All Fall Down

[Liliana Ambria]

(Closed)


The room was relatively bright, the torches that dotted the walls were by and far the sole source of illumination. Three tables were set in the room, with several seats spread amongst them. Two were completely empty, waiting for occupants to liven up the room even more, even as the lead table set in the middle of the room. Chairs were spread through out the small chamber, giving more people a chance to watch the events that were about to unfold. This was a chance for the fledgling Ixian Knights to finally showcase some of the strength that they had boasted for quite some time.

Sei had at first spoke of banning the event. At first such a spectacle was decided far too barbaric for his tastes, and his sense of pride and honor forbade him from even listening to the full proposition. Eventually the excitement, just the thought of what could be generated in his men a mental background he could not avoid. No matter where he went, everyone was thinking about it. The Psion was used to filtering out such thoughts, but when everyone was thinking the same thing, it was like trying to block out thousands of kids screaming in his ear. Eventually he had to at least listen to the proposition, if only so he could tell people why it wasn't happening.

Now, now he was playing the mediator as the two warriors who would soon fight urged him not to dismiss it out of hand. Now, the two people who perhaps knew the most about these warriors, were going to speak about them, in a manner no one could. They spoke not of their exploits or their achievements. Not a word could be spoken of their actions and their attitudes, no. The point of view was one of an insider, of one of the few people who not only knew them, but understood them. One was dressed in the simple garb of a peasant woman. Her brown hair was braided in a tight ponytail that was more pragmatic than any true sense of Radasanth fashion. Her simple demeanor belied a cunning that shined in her eyes even as she viewed the people entering the room and sitting.

One could not help but imagine her counting them as sheep in a flock.

Still she sat upon a chair politely waiting even as her counterpart entered the room. While she was dressed the part of a commoner, this woman was garbed more in the traditional outfit of a mercenary and a warrior. Her outfit was obviously designed with practicality and flexibility in mind. A uniform of a long forgotten order her crimson locks were also placed back in a tight ponytail, capturing every last strand, and preventing her from worrying about such trivialities should a fight break out.

Once the bells tolled the hour, the venerable Mystic leader Sei Orlouge entered the room and faced the growing audience before he nodded to the two woman and reassuringly patted the red head on the shoulder, Welcome everyone to this exhibition match. In a rather odd sense these two men are baring it all for you, more to prove something to themselves than anyone. This is the pre-fight measuring that will determine the odds on this bout, as well as give some people a subtle sense of appreciation for what these men have put themselves through on their way to where they are going. In an effort to avoid bias I have brought in the two best experts we have on these warriors, Liliana Dahlios, wife of the infamous Lavinian Demon Seth Dahlios, and Stephanie Odara, fiancée of the Enigmatic Immortal Jensen Ambrose.

We have broken this panel into a few short debates on the strengths and weaknesses of these warriors, and in order to keep these women from their obvious bias, we have devised an interesting compromise. With these woman having learned much of the other warrior's capabilities, and the intimate knowledge they have of their significant other's skills they will be arguing against their love. Liliana Dahlios will be representing Jensen Ambrose, with Stephanie Odara supporting Seth Dahlios. Without further delay we open the forum to the first argument, weaponry.

Liliana cleared her throat before she spoke, "For weaponry we broke everything down into three simple categories; melee, ranged, and magical. In the melee weapon category we have Seth's myriad of daggers and Jensen's punch knives. While Seth is a master of knife fighting, Jensen's use of the punch knife could very well throw him off. A punch knife is far easier to read, but harder to do anything about. Punches are far easier to throw than knife swings, which you must judge arc and extension. Even a near miss can translate to a harmful blow as a punch knife gives less room for error than normal."

"However, let us not forget that Jensen's use of the punch knife is very limited. While he is practiced and versed in their use, he is still far from the expert Seth is when it comes to the mundane weaponry at his disposal. The Lavinian Demon is no slouch in close and the last credible count, which was prior to the fight mind you, puts him at the obsidian knife Malice, the dragon bone dagger Spite, two as of yet unnamed dragon bone daggers, and a delyn dagger that Seth has said is awaiting its name. These all create a deadly arsenal that far outstrips the single punch knife and studded gloves that Jensen boasts," Stephanie retorted.

Sei nodded softly, In the realm of mundane melee weaponry we could find no situation that Seth Dahlios does not come out on top. In this manner we have given the edge to Seth Dahlios when it comes to melee weaponry.

"While Melee is firmly in Seth's control when it comes to ranged combat Seth Dahlios begins to falter. With five kunai throwing knives that have been dyed to reflect no light, one might think he would again have the edge in ranged weaponry. Akashiman throwing knives are well balanced and in a pinch can be substituted as his favored weapon after all, yet I put forth Jensen has the edge when it comes to range for one reason. He is versed in perhaps the deadliest throwing weapon yet produced, the throwing glaive," Stephanie continued unabated looking at Liliana for her words on the situation.

"Jensen's throwing glaives are indeed a rough projectile to ignore. My husband's knives, while almost invisible in twilight or low light conditions creates a more deadly adversary at his preferred times. The throwing glaive however, is designed to spin as a discus. In doing so it presents its triple blades in such a way that to snatch it from the air, puts the hands of the defender at risk. As anyone who uses knives to fight can tell you, the hands are a knife fighter's life line. If they are injured beyond fluid control, the preferred way for them to win a fight is greatly diminished," Liliana added.

So in the realm of ranged combat it came as no contest that Jensen would win for his awkward choice of ranged weaponry, Sei concluded before he gestured to Liliana who looked upon Stephanie and sighed. Stephanie nodded and began;

"In the realm of magical weaponry, Seth boasts several things. First and foremost are the most familiar knives to him, Ebony and Ivory. Slowly over the years their blade has been honed and reformed until finally they have been mixed with Prevalida. Boasting easily one of the strongest metals in Althanas Ebony and Ivory gain notoriety for two traits they share. The first and foremost is that they act as if coated in salt. This means that anyone harmed by the knives will feel intense pain as the blades enhance any pain to beyond tolerable levels. The second is that if anyone other than Seth touches them, Ebony and Ivory violently react, attacking their newfound wielders and inflicting pain."

"Jensen counters with access to his friends most potent weapon, the Crozius. Designed to enhance the traits of an already impressive physique, in the hands of Jensen, this great maul multiplies his strength fivefold. This gives the Immortal the ability to put Seth on the defensive, where a single blow can be the end of a match. Seth may be able to wear out the Immortal, but he might not be able to finish him off, and in such a case, the Immortal using this very weapon could make all the difference," Liliana countered.

"This however all pales in consideration to Seth's access to one of the most potent artifacts Althanas has ever seen. The Changeling amulet is a powerful artifact capable of turning into any piece of armor or weapon required by the wielder for short periods of time. While on it's own this may seem potent the Lavinian Demon has learned how to effectively think around corners with this very trinket, as it gives him access to whatever he needs to accomplish his goals," Stephanie responded before they remained silent.

It became clear at the end of this that while Jensen Ambrose has a myriad of tools at his disposal, Seth Dahlios has access to far better tools, and has the guts to use them, Sei finished before he nodded softly and looked over to the woman and sighed, In the overall category of Weaponry, it has become clear that the victor is Seth Dahlios, so long as he keeps the engagement close ranged. Edge has to go to Seth Dahlios.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

There was the soft whispers of people on the sidelines, many nobles and some commoners in the second row seating that discussed in private the words spoken. Against the back wall where Sei was located there were two posters. Each was a massive portrait of both warriors, having Jensen standing on a rocky hill with trench coat flapping in the breeze behind him. The other was of Seth Dahlios, bending over a stack of skulls with two blades angled downwards in his hunched over seated position. An Ai’Bron monk casually lifted up his hands, muttered a few words, and stepped forwards before placing a wanted poster sized image of a sword on the wall just above Seth’s head.

Satisfied, Sei turned to back to the girls and smiled to them. Each gave him a polite nod back as Stephanie lowered her glass of water, clearing her throat. Sei watched as Liliana calmly lowered a stack of papers, placing them to the side neatly as she prepared for the second debate.

“Next up is the each gentlemen’s training regimen and experience.” Sei said getting everyone’s attention again. Liliana looked to Stephanie and nodded in a gesture to let the red head go first. Thanking her, she rose upwards and began to speak in a clear and concise manner.

“It’s not a small wonder that Seth Dahlios is capable of killing. History alone should be more than enough evidence to support this claim. Since birth on the streets of Lavinya the hex-thief has learned to do one simple thing: survive. There is no alternative for him. Seth fights each battle and through the constant struggles and battles he has created himself a fighting style that is wholly unique, and terrifying to fight in battle. Seth trains in the crucible of battle to learn his skills in savagery.”

Liliana actually let out a small giggle as she heard those words, but politely placed a hand upon her mouth to stifle them. When Stephanie sat down, she rose eloquently and addressed the people with a fair smile.

“Being the wife of Seth, I can attest that indeed the Lavinian Demon bathes in the blood of his enemies. But I can assure you that it is not that training that makes him unique. Seth has the adventure’s knack, or in simpler terms,” She turned to Stephanie, winked politely making the girl smile, before turning back to the audience that was captivated by her oratory. “Luck.”

To that declaration several nobles seemed to grow upset, clearly showing where their money lied. Yet there were some, in the back rows, who merely nodded as if they had found out the this long ago and was always waiting for someone to confirm it. Tension rose and like a maestro to a choir Liliana orchestrated its ebb and flow with ease. She paused at the right moments, elaborated where needed, and made sure to punctuate her points in a manner that could not be refuted. With a grin she continued on.

“Yes, it is luck hat Seth has been running on. He wears his opponents down, then goes for the killing blow. Everyone has heard those stories, but actual formal training? Seth has none. Jensen Ambrose however is a walking war machine. He was bred for battle from birth, a warrior in the now defunct Knights of Apocalypse. Each warrior is trained to fight with their heads and strengths, and at the coming of age they are given to master one path so sublimely they become an aspect of the Horsemen they worship. In the case of Mr. Ambrose, that’s one on one fighting and assassinations. Jensen also has taken his fighting knowledge further, training with a man who I do believe is the most brutal out there in the world. Ta’Gaz No-Shiba, the legendary hand to hand expert. He trained Jensen personally, and as Ms. Odara can attest to, this is saying something monument us.”

Liliana did another planned pause to let the news sink in as she sipped her water. “To top it all off, Jensen has studied a unique brand of fighting that is so unorthodox that no other warrior can even understand it. The chaos that is Jensen’s fighting style is in fact the peak of evolutionary fighting. He lives, eats, breaths, and sleeps fighting, which is something not even Seth can claim.”

Sei looked to his document with a sigh, scratching his head. The choice was rather hard, but having fought both men he too knew of their strengths in training. “There is no easy way to put this, but with experience in fighting I’d want to lean towards Seth, however, Jensen has proven time and again his ferocity in battle. Even I sometimes find myself back pedaling from his insane antics. You cannot pin point the weakness in Jensen, for like the wind he changes his strengths and adapts far swifter than Seth. Edge in training will go to Jensen.” A monk behind Sei lifted up a picture of a book, and gently placed it above Jensen’s head. Satisfied Sei stood up and walked forwards. “This final category will determine who advances gets the edge in this coming battle. To clarify what that means the person with the most Edge’s will be the one to decide which combatant gets to create their arena of choice. Each warrior gave me three scenarios, and I choose one from the winners pool. The final subject: The X-Factor.”

Several people began to murmur as Stephanie popped her neck and fingers, a look of confidence on her face. Liliana had a favored confident look as well, but the same thing was in both women’s eyes: Sorrow. Each one seemed to preoccupy themselves with something as Sei looked to them. With a small mental apology he elaborated what he meant.

“The X-Factor is each warriors flair, something that could never be duplicated by another. For this part, I am going to allow the roles to reverse in who represents who. Liliana, please take the floor.” Liliana thanked Sei as she stood again, and with a bit of reluctance began.

“My husband is the Lavinian Demon. He is a monster who has little morals when it comes to fighting. In such an arena as the Citadel, where there is no need for a conscious, he truly diverts back into the fiend he has become legendary for. Double that knowing Jensen Ambrose is Immortal, and Seth will hold absolutely nothing back and feel joy for doing so.” Liliana took a step back and leaned against the desk.

“But that’s not what makes him terrifying. What makes him such an abomination is his Hex Magic. By corrupting his own soul Seth has been granted gifts and spells by the dread magician Mordecai. These spells include making somebody experience the worst death imaginable, doubling their pain, slowing or even stopping the opponent, forcing Jensen to atone for every sin in his life, or outright erasing someone from existence. His nifty trick is the Gift of the Magi. An ability that resets Seth back to full health. A trick that he has used to win countless battles. Nobody in the world can claim to best such abilities, and the last time the two went at Seth did the same trick and defeated Jensen for it.”

“This is what makes Seth stronger in my eyes,” Liliana said in a small choke. Droplets of water formed around her eyes and she could feel Stephanie’s hand rubbing her back gently. “Jensen has never corrupted his own soul. Jensen doesn’t have the dedication to destruction like Seth has! He can’t win this fight because he has no resolve to utterly see his opponent dead, regardless of the cost!” Liliana took a moment to regain her composure, and instead of finishing her words she instead stood back up, turned to her chair, and sat in it.

Stephanie nodded to her, offering her a small hug before standing. She looked to everyone with confidence and then spoke in a reserved manner. “Jensen Ambrose is soon to be my husband, and I know him better than anyone in the entire world. So these words I say come from a lover’s heart, a friend’s eyes, and peers intuition. Seth is indeed dedicated to absolute destruction. Jensen is not. But that is only because Jensen is committed to Obliteration. He does not just kill his foes. He gets inside their minds and picks them apart. Even should he die, he ruins everything in their soul that makes them whole and tears every foundation he can like a rampaging Fallien Oliphant. Nobody who fights Jensen, nobody can leave the battle feeling whole again. He breaks something so precious and ruins it that it nags you forever until the day you die.”

“Yet like Seth, that is not the only thing Jensen is bringing. He is immortal, and he cannot die. Someone who is on the path of carnage like Seth cannot hope to win against an opponent who cannot die. Jensen will always return back to the living, alive and well and laughing into your very soul to mock you for even trying. Many a foe has been scared by the battles of Jensen coming back to haunt them. William Arcus, Adolph Gretzle, Duffy Bracken, Visla Eraclaire, these are but just a small bucket in the pool of renown he has tainted. He is the only man to actually scare Cassandra Remi, the Gisela Reaper half to death, and she still harbors ill will that cannot be fathomed. There is nothing in Seth’s arsenal that he can bring that Jensen cannot return from. There is only one way to keep Jensen Ambrose down for any length of time.”

Stephanie felt Liliana’s hand grip hers, holding it tightly. The one thing that made Jensen such a bastard to fight was the one thing that caused her endless grief and suffering. To even think of it made her squirm and tear up. Yet she promised her soon to be husband she would be strong for him and present all the facts. She steeled her courage and spoke again.

“You can only keep Jensen down for any length of time by utterly eradicating him. You cannot just simply kill Jensen, or he’ll return. The only method of which to kill the immortal is to overkill him. You must be strong willed enough to wholly, and mercilessly destroy the foe. Seth can kill, he has shown that, but I have never seen or heard stories of Seth where his methods have left a man unrecognizable or completely destroyed. Seth doesn’t have the means to truly keep Jensen down, and this is what makes Jensen the more freighting opponent.”

There was a long period of silence as Stephanie sat down. Both points were well brought up, and the ideas behind them were solid in every manner. Immortality, Hex Magic, experiences and personal hardships. Both warriors know what combat is, and Sei had a tough choice to make here. Standing up and motioning for the room to follow him to the viewing chamber he continued to think.

The viewing chamber itself was huge. Several rows of chairs were filled and the noise level was high. Ixian Knights, common people, Coronian Guard and even mercenaries all showed up to see this fight. Letho Ravenheart, a man of the greatest respect in Corone had attempted to keep himself out of the limelight but failed as reporters shoved a recording orb into his face. He tried to calm them down, and eventually he answered the question on everyone’s mind of who would win.

“I would give the edge to Dahlios. In all truth, I do not know much about this Ambrose. Saw him fight in the Citadel once and the kid has got some flair, sure, if you like that prancing around like a loon style. He also seems pretty light on his feet, so I would probably have a hard time catching him. But Dahlios has a few tricks up his sleeve to take care of that, and a few tricks more, and some tricks on top of that. Fighting him is like trying to wrap your hand around an electric eel; even if you get a good grip, you will get hurt in the process. Besides, that bastard is the toughest man I know. He is gritty and stubborn as all hell and I think he would keep coming at you even if he had but one leg to hop on and a stump of an arm to beat you with. Now, this Ambrose fellow, some say he is immortal. But from my experience these claims of immortality usually expire once someone big enough and bad enough comes around. Seth Dahlios is both. If I had to fight that bastard today, I would have to think twice about who to put my money on. But in this particular case, I have very little doubt.”

Several reporters flocked around the room, finding big named individuals and asking them. It seemed all walks of life from Jensen’s past as well as Seth’s came out to see this spectacle, and the Citadel had created a domed facility to account for any arena that the warrior’s came up with, as well letting the audience get a Gods eye view of the situation.

A group of people flocked over to Zerith Dracosius as the man sat down in the reserved section for the Ixian Knight’s Nine generals, sitting next to Duffy Bracken and Stephanie who nodded to him as Liliana smiled sweetly to a reporter as she waved him off. “Mr. Dracosius, your thoughts please!”

“Look, all I’m going to say is my thoughts on this battle, and that’s all. I think I'm going to go with Jensen on this one. Don't get me wrong though, from what I've heard I doubt I would stand a chance against the Lavinian Demon. I just think people shouldn't overlook the fact that Jensen doesn't die. I'd imagine Seth would play those tricks of his and probably outsmart Jensen over and over again, but my buddy would just get back up every single time. If I were to put my coin on a winner, it would have to be Jensen. As Seth will probably tire himself out after ‘killing’ him five or six times, which would then leave him open to one of the immortals finishers.”

“Anytime you put two experienced warriors like these together in a duel, you're bound to see fireworks and the end result will always shock you. In this case I think the location will determine the winner. If Ambrose can make this a brawl, keep it out in the open and amp up the crazy fast enough, he'll probably steal a swift victory by knockout. Dahlios is one nasty guy though, and while he might stand and fight at first, once he tastes the immortal's power he may try to drag the duel into deep water, and a less conventional setting. If the Lavinyan can force Ambrose to fight on his terms - somewhere Dahlios' stealth and cunning tactics can help him - I believe he'll win via referee stoppage due to having devoured his opponent.” A voice filled through the arena as people laughed at his implied half joke. His body was taught and he looked like a well renowned fighter of his own, each part of chiseled body perfect in everyway.

Sei stepped forward, his eyes looking over the hundreds who came. He lifted his hands up to silence them, and after sometime he at long last got the attention he waited for. The two large posters of the warriors were curled above Sei, ready to open and reveal who has the edge to be the Fiercest Warrior.

“I have listened to arguments from top notch experts, heard testimonies, as well as come up with my own intuitions on the manner. I want this clear, that I do not pick anyone out of favoritism. These choices are all made off the facts I have been given as well as personal experience. That being said, I have had a real tough time figuring who will have the edge with the all powerful X-Factor.”

Cheers and taunts started building up in one side of the massive arena, a wail of laughter followed by a rhyming insult towards Seth’s character. Several people lifted banners proudly showing their support of the immortal as a long thirty person flag unfurled to reveal a very crude drawing of Jensen kicking a butt with a pair of eyes looking out from under a bed, the words ‘Who’s scared of the boogeyman?’ in bold print. Liliana laughed with Stephanie as several other people began to cheer for Seth, showing proud banners of their own. A sign that said ‘Immortalities a bitch, and then you’re erased from time!’ causing even the normally stoic Ta’Gaz to let out a snort of mirth. Sei let the people goad the other people on as he waited, and then when he had attention again he nodded to them all.

The banners exploded to either side of him, unfurling to reveal Jensen standing on a hill in the same pose as before, however a third banner unfurled connecting the two pictures showing the immortal looking up at Seth who stood on the opposite side of a canyon with bodies surrounding him, looking to Jensen with hungry eyes. The people cheered loudly as thunderous calls for battle filled every seat. They wanted this to begin, and they wanted to know who has the final edge in the end. It was not easy for Sei to choose among friends, but he promised them as well that he would do his best and pick when the time came. Sei lifted one hand upwards to the banners and spoke loudly into the coliseum.

“[I]Edge goes to Seth Dahlios!”

[Dissinger]

It was time.

The adrenaline entered his system, building up to an anticipation that was its own sweet agony. Hands rested on the hilts of daggers, even as boots clicked across the stones of the citadel. From the boots were loose fitting leather, just as he had worn when he began his journey. The vest, stolen from the guard he had killed in Scara Brae during a daring heist of it's own arena, was polished up yet still there was that persistent stain, from where Seth had stabbed the man through his back and into his lungs.

His linen shirt was a bright white, freshly bleached and cleaned just for the occasion, though the brightness was diminished by the dusty leather jacket he wore. Wild tussles of hair were carefully weighed down under the wide brim of the leather hat he wore, even as he strode forward calmly. Every fourth step was accentuated with the ringing of a bell (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9_kEqPnOso), something that seemed to only increased the tension with every step.

The crowd all at once rowdy and loud silenced itself, even as those boots moved inexorably forward. The bets were still being placed, even as Seth entered into the arena, stepping before Sei that roguish grin on his face. His eyes were alight with a rare genuine enthusiasm, something that he though he had lost years ago to his ever hungry ambition. Yet today was a day of unprecedented popularity, even if he was hailed as the villain for the rest of his life, today he could forget everything that troubled him, and relish in his life.

You won the debate Seth, so you get to choose three arenas, and I'll pick which one is used, The Mystic looked upon his long time acquaintance. The thief gently stroked his chin in thought even as that grin never left his face.

"How about a castle under siege? Sound like a good idea?" Seth replied in his trademark sarcasm. Sei raised an eyebrow to challenge his friend's words before the thief chuckled and shook his head, "You're right I don't like it much either. Had a bit of charm, but doesn't truly grasp the epic feel."

He seemed to look up for inspiration before he shook his head, "Option two was to go for a ship in a storm, but that's been done to death hasn't it? So I guess that leaves only one last one huh?" Sei gestured for Seth to finish before the thief grinned, recognizing the power he held, "How about in a sea, parted right down the middle with the water on either side? I want it to look like someone tore a strip of water out of the fucker."

You gave this no thought did you? Sei asked as he frowned crossing his arms.

"Doesn't matter to me, what matters to me is Jensen said he's finally caught up, and I want to see it. I don't give a damn what the hell these nobles think, this isn't for them, it isn't for the commoners, it isn't for anyone but me and him. I need to know Sei, and until I do I can't let it go. What's the point of making an arena to take advantage of my strengths? No, if I'm going to beat the pus out of the kid, I want it to be on my own. I don't want there to be some cry of foul play because of the arena chosen," It was then and only then he looked over at Liliana, and saw the dark circles around her eyes. He gave her a brave smile, the only way he knew how before he carefully pressed two fingers to his lips and stretched his arm towards her. She gave him a brave smile and nodded, trying to pretend like she wasn't going to see him at his worse.

Very well, we shall go with the last, at least it sounds something legendary in the making, Sei replied shaking his head at the foolhardy move of throwing away an obvious advantage. Seth moved past the mute patting him in the shoulder before he carefully took off his hat and put it on his wife's head. She looked up to him with a smile, even as the sadness never wavered in those eyes.

Seth wiped the smile off his face as he lowered his voice for her alone, "Don't worry Angel, if all goes well, I can finally relax."

"Seth, whatever happens, know I will never be disappointed in you," Liliana whispered back. She gave him a soft tender kiss before she pulled back and whispered, "Go on, you got a fight to do."

Seth smirked before he nodded and carefully took off his Jacket and Satchel, leaving them with his wife. The belt of daggers hung about his waist expectantly, ready to unleash its deadly payload on anyone foolish enough to try and threaten their wielder. Wearily he moved past his wife, giving a courteous nod to Stephanie who gave a small wave to the Lavinian. It wasn't even the fight yet and already Seth felt he was on a roller coaster of emotion, from anxiety to regret to excitement. Each emotion a mere stop on the ride to what he felt was a turning point to his life.

He moved towards the back under where the banners were hung revealing a portal forming as the Aibron monks raked his thoughts for the arena. Even though he had never given details, he knew that they would not disappoint. Everything would be just as he envisioned, such was their ability to predict, or perhaps even read his mind. As dangerous a prospect as that would be, he couldn't help but take a moment of pride in the act. He had been coming to this blasted place for going on twelve years, and he had been pushed to the limits in these very halls.

It was here that the year he had spent trying to gain power and murdering anyone who got in his way started, with the death of Velius Demorio. It was here that he had met his rival Damon Kaosi, who had moved on to be a hero of Raiaera. He had met Andy Rorton, a General of the army that was trying to destroy Radasanth in these very halls. They held much of the Lavinian's history, even the surrounding area, where Letho under the curse of vampirism had taken on some of Seth's personal demons. It seemed fitting that the end of an era would be occurring here.

Moving up to the portal he gave a casual salute to the monk, who nodded with a smile of his own, before the demon entered the magical vortex.

When he stepped out his eyes had to adjust to the glaring light. His boots squelched in the mud, as the saturated dirt threatened to grip and pull them off his feet. He narrowed his eyes to limit the amount of light that assaulted his senses as he saw the odd fish flipping about in the muddy ground, trying desperately to breath now that the water was gone. This however was nothing compared to what he saw less than a few hundred yards away.

Before him, lay a wall that was a murky brown. He could have sworn he saw fish swimming about, moving up to the barrier curiously before swimming away. His eyes drank in the details as he saw he had similar clearance on the other side as well. They had maybe a thousand yards between the two walls of water, and maybe a dozen miles in either direction to the shores. He truly was smack dab in the center of a sea, in which there was a strip of missing water to fight.

A smile crept across his face before he said it, "Well I'll be damned, I didn't think it would work..."

[Enigmatic Immortal]

There was tension in the air so tangible that the immortal stuck his tongue out and tasted it. He swished it around his mouth like green wash and let his eyes flutter at the ecstasy of expectancy and anticipation. One lone warrior stood before him, dressed in the regal blue robes of the Ixian Knights, but his hood was down revealing a short cropped black hair and piercing blue eyes. He lifted up the deadly war maul that was his staff of office, the gift he had presented the man for his birthday. With no words exchanged Jensen took Crozius in his hands and smiled to the man, his comrade.

“I’ll bring it back to you, Adolph,” He assured the Chaplain. The man merely shook hs head with a grin, patting Jensen on the back as he walked forwards towards his destiny. He had dreamed of this moment, this rematch in the making. It had taken years, long years of personal training and suffering in order to reach a level where he felt confident that he could stand on a plateau that was not looking up at Seth Dahlios, but across it. He turned behind him to see the red headed witch Aislinn lift her mechanical hand to Adolph’s, gripping it tightly as she looked to Jensen with a carrying eye. She was the first of all his friends to denote this barbaric call for primacy, but like everyone else eventually it was made clear.

Seth had said it before; There could be only one.

He nodded to her, a Cheshire grin on his face building up as he heard the gongs call forth for Seth’s approach. The roaring crowd had suddenly faded into a stunned silence, and the overwhelming tide of anxiety at last erupted in the manner all to fitting for the immortal. He laughed in a dry manner, wiggling his toes within the confines of his polished boots. To this battle he wore the full sleeved jacket of Xsejnen Ambrose, his doppelganger from another world. The names of his friends who perished so long ago burned a warmth that calmed his raging nerves, and the stitching of his new friends; Tobias, Zerith, Duffy, Sei Anita, Kyla, Adolph, and so many more joined them on the inside of the coat. Yet one name had no home yet on the jacket. He wanted to face him first, one last time to prove he could stand as more than an equal to the Lavinian demon.

At last there was a chiming, a piping of noise followed by the sudden beat of marching drums. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Xfvk028Kv0) They moved in a tandem, starting with one drum before another two joined. After a moment several more joined in until there was over ten drums beating against the cured leather in a beat that caused the heart to spike in excitement. Jensen felt his blood flowing freely, the bubbling emotions of primal challenge only serving to build upwards into a loud riotous laughter. It infected the people as he marched forwards to the beat of the drums, his body become a slave to their beat as he began to teeter left in right in a smooth rhythm.

When they saw him walking forwards there was a roar of approval from hundreds of people who supported the immortal. Zerith and Duffy both cheered for him to give Seth hell as the Knight of Apocalypse marched forwards towards the arena. He stopped, only turning abruptly as the drums continued to beat in their deadly gait, taunting him towards battle. He looked to see Stephanie holding Azza tightly. With a pained smile he nodded to her, lifting his jacket upwards in one motion, dumping it over their shoulders and face. Both girls giggled as they removed the jacket, seeing the man they loved run forwards with a scream of pure mirth on his face. It was his way, after all, to run into battle screaming like a jester of the end times.

He breezed by Sei, his eyes meeting with the telepaths and thinking loudly his thanks for giving him one last chance to prove himself. Sei merely turned to take his seat by his family, but the gleam in his eyes belied his stoic appearance. He knew he could no more deny Jensen this than he could lift up the island of Corone and relocate it. His feet carried him in a trot, nearly hitting a full stride as the Ai’Bron monks parted to let him through the portal. Whatever the hell the arena was mattered not to Jensen, if only it meant he could cut loose. He narrowed his head, passing by the familiar eyes of the monks who had set him up against some of the people who would define the character of Jensen Ambrose: Cassandra Remi, William Arcus, Sei Orlouge, and even Seth Dahlios. Without fear he entered the portal, laughing wildly into the air a shrill cry of battle like a banshee of legend.

It took only a moment to enter the arena, and inside he saw the man already at the waiting. He held his hands on the pommels of his blades, eyes casting a mischievous glow of intent. Jensen never stopped his sprint, his feet carrying swiftly forwards as he felt the sand of the seabed bog his heavy impressions. With controlled ease he lifted the weight off the balls of his feet, moving with his toes forwards. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to truly stop to formulate a plan. No, this was exactly what the two needed. An arena with no excuses. Jensen laughed with all the gusto he was heralded for, fingers lifting up and two throwing glaives.

“Catch me if you can!” Jensen shrieked jumping over a rock that protruded from the ground. His weapons launched outwards before him, each spinning in the air at such high velocity. His feet never stopped moving, dropping a solitary package on the floor that was wrapped in brown linen by black fiber cables. His black clothing already had sweat stains, and he continued to cackle as he drew up a punch dagger and reversed held a throwing knife in his other hand.

He cared not one bit if his opening gambit was successful. All he cared about was getting to grips with Seth Dahlios and showing the old thief that he was no longer the top dog.

[Dissinger]

"You've got persistence, I'll give you that," Seth muttered even as the jester had launched the opening salvo. Glaives flew the distance between them, and Seth was all too aware that catching these particular throwing weapons would prove disastrous. So, instead of trying to avoid them he merely shook his head and clucked his tongue.

Karel, shield, Seth thought firmly.

An ancient voice as old as the amulet that remained firmly chained to his right gauntlet responded with a snort of derision before the amulet began to glow and formed into the solid frame of a shield. The glaives bounced harmlessly off the metal, even as the cackling advance of the Jester had clashed hard against the shield, metal shrieking against metal. Seth merely dug his boots into the mud and was rewarded with no traction as the blows of the charging immortal slid him back a few feet.

As the force of the immortal began to shift past the thief, he was already on the advance, using his stronger arm to shove the immortal off balance even as a knife appeared in his hand. While knife fighting was rarely done with a shield it was a testament to the thief's skill that he did not falter in striking at the immortal, who parried to blow and forced a lock up of the two. Jensen's eyes held a glint of mischief even as the amusement shined in Seth's own. The Changeling Amulet began to glow once more taking the form of the trinket on his wrist before Seth shoved with all his strength and forced the two apart only brief enough to lock up again a split second later with a knife in his hand to counter the blade that Jensen brought in for another blow.

Soon it became a series of exchanges, each ending in a deadlock with either striking full force at the other before his counterpart would evade or counter. An almost even match if not for the fact Jensen could react to Seth's expertly timed blows, and Seth could anticipate and properly deflect Jensen's speedier ones. Both were grinning the entire time, even as sweat began to stain the perfect white of Seth's shirt, darkening the color and slowly brining everything to the muddy brown that surrounded them. Seth smirked before he said, "Well I'll give you two points for forcing me to do this early in the fight." Before the Immortal could voice his question Seth threw a punch and hissed, "Life is passing you by..." Grey energy arced along his fist even as the ball of energy arced towards the Jester, who widened his eyes in shock at the dirty tactic Seth was displaying. As Seth backpedaled to buy a little time and to properly assess the situation he called out, "Hey if its worth fighting for, its worth fighting dirty for!"

[Enigmatic Immortal]

“Ah this is so gay!” Jensen hollered in mirth as his body vaulted backwards, his back skidding across the mud. His fingers released their grip on the punch knife, letting it clatter on the ground with a wet plop. He kicked his feet upwards to turn his dive into a roll, body tumbling end-over-end twice before he could pull out the weapon needed to counter Seth’s magic. The orb lowered itself, preparing to strike the warrior dead in his tracks, but with swiftness born from his training a war maul flew upwards. The cackling energy of the Crozius met with Seth’s Hex Magic causing a miniature explosion that tossed Jensen further back in the mud dragging him across the slippery surface.

There was a soft silence before Jensen filled the void with laughter, kicking up to his feet as he roared defiantly to the Lavinian Demon. He was already rushing forwards again, this time with the deadly maul in hand. When they met Seth was sure to block each and every blow at the shaft, never letting the amplified strength enchantment connect. They moved in a flurry of motion, both whipping around the other attempting to gain the upper hand. Seth crashed his weapons in an x pattern, riding them all the way to the tip of the maul. He loosened his grip and let the blades ride around so he locked the weapon downwards in the crossed blades. With all his force he began to push the weapon downwards.

Knowing full well Seth was the stronger of the two, Jensen had waited patiently with giggling anticipation for such a moment. At long last it had come, and he wanted to thank Seth personally for giving him his first real opening. With an obnoxious high pitched laugh he released his grip on the weapon, stepping backwards long enough to rotate his body for a sinister roundhouse, preparing to finish the assault with his famous uppercut.

“Show me your moves!” Jensen screamed jovially.

[Dissinger]

Time had not slowed down the Lavinian, nor had his magic slowed down the Immortal. Despite his attempt at gaining some breathing room they were once again at each others throats. Blows were exchanged, curses hissed between clenched teeth. This was what he lived for, his entire reason for existing anymore. This ecstasy, this joy that kindled in his chest, the fervor of battle and the blood lust that overcame him when it finally was joined. It was pure and clean and simple, he didn't think so much as react, turning to instincts honed over twelve years of killing. Instincts that had never steered him wrong...

...until today.

The fist came from nowhere, slamming into his jaw and leaving the Lavinian to contemplate how he had messed up. His teeth clacked shut in the wake of the push pushing his bone's together, before pain exploded in his jaw. A grunt was the only indication that it was at all discomforting to the aged rogue. He fell backwards as the momentum carried him off his feet, his daggers slipping from the grasp of his hands. The mud splash ever so slightly as it clung to the Lavinian, an embrace that threatened to never let him go.

The words of the Immortal were lost in the replay of what had just happened before a dry chuckle escaped the throat of the Lavinian, who even now was on the rise. The Immortal lashed out with a kick sure to go for the head, and he was rewarded with his assumption being correct. Foot bounced off mithral plate before another curse flew through the air. A knife was scooped up from the mud, the metal blade almost lost in the dark almost pitch black silt that had deposited itself on the seabed. Stabbing forward with the knife Jensen barely had the sense of presence to parry the blow, but the damage was already done. Even as he attempted to counterattack the other knife was plucked easily from the mud, its Prevalida blade glinting from the mud bed.

Ivory was sheathed even as he leaned back from the blow and grabbed a chunk of the mud from beneath his feet, that roguish grin never letting up as he flung mud at Jensen. A glint of amusement filtered into his eyes for only the briefest of moments before he spat out the cliché retort that could be seen from a mile away, "Here's mud in your eyes!"

It had always been his failing, the inability to shut up even when the situation warranted it. It had set him apart from others like Damon Kaosi, who often called the thief a brash braggart that would end up dead on someone's blade. It was the tongue that had enraged Letho Ravenheart to the point of almost losing the love of his life to the thief's wily antics. Seth Dahlios had lasted this long with these antics, and he would be damned if he would leave his shenanigans out of this fight as well. Jensen would have possibly felt cheated if the Lavinian had not gone all out in an attempt to destroy the immortal and teach him just how far he had to go.

It was the damnable Lavinian Pride, and he wouldn't be half the man he was without it.

Moving in behind the mud ball the thief sought to end the fight quickly with a knife in the gut, his blade ebony failing to glint in the scorching heat of the sun. The mud that had caked onto Seth's back even now was slowly graying and falling off in clots with his maneuvers. He fought through the pain in his jaw, and refused to relinquish the one tool he relied on more than anything else, his voice.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen had attempted to cover his face to block the sudden bombardment of mud that Seth had thrown. If he was a few steps back he possibly could had deflected the simple minded assault, but his reckless determination to crush his foe gave him little wiggle room to avoid such an obvious counter. The Lavinian’s retort also stung in a different manner, like a tiny knife plunging into the heart of comedy as the immortal felt the sticky substance slam into his eyes.

There was a moment of shock as the mud stung his eyes, and he blinked repeatedly to create tears to flush out the dirt. His fingers moved upwards to wipe the grime from his eyes, his mouth coughing, lungs burning as he tried to let out that which could not be contained. His stomach boiled and pushed upon his diaphragm, the noise that had haunted several foes yearning to be free.

He hunched over to cough out the mud that had gotten into his mouth, snapping his head back up releasing the mud caked to his face as at long last he could see blurry visions before him. Not twenty-twnety vision, but it was enough. He roared with laughter, whopping like a jackass as he saw the blob shaped image of what could only be Seth Dahlios come right at him. He had no counter, hell he had no time to think of one let alone enact it. The Lavinian Demon charged forwards, his lips flowing another witty remark to the situation.

“I’ll gut you like a fish.” When the knife touched skin the immortal snapped into motion, his hands coming upwards and boxing the brawler’s ears. The blade faltered and managed to only cut his side, feet wobblingly side to side as he fought to regain his bearings. Jensen laughed as he gripped Seth’s face again, kneeing him in the stomach despite the pain he felt in his side. Blood flowed from the wound freely and mixed with the mud, adding to the quagmire. His boots shifted to the sides and he giggled, falling a bit on top of Seth and deciding to roll with it as he gripped the man’s stomach and wrenched him upwards and backwards in a perfect suplex. Both men hit the ground with a wet thud, mud splashing upwards then down again over their faces and body, truly getting both men earnestly dirty.

“Like a fish,” Jensen wheezed in mirth. “Get it? Cause we’re underwater!” The immortal howled loudly as both men rolled to the side away from the other, coming back up to their feet. Seth quickly adopted a closed fighting stance, but the immortal had other plans. His feet came forwards in wet plops, mud kicking up behind him as he jumped upwards with both feet and kicking Seth in chest. The Lavinian brought his arms up to defend the attack, but the traction-less ground made him trip and fall. Jensen roared with laughter, whopping as he went back on the assault, his agility moving his body like a snake as he moved side to side and struck the man in his sides and knees, cutting him to size.

The demon however was far from helpless. Each probing attack was met with cold steel, and blood ran all along the arms and legs as shallow cuts burned from the infections no doubt preparing as the mud sunk into the open wounds. Still, madness had truly gripped Jensen Ambrose and he roared defiantly with his never ending cackling.

It was the similarity the two warriors shared, but one was born of Pride, the other from Pain. Seth had his pride when he fought, and his mouth and wit were tools of war, but for Jensen battle was a cruel irony. For him, to participate in the most violent of contests was a joke. A cruel sick joke, because he could never die. He was incapable of fear, for what terror did death hold over an immortal? Not even the manner of death could stop him, for he was destined to live through each atrocity that could be inflicted upon a human soul. Battle was the biggest joke, the sickest kind imaginable. Just thinking about it made him tingle with laughter.

Madness infected his entire being and his foes can hear the haunting howls of hysterics. Each chord was pained, was full of endless grief and sorrow. Like one who wanted to cry, scream, or do anything else but had no other option. It was all so mind numbingly hysterical, and Jensen roared to Seth as the two found a moment’s pause in the fight.

“You never stop do you,” Seth whispered more to himself than to the immortal, but he had heard those words, and laughed all the harder for it. He bent forwards before building up another chorus as he pulled back and lifted a hand to his head to try and calm himself.

“Seth (ha ha), I don’t (hee hee) think you (ho ho) get it!” More mirth escaped his lips as he roared in hatred and joviality in equal measures as insanity spurred him forwards. And even in the depths of the ocean, Jensen’s laughter echoed throughout the battle arena eclipsing the sound of the screaming watchers.

“I COULD LAUGH TIL I DIE!”