Spooky shit (a speed post battle)

[The Sin Eater]

OOC:
Closed to Elthas Belthasar.
Just for the fun of it, we will be trying to speed post this battle, so stay tuned!


“It's your first time, isn't it?” the young monk asked.

It was indeed Tom's first visit to the Citadel. He had heard many stories about the order of Ai'Brone and there skills to create the most fantastical battle areas. Thomas couldn't spend one night at any of Underwood's pubs without being forced to listen to someone recounting some epic battle he or she had won against an acclaimed warrior or two. Though most of the stories where probably incredible exaggerated or just plain bullshit, it sure had attracted Thomas's attention. A fight to death without risking death, how cool is that? It would be a perfect chance to experiment with and hopefully improve his suicidal fighting style.

As such, the former inquisitor had followed the South Road through the Comb Mountains until he had came at the valley of the Niema river delta, home of the grand city of Radasanth. Though he quite liked the capitol, Thomas hadn't wasted any more time and had gone straight to the Citadel. So there he was, talking to an Ai'Brone monk who would guide him on his first battle.

“Yeah, it is,” he replied, “how does this whole real-but-not-real-battle stuff work?”

The young monk smiled and patiently explained how he could freely choose or design a battleground, that any injuries will be taken care off afterward and that a proper contestant would arrive shortly after he would enter the fighting zone.
For a moment, Thomas thought about a suitable battlefield, something that would hopefully give him an advantage over his unknown opponent.

A big grin appeared on his face, as he started to describe one of the most horrendous places he had ever been in:
“Have you ever been in one of Fallien's infamous glass mines? For your sake, I hope not, they are worse then the first three circles of hell. Well, maybe not the third but you get my point. Create me such a mine, but with no exits. At the center there should be a giant cave, brightened by a large pile of sugar-glass. I think it's called Valayoyala or something; colorful glass which reflects the light in the color it consists of, which can be any shade. Oh wait, I remember how it's called: Valaiyalman. Expensive stuff. Anyway, the mine. The central cave should be in the form of a spire with many different elevations and connected to countless other, smaller caves. Some of the caves are connected with rail tracks in order to easily transport to glass. One of the larger passage ways has multiple tracks leading to a melting room with several large ovens where the glass is being processed for further transport. The other mining shafts are usually smaller, some of them too small to stand in. Most of the shifts and caves are lightened by torches and the reflecting glass. Some of the older areas aren't lit at all and are pitch black.”

The young monk just stared at Thomas, and was probably wondering why he would want to fight in such a claustrophobic place.

“Oh and one other thing, can you also create – or however you do this stuff – living beings in the mine?”

When the guy nodded, Tom continued: “Great. Fill the caves and shafts with working Dwarf miners. Don't make then sentient though, just brainless slaves who won't mind our presence or fight back when they happen to be hit in the crossfire. For an extra spookiness factor, make them constantly hum or sing in a strange language. That's it I suppose... you can add any details you wish, especially if it makes it more spooky. Do you think you can handle it?”

A little startled by the request but polite as always, the monk did his thing. Some minutes later, Thomas found himself in a dark mining shaft. After his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he started to explore the passage way and picked up a torch to help him find his way to a larger cave.

“Whoever is out there, I'm ready!”

[Elthas_Belthasar]

Joining the Syndicate seemed an obvious choice. After the events which lead him to acquire the body of a certain old man and return it to a Syndicate safe house, Elthas had served them ever since. He had honoured the old alliances between Men and Elves, and for such, was rewarded with undying loyalty from The Syndicate. The old man in question had passed to the next life, but had given Elthas Final Orders, a common practice performed by Syndicate ranking officers. With the Final Orders, Elthas was prepared for a life of servitude to the Syndicate. Once at the Syndicate safe-house, Elthas was prepared for the various jobs that he was given. Choosing the profession of a Bounty Hunter, Elthas worked to train his skills.

He knew he would face targets of various skill level in his career, and so, to prepare he was sent to the Citadel. Elthas was looking over the records of various open battles in open Citadel chambers when he realized he was no longer alone. The Elf had sharp senses and was curious as to how the monk was able to sneak up on his person without him noticing it. He guessed it was some secret teachings of the Order. Turning to face the monk, Elthas acknowledged the fellow with a polite inclination of the head. After that, he walked closer to the monk opting to keep potential clientele in a safe distance. This would allow either escape or dispatching at a moment's notice. Elthas stared at the monk with observant eyes, his demeanor calm and relaxed.

"I was observing the open battles for a moment. I apologize for not responding sooner." Elthas said, though he was being polite, there was a clear darkness in the Elf's heart.

"No need for apologies sir." The monk responded. "Do you find an arena that strikes you as interesting?" The monk asked.

"Well now that you mention it, yes I do. I am particularly interested in..."

***

Elf. The very word oft was met with a feeling of mystery and superstition. Elthas was a member of the Elven race, though young, had become formidable. His training had lead him to join the Syndicate as one of it's loyal supporters. Elthas was in the Citadel to become a more powerful Agent of the Syndicate. Those were his motivations however. Elthas approached the Chamber that the monks set aside for his new opponent. Elthas was a bounty hunter, though there was currently no bounty on his opponent, the Elf was prepared to show the man a heck of a time. Elthas was briefed on the battle arena and what it would detail in accordance to his experiences in life.

Elthas had never left the Nation of Corone before. But he was well traveled within it's boarders. Recognizing the stout Dwarven folk of Comb Mountains, Elthas grinned. They were a curious lot and at one point in the history of the peoples hated the Elven folk of old. However, Elthas knew that the Demon's War had united the people of Althanas against one common enemy. Elthas observed that the Dwarves were singing and decided that they were probably there for no other reason than to serve as aesthetic puppets. Hearing the merry tune of the Dwarves whilst they worked placed Elthas in an extremely uncomfortable state of mind. The music was off-beat and resonated the drunken states that the Dwarves usually found themselves in. Though they were a stout lot, it was well known that Dwarven folk loved their mead and ale.

Ignoring the Dwarves for now, Elthas drew both of his combat knives and moved further in the mine network as he searched for his opponent...

[The Sin Eater]

Thomas began to regret his choice to relive his rather dreadful experience in the Fallien glass mine. Because it was so long ago, he did not think it would effect it but he was wrong.
He was still an Inquisitor when he was ordered to go the glass mine to hunt down some alleged ghost who was haunting the mine. The miners where refusing to work until the problem was solved, causing great financial damage. He hadn't cared much about the phantasm, but the days he had to spend in order to find and destroy it had been a real mind-fuck.

The humming Dwarves had turned out to be quite spooky as well. Their irregular chanted echoed through the network of caves, sometimes it was just one voice until suddenly what almost seemed to be a Dwarven choir joined the lone singer.

As he went down one shaft and into another, he also regretted that he hadn't asked for a map as he had no clue where he is heading, for all he knew he was walking in circles. He didn't even know if his opponent had already entered the arena. But most of all, he wanted to find the main cave so he could use it as an orientation point.

He turned around a corner. “Holy crap!” he shouted, as he suddenly bumped into something. Scared shitless, he almost plunged his knife into the Dwarf he had ran into. With a sigh he passed the expressionless worker, who acted like nothing happened.
The singing had stopped and all Thomas could hear was his still echoing shout. He dearly hoped that his opponent couldn't hear it, but with the dwarven silent the network of caves seemed to greatly amplify each and every sound.

Tom had reached a crossroad and had to decide which way he would go. The small mining shaft on his left seemed to go deeper down into the mine, while the bigger passage way on his right slightly ascended. When he was about to take the latter path, he thought he had seen something move in the corner of eyes. He quickly hid his torch behind a large rock while he stood silent with his back to the opposing wall. He wished that his eyes would hurry adjusting to the darkness of the mining shaft so he could check whether or not he had really seen someone who wasn't a zombie dwarf.

[Elthas_Belthasar]

Elthas's senses were acute for that of a young Elf. He was able to see effectively in the dark once he accessed Infra-Vision.

The nocturnal world came alive as various faces of glowing energy swelled and pulsed off the world. Colour was visible in the dark to the trained eye, Elthas knew that to be the case. In infra-vision, the Elf could see various degrees of the world in a whole new light. Heat signatures seemed to flow out of warm bodies like spikes of primal force. Elthas prepared for what was coming. All of the heat signatures surrounding the Elf were false, constructs of the monk's magic. Elthas ignored the false Dwarves and a part of him pitied the mindless slaves. He knew that they were not real, but despite that fact, he felt sorry for them. A slave was no good to anybody, they were less than garbage and deserved nothing but a quick and painless death. Elthas hated the mind that constructed such a nightmare scene for his first battle in the Citadel.

He would use that powerful hatred effectively against his opponent. As he walked, he concentrated enough to mentally shut out the music in the cavernous wasteland. If this were his creation, the Dwarves would be wild and free. But Elthas knew that it wasn't, the arena represented the mind of a depraved man. Or woman, or whatever. There were many genders in Althanas, and Elthas had seen but a few. As Elthas walked, he focused his Elven eyes to pick out a signature that would likely be living. That signature could possibly be the one that belonged to his would-be opponent. When he cornered a passageway and turned, his eyes suddenly caught that which he sought. His foe!

Energy swelled on the body of the man who would be his first victim in The CItadel. Long had the Syndicate agent trained for this very moment. He was ready. Wielding both of his masterwork daggers, the Elf did not hesitate when he finally spotted his opponent. Using his reflexes and speed, the Elf silently ran towards his foe. His muscles clenched tightly as he prepared for the attack. Elthas narrowed his beautiful eyes as he focused on the signature of his foe. His body immediately moved into the combat style he knew. It was a mixture of Syndicate training and his elven military training which would make the stance look exotic to a degree.

He held his blades to the side of his body. Tips pointing down, one grip for a hand. Both arms were placed at a downward 45-degree angle. He almost appeared as a bird that might take off for flight. Elthas waited until his body had reached a physical point where he was shy about seven paces thus from his opponent. Elthas' eyes continued to stare at the boy before him. They never left his person. Elthas was going for a silent, professional kill with the hope of capturing his foe alive. He was going to turn the opponent in back to the monks so he could fight another day. Such was the code of a Bounty Hunter.

There was no battle-cry. No sound in those skilled steps. Instead, there was quiet thought into action. The speedy Elf prepared to strike like a bird of prey snatching a rodent from a corn-field. First came the initiating maneuver, as a dual-wielder Elthas could use both arms as his weapons, Elthas lashed out with his right arm in a powerful, yet, elegant slashing technique. About midway of the movement, Elthas slashed in a circular movement upward, using his wrist to full effect. His left hand was prepared in a counter-strike position should his opponent be craftier than his exterior let on. A wicked smile touched the corners of his lips. Elthas's actions would speak volumes that day.

[The Sin Eater]

Thomas focused on the location he thought he had heard the some coming from, widening his eyes to let as much light enter as possible. Though he was sure he had heard something, he couldn't differentiate any possible movement from the shades cast by the torch and the few reflecting glass spikes sticking out of the walls.
For a moment he wondered why exactly he had chose this battlefield and what he was fighting. Had he truly come here to train his skills, or did he have a deeper motive, carefully hidden by his subconscious? Was he fighting a foe of flesh and blood or one of his own demons? Had he come to win this fight to the death or to kill himself as a punished for his futile attempts to do good?

He stopped ruminating when he saw something move. He hadn't see an actual movement but for a short but significant moment a tiny torch on the far end of the tunnel was darkened; an unknown object must have moved in front of it. Not taking any risks, he readied himself for a possible clash. If he hadn't turned crazy and started seeing things but had actually spotted his enemy, then he - or she - was damn hard to see and hear.
Adrenaline pumped through his body and he could feel his hands slightly trembling by the promise of a violent battle. As barbaric as it sounded, the former priest felt perfectly comfortable around bloodshed. Taken his enemy's blood was his way of life and the more blood he lost the more powerful and stronger he became; the result of an unwanted soul link to his much hated demon lord who reveled in his sins and bloodletting.

A lot sooner then he had anticipated a blade suddenly emerged from the darkness; the fight had only just began and Tom was at least three steps behind already. In a reflex he tried to evade the attack by ducking, but falling was a more appropriate example. As he let himself drop he could feel a rush of air pass his face followed by a searing pain in his right ear. His mysterious opponent had struck first blood and cut of a small piece of his ear. Now on his knees, Thomas did the only thing he could think of and leaped forward - head first - into the assumed location of his mysterious enemy. He hoped to take his opponent by surprise and crash the both of them into a wall or on the floor. It was the only way he knew how to fight: dirty and very, very close to his foe.

[Elthas_Belthasar]

Elthas had caught something in the darkness. There was a tear of flesh as the Elf struck the man's ear and blood spilled, a rust like crimson ichor. Elthas knew what was coming next and grinned. The inferior opponent thought he could take the Elf off his guard! This man is not only depraved, he is naught more than a street urchin! Look at how he fights! His opponent's knowledge of combat was not refined, it was dirty and forged from the streets of Radasanth's school of hard knocks. Elthas grinned even wider even as his opponent rushed him. There was no attempt to move or evade the attack, Elthas was prepared to take whatever his opponent could dish out.

Using his superior body mass to his opponent, Elthas stood his ground. However, due to the nature of his previous attack, Elthas's forward momentum was off ever so slightly. The mistake of a rookie-cadet. Elthas growled when the air was knocked out of his lungs at the surprisingly strong foe. He was knocked off his feet, but the momentum of battle was still shifting in his favour. With his free arm, Elthas prepared his counter-strike maneuver. His foe had made the unfortunate mistake of exposing his back to Elthas. Elthas would take full advantage of the error in judgment. As Elthas maneuvered his left arm, he kept his right arm to his side as well. Using both arms in a rather ugly striking technique, the Elf used both. He slashed downwards with his forward momentum even as he was knocked off his feet.

He aimed for the man's upper back region with the dual-pronged strike. Then, the ground came up underneath the Elf as he fell. It seemed like he fell for an eternity due to his advanced Elven reflexes, but he fell nonetheless. When he did finally make contact with the glass-covered ground, Elthas growled once more. Pain cut through his back as sharp fingers of glass cut through him. There was blood pouring out of the injuries, but luckily, the glass had not punctured too deep. They were a complex network of superficial surface wounds, but the blood was already pouring from them. Elthas was hurt, but the injury would not slow him down...yet. As he struck with both hands, he waited to see if his counter strike would lick the man's own back to return the favor.

[The Sin Eater]

An excruciating pain rampaged through Tom's body as the Elf's two blades pierced his back, he screamed and pain tears filled his eyes. As the dagger left his body he could feel a frightening amount of blood flush out of his veins. If his foe hadn't been tumbling backwards taking his deadly weapons with him then they would have surely pierced his longs and ended the fight before it had properly started.

Because his attention was taken by his own pain he didn't notice the Elf's growl as he landed in the sharp glass spikes. After he crashed to the ground together with his opponent Thomas could now clearly see who he was fighting. It was a bold Elf, something he had never seen before as they used to be proud of their normally long hair. He could see an all to familiar hatred in the man's glowing blue eyes. Sadly he didn't have the luxury to study his opponent's appearance so he didn't pay any further attention.

Now partly on top of the athletically build Elf, Tom thought himself to have an advantage over his enemy and considered it his turn to cause the pain. Trying to change his pain into rage he used his weight and strength in an attempt to keep his foe below him. In a vile move he put his left knee on Elthas his groin and with a mighty swing he aimed his left hand - wielding an iron knuckle duster - at his opponent's head so he could turn his pretty face into a deserted wasteland. Because his hand was only barely weighed down by the small and light knuckle duster he could easily land multiple hits per second if his opponent wouldn't somehow counteract him.

He simply had to recognize his nemesis as superior in both speed and stealth so he tried to turn this into a test of Tom's strongest points: strength, dirty techniques and pain insensitivity.

[Elthas_Belthasar]

Due to the obvious rookie mistake he had made, Elthas was now underneath his opponent. Which was a very dangerous place to be in any battle situation. Elthas, though his reflexes and speed was superior, could not see underneath what his foe was doing. He simply growled anew when he felt the pain strike from his nether regions. Elthas kept his eyes locked on the eyes of his opponent. The man's second strike struck true, and he felt a sharp bruise swell up at the side of his skull as the attack connected. Elthas, though vulnerable, was by no means weak. He reacted to the fullest capacity that the situation would allow him.

Though his natural instinct was to faint from the pain he now felt all over his body, he held on to the conscious world of the Firmanent. Elthas had military training which was the only thing that kept him alive. He had prepared for situations such as these. Focusing on the blades in his hands, Elthas kept his concentration on the dual wielded weapons. Rotating them quickly, he prepared for another dual-pronged attack. He slashed at his opponent's neck with one hand, and the other, went to the middle-region where his opponent's side was located. He didn't care of either of the attacks missed, he only cared to disable his foe at this point. If one of the attacks connected, Elthas had one more desperate gamble he could pull out of his bag of tricks...

[The Sin Eater]

As Tom struck his opponent's face he grinned and was about to continue his violent beating until he noticed a blood tanned blade coming dangerously close to his neck. 'Damn he's fast, he thought, 'I really shouldn't underestimate him.'

Laying on top was of no use when you got your throat pierced so Thomas gave up his advantage and rolled to the side and off his opponent. Because it was out of his sight he hadn't seen the Elf's other blade aimed at his side and rolled right into it. Though it eagerly connected with his body it came in it at the wrong angle because it wasn't meant to strike him already, nevertheless the blade caused a severe and painful flesh wound. Loosing even more blood then before his vision shortly turned to black and he almost passed out.

The Elf's incredible quick reflexes combined with his two deadly blades had scared Tom and he did not quite feel liking taking too much risk anymore. Growling as he did he quickly got back up to create some distance and readied himself to call upon the powers of his evil master he both hated and needed. He was only granted access to the demon's energy when he was severely hurt, but since he bled like a pig there was no doubt about his ability to summon its magic. Thomas uttered a single, vile whisper and felt a dark energy flow freely through his body and temporarily taking command of his muscles. There was a short flash and within a mere moment Tom's still unused short sword turned into a powerful nine-tailed whip with painful nails at the end. Though fast, it wasn't an instant transformation and he had to shortly wait for the demon magic to complete the process.

When it had done so, Tom moved his right arm back to prepare for a vigorous slash at his dangerous foe. He knew that if it would properly connect the nails would bury themselves into the Elf's flesh, constricting his movement and maybe even allowing Tom to pull him closer if he wished to do so. Like pretty much everything he ever did, it was quite a risky maneuver as he needed to have constant strong grip with his right arm, rendering it defenseless as well as restricting his own movement. He could only hope that in the end he it wouldn't be him who would suffer the most from it; as long as his opponent would loose more then he did, he won.

[Elthas_Belthasar]

When his opponent had rolled off his body, Elthas thought he had secured a win in the battle. He rolled quickly to a standing position and turned just in time to see the powerful whip coming in. Elthas grinned as he realized what had happened, he had fallen for a sucker's trick. Elthas did the only thing he could do and that was shift his center of gravity to a slight angle. He sacrificed a healthy arm in order to intercept the incoming weapon. The whip wrapped itself around the forearm of the Elf, digging deep.

Blood sprayed from the vicious injuries that resulted. Elthas thought his powers would be enough to withstand the vicious attack, but he was wrong. When his flesh was torn by the tiny blades, the Elf growled out in agony. His blue blood sprayed everywhere into the air, and splashed upon the rocks below him. Elthas was snared by the whip and was making attempts at pulling away. He had no choice. He dropped the blade in the snared arm on the ground and readied his other blade.

Twirling it quickly with considerable skill, Elthas suddenly threw the blade at his opponent. He figured that the advertised tactic would not do well against his opponent, but it was more of a distraction technique than anything else. As Elthas threw the blade, his body moved against the whip that had him snared. He attempted to pull away from the whip at that point using what strength he could muster. He was reacting quickly to the whip attack with his reactive skill, but he was bleeding all over the place. He was severely injured, and fatigue was catching up to the bounty hunter. He had one last ace-in-the-hole he could pull out if the technique was needed...