the forest, and suddenly a net of gossamer twine is hurtled high into the air at the motionless Alexander. Another
streakes forth, followed by another, and another, and another until uncountable webs have been spit forth. that retract inward,
the spider appears, sucking itself inward, and changing it's color to that of pearl, and Dante appears. With the capture nets
set forth, Dante retreives his sword from the earth, and hurls it up at Alexander, the entire thing spilling over with molten
flames, some of which break away and form deathly spires which approach the knight of hope from all different sides.
Alexander's eyes widen in horror as Dantes form splits to reveal the eight legged monstrosity that came forth from inside
him. His attention is suddenly turned however from place to place on his body as he is swiftly immobilized by the silken strands.
Trying his best not to struggle in effort to dissuade being tangled further, he curls the wrist that holds his blade in a
futile attempt to cut free his sword arm. His attention is immediately called to the sword that now streaks toward him, followed
closely by the arrows of fire. His eyes erupt in holy flame as he looks upon the spires, ignoring completely the sword of
Dante. The spires begin to shiver slightly as they quicken their pace, overtaking the swords remarkable speed as if commanded
by the sheer will of the phoenix made mortal. Their speed grows as Alexanders eyes close, preparing for their strike as the
flames hit their target, jarring the web violently yet as this happens, you see the flames streak down the strands of webbing
that hold him firm. Swiftly the entire web is set aflame as strand after strand break loose, lowering Alexander considerably.
The sword streaks past Alexanders head closely, had it not been for the now lowered form of the holy knight, the blade would
hav buried itself deep within Alexanders chest as it too cuts through a strand. With that cut, Alexander falls in a tangled
web of flame to the ground as dust lifts up to obscure the view of everyone in the area. A shadowed form becomes visible as
the dust begins to settle around Kelay way yet it bears no resemblance to Alexander. The wings are leathered instead of green
feathers and the armor has changed. The dust is swept clear in a single gust of wind as you now see the form of Talaryn walking
towards Dante from the direction of the crater Alexander had made upon impact with the ground. He sneers at the thief before
him and without a word, lifts his hand up in the direction of Silk as she freezes in place. He raises his index finger as
Silks form begins to rise in the air, commanded by the young draconian as his view still locks with Dante. A truely wicked
laugh comes from him as you see Dantes own sword come down from where it was cast, still bearing the flames around it as Talaryns
eyes widen along with his wicked grin. The sword shoots through the air at a commendable speed yet as it comes closer, you
see it not aimed at the thief before him, no... its target now floats above the ground, frozen in place by the child of Solaris
as the flaming tip of the blade comes ever closer, not simply aiming for Silk, but the unborn child that rests within her.
" What shall you do Dante? Save the ones you love yet sacrifice yourself only to give them a pain that would surpass the blades
strike? For I shall not remain motionless long and I thirst for your blood. Or face your enemy at the expense of your own
love? Choose wisely fool... Pain... or the pain of the ones you love... "
Dante looks wildy, a light springing up in his forests of eyes, and resting in a suspended gaze upon Talaryn. His senses reel,
and his mind boggles in confusion. Water wells into his eyes and tiny droplettes of crystaline luminescence streak over his
face, cutting pathways in the small film of dirt that cakes his face. A palm retreats to his face and wipes away the showings
of cowardice, and fear, and a firm resolve can be seen to rest deep within his tormented mind. Silk, his wife, whom he may
lose tomorrow is there, helpless, and at this Dante simply snaps. Cold, and with no signs of sympathy, the vampiric one tosses
his hand to the sky, and summons up a raging gale. Heavy winds blow in even heavier clouds, darkling in their body, and glowing
in short, quick, pernicious flashes of anger. Two shoot down towards Talaryn in a spidery exposition, while thousands more
approach from over the sea, tearing apart the land from Kelay to Cenril. Hundreds come, all raging at Talaryn, but one streaks
to his side, burying into the earth. The jolt of power inacts another elemental torture, causing the earth to just upward
in jagged peaks just to Talaryn's side, while others approach from just below him. Tree's of the forest turn a deathly brown,
and creak and crack before falling, and catching in the gust of winds that all gravitate to the draconian foe. A figure appears
in the tumultuous show of bellicose ingenuity, and Dante stalks up to the dragon, unscathed by his magics, for around him
they form a protective orb. Gossamer threads intertwine about his fist, and shape into that of a sword, arched and ridge-backed.
With one violent, and belligerent thrust, Dante causes the elements to layer upon the dragon in a godly force, with a weapon
formed of Dante's very essence striking like a cobra upon him.
Alexander shouts " ENOUGH!!! " into the night sky as his hand falls, causing both Sword and Silk to lower unharmed to the
ground. The form of Talaryn melts away as if made of a colored liquid to reveal the form of Alexander within. He leaps into
the air, arcing his head backwards as his arms spread out to either side. A fearsome shriek eminates from Alexanders throat
as the knight calls upon the very forces of the land, tapping into near the same power that had called it as the winds die
down, the earth falls back into place and the waters finally calm. As the resonating sound fades, Alexanders body relaxes
to view the destruction about not only Kelay, but the main area of Cenril as he looks down to Dante in anger. Immediatly he
drops from the skies, landing in a loud thud as his boots hit hard upon the ground. His wings fold behind him as he then sheathes
his holy weapon. " How much is your anger worth to you Dante? You hold it so close... Look around you. Look to the eastern
city. ALL THOSE PEOPLE!!! Will you let your anger wreak havok accross the land? Would you dare let innocent lives be lost
in this effort tomorrow? If this rage you have within you can be called upon in a single moment as it has been now, then there
will be far more deaths and tears from all across this land. Should you let this vile substance grip you, then I guarantee
you shall lose your life to the boy. "
Dante breathes heavily as the glowing sword which he formed metls away, leaving his arm hanging in the air, shuddering at
every thought that rushes through his mind. Suddenly, he drops to his knee's and looses a relieving breath.
Kaizer versus Alexander
Kaizer stands silent amidst the chaos of the arena and the lamenting skies above, staring blindly into the cruel vastness
of Hell. The wailing spirits churn about in the torrents of wind and flame, seeming to reach out toward a flicker of hope
that has been torn from their mind and cast out into the writhing flames of Hell. The foul light of the crimson skies casts
an eerie glow upon the sands of blood, blanketing the surrounding walls of the arena in a putrid haze of red. Kaizer’s
gaze slowly moves from the skies above and falls uncomfortably upon Alexander, seeming to pierce his flesh and rest upon his
very soul. A glimmer of crimson kindles in Kaizer’s eyes as his lips gently break, releasing a foul breath that carries
the song of a hateful curse, "within you lies the courage of light and in you their faith now resides but what hope can there
be for the souls devoid of their lives?" As the whisper falls from Kaizer’s lips, the skies of Hell suddenly darken.
A fell cry sounds from above, shuddering against the walls of the arena and shifting the bloodstained sands below. Before
the piercing echo fades from hearing, another cry tears its way through the sky, pounding against the ground as it falls from
its speaker. The skies suddenly illuminate as hordes of souls indulge in their hatred and cast a wicked glance through their
burning eyes at Alexander. Suddenly, the spirits fall from the sky, leaving a trail of blackened flames in their wake as they
hurl themselves toward the ground. The sands beneath Alexander suddenly shift as several burning figures break their way through
and wrap themselves about Alexander, lifting him from the ground and high into the air. The souls swirl madly about Alexander,
tearing Runeblade from his grasp and sending it plummeting into the arena below. As Alexander struggles, the flames intensify,
strangling his air and tearing at his body
Alexander struggles against the hellish figures grasp upon his body while looking about frantically for his weapon. Not
finding what he seeks, he looks upwards as his eyes burn with an even brighter hue of green as the flames seem to dance about
his very pupils. His body stiffens as the helfire takes hold of him, casting a reddish light to augment that which already
lights the area. As his body is engulfed completely, you notice that he makes not one move to free himself, as if he wishes
for the flames to consume him. They dance and swirl about his body when suddenly, the flames turn a leafy green color and
explode all around Alexander. As they touch the burning figures, they immediatly drop him to the ground where he finds his
weapon lays a mere arms reach of his body. THe figures wail in pain as the holy fires waft up their bodies, burning their
horrid forms to nothing but ash. Rising to his feet with sword in hand, Alexander raises it to the air as a glimmering white
light eminates from the very tip. It illuminates the whole arena in its wake as the hellish spirits are encased within it.
High pitched wails and indescernable curses come from within and slowly die as the light fades. When sight is at last restored
to those in the area, they see the very same spirits glowing brightly as they rise into the air and dissappear, whispering
their gratitude for being released as they blink one by one from sight. Alexander lowers his now angered gaze to Kaizer as
he takes flight above him. He whirls the sword of Hope before him and breaks down, bearing all his might into a single thrust.
The tip of Runeblade pierces Kaizers armor in but a fraction or the dark metal as the runes on the blade glow, each with a
seperate color. The light curves around Kaizers body again and again, forming a cocoon of pure light around him as Alexander
pulls Runeblade from Kaizers Armor, completing the entrapment. He then places a single hand to the cocoon as his hand shoots
a small bolt of holy flames into the cocoon, intent on destroying any evils they find within...
Kaizer’s body ignites in the holy flames as he remains sealed within the aura of light. A sudden rumble quakes about
the arena as the light surrounding Kaizer begins to flicker, seeming to weaken. The ground quakes even more violently as the
flames of Hell surround the tomb of light and tear Alexander’s palm from it, hurling him away with such force that is
drives his body to the ground and forces it along the red sand for some distance. The flames about Kaizer quickly drown the
light that binds him and fade, leaving his armor with a crimson hue they do so. Kaizer’s eyes begin to pulse wildly
as he bends his hateful glance toward Alexander. His teeth bear down against themselves as he raises a clenched fist in Alexander’s
direction. A blackened aura slowly forms about his hand, seeming to bend the tainted light of Hell and distort its reflection.
The dark haze gradually edges its way along Kaizer’s arm and spreads about his body. Kaizer’s figure begins to
flicker in a faint breeze as his body flexes and contorts within the aura of darkness. A cruel smile forms about Kaizer’s
lips as his body lifts from the ground and evaporates into a dark mist that gradually suffocates the light from above. The
arena is suddenly silenced by a deafening cry of laughter that shudders its foundation, working several scorched bricks loose
and hurling them to the ground below. A sudden gust of wind sends the mist swirling about Alexander, shrouding him in a cover
of darkness that blinds you of his entire being. As the air is torn away from Alexander, the mist works its way into his mouth,
forcing itself deep into his body. As the mist fades from about Alexander, he remains motionless, sitting upright in the sands
of the arena. Alexander’s face turns pale as a look of terror grips his senses. His mouth suddenly opens and a jet of
flame escapes, devouring his body from within
Alexander releases a bird like call in pain as the flames burst from his mouth. He grasps his neck tightly as he hunches
over, shooting the flames wherever he looks. His grip tightens around his sword as he begins to shake from the intense pain.
Adjusting his grip upon the hilt of Runeblade so that he now holds it upside down, he thrusts the blade into the center of
his chest, the tip piercing through his back as the shriek he emitted resonates along the arena walls. The sword shivers as
it halts its way through Alexanders body as he falls to his knees. The sword of Hope still shines its holy light as it battles
against the torrent of heat. As the light touches the flames, they slowly begin to die down as if being quenched by an unseen
force as Alexanders mouth sends out a faint white light. Alexander pulls the sword swiftly from him as the wounds magically
close behind. Breathing heavily and sounding hoarse from the flames attacking him from inside, he rises to his feet and holds
his arms out to the sides. A green, flaming aura bursts forth from his body and takes the form of a Phoenix around him as
he thrusts Runeblade into the ground between him and Kaizer. The flames around him grow in intensity as the bricks igninite
and vapourize upon touching the aura. Alexander places both hands to the butt of Runeblades hilt as it rings out loudly. The
flames dance from Alexanders fingertips and spiral around his weapon as he pulls his hands back and clenches his fists. He
thrusts his hands forward as a shear force of Phoenix energy shoots from his entire body towards Kaizer as a bolt of holy
energy shoots from his weapon to surround him from the sides, cutting off his means of escape...
Kaizer stands motionless as the phoenix embodiment hurls its way toward him, tearing across the arena and singeing the red
sands in a wake of green flames. Kaizer raises his arms at shoulder height with his palms facing the oncoming attack. As the
energy reaches Kaizer, it tears through his body, pulling its tendrils apart and soiling the sand beneath him in his blood
and entrails. The energy forces its way though his body and hurls into the ground, splitting the arena floor and collapsing
part of its massive wall. As the vicious clouds of green flame die, Kaizer remains standing, seeming to hover slightly above
the ground in two halves. A powerful wind swirls angrily about his body, lifting his entrails from the ground below and forcing
them back into his chest as the halves rapidly stitch themselves whole. Kaizer’s feet slowly sink into the bloodied
sand beneath him as he stares unblinking toward Alexander. The flames of Hell suddenly lash out at Kaizer, twisting about
him as his figure grows and stands in all its immensity. Kaizer’s eyes blacken and fade from sight as a cloud of darkness
boils from within their sockets and engulfs his face. He raises his massive hand toward Alexander once more, slowly inclining
his head as he does so. As a whisper falls from Kaizer’s lips a crimson light pulses toward Alexander, tearing him from
Runeblade and lifting him from the ground of the arena, helplessly suspending him. Alexander’s body suddenly hurls itself
toward Kaizer, landing his throat hard upon Kaizer’s opened hand. His scorching grip encompasses Alexander’s neck
and begins to crush his throat, starving him of his precious breath. As Alexander dangles helplessly from Kaizer’s grasp,
a sudden burst of flame erupts from Kaizer’s free hand, elongating into a crimson blade wreathed in the darkest flames
of Hell. Kaizer’s eyes stare deep into Alexander’s as he raises the tip of the blade to his face. He slowly edges
the blade toward Alexander’s mouth where it gently stops against his clenched teeth. The flames leap anxiously from
the blade and lick at Alexander’s eyes, robbing him of his sight as they hungrily devour the flesh upon his face. He
writhes in pain as the blade breaks through his teeth and slowly edges its way into his mouth. A violent burst of blood erupts
from Alexander as the searing blade tears its way into the roof of his mouth.
Alexander raises his hands up and press against the crimson blade as they try to stay the slow thrust. He coughs and gags
as fresh blood wells down his throat. Placing all his might into a single move, Alexander begins to force the blade back to
Kaizers profoud surprise. Each uses all their might to move the blade in their favor as it finally leaves Alexanders mouth.
He coughs and spits a large clotted blob of his own lifeblood at Kaizer hoping to at least distract him if not hit him in
the eyes directly. His aim betrays him as his blinded attempt misses Kaizer completely. Near spent of his strength, Alexander
opens a single wing and thrusts it to the side while releasing the blade. As the momentum carries him, the blade misses him
yet cuts deep into Kaizers forearm as it slices through the tendons, inevitably releasing his hold. Alexander falls to the
ground and leaps backward as he looks around with now blind eyes Finding nothing but darkness, he merely stands tall where
he is. Alexander lets Runeblade lay where it is and places two fingers to his forehead as his eyes close. He whispers a silent
prayer as you notice the whole arena begin to brighten in select areas with a soft light. The light waves back and forth as
you notice they take the forms of 5 female angels. Each ones beauty is profound, as if one could love them for all time in
the split second that they are first noticed. They bear no armor... No weapon as they float from the air above the combatants
to stand at opposite ends of the arena. Alexanders eyes remain closed, his prayers not faultering as each angelic figure seems
not to walk, but instead float towards Kaizer as each extends a palm gently to him. As each touches his form, a soft light
flows from them, into Kaizers own body. It causes no sliver of pain but sends a warm, comforting feeling through him as his
body is enveloped in the soft light. His armor changes into a white colored, and majesticly soft garb as each angelic figure
speaks at the same time, as if all must share but one voice. " It is time Kaizer..." They say to him. " Your time in this
land waivers on the mere head of a pin. Repent, and be forgiven for all time." their gentle voices say as if carried by an
unheard yet truely wonderous music as their forms begin to fade, taking that of Kaizers with it, bound for the gates of heaven...
Kaizer’s body slowly begins to fade as the Angels’ song flow though his tormented mind, seeming to fill the voids
with a happiness long lost in the centuries of turmoil and anguish. Suddenly, a spark of hatred kindles in Kaizer’s
eyes as his form suddenly darkens and remains standing as the Angels fade from view. His head lowers to the ground as he grips
his hands tightly, pondering on the words of the Angels, seeming to wage a battle deep inside his tainted soul. He slowly
raises his head and faces Alexander, his eyes glowing in a soft hue of crimson. His lips suddenly break as he speaks in a
fell voice, "It would please me greatly to depart from this cursed realm and leave you all to the delight of the Immortals
I imprison but to do so would only grant me passage to another Hell that can prove as treacherous as this one. I will stay
and waste away in the pits of the wretched realm" Kaizer slowly turns away from Alexander and stares off into the distance
Kaizer extends his hand once more, producing a vividly glowing stone. With a single gesture, Kaizer tosses the stone over
his shoulder, sending it spiraling through the air toward Alexander.
Alexander versus Alaric
Alexander finishes stretching his wings and spreads them wide in a menacing fashion. Although he is primed to take flight,
he does not leave the ground. Instead, he raises his sword to the air as it glimmers in the sunlight. His body erupts in its
custom Phoenix aura as he looks upwards and sends out a shrill cry to the heavens, asking them for their aid. As if a silent
response were given, the area darkens as if the blackest night comes upon the land, leaving only the forms of Alexander and
Alaric visible to those who lay in wait of the impending attack. In the distance, you begin to hear what seems to be a musical
note, then another, and another as if a flute were being played by an unseen minstrel. The music gets louder as a faintly
glowing form enters the area. It appears to be that of a young woman, dressed in a long flowing dress and carrying a long
sash about her. As she comes into a slightly clearer view, she begins to dance about the area to the now resonating notes.
The beauty of the music is matched only by the elegance of the womans dance. The sash flows freely in the air as she dances
around Alaric, not pending any known threat to him. The sash brushes along his armor and the skin of his neck softly as she
continues to dance around him. Without warning however, the sash slowly begins to tighten around the appendages of Alarics
body. In one single moment, the sash clamps down hard, yet still retains its delicate illusion as Alarics body is wrapped
tightly in the fabric. The woman releases her sash and dances from the area, leaving the now helpless Alaric standing there,
unable to move as Alexander rushes forward with his weapon, thrusting out with his wings to gain an even greater speed as
he slashes forwards at his opponents chest, bearing all the might of the Knight of Hope with it....
Alaric hears the music and watches the woman curiously wondering why she would choose to enter the field of battle. His grey
eyes then widen as he feels the bonds tighten around him and he struggles to free himself, however this only causes the fabric
to tighten quicker so he relaxes and takes a deep breath, fighting the terror that threatens to consume him. He looks at Alexander
and sees him coming at him at a pace much too fast for the warriors liking. Alaric tries desperately to find a way out, when
suddenly a gleam is seen in his fierce eyes. He calmly waits for Alexander’s approach, and at the last moment uses all
the energy he can muster to leap to the side, letting his opponents own blade slice through the scarf restricting him. A sharp
hiss escapes him as he finds he didn't act quite quick enough. He raises his hand to the piercing in his armor and feel the
slight warmth of his blood through his fingers. Greeting his teeth Alaric narrows his eyes at the knight before him. He then
grips his light, and lithe sword righter in his hand, and charges forward with a loud battle cry. As he reaches Alexander
he uses the weapons speed to his advantage, thrusting rapidly at various weak points in the birdman's armor. It seems that
instead of one Alaric wields many of the thin sharply pointed rapiers. He continues his onslaught, hoping to pierce a vital
point of he foe to end the fight soon...
Alexander urks and lunges forward instinctively as one of the sharp points hits underneath his right wing, peircing underneath
the feathers as a single spout of blood shoots from the opened wound. Alexander rolls at an angle, barely avoiding the other
blades as he rises to his feet and leaps upwards, attempting to catch the air underneath his wings, yet balks in pain as his
right wing refuses to spread. He lands as if bowing to an empty road as he looks to his wing and pulls out the few damaged
feathers. Mistakingly, he tugs out a bloodfeather as another wound begins to pour with his blood. Alexander curses under his
breath and rises to his feet, turning to face his opponent as his grip tightens on the hilt of his weapon. Already, you begin
to see the flames around his right wing pop and sizzle along his wound as it slowly begins to clot itself shut. His eyes focus
on nothing but Alaric, as if he could look right through his very soul as he suddenly thrusts his weapon into the ground and
spreads his arms outwards The blade and hilt begin to glow with a brilliant white light as a single sliver of luminecence
directs itself to the center of Alexanders forhead. His neck jerks back slightly as his body tenses. He takes a single step
backwards for support and draws his arms back. A small crack forms from where the blade impacted the earth and slowly opens
larger. You notice a slight movement from beneath as a near dozen vines shoot out from the ground and begin to whip at the
warrior in attempts to distract him while Alexander slowly lowers his head, you notice the hue in his eyes turn from their
original flaming green, to a pulsating white, matching the light eminating from his weapon. He lets out a loud shout and thrusts
his hands forward as the light from the sword dies. A glorious flash of holy energy shoots not only from Alexanders now extended
hands, but from his entire body, as if giving his own energy into this holy bolt as it streaks towards its target... The opponent
before him...
Alaric smiles slightly as he sees Alexander's attempt at flight fails due to his injured wing. He then braces himself as his
foe stares at him, but returns the knights gaze with one of his own, both seeming to pear into the others souls to find what
they are capable of, and searching for some kind of weakness to gain the upper hand. Suddenly, Alexander's weapon begins to
shine with an inner light, and Alaric widens his stance once more preparing for an assault of some sort. When the ground opens
and the vines lash out at the brave warrior, he uses both his sword and shield expertly to try and ward off the attack. His
injured arm casing pain to flare up when ever one pf the thick tendrils smashes into his shield. After a few moments swear
pours from Alaric, as he stands there [panting, having made mulch of his leafy assailants. Wiping some of the salty water
from his brow Alaric looks up just in time to see the holy blast of light comes towards him. Unable to do much else he raises
his shield and sends a silent prayer for protection. The force of the blast hits the valiant warrior full on, sending him
flying back to land hard into a tree, the impact causing the leaves to be freed from the braches holding them. Alaric grunts
and stands up his ribs feeling at least seriously bruised, if not broken. A trickle of blood slides out of the corner of his
mouth and his wipes it away. He looks about for his weapon, and finds it a few yards away from. Cursing heavily to himself
for dropping both his guard, and his sword, he reaches behind him to unhook the crossbow from his back. Leaning heavily against
the tree for support, he aims the long range weapon carefully at his foe, then pulls the trigger sending the bolt racing towards
Alexander. The arrow seems to scream for the human/bird hybrid’s blood as it soars towards not his heart, but his unprotected
throat with deadly accuracy...
Alexander watches the mere physical bolt come towards him as he leaps into the air, hoping the flames have healed enough
of his wing to at least dodge the attack. His wing painfully as it is, holds true as he takes into the air. Suddenly, Alexander
is sent sprawling for a moment as the bolt grazes his armored boot, shearing through the silver metal with relative ease,
and lodges itself just above his ankle. Alexander cries out in pain, yet somehow seems to remain mobile in the air. Regaining
his bearings, he rises towards the clouds where he suddenly stops his asent, looking up at the skies as blood falls like rain
from the inside of his boot. Alexander lifts his hand upwards to touch his head as he whispers a short prayer in his native
tounge. More a compilation of chirps and screeches than known words. The battleground suddenly turns from pitch black, to
blinding white as it attacks the eyes of Alaric in its wake to effectively take his sight for even a brief moment. The gates
of heaven open above as Alexander hurls his sword with full force into the golden gates where it dissappears for a moment.
In that moment, all is silent when suddenly, the sword streaks down, as if hurled by an immortal hand, the sword darts downwards,
trailing a beam of light behind it like that of a shooting star. The gates of heaven begin to close as Alexander looks up
and smiles, thanking the spirits above for their aid as the sword shoots past him. Alexander Arcs his body down and thrusts
his wings as he plummets towards Alaric, the flaming aura billowing out even larger around him, still mixed with the light
that had entered his body before. The flames take shape and form a gigantic flaming bird, bearing Alexander where its heart
would normally be. It sends out a pummeling "SKREEEE!!!" as it opens its beak and shoots forth a blast of holy fire as it
retains its open beak, screeching again as it opens even further, aiming its massive form at Alaric as its claws point at
him, ready to slash, its beak aiming for his head, ready to bear its force upon his head as it comes down upon him...
Alaric grits his teeth in both pain and anger as he views Alexander take flight causing his shot to miss its mark, however
he gains a small measure of satisfaction as the bolt digs deeply into Alexander's foot, casing a grievous wound, and a loud
scream. He barely hears Alexander's low words, the sound of his own blood and heart beat drowning much else from him, as he
focuses on ignoring all the pain racking his battered body. As the bright light engulfs everything Alaric turns his head and
closes his eyes letting out a string of curses, followed by a cough that brings even more blood to his mouth. He feels the
crossbow drop from his hand as he loses his grip, his energy ebbing from his body at a frightening pace. Hearing the loud
screech he manages to look up through squinted eyes to a horrible sight, that of Alexander engulfed in flames and heading
straight for him. Tears stream down his eyes as he knows he doesn't have the strength left to deflect this final assault.
Gritting his teeth again he stands up as straight as he can on his own feet determined to meet his end with all the valor
he can manage. A warm peaceful feeling begins to flow through him and he wonders if it's the other world calling to him, and
soothing him. Then the heat intensifies and he feels strength return to him. Without warning Volcanon emerges from him only
to encase the warrior and lend him his powers. Alaric doesn't have time to wonder how his friend was able to recover from
their last battle so quickly before Alexander comes crashing down at him. Alaric raises his shield to meet the mighty assault.
The holy fire of the phoenix forms into a powerful blade to replace the weapons he lost before, and when the two sacred weapons
meet a resound crash echoes across the land. The momentum of Alexander's decent forces Alaric to his knees and the knights
blade finds it's way past his defenses to add another gash into the warriors already tattered armor, along with it more blood
spill onto the dry ground, to pool around the combatants feet. With a rageful roar Alaric goes into a berserkers rage attempting
to tear Alexander's armor to shreds, as well as tear asunder his limbs and end this battle as well as he attackers life, his
movements are powered by his inner strength as he strikes out rapidly with his mystic blade to destroy all that stand in his
path to protecting this land that he hold so dear to him....
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|