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Aniket versus Nalsatu
Aniket walks into the druidish temple, swaggering a bit from side to side as he has just came from the Kelay Tavern. Azure
eyes flash about within the pale skull of the man before the lock upon the vampire inhabiting this area before him. The assassin
stops instantly, gaze piercing through the armor of the druid, searchingfor an opening within the metallic armor upon him.
The pale right hand of the assassin slowly slides down to his side, and removes two small daggers from his belt. The unspectacular
blades are nothing to look upon, rather they have been shaved down on the edges to make their tips that much sharper. With
a slight grin,the assassin unleashes the deadly pair of blades upon the vampire before him. They slice through the air without
even making an audible noise, aimed for the shoulders of the target before them. With a grin that stretches out the soft skin
of the assassin’s face, he yells out, and then dashes behind the pair at a break-neck speed. Within a few meters of
the vampire, the assassin’s right hand grips tightly around the hilt of the katana upon the right side. The gold tinted
hilt suddenly vanishes beneath the powerful grip of the man, and the cold, silver steel springs forth to life, carving the
air into an arc, poised to cleave the vampire’s right arm off.
Nalsatu is kneeled down in front of where his friend had been slain. He looks like he is praying to him. You are not sure
of what he is saying. As soon as he ends his prayer he hears the noice of someone very loud. He goes to stand and is instanly
impaled by a dagger. The Druid then stands up as quick as he can to notice a drunken assassin standing before him. The druid
quickly begins to chant. As he does this his hands start turning red and soon after a fireball appears in his left hand. He
jumps into the air and throws a fireball towards the center of your chest. He gently lands on his feet and looks at you waiting
for his fireball to connect.
Aniket grimaces as his blade strikes not its intended target, rather the place where the vampire once stood. His sapphire
orbs gaze into the crimson eyes of the vampire and watches him with great intensity, noting his every movement. The red flames
of the fireball soon spit forth from the druid’s hand, racing to scorch the assassin’s chest. The heat of the
fire begins to cause sweat beads on the man’s forehead, and they begin to trickle down past the long raven locks of
the human. His knees slightly bend, with the right one bending just a fraction more than the left, as the assassin prepares
for his defense. Showing his years of training and acquired skills, the human leaps to the left, forcing himself into the
thick air that inhabits this temple. The leap causes him to narrowly miss the fireball, and the man rolls into a ball to avoid
crashing to the floor. In an awesome display of skill, the assassin then jumps out of the ball, sword still in hand, and lands
on his feet only a mere foot away from the vampire. The cold steel now races towards the druid, almost yearning to taste the
warm blood radiating through the torso of the one before it, as the full slash narrows in on the vampire.
Nalsatu looks at the assassin in shock. He was unaware on how is perception was after just returning from the tavern. The
druid watches his fireball miss you as you roll out of the way. He then swings his dual-bladed staff towards your your sword.
His staff soon meets with your sword and knocks it out of the way. The druid begins to chant again. As he does this his left
hand begins to glow a brighter red then the last time he chanted. He slwoly backs up away from you giving himself some space
for his next attack.
Aniket watches with his sapphire eyes as the blow of the katana is blocked by the staff of the vampire. The redness of
the druid’s hand begins to illuminate the room and the human never takes his gaze off of the impending blow. The man
begins to smirk once again, and then kneels down, placing his right knee onto the covered floor of the temple and places his
sword beside him. He then bows his head, looking intently at something near his boot. Then, the human raises his head slightly,
and catches the gaze of the crimson eyes of the vampire. The assassin’s right hand slowly slips down and touches his
spiked shinguards, and seems to remove a small shard off of them. His left hand then mimics the motions of the right, and
now both hands clinch in fist, not revealing what lies within them. Suddenly, the man throws both objects towards the vampire,
and the weapons reveal themselves for all to see. The assassin has broken off tiny shards of the spikes upon the shinguards
and about a dozen or so race towards the vampire, none aimed for accuracy, rather aimed for causing the most damage.
Nalsatu continues to back up. As he is backing up and casts a slight smile in your direction. The druid ends his chant and
jumps into the air. While he is in the air he sends four firballs larger than himself towards your feet. On his way down he
transform himself into a bat and flyes towards the ceiling of temple. He then looks down and watches his fireballs hoping
to hit there destination.
Aniket stares intently at the vampire as he transforms himself into the flying mammal and dodges the assassin’s assault.
Still kneeling, the human prepares for the onslaught of fireballs from the druid. Sapphire orbs gaze intently at the red fires
drawing near, never wavering, seemingly trying to track their paths. He slowly rises, still keeping his knees bent. His muscles
tense, and their energy is released as he leaps into the air. Not quick enough though, one of the fireballs clash into his
left foot, causing the metal around the flesh to heat rapidly and melt, clinging tightly to the skin. The assassin lets out
a brief cry of pain as he lands on the ground and notices the wound upon his foot. He falls to the ground, grasping for a
pouch upon his belt which contains some medical supplies. As he begins to administer treatment to his foot, he nods to the
vampire bat, acknowledging the end of the duel.
Balendin versus Aniket
Balendin stands defiantly down the path for his aggressor, the pale moonlight gleaming flawlessly from his golden Guardian
Armor. As the elf stands in the center of the well-traveled path, he quirks an odd smile at Aniket, holds his finger up to
his lips then disappears to the left down another path. Not known to Aniket, the elf is now standing in front of his ferocious
dragon slave. Balendin then extends his hand gently to stroke the creature’s snout, and then he runs his hands slowly
across the beast’s scaled skin. The elf looks behind the dragon where he has a heap of armor under a home-spun cloth.
Balendin pull the cloth off of the armor revealing an enormous Guardian breastplate, as the armor sparkles just as his own
had only moments before, the ranger hefts the armor up and begins to attack it to his dragon. As Balendin then secures the
last buckle he climbs onto the dragon and takes the reins, leaning close to the dragon’s ear he whispers something in
softly spoken Elvin and then with the monstrous beat of his wings the dragon takes flight into the air with the ranger riding
skillfully along. The pair climb quickly until they reach the height of the treetops where then the dragon and its rider both
look down to see Aniket standing on the path. The elf leans close whispering yet again into the dragons ear and the creature
pumps his wings triumphantly and begins to sail quickly through the air and over the tavern below. As Balendin and his stead
get to within about one-hundred feet of Aniket, the elf pats the dragons softly on the neck and the dragon dives sharply towards
the ground. As the dragon hurriedly makes his way to the ground a hissing sound can faintly be heard, almost seeming to be
bubbling up from inside of the massive creature. At the last possible moment Erogtha pulls up sharply and then levels out.
The dragon breaths deeply as Balendin begins to stand on the back of the dragon, his feet securely tethered to the dragons
back. As the elf stand straight up the dragon then ignites as a stream of fire and flame shoot from his mouth. The elf standing
on his back pulls out his trusty bow and then withdraws a multitude of arrow. The elf pulls back on the string, his ranger
intuition kicking into high gear. The dragon turns slightly as the elf unleashes hell. All that can be seen by the crowd around
is the fire that has lit the area. Balendin lets the string go with the skill of a ranger. As the arrows streak to the ground
they seem to be hidden behind the flame.
Aniket watches intently with his sapphire eyes, never wavering off the image of the dragon nor its rider. The assassin
slowly begins to bend at the knee, muscles of his calf readying for the next movement to be played out. Raven locks flow about
the breeze in this place, and the human carefully reaches down to his side to touch the hilt of the archaic blade upon his
hip. The gold hilt is wrapped in red cloth, a ceremonial wrap given only to those of the highest order of assassins. As the
dragon fire races towards him, the knees of the assassin bend slightly more, and then at the last moment, he leaps to one
side, ducking behind a tree for cover, his true skill showing. As the flames plow into the ground where he once stood, the
heat causes him to cover his face with the dark gloves upon his hand. Sweat rolls down the pale skin of the man, but he has
escaped this assault by the elf. Blue orbs fix their gaze upon the ranger and his pet once again, and the human assassin reaches
down and carefully grips a trio of shurikens from the black leather pouch upon his belt. With deadly accuracy, perfected over
years of training, the two razor sharp edges of metal take flight towards the soft tissue around the neck of the dragon. The
third deadly weapon flies straight for the ranger, taking a path to impact him in the small opening of metal between shoulders
and upper back. With ferocity unknown in this land for many years, the assassin yells out and dashes to the tavern. In a few,
brief seconds, he arrives at the battered tavern wall. In one, truly spectacular maneuver, he easily makes his way up onto
the roof of this building. The golden hilt of the blade now shines in the pale moonlight, and the assassin removes the remaining
silver steel fluidly from its sheath. In a display of courage, he points his blade in the air, as if he is challenging the
elf rider to face him without his pet. Navy eyes then see a slight glint in the moonlight, and a smile races across the face
of the human as the shurikens close in on their targets.
Balendin stares at Aniket with death scrolled upon his pale face. The elf watches intently as the human dodges the dragon’s
torrential flame with ease and expertise. As the assassin launches his barrage Balendin smiles and digs his foot into the
left side of the dragon. With all of the training the two have become to act as one, and with his foot firmly lodged into
the dragons side the beast instantly reacts and seems to drop from the sky. Moments before the dragon touches the ground he
pumps his wings with all the streanghth he has as the Balendins hues search anxiously for his adversary, spotting the assassin
on the roof of the Kelay Tavern he smiles as the shurikens pass innocently above his head. Balendin leans forward fiercely
and whispers to the dragon. Knowing in his mind that a ranger only has the advantage at a distance Balendin remains on his
steed and begins to circle the Tavern ominously. Balendin readies his bow yet again for a second barrage. The elf stops his
target and skillfully takes aim. The elf leaps from his mount and flips in mid air, turning to face Aniket again he releases
the arrows he has on his bow. At the instant the he arrows have left the bow the elf drops it to the ground as he falls down
to the tavern with his legs bent to cushion the fall. Balendin can almost smell the stench of blood in his nostrils and with
that the ranger withdraws a shimmering scimitar from its sheath. Balendin grips the blade firmly in his hands and brings the
blade down in a smooth arch in an attempt to behead the assassin, the blade gleaming with life in the night.
Aniket glares as the shurikens fail to hit their target, but knowing that he has accomplished one of his goals. Sapphire
eyes begin to squint, carefully studying the movements of the skilled elf as he draws the arrows to his bow and releases them.
The assassin watches the tips of the arrows, tracking them with his trained instruction that he has received in his life.
He begins to bend his knees, letting the right one slightly touch the roof of the tavern. Almost kneeling, he brings his blade
forward, silver glints of moonlight playing off of the cold steel of the weapon. With careful timing, he makes very slight
motions with his right arm, moving the katana about as if weapon and arm were one. Splinters of wood fly about the assassin
as steel easily defeats wooden shafts. Some of the splinters strike the delicate, pale face of the human and a few drops of
blood find their way to the top of the building. With extreme attentiveness, the assassin locates the ranger upon this rooftop
and prepares for the assault. As the elf draws near with sword in hand, Aniket dashes forward to the ranger to meet him head
on, where he will hold the advantage. Making his way across the small distance separating the two men, the blades collide
with one another as the assassin parries the blow of the ranger. The assassin then recoils from the attack and makes a 360
spin, bringing the blade down in a tremendous arc, aimed for the delicate skin located near the ranger’s neck, where
armor cannot defend. To add to the force of the cold steel rushing towards the warm crimson blood of the elf, the assassin
slightly turns the blade into the moonlight. In doing so, the assassin shines the light directly into the azure eyes of the
ranger, hoping to blind him from the impending impact of the blade held tightly by the human. The human’s right cheek
slightly lifts, and a slight smile comes across his face as his weapon rushes down to the elf.
Balendin smiles as the assassin does not realize that his dragon is behind him and is sneaking as quietly as a dragon can
up behind him. The elf’s smile becomes one of more alarm as he sees the assassin racing towards him at a full sprint.
As the elf’s blade is meet with that of Anikets blade a shower of sparks can be seen from the ground below. Balendin
is caught slightly unaware as the light gleams brightly into his eyes, stumbling backwards the blade loses sight of its original
target. Balendins next feeling is one of excruciating pain as the blade slams into his helmet. The force of the blow knocks
him unconscious and the ranger falls to the floor of the roof with a tremendous thud. Just as the ranger hit the ground.
Claidi said, "The decision was unanimous, Aniket wins the duel. "
Iceriss versus Aniket
Iceriss stomps the ground as the duel begins to roll out in front of her, a somewhat ripple forming underneath. Then where
her foot stomped, her boot appears to just tear off, revealing a sort of paw, with razor sharp claws forming at the end. The
transformation continues up her legs and other foot, growing her a long bushy tail, and her hands growing pawed fingers and
tipping them with vicious sharp claws. It engulfs her whole body, covering her with a thick silvery pelt of fur that shines
in the sunlight and traveling up to her face. This is where the transformation takes the most dramatic effect, she begins
to grow a long snout, sharp bone crushing teeth, and wolf-like ears. Her eyes gain a more vivid color of an intense ice blue
as she howls a blood curdling cry and then puts her head back down and snarls loudly. She Fixes her gaze upon her opponent,
licking her lips, wanting to taste his blood and flesh and dashes toward him on all fours with tremendous speed. Reaching
striking distance, she springs forth into the air, fully extending her claws and goes into a series of slashes, each one unpredictable
and life threatening. Mid-slashing, she bears her teeth with a loud growl, drool pouring from the small gaps in her teeth.
Just after the last slash, she fixes a surprise lunge to her opponents throat, attempting to rip his life and soul right from
him.
Aniket enters the area in front of the landmark Kelay Tavern, maroon cloak flowing in the breeze. His raven hair flows
about, curling down to the mid-point in his back, laying on top of the blade that he handles. His azure eyes fail to waver
from the lycan who has called his name for this duel. The assassin makes no motions; arms remain bent at his sides, awaiting
the attacker. With one fluid motion, the human bends his knees, and leaps high up into the air. The dexterity of this one
is met only by those of pure acrobatic backgrounds, as at the height of his leap, he rolls into a ball. As the assassin begins
his descent back to the ground, he lands behind the streaking lycan. Having freed him from the initial assault, he looks down
to the ground, assuming a position that would mimic a pious priest. With his head still tilted down, he reaches back with
his light, right hand and cautiously removes the ancient weapon from its rest. The silver edge of the kitana illuminates the
area with tiny glints of sunlight bouncing off of its cold metal. The pale digits wrap tightly around the hilt, knuckles turning
pink from the strength the assassin possesses. He slowly turns around, and points with his unprotected left hand to the lycan.
The archaic blade tip touches the ground, and then without warning, he dashes towards his opponent. As the human draws near,
he points the blade to reflect the light directly into the eyes of the defending lycan. Within a few meters of the foe, the
weapon streaks into an arc formation and the cold steel now waits to taste the warm blood within the warrior.
Iceriss raises a lip to expose blood-stained fangs in a loud snarl, glaring her ice blue eyes at the human as she slides to
a stop and notices hes unscathed. She raises her snout upwards to the sky and lets out a rage full cry. She arches her back
slightly and shakes the pelt of fur that stands on her back, a cloud of dust forming around her. She raises herself to her
hind legs and closes her eyes as the blinding light from the human's blade reaches her eyes. But as she closes her lids, her
other senses takes hold of her. Her ears twitch to side then to the front, listening to his foot steps as he aproaches her
fastly. The blade of the weapon cuts through the tan cloud and aims itself for her chest. She reaches her pawed hand upwards
and catches the blade within her hand. Blood trickles down from her hand and stains the dirt underneath her. She roars in
the humans face, drool flying everywhere, her voice painfull to the ears. She lets the blade go and raises her paw to her
snout and licks the wound softly. She steps back a few paces and outstretches her paw to the human. A smirk plays across her
face and she raises her ears foward. At lightning speed she leaps into the air, unsheathing her sword in mid-air and swinging
it with mighty power towards the Human's head...
Aniket retracts his blade back to a vertical position in front of him, standing in a defensive position with his scantly
clad left leg pushed forward, bending ever so slightly. His blue hued eyes continue to gaze upon the lycan as she leaps into
the air. Unwavering, he slowly tilts his head down, biding no attention to the air-bound lycan whose flight will soon place
this assassin in harms way. The steel tip of the weapon slightly touches the ground, allowing the crimson blood to slowly
move down the edge of the silver metal. As the lycan draws her sword, the slight glint of sunlight is caught by the corner
of the navy orbs of the man. The crimson material on the hilt of the sword sluggishly blows about in the slight breeze, then
suddenly it streaks into a red flash. The assassin, showing his great agility, brings the weapon to clash with the sword of
the lycan. The strength of the lycan slightly overpowers the human, and the blades deflect from each other. A gash is cut
within the left arm of the assassin, and red fluid comes seeping out of the wound. In an instant, the assassin removes a pair
of shurikens from his belt, and with careful adroitness, sends them forth, slicing through the air, aimed true to the chest
of the lycan. The poisoned tipped steel weapons rush at an enormous rate, and trailing slightly behind them is the human.
Blade protrudes horizontally from the chest of the man, tip pointing for the foe. In one amazing show of skill, the assassin
leaps into the air, and once reaching the pinnacle of the leap, rushes the kitana straight down, hoping to divide his opponent
in half.
Iceriss lands hard upon the ground, digging her claws into the dirt so she might not slip. She hunches her shoulders over
and turns her gaze to the Human, noticing the crimson fluid driping from his arm. The smell of blood rushes her senses and
she breaths deeply in, letting the smell enter her nasal cavity slowly. As she does this you notice something about her eyes
and the way her posture takes a new form. Her eyes dilate and drool drops from the gaps between her bottom fangs. She becomes
crazed with the smell of fresh blood. She discards her sword to the ground, landing in the dirt and sliding into the crowd.
She lowers herself to all fours, leaping forth as the shurikens are aimed for her. The thick long pelt that covers her back
flows in the wind, the silvery coloring gleaming in the pale light. Her muscles ripple and shake as she uses all her strength
to push off the ground, running as hard as she can with tremendous speed and agility. She runs right for the human, but dashing
sideways before the small weapons can touch her. But she feels a small prick hit her on her shoulder and closes her eyes and
winces. She runs in circles around him, creating a cloud of dust and dirt that surrounds him, making it hard for him to see
her now. Her tongue drops from her mouth and she pants with excitement as she closes the circle in. She dashes to the side
once more and directs her speed for the middle of the dust cloud. She can smell him, his sweat and blood filling her with
information. She leaps forth through the cloud, aiming her fangs for the human’s throat and her clawed hands for his
chest…
Aniket gleams down to the silver steel on his blade, and sees the crimson blood lying upon it. His sapphire eyes begin
to squint as the dust and dirt flies about him, blocking vision of his prey. The azure eyes suddenly disappear, replaced now
by the eyelid as the assassin closes his eyes, knowing they are of no use for the time being. His ears perk up while the dirt
and dust cloud intensifies around him. Trained in the martial arts, he sways Blade from side to side, no real flight path
to its name. Raven locks fly about him, but he wavers not as he waits for the lycan. His blue eyes suddenly spring forth into
view, and his face shows signs of being startled. The assassin smirks, and then suddenly moves Blade into the path of the
oncoming lycan. With a quick step to his left, the assassin moves out of the direct path of the lycan, but not enough to dodge
the attacking beast. Drawing back his archaic sword, he prepares it to dice his foe in half, separating the top from the bottom.
He does not move his trained feet, but plants them firmly upon the soil beneath him to help take some of the blow from the
lycan’s attack. As the lycan now is a mere foot away, he swings with both hands the razor-sharp kitana, aimed for the
mid-section of the lycan. In a semi-defensive move, he ducks his head, readying for the impact of the warrior’s claws.
Iceriss watches Aniket grimly, claiming an impassive expression as she skillfully rolls to the side as to avoid the blade
and lands hard on the dirt. She stands, shaking the dirt from her fur, her wild instincts telling her to keep attacking. She
looks up at him, her eyes welling up with hatred and her fur standing on end. She walks over to him and outstretches the paw
that was cut from his blade, a scar already forming in her palm, “Good duel…”
Daikatana said, "after consulting with the other judges, kaizer and dakini, we have come to a decision. the winner of this
duel is..."
Daikatana pauses for effect
Daikatana pauses a little longer
Daikatana decides that now is a good time to inspect the back of his hand
Daikatana said, "...aniket."
Demont versus Aniket
Demont stands near the ladder leading up to the fresh air, his soft orb scanning the dim room and it’s surroundings.
As his eyes come to rest upon Aniket, the assassin mouths a little chant as the sounds of numerous blades can be drawn as
the enchanted gauntlets upon his hands expose ten, razor-sharp blades at the fingers. Giving his foe a small smirk he sprints
to the left and behind a row of heavy book shelves. Figuring he is just about parallel with the human, Demont begins to hastily
climb up the wooden shelves and to the top. Spotting Aniket below, he leaps from one shelf to the next one over, picking up
speed as he does. Upon reaching the last of the set, he leaps from the edge out towards his fellow assassin, arms extended
and ready to rip through the member of Eternally Damned with great ease.
Aniket watches the vampiric assassin with great heed, paying attention to every minute detail as they are observed by the
ever watchful azure orbs within his pale skull. The human’s gaze peers straight up, body not swaying but remaining motionless,
as he watches the vampire begin his assault. The pale appendages on his right hand carefully grasp the diamond encrusted hilt
of Deathbringer as Demont plunges towards him. At the last moment, the assassin takes a dive to the left, landing behind a
shelving unit titled “The Draconians” and safe from the attack His left knee now slightly touches the ground as
he squats while his right digits still grasp the finely crafted blade in its sheath. The assassin looks around, catching sight
of the vampire and suddenly flicks his left wrist, causing a small, silver cylindrical device to slip into the palm of his
hand. With an evil smirk, the human brings the item to his crimson lips and blasts a rush of stale air through the tube, causing
three tiny metal objects to race towards his foe. The smell of garlic slightly plays under the human’s nose, but not
for long as the assassin soon dashes after the objects, trailing slightly behind them. As the distance shrinks, Aniket leaps
into the air and a slight metallic ring resounds through the library as Deathbringer is brought to life. The descending path
of the leap now places the flight of the cold steel in a direct path of piercing the vampire’s neck from right to left.
Demont’s acute eyes catch sight of the three projectiles and his keen sense of smell detects the pungent odor of the
garlic. Slightly perplexed, he wonders what this stereotypical attack will do. Quickly his attention is transferred to he
now air-borne Aniket and his blade. With a snap, his massive ebon wings unfurl, creating a span of nearly ten feet. Mumbling
the veracious chant he used to extend the razors of his gauntlets, they retract, just as he begins to step to the left out
of the path of the speeding darts. At that instant the trailing object pierces his bare flesh of his shoulder, burying itself
deep in his flesh, causing a wicked discomfort deep at the bone. With a soft growl and a practiced movement, his hands dive
to his belt where he proceeds to grip the hilts of two of the four blades adorning his hips. In a simple jerk he pulls Dark
Ice and Burning Dawn free just in time to see Aniket plummet toward him. Lifting Burning Dawn, an intense white flame erupts
around the black blade and the sharp clash of metal can be heard as the weapons of Aniket and Demont meet. Wavering slightly
under the force of such an attack, he slips and Deathbringer slides down and etches a superficial scratch across his chest.
Wishing to remain stationary for the time being, he once again uses an enchantment, this time for Dark Ice. Passing his thumb
over the diamond in the hilt of said blade, he pints the tip at the near Aniket and mumbles quickly. Suddenly thousands of
shards of crystal shoot foreward at amazing speed, threatening to rip through the opposing assassin’s flesh.
Aniket catches sight of a dart striking as his weapon scrapes the skin of the vampire. A smirk comes across his face, knowing
that it is far more than just a scrape. “Soon…” he whispers under his shortened breath. The human promptly
reacts to the looming barrage of diamond shards as the light azure orbs begin to search for an escape path. Spotting a bookshelf
barely out of arm’s distance, the skilled assassin leaps, reaching for the shelving unit with his now barren left hand
as the device has slid back into safety. With a mighty tug, the books from the shelf fly off, impacting with the tiny shards.
Paper, binding, covers are ripped to shreds and litter the library floor. A few still find the left calf of the man and a
crimson fluid now finds its path from inside to out as a pool forms below him. The man winces in pain, but averts his attention
back to the vampire. His left hand drops to his side, reaching for the archaic katana upon his other hip, and slowly draws
out the edge. The man crosses both before him, creating an X in front of him as his gaze slightly breaks from the vampire.
The man leans forward, touching the blades slightly with his raven locked head, then both drop to parallel level as he sprints
towards the vampire. He swings them erratically, creating no certain flight path as he draws near. Suddenly, the assassin
leaps in the air and begins a 360 degree spin, using the weapons in a propeller motion as they now hope to relieve the vampire
of his head.
Demont grins with slight satisfaction as the shard tear through the calf of the man, hoping to maybe slow him a bit. Quickly
the grin is whipped from his face as he sees the human advance, and he places his arms in front of him just as Aniket leaps.
Struck with a sudden idea, Demont leaps skyward with the aid of his wings, but at that moment the katana of his foe finds
his flesh and digs at it relentlessly, causing a steady flow of vitae to wash over his leather clad leg. Through clenched
teeth, and now being pumped with adrenaline, the turns both his blades in hand towards he floor and throws them foreward at
his annoying adversary. Hoping for his blades to pierce vital parts of the man, his now free hands return to his hips and
retrieve the two remaining blades, Red Rose and Black Rose; Two wickedly curved and serrated blades. Following the flight
of his thrown swords, he turns Red Rose in his left downward and points it out to the left. Nearing Aniket, he swings down
with his right, sword laden hand and up in a diagonal with his left in an attempt to rip the flesh from the human’s
chest.
Aniket grins as his katana digs into the vampire causing sanguine fluid to spread forth from the wound. The orbs of the
man catch sight of the incoming projectiles, and the man carefully awaits their arrival. With skill unmatched, the trained
assassin bats both blades away, causing them to fall harmlessly into a stack of ruined books, done in by the shards. The pale
cheeks of the man slightly rise into a smile as he sees the vampire prepare a second assault, now drawing upon another set
of swords. The human crouches, creating a buildup of potential energy within his massive leg muscles, awaiting the attack.
In a split second, the assassin jumps for a bookshelf nearby, catching his footing on a now empty shelf. Now with his back
turned and his assailant a small distance away but still closing, he pushes off the wooden shelf creating an acrobatic leap.
Passing over the vampire in mid-flight, the assassin narrowly escapes the impact of the Red Rose blade. Having the advantage
of landing behind the vampiric assassin, the human throws the katana, watching it fly end over end, squarely aimed at the
back of Demont. The human now charges after the blade, seemingly wanting to catch up to it, but now raises Deathbringer in
the air, creating an arc of magnificent display as the flesh yearning sword hopes to slice the wings of the vampire off.
Demont curses silently as both of his attacks fail. Calling upon his superior speed and nimbleness, he turns head over feet
and rotates to the left as he watches Aniket pass over head. With his facade void of any emotion he dips his head back deeply
as the katana near, harmlessly passing him. Suddenly he flick his hands up along with his blades and crates an 'X' in front
of him just as Deathbringer comes in. Raising the two blades up, he catches the descending Deathbringer and halts it's assault,
though the tip, much in the same fashion as the previous attack from the weapon find the flesh of his right arm. With the
pain in his left arm now completely uncomfortable and unbearable he drops Red rose to the floor with a loud clatter and shoots
back with a strong flap from his wings, avoiding any danger that could have come from the parried sword.
Kristerl lifts her gaze to the elevated Demont, tilting it for Aniket's countenance, before announcing, "The victor is
Aniket."
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