Hysteria vs Tobias Stalt

[Silence Sei]

You have until 12:01 March 10th. Good luck!

[Tobias Stalt]

"Fuck this nonsense!" Tobias bristled as the overturned table sailed past him, and he crossed his arms. In the extravagant hall of some spire in Ettermire, the Soldier rendered a court martial to an Elf. Indignity did not do the man's response justice. "They accuse me of consorting with enemies of the state, and then send a fucking human to arrest me?" Tobias let out an impatient breath at the blatantly racist remark, but he held his cool. The Elven man turned to him, genuinely distraught. "Have I fallen so far?"

Tobias snorted. "If you'd just let me slam the irons on you, I'll wager you'd save yourself on the dramatic exit." The elongated face of the Dark Elf set with brimming hatred on the young human. "Easy now, long-ears. I do have the authority to kill you if you get too obstinate."

The creature spat at Tobias' feet, but it offered no verbal response. Giving others satisfaction was not in their nature. The loud clang of metal shifted into a preternatural hiss, alchemical runes fusing the cuffs to the Elf's hands. Tobias watched his constituent of troops match the man away.

"I'm to find damning evidence in this place?" He asked the world, as if his lack of enthusiasm would make the task any easier. "I'm may as well pick up a fork and say he was using it to eat dinner with the sodding Ixian Commander while plotting to murder an Elven noble..." The soldier muttered as he set about his search, moving papers and seeking anything noteworthy.

This was shaping up to be a long night.

[Hysteria]

“Little Red Hand.”

Talen's voice was soft, passive even. His body had appeared a moment ago in the air behind Tobias and the soldier. He floated down towards the ground with a serial grace, his feet touching the ground softly as his dark cloak billowed around him. As his hood lifted two pale blue eyes locked onto Tobias. Talen was taller than him by a few inches, a bit leaner too. It wasn't easy to tell the second fact with the youth's choice of clothing.

“What is this little Red Hand doing I wonder?” Talen's voice hung in the air a moment, as did his decision not to use the word Crimson.

The soldier with Tobias moved with practiced speed. His sword was drawn in an instant and he made to lung at Talen. He would have died in another second if the soldier had not stopped dead in his tracks. Tobias's hand slowly moved back to his side from in front of luckiest soldier in Ettermire. Talen let a small smile slide onto his face at the easy command Tobias had over the men.

“Perhaps I am interrupting something?” The youth's hand lifted in feigned ignorance.

[Tobias Stalt]

A gentle, yet stern amber gaze locked with frosty blue orbs as Tobias regarded the shadowy fiend. "At ease, soldier," he patted the young man on the soldier, and gestured with the same hand for him to fall back. "This is the jurisdiction of Alerar's finest, my friend," the soldier managed to maintain the decorum befitting his rank, even as venom threatened to seep into his words. He had seen shadow magic at Jak's side in Salvar, so long ago now, but this man made it look simple. Dark tidings had fallen on Tobias and his men. "There are things at work here that could become... irreconcilable, should you intervene."

Tobias somehow knew that this man would not be deterred by words, but the duty fell on his shoulders to be sure his men heard the words he chose. Not the story as Talen would twist it. "Corrick. Swein. Fall back to the Axios. Report that the suspect has been taken into custody, " he said as he glanced sidelong at the young man, who seemed itching to get himself killed, "but leave this unexpected meeting out of your report."

"Sir?" The confused reply echoed from both men, but Tobias waved them away.

"An order," Tobias reminded them, "not an invitation to question. I will sort this out myself." When it came to shadow soaked assailants, the Captain knew he was outmatched. In close quarters, he would need to find an advantage to survive (let alone emerge victorious.) As his small constituent of troops left him alone with a monster, Tobias offered his warmest smile to Talen of the Shadows, and he dipped his head with respect. "It seems your friends are more resourceful than I accounted for. I had not expected an assassin so early in my endeavors."

Tobias bared his steel with a chilling screech. "I'm flattered." Tension filtered through the extravagant hall as chemical luminescence surged all around and abolished the darkness. The room came to life around them at some preconceived command, and Tobias blinked. "Delayed response from the utilities. It suits, though."

Gilded tapestries depicting the triumph of science over magic, grandiose and lifeless machinery and finely crafted furniture littered the expansive room. Carpets that cushioned each step lay beneath their feet, and Tobias particularly enjoyed the in home bar with its own tap. A drink might be in his future, after all. "Let's get to business, shall we?"

[Hysteria]

“Assassin? I am nothing of the sort Little Red.” Goaded Talen, “Like you I am a cog in a machine, one much bigger than we two. I have to confess I am a little confused as to why you send your men away. Shouldn't you be calling for help? Perhaps crawling back to that Assassin Lye you work for? Perhaps you'd care to take this opportunity to escape? I'll gladly give you a few minutes head start.”

Talen smiled, the action in most other circumstances would appear warm and friendly, but face to face with Tobias it oozed condescension. Tobias didn't move, and Talen had not expected him to. The youth lifted his hands up and shrugged in feigned defeat. On cue the youth's form exploded outwards. His cloak shredded as it lashed outwards from his form, the dark scraps twisted through the air around the boy tearing into ever finer pieces. Talen ended up standing in the middle of a twisting haze of black as his cloak, also composed of the same shadow energy he controlled, transitioned back into raw shadow magic.

With his cloak the youth was wearing a black vest. His pale, lean arms were unadorned, save for the tattoo on his left forearm of the mark of Hromagh, Thayne of Strength. Much like his now de-materialised cloak, the youth's dark hair hung down to just above his eyes. The black wind encircling the youth whipped it up, turning most of it into a shaggy mess. Talen lifted his hands towards Tobias and the dark wind whipped around the youth towards the soldier. Slightly more condensed than normal it had about as much force as a strong gust of wind and a darkness like that of a weak mist, but it was not Talen's actual attack. The youth lifted his arms in front of him and assume a pose like that of a boxer. His fists started to lash out in front of him. Shadow boxing it was called in boxing circles, but Talen's was a bit different. As his fists lashed out they disappeared, appearing instead within reach of Tobias. The wind was a diversion as the rain of blows was his actual attack.

[Tobias Stalt]

Tobias snorted at the proclamation of mercy, and offered an obscene gesture in response. "Abyss take your piking goodwill," Tobi sneered. "I may as well piss into the wind and soak myself." It was apparent Talen knew enough about the Hand that Tobias could not refute it, but he was not inclined to reveal more to the Shade than necessary. The soldier knew that knowledge was worth more than his own life. "The melodrama of allegiances is beneath you," Tobias admonished the man, "kill me or don't, but don't waste words."

His own hubris surprised him. Words that Tobias generally eschewed erupted from him, and he silently cursed his foul streak of luck. Topaz beneath the eerie lights, Tobias' eyes glimmered with determination as he slowly drew his sword.

Where Talen stood tall, Tobias seemed plain. Unimpressive stature wreathed in the muted blacks of Alerar's infantrymen, the young man faced the darkness boldly.

Fog fell around them like the heaving of a dog on carpet. Whirling winds consumed both of them, and Tobias could only venture that this parlor trick was among those in his adversary's arsenal. Bringing his blade up and sliding his feet into a comfortable stance, the brave boy stood fast. "Never take your eyes off your opponent," he reminded himself softly, gaze fixed on Talen despite the gale growing around him.

The first punch came too suddenly. It had not registered with Tobias that the other man's hands had dissipated until a fist took him in the jaw. He faltered and his feet stumbled backward, and Tobias raised his weapon to ward off further punishment. Instinctively his eyes had closed, and the other fist pummels his nose with a powerful cross. Blood burst forth from Tobias' left nostril, and he saw the world around him spin.

"Your kind doesn't fight fair," he observed within seconds, spitting out a wad of blood that had welled up in his cheek at the initial impact. Wary of the hands now, Tobias hacked haphazardly at the closest in hopes of driving it back before it could strike a second time. "That suits me fine," the captain drawled, and Tobias brought his blade back into a guard.

[Hysteria]

“Psht...” Talen near spat the sound as he brought his hands back up in a guarding position in front of him, his transported limbs back attached to his arms, “Really? You Pink Glove girls are not that tough after all.”

The dark wind whipping past Talen towards Tobias dropped to a breeze before disappearing completely. The dark youth seemed to consider the situation for a moment as he gazed at the bloodied man. It might have been the last words, or perhaps a tendency to enjoy a challenge that directed Talen's next action. He brought his right hand to his hip and grabbed at an invisible handle. As he ripped his hand back in front of himself a sword blinked into existence.

“You're move.”

Talen gripped the sword in front of him with both hands. It was a unique make, the width of the blade was four inches of Damascus, with a sudden jut of the blade at the top to form a sort of spike. The edge blade from Talen's point of view was positioned as if it as cut him in half. From either side his eyes peered towards his opponent, arrogantly waiting for the challenge.

[Tobias Stalt]

Blood smeared his caustic smile as Tobias dragged a stained sleeve across his face. The shaded interloper withdrew his extensive reach, and the gale of darkness dispersed. Otherworldly wind died away around the two men and left them in relative peace, the hum of electricity flowing through the walls playing as their background music. An insult quipped from Talen, but died on the ears of Tobias.

The boyish innocence of a clean shaven face was marred by crimson. Tobias watched the blade in the Shadowmage's grasp substantial from nothing, but his expression did not change. Several paces forward he moved, slowly bringing his blade to bear. Resting at an angle, the blade tip extended toward Talen. Tobias held the blade firmly, left over right hand on the hilt. He allowed himself a few measured breaths, and the youth silently echoed his training.

Before the boy was an opponent with great power. The eerie edge of the weapon bisected the dark messenger's face, but Tobias did not defer to his opponent's ominous selection of weaponry. "Dance, Shadow," he murmured in a solemn tone, and the Knight of Tears belted out with his blade.

Rising from below, the steel surged toward Talen. Tobias kept the blade parallel to the floor, held so that the blade pointed to his right. Light flickered off of the mirror edge of the sword, reflected from panels that lined the room.

~

"You think he's alright?" Vladimir was the senior officer serving under Tobias; the man was also lucky enough to have survived drawing his sword on the shadow walker. His expression was riddled with concern, lines creasing his brow as they stepped back aboard the "Axios."

"No, I don't think he's alright," retorted Reginald, the spirited youth who had accompanied the two. It had been his first rodeo, so to speak. Seeing a man appear from nothingness had been more than a little unnerving. Shivers shot through his spine as he recalled the cold eyes of a killer, and he glanced back at Vladmir. "Why in all the hells would he omit something like this from his report?"

Vladmir stared blankly at the deck. The question was clearly one he had wished to avoid. "He doesn't expect to survive," the elder soldier admitted, "and he wants to ensure we don't get killed for knowing too much. He was saving our lives, Reg."

"W-what!?" Reginald lifted the gearlock rifle from his back, and he made to run back toward the Spire's inner sanctum. A firm gaze on his shoulder held him back.

"If he isn't going to survive, neither are we," Vladmir gazed into Reginald's sad eyes, and his heart broke at the futility he found there. "Let's get back," the senior officer hurriedly changed the subject. "The information we have is more than incriminating enough."

From the "Axios," a mechanical growl heralded the start of the engines.

[Hysteria]

Talen's dark sword lifted into the air before it came crashing down on Tobias's. Things were moving in slow motion for the shadowy youth. His mind was focused, the muscles on his arms rippling beneath his pale skin with the powerful downwards slash. The blades sung with the bitter sound of war as both crashed into the carpet. Talen twisted his gaze from the clashed sword to Tobias. Using his right hand to keep his sword against the ground the youth's left lifted from the hilt to just in front of his chest. Talen pushed his body forwards, focused on soldier as he tried to stop him from withdrawing his blade.

A crackling of energy entered the air, Talen's left hand pulsated with energy. Poised as it was to strike, the slightest touch would unleash a torrent of energy capable of rending a normal person asunder. The hand shot forwards towards Tobias's face, but despite himself Talen faltered. He changed direction, instead reaching for the soldier's arm.

Talen's eyes dropped from the man's face to rest on his new target. He wouldn't admit it to himself but there was no evil he could feel in the man he had previously decided to kill. There was loyalty, misguided as it might have been. Despite himself, despite his past, Talen could not strike down someone without good reason. He was truly not an assassin, he was just a man. One with powers far beyond that of a normal person, but a man non-the-less.

As the youth's hand made to disable his opponent the sounds of people returning sounded. The youth focused on destroying Tobias's arm, after that he knew he would need to make an escape.

[Tobias Stalt]

It was over before he could scream.

The blade dropped from his limp hand as the arm went slack, the sickening crack and splitting of bone echoing like a funeral dirge. Tobias was numbed by shock, but his gaze moved toward his ruined arm with no less morbid fascination. Such power was beyond a normal man. To a soldier like Tobias, even the suffering that came next would be as nothing to the experience of witnessing such inhuman power.

Even as he stared in disbelief, Tobias rasped through his shaking throat. "I won't let you leave" he sputtered in futility, and his body trembled with effort. "Not while I still live." Bone had erupted through flesh, and when he attempted to move the broken arm, blood spilled in copious amounts from newly opened orifices. Small swords of bone thrust from within his body sent mind numbing pain throughout his body, but Tobias refused to scream out. His brain struggled with the overwhelming sensation, and it was all he could do to remain standing.

In spite of his condition, the Knight of Tears defied Talen. Once magnificent carpet had become worthless in seconds of splatter, and Tobias' sword swam in the lifeblood of its master. Stretching out his hand toward the Ixian, Tobias staggered toward the man who had bested him, but the Soldier refused to fall. His fingers brushed along a breeze, the distance between them so little, and yet his enemy seemed so far away.

All the world was unfair. "I will defy the villainy of your Order until I breathe my last," Tobias sputtered, blood spilled from his mouth as he managed to form words. "So kill me now, or regret it later." He sank to a single knee, unable to continue standing upright. His useless, mangled arm hung at his side, and his other hand swept up to cradle it. The soldier could not bear to look upward and face his shame, but he forced his head upright.

Tears spilled from both his eyes as he kept them tightly shut. Having been defeated so quickly and with such ease, he choked back his tears and waited for the death he had earned. Failure had never been an option, and when he met the bitch, she hit him hard. Wounds littered his body, but valiant effort radiated from his ever humble form. "Do it," he hissed, fighting back the urge to break down. "Finish what you started!"

The low growl of an airship slipping away in the distance breathed a finality into the room, and Tobias' lips curled in a grim smile. This was how his story ended.