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Xaden versus Rylan
Xaden lets out a vicious shout as he raises his axe to the air and drives it into the ground before him. As the unholy
weapon splits the earth, a dark, resonating energy shoots up from the ground to form a small sphere above Rylan. The sphere
grows in both size and intensity as Xaden raises a single hand to it, his eyes bearing the same darkened color as that which
he has created. Energy resembling electric bolts shoot around the sphere as it grows well beyond the size of his opponent
as Xaden grins wickedly and casts his hand towards his opponent. Reacting to the movement of its creator, the sphere casts
down upon Rylan and envelops him within it. When fully within this gaping mass of evil, he feels a slight tingle followed
by a sharp pain in his hand. Upon further inspection, you see his form rapidly beginning to age well beyond his years. His
hair and fingernails grow and curl at an alarming rate as wrinkles form along his skin. His mass lessens as the sprouting
youth becomes severely aged within this energy as it seeps his very life away from him at every second he is within it...
Rylan canted his head upwards, casting those blue hues towards the midnight sky. The moon hung heavy in the autumn sky, pallid
light dancing with the flickering yellow of escaping lantern light. Thin lips moved smoothly, his slender features tightening
as he whispered words of Saladin. Calling upon the gods for blessing and strength, attempting to rid his heart of the anxiety
that threatened to freeze him motionless upon the brown, well trodden earth. As if responding, the winds changed swiftly to
throw snow white strands before him in a curtain of alabastor, hiding the pale emerald flesh beneath. His gaze narrowed on
his vampiric opponent, eyes freezing into icy slits as he watched the dark warrior knit his magic. The Ranger quickly brought
his hands across, their slender fingers tightening to cause the leather bound hilts of his weapons to creak in protest. The
steel blades crossed, and as they touched sparked violently...bits of pale jade light throbbing around them before growing
to encompass Rylan's well muscled frame itself. His unholy advisary's attack caught him easily, sending hellish sensations
cursing through his flesh. It would appear the elf had no chance, centuries passing by as his flesh wrinkled and bagged, eyes
widening as his mouth dropped into a horrendous gape. Yet, the clever ranger stirred within the grasps of this necrominon,
arms straightening until enchanted blades pressed into the orb's pulsing exterior. It stretched against the blades of his
weapons, before the green charged weapons punctured and allowed him to drop from the evil before it could run it's course.
His body immediately returning to it's natural state, knees bending as boots impacted with dull thuds upon the mud. With a
snarl, the shadow's of his heart seeped out, the wind howling as it surrounded the combatants...feeding off their intensity
like a pulsing creature. The howling nightmare that surrounded them mirrored Rylan's turmoil. The Ranger was growing more
and more choleric, and released his rage suddenly. His left hand snapped down firmly, muscled arm straightening as it sent
the steel blade in his grasp hurtling through the air towards his opponent's throat. The blade moved faster than the audience
could see, splitting the ear with a shriek that echoed that of it's creator. Rylan's eyes had been polluted by the corruption
of his heart, his anger pouring into his soul and tainting his eyes a grotesque green. Unnatural, barbarous strength focused
into that single attack, and around them the winds throbbed in approval of the truculent ferocity of the attack.
Xaden makes not a single motion to avoid the blade as it buries itself to the hilt in his throat. A sputtering laugh emanates
from Xaden as the force sends his head backwards, his hands grasping the hilt and slowly pulling it from his flesh. The blade
bears a far darker ichor than what you would expect of blood, but indicates the damage nevertheless. As the tip finds air
once again, Xaden coughs, spewing more blood from his throat as one hand moves to the injury and squeezes, increasing the
delightful pain Xaden now feels. Xaden grins at his opponent once more, arcing his eyebrows to show plainly his anger and
spite. He kneels down and scoops up a handful of earth as he clenches his glove around it. A dark, sickening liquid drips
between his fingers as he opens his hand to reveal a grayish brown slime where the dirt once was. Staying in his kneeled position,
he casts his hand at Rylan, throwing the slime towards him. Missing slightly, the ooze hits the ground before him and splatters
as it takes more of the soil within it, converting it into more disgusting liquid. A single drop from the impact hits an exposed
part of Rylans skin as it sizzles and pops as it spreads into a small, flat surface. Immediately, his skin begins to show
signs of brown spots, some opening up into painful blisters as this diseased menace spreads throughout his body, threatening
both inside and out as his throat begins to become enflamed as do his lungs. The sickness spreads, causing symptoms in each
place it infects within him as Xaden places what is left on his hand to his throat, making a similar flat surface to patch
his injury as he then licks his hand clean, bearing nothing but a hungry growl as he ingests the ooze...
Rylan fought the disbeleif that gripped his heart with a callous, icy hand. The necromancer's evil cackle filled the air,
rising over the roar of the wind that through itself in one direction and then the next in the darkness, as if following the
combatant's exchange with fanatical focus. The Ranger was already mumbling words in that ancient elvish tongue, graceful syllables
almost inaudible to those around him as his melodic voice reached out. The viscious mixture, stinking with the smell of rotting
flesh and the self proclaimed Lord of Death's evil, clung to his flesh and envenomed him. His flesh crawling as it burst into
painful boils, scarlet circles giving way to oozing puss filled sores that tore apart his gentle flesh. Yet, even as the sickness
threatened to take hold of his innards and kill the courageous warrior from the inside out, his prayer to Xalious was answered.
Rylan felt his body filled with a familiar charge, azure lightning sparking from his fingertips as his natural healing abilities
were aided infinitely by the God whom he had called. Between those fingers, who's tips surged with blue tentacles of manifested
divine power, the sickness was formed into a writhing, twisting glob that remained suspended between The Ranger's nimble digits.
Then, with a cry that was lost to the howling of the wind which now throbbed uncontrollably with the evils of this battle,
he extended his hands...streamers of trailing cerulean matter followed the ghastly ball of putrid sickness as it hurled forwards
towards Rylan's undefeatable foe. Rylan's brow's were knitted, and he was resounded to win...the rage and hatred in him boiling
into a atramentous evil that empowered every bit of his being.
Xaden waits until the last possible moment before rising to his feet and bringing the hellish weapon upwards, slicing the
globe roughly in half as he twists his axe slightly. With this twist, the edges of the axe gently push apart the two halves
as they glide harmlessly past Xaden to collide with a tree behind him. Xaden snarls like some wild animal as he casts his
axe aside and simply rushes Rylan. Using his body weight to his advantage, he topples the elf over as he places his hand over
the face of Rylan. Within the simply excruciating grip, a black mist begins to permeate from the palm of his glove and shoots
into the eyes of the one caught in Xadens grip. The mist does no physical damage as it attacks the mind within. " Do you wish
to see what it is I command? Then look, and see the pure truth... A power beyond Hell, beyond life... and beyond all hope.
" Xaden whispers as suddenly, Rylans mind is bombarded with images of torment. Faceless figures claw at him as they scream
in incoherent tone in fear of their very surroundings, as if Rylan could somehow ease their undying torture. " You see? Do
you? This is what is in store for you when I rip your soul from your lifeless form... Grr... Now, join them in death eternal.
Feel what it means to die and never lose the fear, nor its cold grip. Your spirit now belongs to me!!! " Xadens hand seems
almost ethereal as it seeps into the head of Rylan and lightly begins to pull. As his hand comes back into view, you see a
faint blue form in his grasp, seemingly made out of something far finer than silken strands. Xaden grins as he carefully begins
to remove Rylans very soul from his body, grasping his throat with the same concussive force to crush the life from his mortal
body...
Rylan was hardly tormented by the visions of evil that bombarded his mind. A sick grin turning his thin lips upwards as he
burst into a fit of laughter at his foe's ridiculous tauntings, only to have it cut short by his mighty grip. He wheezed for
air, his eyes snapping open as the necromancer's fingers pushed painfully into his very being. Yet, Rylan knew he had been
dreadfully underestimated. The wind exploded at once as it's master finally unleashed the full torrent of his fury, unable
to deal with the vampire's arrogance any further. Rylan brought his right hand upwards, the glimmering blade in his hand glinting
in the moon's lurid light. With bestial ferocity, the ever irascible Ranger brought that powerful arm down...aided by the
hurricane force gale he had called upon. It's dark, throbbing, mass formed a column that swept towards Rylan's hand...growing
thinner as it's fury was absorbed by the enchanted half sword. Sensations cursed through Rylan's dying body, powers that no
mortal could harbor within the confines of his all too delicate flesh for more than an instant... On the signal of his next
heartbeat, Rylan brought that powerful arm down...it blurred from view as the power within him forced him to exert a strength
that was entirely unnatural, intent to drive the razor-like blade of his unspeakably frightening weapon through is opponent's
shoulder, seething it through the vampire's body until it exited his hip...and sent his horrid soul back to the hell's that
spawned it.
Xaden roars as the blade penetrates both armor and flesh. Releasing his grip on Rylan, one hand rises to grasp the forearm
of his opponent to prevent any severe internal damage. His other hand strikes Rylan in a strong blow across the face. While
temporarily distracted, Xaden wrenches upon the thumb of Rylan past where it normally would stop as the weapon is released
with only a fair bit of restraint. Xaden then rolls over Rylan and falls to his back rather uncoordinated over his usual grace.
Huffing at the air before him as if an exhausted breath could not reach him, he pulls the blade from his shoulder and lets
it fall to the ground as he slowly rises to his feet, hunched over as he half gasps, half growls as he holds the wound to
his now useless arm. He tenses for another pounce when he looks over to Jade as she folds her arms in disapproval of his plans
to break the rules of combat without hesitation... yet he does. His body relaxes as he sends a half growl of disagreement
to Jade as he withdraws to a mutually safe distance and stands motionless, his eyes not leaving Rylan even as the crowd whispers
to themselves...
Rylan whispered to his fallen foe "Return to the hell you love so much, villian."...and allowed the toe of his boot to dig
into the beaten earth beneath his fallen blade. With a flick, he sent it skywards, and as his arm came across to wrap slender
digits around it's leather bound hilt...it's razored blade would contact his opponent's throat. His black, visceral blood
spilling as that head left his shoulders, rolling across the ground as Rylan slipped his weapons back into their onyx scabbards.
Xaden falls to his knees and his uninjured hand as blood falls from his wounds to cover the ground. The battleaxe he left
behind explodes in a brilliant flash of light as literally thousands of forms are cast from it. Some pause to give thanks
to the one who has finally released them as they follow the others to a long desired piece. Xadens body lets out a loud shriek
in aggony as his form begins to decay and fall apart into nothing more than ash as it is carried away on the wind, leaving
nothing but silence along the road with a few loose pieces of metal that was once the axe of the undead...
and with that Rylan captures his opponent's soul, stuffing it into a bottle.
Xaden versus Arothak
Xaden closes his eyes slowly and places his arms across his chest. As his fingers extend, you faintly hear him muttering
something under his breath. Xadens body rises a mere two inches off the ground as he floats slowly in a circular fashion around
Arothak. You notice his eyes never open, his body never moving as the circle is cast half way around his opponent. The muttering
becomes slightly louder as Xaden floats along to complete this circle. Lowering to the ground exactly as he was before, he
opens his eyes slowly as he grins. “ You dare to challenge the Lord of Death… I almost applaud your ambition.
However… Such a challenge cannot go unanswered. You are not fit to sit upon my throne. And for your arrogance, your
life… and your soul shall be forfeited to me. “ Xaden screams at such a shrill note that it causes the folk watching
to cover their ears. Xaden lifts his arms to the air as the ground in which he cast the circle begins to bubble up with a
black, disgusting ooze. Several spurts of it shoot forth, grasping at Arothaks extremities. Pulling with such force that you
hear his armor creak and begin to shear apart. One last spurt of ooze shoots out to cover Arothaks mouth and nose, cutting
off his breath when suddenly, Xaden lowers his arms with authority as a truly evil energy shoots up from the outlined circle.
It peaks just above the height of the tavern as it then turns inward and billows down within to take Arothaks helpless body
within. As it hits him, you hear the smell of burning flesh as this energy begins to dissolve flesh and cloth, armor and bone,
each with the same ease as Xaden looks on, chuckling wickedly to himself as he folds his arms in his usual arrogant, yet confident
nature…
Arothak observes the circling Xaden with a watchful eye, trying to note the mighty warrior’s characteristics. His two
eyes are still watching the vampire when the black ooze begins to eat through his soft flesh, ripping straight through his
armor into the very core of his being. He was prepared for just such an assault, though. The necromancer’s will and
thoughts are quite suddenly purged from his physical body as the mass of necromantic energies collapse on him, ultimately
destroying Aroth’ak. His mind, though, floats through the thin air, and unexpectedly goes to work rebuilding the body.
‘Crimson eyes…’; ‘Black hair…’; ‘Pale skin…’; ‘Black robe, covering
dark armor…’; ‘Leather pants and dark boots…’; finally the full image of Aroth’s body
is present in the terrible mind. With the soft touch of his awareness, he takes a slight bit of life energy from all of the
elves, men, and other creatures present. The image of Aroth’s body begins to reform, starting with his long legs, moving
to his torso, and up to his face. His face is livid with rage as his body is completely rebuilt. Aroth’ak smiles slightly,
thinking that there is some hope for him yet. He ponders his current situation for a moment while he fingers the hilt of his
flaming sword, which he hasn’t even touched in some few months. Withdrawing from his short trance, he looks at that
unholy battle-axe in Xaden’s hands. That is the main source of all, or at least most, of his adversary’s overwhelming
power. Aroth’ak lets a small idea begin to form in his panic-stricken mind, allowing it into full bloom, seeing into
the core of his current problem. Still slightly taken aback by his enemy’s swelling might. The necromancer reaches out
with his will to Xaden’s unholy axe, remembering his reason for being here. Sapphire. He reaches into the heavens with
his only slightly long arms, yelling out in a loud voice, “SAPPHIRE!!!” His mind drifts out of his body all of
a sudden, leaving the vampire looking stupidly at Xaden with his long arms climbing into the sky. Aroth’s awareness
floats through the air toward Xaden and the massive axe in a dazed sort of way, analyzing the unaware opponent with a keen
eye. Then, there is Aroth’s sudden strike. His drifting mind disappears, returning to the warm abode within the vampire’s
dumb-founded mind. Aroth’ak mutters some arcane language, probably Necromantic, but not quite…Aroth’s shoulder
blades quite unexpectedly rip through his black robe, revealing two gigantic charcoal-colored wings, churning the air into
a thick and humid environment, just what he wants…He flies ever higher, his form expanding to become somehow larger.
Very soon, his shrouded figure seems to cover the sun’s blinding light, casting a black shade of darkness upon the entire
battlefield. With more unusual and ugly words, the necromancer effectively sends forth a wave of sickness, death, and pestilence,
slaughtering the tall grass, the green trees, and also the animals. Their sickening moans of pain and suffering mingle with
the shrill cries echoing through the Aroth’s cruel lips, “Xaden, you now meet the never-resting power of Aroth’ak
the Necromancer!” The entire area suddenly seems devoid of all life, bringing with it the black curtain of death. Xaden’s
flesh begins to rot at a surprising rate, small bits of it falling onto the ground in a horrible killing-off of Xaden and
his humongous might.
Xaden Lets out a truly sadistic laugh as his body begins to literally fall apart, the mind numbing pain coursing through
every part of his being. Clods of rotten flesh hit the ground and splatter with a brown ichor as he falls to one knee. Raising
his eyes to the form of Arothak, his laugh soon begins to die down to a faint chuckle as he touches the axe perched in its
holster behind him. It wails out with a feminine voice familiar to Arothak and a few others present as Xaden rises to his
feet, his body becoming engulfed in a reddish mist that permeates from his unholy weapon. His body now covered completely
by this mist, you notice that no more pieces of his body fall from his form as the mist begins to take shape, his hair grows
longer, his face becoming more calm looking as the mist forms into the body of a woman. The mist slowly turns to skin and
muscle as you no longer behold Xaden standing, but instead you see Sapphire standing in his place. She looks at Arothak and
frowns, her eyebrows lowering to show a rage none have seen from her while she lived. “ Arothak… How dare you!!!
How dare you wait so long to attempt to rescue me. I gave my life freely in the hopes you would waste no time in saving me
from this monster!! Did you ever care? Did you not think of me at all??? Even now I feel the tortures Xaden has placed me
in. I loved you once… But now I see you never cared enough, never returned the feelings I had for you!!! “ Sapphire
looks up at Arothak with hatred and spite as she lowers herself to the ground. Sapphire then places but a single finger to
the ground as her elongated nail pierces the earth. Scooping up a small bit of dirt, she lets it fall into the palm of her
hand where it begins to pulsate with an otherworldly light. Dark and sickening, it beats as if it were attuned to Arothaks
very heartbeat, both expanding and contracting in unison. “ Look fool… How easily one can hold another’s
life with relative ease… I wonder… “ Sapphire begins to grin widely as she closes her hand around this pulsating
bit of defecated earth as Arothak begins to feel his own heart feeling as if it were being crushed from within his own chest.
With a slight laugh, Sapphire observes as she opens her hand fully. As Arothak regains his bearings, she raises her free hand
to the air and brings it crashing down upon the other, squashing the bit of dirt in his hand. A red colored liquid seeps out
from between his hands as she licks it with a forked tongue. “ Mmmm… Not in the traditional vampiric style, but
your blood does taste rather good… My love…”
Arothak lets a hundred tears fall from his eyes. As he cries openly, Aroth’ak feels the force of Sapphire’s hands
crush down upon his very spirit, clawing at his very being and his purpose. His long goal, his reason for resurrection, his
entire lively hood, they’re all crushed then and there. Suddenly, a light shines upon his troubled mind, and a smirk
crosses his lips as he barely evades death by pushing out a wall built of sheer will, just in time. “Xaden…do
not try and trick me with your illusions…Sapphire w-would never s-say that!” Still not sure, the necromancer extends
his palms out to Sapphire’s being, moving around his hands in a strange fashion, just as Sapphire disappears all together,
leaving Xaden standing alone in a field with his axe. “So easily dismissed…And you call yourself the Lord of Death?
Xaden, Xaden, Xaden…” The necromancer grins slightly as the wicked idea for his next assault upon Xaden’s
being begins to form in his cruel mind. Aroth’ak gathers his will inward, storing in a small corner in his mind, setting
off what seems to be some sort of dark magik. Hundreds of glowing crimson orbs begin to appear out of nowhere before Aroth’ak,
seemingly glancing at Xaden with the stare of passing annoyance. A few of these hovering red spheres begin to smash into the
dead earth, creating some sort of mine field around the weary necromancer, both on land and in the open air. Aroth’ak
is not done yet, though. Hundreds more greenish orbs quite suddenly begin to take shape, surrounding the necromancer with
an aura the color of green mingled with a slight red. “Reminds me of snot, how about you, Xaden? Well…Xaden…you
know what snot does, right? It sort of surrounds…” He gestures toward Xaden in a sort of negligent fashion, grinning
slightly. The hundreds of green orbs begin to multiply, or something to that effect, expanding in all directions equally,
except for in Xaden’s direction, where there, the expansion of the green orbs is a bit more aggressive. More and more
begin to surround Aroth’s adversary, encircling Xaden in a greenish circles of watching-and-waiting awareness. “…The
opposing force…you know what? Why don’t I get to the point? Meet my demons, Xaden.” The green orbs begin
to fly at Xaden at incredible speeds, some almost hitting him and exploding, others missing altogether and exploding into
others of the green orbs. Its appears that all of these “Demons” are prepared to destroy Xaden by ramming straight
into him. Those greenish spheres continue to assail Xaden, some giving off mind and body warping radiations, others simply
trying to slam into Xaden’s being.
Xaden looks at Arothak no longer with amusement. His voice no longer bearing an entertained note as he growls, bearing
his elongated fangs. “ You truly wish to see what it means to master death? Very well… Witness the true power
of what you so seek to master!!! “ Xaden draws the Soulcutter axe and holds it aloft before him. It shrieks, as Xadens
own voice rings out with a shrill sound equal to that of his weapon. It flares up with a bright red light as the ground around
the area explodes as various forms shoot up among the road. You see skeletons, zombies, wraiths among other forms of dead
and undead, each bearing a hellish weapon of their own as they all converge upon Xaden, covering his form in a mass of bodies
as the demons of Arothak ram into them with full force, yet stop suddenly. A loud growl rises up from the mass of undead as
they explode from Xadens form showing a large demon of his own roaring out at the orbs. Xaden almost grins as Vhid, his demonic
partner rushes out and grasps each orb in his six hands, crushing each in his grasp as quickly as he grasps another. With
the Demons fighting amongst themselves, Xadens growing army of dead converge upon his foe. Slashing, bludgeoning, binding,
each of Xadens ever-growing army lashing out at the silent command of their master. The ground still bursting with more forms
of those Xaden has defeated, some you recognize from mutilated faces, symbols bore on armor and shields as Xaden shrieks still,
as if his breath had no end. He releases his axe as it rises up to the air, Xaden spreading his arms outwards as suddenly,
a dark energy shoots from his open mouth and strikes the axe above him. His weapon begins vibrating violently, shaking to
the point where you can no longer see the engravings upon it within the blur as without warning, it sends a bolt of pure powerful
magic and energy towards the mass of bodies, knocking some to pieces as it holds both course and intensity towards its target,
Arothak in the middle of it all…
Arothak grins widely as his orbs literally smash into Xaden. His grin fades, though, as the awesome army of pure undead enemies
begin to rise up out of the earth, attacking Aroth’ak. But he is swift to unleash his long sword, enveloped in flames,
from its obsidian scabbard, striking down nearly ten of the dark warriors before they have a chance to retaliate. Aroth’ak
puts upon others of the undead, as well, a change of heart, employing those few into his ranks. But Aroth’ak is caught
in surprise at Xaden’s sudden flash of power. His eyes look into the very core of the mighty bolt of magiks Xaden has
set forth upon him. Aroth’ak begins to erect one of his mighty walls of pure will, trying to ward off the blow, but
fails. This failure is a great blow to his mind, sending his will and soul reeling off the edge, and separating the fused
rooms of his mind from one another, putting him once again into the state he was in before Videm came to him. His true mind
stricken with the blow, the other mind takes over. Aroth’s eyes turn to a bloody color, and his fangs grow longer and
longer. His body grows strangely but only slightly larger, and his shriek is that of the purest agony. This new awareness
in his mind reaches out to all of the surviving undead and the demons, putting them into a deep sleep. “Close thy eyes,
weary warriors, for the deeds all of thou has committed to this day are unnecessary. Sleep…” His blood-curdling
eyes reach out to Xaden, grinning slightly. Aroth’ak folds his arms and looks down upon Xaden, “Pffft! You are
very sad, Xaden. You boast extreme power, but here I am, looking down upon you. I wish I could eat you. Why don’t I
have something else do that for me?” The necromancer, with a few short and ugly words, lets forth a cruel cackle from
those lips of his, sending a chill wave down your neck. The wind begins to pick up. It begins to surround Xaden, twirling
and twirling ever more, taking Xaden up into the chaotic air. The wind slashes at Aroth’s face, leaving a long streak
of blood on the necromancer’s face. With more short words in the Necromantic language, the winds become more chaotic,
moving through the surrounding forest, uprooting the trees, some perfectly green, other seemingly dead. No matter what they
are, though, they begin to evolve rapidly. Some of the mutating trees growing two bulging eyes, others growing two pointed
ears, others growing long, wicked-looking arms. Others grow all. The trees all surround Xaden, circling through the crazed
winds influenced by the necromantic magiks possessed by Aroth’ak, some trees flying at Xaden and barely missing him,
others doing nothing. Finally, they all begin a merciless charge at Xaden, thrashing at him with their wood limbs, as if crying
out, “We want to taste you blood, Xaden!” They surround Xaden, and hope to feast on him. Suddenly, as if the trees
were a decoy, a horde of scarab beetles, armored in pure gold, rush toward Xaden, their flesh-eating shrieks trying to win
the battle alone…
Xaden folds his arms as he watches in silence. As both tree and insect run towards him, he places a fingernail to the side
of his palm and drags it across, digging deep into his own flesh. As the brown, scentless ichor flows from the open wound,
Xaden flings his hand in a circle before him, Upon meeting this dark blood, the beetles begin to fester, their soft skin emanating
a distinct odor that causes them to go into a frenzy as they attack each other, devouring their whole mass together as Xaden
turns his attention to the wooden attackers. His gaze cold and merciless, the trees noticing his now full attention upon them
as they stop their advance and step back slowly in an uncertain fear. “ Foolish pawns…” is the only thing
he mutters as his eyes flare slightly with a black energy. As they do, the trees explode one by one in a mass of sticks and
splinters. Some attempt to flee, but to no avail as the road soon becomes covered in the stinking flesh and exoskeletons of
the beetles, along with the piles of broken wood from the tree formed attackers as Xaden looks to his opponent, rather unimpressed.
Xaden leaps towards Arothak claws and fangs extended as he topples the necromancer over. Landing atop him, Xaden begins to
claw and bite at Arothaks body as if entranced in his animal like frenzy. Chunks of flesh and bone fly about the area as Xaden
claws rip his opponent to shreds. Leaving a slight shimmering form in its wake, Xaden sinks his fangs into the soul of Arothak
beneath him as he sucks it into his own form, keeping it close, but not quite close enough to the soul of Sapphire within
him as he rises and gives out a loud cry in victory.
Psycho versus Xaden
Psycho lowers his head, a serene look about him. Black hair waving about through the wind. He raises his head, lips contorting
to that of a grin, one of evil and death. Each arm bends at the elbow, raising slowly to level with his shoulders. Bending
his hands upward and toward his body, each finger curls differently, gripping tightly onto his palm, he forms fists with each
of them. His head begins to raise as his hands reach his to top of his back. With one fluid motion, two daggers of equal length
are pulled. A sound like scissors as they leave their metal scabbards tied to his back. True weapons of destruction, they
are. Each one bearing an engraved design. He pulls them over his head, the obsidian from each creating a mass of black light
and energy. He lifts a foot in front of himself, a pause... His weight shifts onto the foot, and quickly, it drops to the
ground, creating a quiet thud as it falls. A cloud of dust leaves the road as he begins to run, swiftly and quietly, he charges
towards Xaden, the daggers creating a whirring through the air as he approaches rapidly. He brings the daggers swiftly upwards
upon reaching Xaden, slicing towards his torso. He spins once, lowering himself to the ground, and the muscles throughout
his legs tighten as he jumps into the air, flipping once while turning in a half-circle to face Xaden’s back. He brings
his right hand forth at a harrowing speed, slashing at Xaden’s back, followed directly by a left slash from Psycho’s
right to his left. He leaps backward away form his opponent, touching the ground twice with his hands and three times with
his feet
Xaden barely musters a yawn as he takes but a simple step backwards, extending the distance between flesh and blade as
it merely grazes across his breastplate, sending a few small sparks about. He remains motionlessly in place as Psycho comes
upon his flank, thrusting at him yet again with these daggers As Xaden takes a single step forward, letting the blades graze
across his back armor. As Psycho leaps away, Xaden twitches and places a hand to his chin, noticing a small cut had been formed
from the first attack. His eyebrows arch, showing his anger as Xaden screams at such a high pitch that it shatters the glass
windows of Kelay tavern as well as Edwards shop to the south. Birds flee the nearby trees in shear terror of the blood curdling
scream. Xaden places a hand to the ground along with the tip of his Hellforged axe as a dark mist emits from his palm, entering
the fertile soil. You see the earth bubble up with a thick, black liquid that reeks of decay. It grows into a small puddle,
forming an oval shaped trail from Xaden, to surround Psycho as it hisses with far more of a life-like nature than you deem
it should when suddenly, multiple spurts of this disgusting bog shoot inwards towards Psycho. Drops of it spew about the area
as they touch the hardened wood of the tavern. Again the hissing sound is heard as it begins to eat away at the wood with
ease, creating a large hole upon it as the people left in the tavern look out of it to the carnage beyond, knowing that the
establishment could not house them safely. The spurts rise in the air, as if it were part of a delicate fountain, yet you
know it is much more as the liquid reaches its peaks, and turns downwards to bear the same fate upon Psycho's undead form
that it did the harmless wall of the tavern...
Psycho pushes himself upward, throwing his arms around his neck to sheath the daggers. He braces himself as the attack comes,
the liquid spurting up all about him. The acid touches his skin and begins to eat through. He screams in pain as it burns
into to his bones, causing them to sizzle and ash about their outer exterior. Psycho lowers his arms, breathing hard and bearing
his fangs. The acid still on him begins to burn within itself, and once it is all gone he stands weakened and deteriorating.
In one fluid movement, the vampire swings his weapon in a wide arc above his head, cutting through the air and clearly, testing
it for balance. Psycho's pale face twists into a sinister grin, satisfied with his little test. Defiantly, he turns on his
heel and walks to the opposite side of the long dusty road, some far distance from his opponent. The ranger stops at his destination,
hardly visible from so far away, and turns in a full circle, his emerald eyes gleaming chaotically at the prospect of tearing
Xaden limb from limb. Suddenly, from the heavens, long spidery currents of blue electricity lash out and strike at the ground
all about Psycho. In the same moment, the wind brews up in a flurry of golden brown, blowing back the young vampire’s
long, black hair. From the golden dust of the road, a whirlwind forms about Psycho, surrounding his entire body and hiding
him from sight. Within the darkness, Psycho bends low to the ground, his upper body arched downwards. A large spike begins
to protrude from his back. Several moments pass before a lingering, icy laugh rings out into the air and chills you to the
very marrow of your bone, it's echo bouncing off of trees and nearby buildings. Without signal, the golden dust clears. The
powerful beating of two massive charcoal wings can be seen as Psycho's visage comes into view. From his right leg, he unsnaps
a leather strap, and out falls his metal crossbow. Kicking off from the ground, the vampiric warrior soars up into the sky
with the grace and flourish of a dancer, his weapon held out before him as he ascends higher yet. With a small explosion of
light, a crimson aura erupts from his pale skin and throbs violently as he beats his wings continuously to maintain flight.
With a terrible roar, Psycho's wings fold neatly to his back and without their aid, he somehow remains in mid-air. A brief
smile is flashed down at Xaden, from high above, and with this, Psycho begins his descent. With such speed, the ranger dives
downward, that he is no more then a blur of black and red light, only his scimitar visible through the haze. In seconds, the
falling warrior is upon Xaden, slowing down enough so that his face is visible, complete with a maniacal smile. He violently
circles about the air as he grabs two arrows. Upon firing them, they catch a blaze, and begin to glow a crimson aura. Psycho
shifts positions so that his feet are in a direct collision course with Xaden's chest. All the while hateful thoughts of death
and destruction decorate Psycho's twisted mind.
Xaden still remains in place as he was before, not moving a single strp as he extends his arms towards the arrows darting
towards him. Just before striking, Xaden pinches his thumb and fingers together, catching the arrows and immediatly dropping
them harmlessly to the ground before the blaze has a chance to take a firm hold underneath his gauntlets. As Psycho rears
ever closer, Xaden takes one last step to the side and brings his arm forwards, grasping Psycho by an ankle as he spins around,
using Psycho's own force to propell them both. Upon completing a single circle, Xaden releases his opponent, extending enough
of his own strength to force Psycho to the ground as Xaden stands before him. He begins to laugh at his prey, sadisticly amused
with such futility as he shakes his head and drops his axe to the ground beside him. " You are almost entertaining enough
to keep as the fool in my castle. Pity your stupidity has brought you to this. For you " Undead " Do not know your place.
Your kind rises to walk the land only when I deem it so. Now... Face the penalty for defying the Lord of Death. Return to
the precipise from whence you escaped. Should I have need of an idiot, I shall call upon your services. " Xaden speaks amidst
his chuckling as he pierces the tip of his right index finger with the sharpened nail of his left. Letting but a single drop
of dark blood fall to the ground. The earth howls in rage as it splashes down. A great earthquake shakes the land, commanded
by Xaden as the ground splits, showing a faint red glow to eminate from below. A skeletal hand rises from the edifice as the
full body rises and begins to walk towards Psycho. A rotten hand pulls a zombie from the same area as others join it. A veritable
army of undead rise from the pit and surround Psycho, clawing and grasping at him as they grip around his extremidies. Hoisting
him to the air, they begin to walk back without pause to the pit from whence they came, taking their undead kin with them
as Xadens chuckles once again sprout into an all out laughter...
Psycho snarls at the zombies about himself, his crossbow still held tightly within his right hand. He reaches for a bolt,
but realizes they all fell to the ground as he was swung by Xaden. He drops his crossbow on the ground, and lowers himself,
attempting to shove off from the ground. His wings spread in the air, and begins to swipe through the air. He screams out
in pain as he feels the tearing of his right wing. He looks over and sees a maddened hungry zombie biting away at the membranous
sable wing. He pulls the muscles tighter and the wing rips from the zombie’s mouth. So foolish he was to only pay attention
to that one, as there are so many approaching. A zombie on the other side of his body begins to rip about madly on his wing,
and it tears straight down the center, pulling a bone from it’s place. He becomes surrounded by the zombies and they
bite and rip and ravage at his vampiric body. He isn’t seen for the briefest of time, and a white glowing light begins
to seep from all open spots the zombies leave unblocked from the outside. The light grows in intensity, blasting though an
opening it scorches your eyes. The zombies all begin to moan in pain as the light burns at their skin. Psycho’s screams
are heard over their noises and as his screams begin to die out, the zombies begin to deteriorate and eventually fall to the
ground lifeless. Eventually, Psycho is left in a fetal position on the ground, his arms wrapped around his legs. His wings
are torn and his bones are broken...It is over.
Lionel versus Xaden
Death Duel
Lionel narrows his sapphire orbs, taking slower steps than his usual pace. Carefully, he examines his undead opponent, a hint
of malice cast over his pale face. After a thorough look-over, he comes to a pause, no longer moving. Raising one lofty eyebrow,
his eyes glowing with vigor, the young vampiric human slides his left hand down toward the large sheath and blue-and-white-toned
handle of the Blessed Bluerush. With a swift motion, he pulls it from its encasement, his glare not leaving Xaden for even
the shortest of moments. The shimmering blade does glow with what seems to be a great exuberance, soft tones charging up across
its quite sharpened edge. Extending some four-and-one-half feet in length, it is truly a sight to behold. Drawing upon his
inner spirits, the man holds it high, outward from himself with but only his left grip. It shines more and more vehemently,
almost reaching a perfect hue of silver and white. Bringing his right hand to the case dangling loosely from a belt, he opens
it and reveals for the first time his newest weapon. Touching firmly its hilt, carved from the purest of diamonds, and then
tightening his hold on the handle, Lionel brings out a mesmerizing sword – Blade of Eternity. Upon this hilt are three
encrusted gems – a sapphire, an emerald, and a shimmering diamond of the highest order. Swinging forward, he now holds
the newly-reformed Blessed and Blade of Eternity chest length from one-another. Bending at the right knee, and kicking upward
from the ground with his left foot, an alarmingly sudden charge begins. Fast approaching Xaden, Blessed reflects Lionel's
burning passion and a blanket of sharpened ice covers it smoothly, leaving not a spot untouched. O'Connor slides a single
finger upon the sapphire gem Blade of Eternity is equipped with, and a blindingly powerful white light shoots forth, cascading
its white shades upon the undead adversary, covering him from viewability and rendering him most-likely unable to see. The
crystalline ice shards erupt from Blessed and hone in on Xaden with proficiency, as the distance between the two combatants
lessens. Lionel reaches his foe and crosses the blades together, the shine over Xaden only increasing, and the ice shards
narrowing in on his chest. Lionel raises both blades into the air and over Xaden's head, slicing down with a piercing thrust
that would bring both swords through his body at once, in their trajectory arc.
Xaden closes his eyes as the light around him intensifies with every moment. Clawed hands reach to his own chest and pull
out several loose bones from his chest plate. The one who claims himself to be Death incarnate casts out his hands and lets
loose the jagged fragments upon the immediate area as they spread out before him. Now with his arms outstretched, he waits.
Seeming to pay little heed to the oncoming attack he merely stands there as if accepting the fate he would deal unto others
as Lionel now bears down upon him. The pinnacle moment arrives, that one split second that grasps a man through his own personal
eternity when overcome with a sense of battle as Xaden begins to move. He spins in a half circle as the cloak he wears is
cast up into the air, meeting the first of the two blades. This cloak upon contact, wraps itself around the edges of the Blessed
Blue Rush held in Lionels left hand as this counter clockwise motion continues. As if the cloth worn by Xaden held some life
of its own, it presses against the sword, drawing it with the cloth to collide with its ally. The force of the two seems more
astounding than what a simple cloak could accomplish as Lionel comes down to meet the clawed gauntlet of Xaden. He grasps
at Lionels hair, pulling him close as from within the darkness of Xadens hood you hear a sharp scream. Xadens second hand
comes around, now fully completing the spin as he rests it behind Lionels head. With one single jerk, Xaden pulls Lionels
face close and opens his mouth wide, embracing his opponent in what looks to be a kiss of sorts. Xadens body suddenly stiffens
as you can see a faint glow from within his hood, barely showing a feature or two of his face. The scream echoes again, sending
birds from the surrounding forests to flee in terror as the glow intensifies and begins to run along the inside of lionels
mouth, forcing open his jaw to enter. To one who has knowledge of the soul, it is plain to see that Xaden now bellows the
soul of a single unnamed being into the form of Lionel, knowing full well the capacity of men upon their creation to carry
but one soul. This glow is followed by a second shriek and a third as more come from the dark warrior in unison into Lionels
frame. Like a leather wine sack pressed too full, they attempt to fill him quickly, ripping and stretching out within him
to literally burst from within as Xaden keeps his lips locked firm with that of Lionels…
Lionel curses under his breath as Blessed is twisted about, gripping at the handle tightly, his face filled with frustration
as if focusing on a single point. Blessed Bluerush is thrown loose from his hand, and begins to retaliate against the cloak's
strike with a menacingly white glow. Blade of Eternity slams through thin air, and the opposite veers dangerously close to
Lionel's side. The focused spiritual energy gathered within Blessed breaks through the cloak, causing an explosion of ice
and water that destroys the apparel, and as the weapon begins to fall to the ground Lionel quickly grabs it back into his
hold. Eyes wide with pure fear, his hair torn about and strands falling to the ground beside him, the leader lets out his
own feral scream, as he kicks back and away from Xaden. Still the dark spirits find their way into him, and he struggles to
and fro, sensations of his insides ripped apart evident in his petrifyingly shrill shouts. At once within him a figurative
fire rages, as Halycanos angrily thrashes across from within, and he stumbles to the side, slamming the hilt of his newer
of swords straight into Xaden's chest. Rolling with effort away from his opponent, he casts a fiery glare, and a new scream
can be heard bellowing from the young man. His innards growing raw, he shakes profusely, his life drained from him. Halycanos
at long last surges outward and casts these demons away, and Lionel leaps into the air as the darkness is expelled. Physically
torn, welts appearing all across his paleish skin, he groans but does not falter. His own cape flowing with the wind, O'Connor
comes back down, bending at both knees and crouching. Rubbing his right index finger across the diamond imbued upon Blade
of Eternity, a visible small hole from the hilt screeches as slivers of diamond shoot from within, firing rapidly for Xaden's
head with an ultra-sharp edge. Some fifty shards fly out, all of which narrowing in on the undead's cranium, intent on tearing
through and out the other end all over his hidden face. Lunging once again, Lionel swings Blessed true, outward as beams of
light energy form from its tip and join just behind the diamond slabs, slamming dead-ahead for Xaden's stomach. These beams
burn flesh with their holy order, and the vampiric sets out to join his two-fold attack, holding Blade ahead perfectly, Blessed
crossed ahead of his chest for defense. With a gallant charge he moves to impale Xaden's chest behind his multiplied onslaught,
feet kicking the ground below them fiercely as he zooms into his opponent.
Xaden stumbles back a few steps as the butt of Lionels hilt hits him in the chest. Without any time to retaliate in defense,
the diamond shards rain upon his body, ripping and tearing cloth, metal, and flesh. Xadens body jerks time after time as the
shards penetrate him and yet he does not fall, he merely bends over as you can plainly see a thick, dark liquid pouring like
honey from his wounds to collect upon the ground. The dirt seems to pop and sizzle at the touch of this mass as it collects
about him. Xaden reaches down and places a single finger into it, bringing it to his mouth as he licks it once, his mouth
letting out a slight groan. Not one accustomed to pain, but one similar to that of pleasure… Almost rapture. When the
groan has left his throat, it is replaced by a new, more dark sounding tone as faint chuckling can be heard through several
sputters. As the beams of holy light now come to pass, you look to see the bone shards that Xaden had cast beginning to move.
Without warning, they shoot forth before Xaden, some in the way of each beam as the two collide. Like light shone from mirror
to mirror they dance about from bone fragment to bone fragment, finally hitting the last one, tilted to where it reflects
these collective beams back upon the blade that had cast them, connecting with the emerald as it surrounds it, shrinking about
the gem as it concentrates upon blocking it. The bone fragments still hold their place as Xaden reaches to grasp a bowl, collecting
a full sized amount of his own putrid blood. As Lionel comes forward, Xaden throws the bowl at Lionel, casting blood about
as it looks to singe the body of Lionel as it has the very skin of Hollow…
Lionel is pushed back toward the ground as his beams of light strike Blade of Eternity true, tearing into the emerald of the
hilt and cracking its hardened shell. He thrusts into the dirt with Blessed, to avoid falling on his back from the powers
of his own abilities. A devastated glance from his welting face ensues, and he coughs up some of his own crimson nectar as
he shakes vehemently, back and forth. Cursing once more in a low tone, Lionel's sapphire orbs narrow with anticipation as
the dark liquid of Xaden's own lifeblood comes at him. Pushing his left hand down on the handle of his lowered sword, the
young man leaps into the air vigorously, but this pool of pain slams into his stomach with significant tear through his breastplate.
At once a steaming of smoke and skin rises from his abdomen, and a terrible cry of pain is let out for all to hear. Falling
before he can rise up with his usual somersault-like blow, O'Connor hits the ground as his stomach's skin and flesh literally
dissolves. Grasping with his free hand against it, its tear upon him finally ceasing, Lionel lets out a roar and stands tall
once again. Spitting onto the ground where bits of his skin and muscle are flung about, he touches the tip of Blade of Eternity,
and his left index finger draws blood immediately. Sinful smirk at the prowess of the sword, with his bleeding hand he pulls
Blessed from the ground, and again with his two swords united, madly dashes for the undead. Blessed rages with white beams
yet again, not stopped from the previous ill-fated attempt, and these energy pillars pave through the air toward Xaden's neck.
Slicing into the air, Blade of Eternity's partially-shattered emerald still does the trick. The ground surrounding Xaden is
hoisted upward, earth-based elementality engulfing him with a landslide of sorts. Risen ground collides, tumbling toward Xaden's
head, and a fast dual slash ensues amidst the chaos, through the dirt. Tips of both swords pointed at the enemy's chest, he
impales, hoping the marks tear through the flesh.
Xaden is finally forced to make significant movement as his body darts about, almost like the drunken stupor of a man in
the throughs of music. Beam after beam tears past him to break upon the surrounding environment, cutting down any solid object
in their path. The mass of earth however swallows the undead being as it crashes upon itself once more to rest. As Lionels
blades dig deep into the ground, you see two arms rise up, hands grasp Lionel at the wound in his stomach. The pains of one
seem to augment the pains of the other as Xadens blood continues to tear at Lionel when suddenly, Xadens hands clench. As
the two share in their own sense of pain, it seems to connect them. At that very moment, Lionels mind is flooded with images.
Horrid visages from eyes that are not his own. In one, two hands, obviously feminine and holding a rope perhaps reach between
two legs to wrap around the throat of a newborn child. This choking continues until the child goes limp. In another, a young
man clad in a fine garb is thrown atop a mound of garbage as he screams inaudibly. His mouth opens as an odd stink seems to
hit Lionels nose. The shaft of a gnarled staff waves back and forth as the young mans mouth seems to fill with manure. These
among many other disgusting feats lash out at Lionel, bringing visions of unspeakable horrors and yet in each, one thing is
apparent. No demon, no entity seems to be in any of them. Only the bodies and viewpoints of men, mortal and quite the norm
of any realm can be seen. As each revolting act bombards him, Xaden grins from his shallow grave. Showing him the true nature
of man. Every warmongering action, every greedy attempt at anothers expense seems to overwhelm fond memory and hope as you
begin to hear a muffled chuckle from beneath the ground…
Lionel falls back, all things he is so avidly against tainting his mind, as his stomach is damaged all the more profoundly.
Biting his lip and drawing blood from it, the young man tries desperately to push himself from the images, as is clearly shown
by the growing strain and frustration upon his wounded face. The terrible aromas and annihilative visions push him further
and further from reality, and he falls to the ground, but holds onto his swords with all of his remaining force. Xaden's blood
spewed across him, his flesh burns and tightens, contorts. Scream after scream is let out, from the horrible things cast within
him, but he does not let go of his swords. “This is not real!” Declares the young man from his nearly-fallen consciousness,
as he pulls away the blades at last from the risen ground, and jolts away from the makeshift grave. The ground crumbles at
last, revealing Xaden's stance, as it bashes into the earth from whence it rose. The images, Lionel searches his heart to
replace, his eyes darting rapidly as he ends his twitching and tries hard not to think of the pain in his stomach, more oozing
and steaming from his abdomen. His wounded heart gives him what he needs, and Lionel focuses on the truth as a smirk plays
upon his lips – the truth, that Xaden had essentially killed that child, though the burning truth that he himself is
capable of such actions does not leave him and he swings both swords with might into the earth, his face filled with remorse,
his body with the aches and pains of his battle. Turning away, he glances onward into nothingness, awaiting the judges' decision.
Valaria rises from her spot and faces the duelers after offering all the judges a warm smile. "Upon tallying the votes,
it is determined that the winner is Lionel."
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