Tenmatsu Tenimi Vs. Crusoe Vein

[Drago Tenmatsu]

The time of day is dusk, right before the sun had vanished from the night sky. The sky was a clear starless night, with the full moon the only thing lighting up the night sky. The wind was blowing against the rotation.

Drago Tenmatsu, standing 9ft even He is a sight to behold, his height is due to the dragon in his blood. His green hair is slicked back like a rich man's, but with black streaks all through it. Now his eyes are out of the ordinary, they are jade green with a yellow rim. His attire is a white trench coat with sleeves for his arms, battered and torn. the shoulders on the coat have spikes on them, the spikes are made of steel. The pants he wear are cargo camouflage. His shoes, all they are is black leather combat boots. and protruding from his back are wings. the wing span when completly open is 20 feet from wing tip to wing tip. at this point he can only carry up to 50 pds. In his right hand he holds tight a snake sword style scythe. It is a mix between a snake sword and a scythe.

Now where he stands is nothing more then an average field by a mountain side. The only catch one of the mountains is a volcano that is close to erupting. And at this time and place, who knows when it will blow.

The field is 100 yards in every direction no matter where you stand. The highest mountain is 1500 above ground level.

The field is full of fallen corpses from battles in the past, bodies hewn in half, headless, legless, you name it, it happened to at least one of the bodies. And a good thing is, each body holds something different, some have weapons ranging from short swords to maces and staffs then from potions to elixers.

Tenmatsu is quietly sitting in the middle awaiting his opponent.

"Come and get me, Crusoe Vein."

[Raven, Setontalf]

Death is a very unique smell. It penetrates deep into one’s nostrils, sneaks in between one’s lips, resting heavily on the tongue. Disgusting and unsettling at the very core, it is a smell that never fully leaves you. It was this smell that cut deep into Crusoe’s heart as he let open the door in the stone hall. Once again he was standing in the Citadel, prepared to meet death or triumph, even if both were brief. With a deep breath, letting in the rancid scent of flesh past it’s prime, the mage stepped across the threshold.

It was a scene that would disgust even seasoned veterans, for it seemed to be a battlefield that had no conclusion. Lives were lost, and the death toll raked high, but none stood to claim the sacrifice justified. Death held the only victory and his trophy, this field. Turning aghast from the sight for a moment, the young Crusoe coughed heavily against the prevailing scent. It would be a difficult thing to battle both an opponent, and his rising stomach, but the reward was well worth the cost.

Not believing hesitation or deliberation would change anything, Crusoe immediately dived into the deep concentration that was a familiar cradle to his mind. Colors and patterns burst outwards, his vision expanding as his eyes closed. This battle was begun on invitation, somehow his opponent knowing of him and requesting the confrontation. It was thus that Crusoe would give the man what he wished for, a battle to remember. Pulling and twisting the threads he saw before him, the boy worked an intricate weave and set it into motion. Fire, beneath the ground, and energy that lay dorment and dying in the already dead gave birth to his attack.

Being birthed seemingly from the air itself, an arrow that was but one in a quiver shot towards his opponent’s form. Made from fire, it streaked across the sky, small embers raining on the myriad corpses it crossed. Many more of its kind, woven together but held at bay, lay on the edges of Crusoe’s vision as he kept his eyes closed, watching the patterns unfold.

[Drago Tenmatsu]

Drago Tenmatsu is quietly sitting in the middle of the field, legs crossed indian style when He sees some kind of fire arrow come towards him. "So you are finally here Crusoe" Drago Tenmatsu says as the arrow approaches.

So Tenmatsu decides to do the one thing his opponent wont probably expect.

Just as the arrow gets right in front of Drago Tenmatsu he falls backwards and decides to play dead. But as he goes down hot embers falling from the arrow land on his skin which makes him wince in pain. He quickly grabs the spot where they landed and tryed to massage the pain away real quick.

The arrow goes past and lands about 15 yards behind him. So now that the light is gone, he crawls on his stomach around all the dead bodies, a couple heads, a hewn in half legless waist; surprisingly this does not faze him. Only cause he is used to the scenery. He is death after all.

Every so many yards or feet, he stops and makes sure his opponent cannot see him. His scythe on his back, and the bad thing is the sound of the links in the scythe are clicking and clanking together and probably be the reason his opponent will find him.