[Open] I am Nosdyn.

(Seeking one combatant, level doesn't matter I'm trying to test a certain thing. So first come to the fite is welcome!!!)

Nosdyn studied the combat chamber.

He'd already gone through the song and dance with the monks. His eyes opened once the battle arena manifested, as per his specifications. He was on a beach, somewhere on Althanas. The waves of the ocean moving against the shoreline in a specific pattern. The ebb and flow of life. The sun was cast overhead, shining brightly. There were few clouds, and it was hot. The temperature was tropical in nature. Nosdyn looked up at the sky for a moment or three, then, removed his leather vest. He took off his pack and cloak and waited. His mind lost in deep thought. He made sure earlier, that the monk understood what he was after.

There was no thrill, merely the carnage and pleasure of combat. He was out to kill someone. It didn't matter who they were, what part of their broken world they hailed from. It only mattered that he fought. Nosdyn was a soldier, first and foremost. He was fighting for Haidai...once upon a time. Now he fought for himself...a greedy sellsword only interested in earning coin for himself. As Nosdyn stood there, he felt the afternoon breeze caress his blue flesh. His body had many tribal markings. They were not tattoos, but rather marks of his tribe. The mark of a DEMON. Nosdyn carefully considered the purpose of The Citadel.

It was to appease the ancient Thayne of War. Live by the sword...die by the sword. That was the code that Nosdyn knew. Nosdyn listened to the sea birds, and other animals of the area going about their business. As was the way of natural things. Nosdyn hated it all. He'd chosen a beautiful arena for a purpose, he wanted to take his frustrations with everything out on some hapless victim. He was there to prove his worth as a warrior. As he stood there, muscles bristling with raw strength, he removed his weapon. The long haft of his weapon felt comforting to the demon. He held it in his neutral stance, pointing the tip of the weapon downwards at a forty-five degree angle. It was basic at the ready stance. As he stood there he waited, planned, and thought back to his recent adventures.

As he stood there memories came flooding back to him. The sound of the waves made him uncomfortable. He was trying to concentrate through all of the noise of the beach. He reminded himself of who he was. A demon of Haidia. There is nothing to prove...I merely want to make myself stronger. That's why I am challenging the surface world's finest warriors. Let us see what they are made of. And who answers the call to combat. Nosdyn narrowed his eyes and waited for his opponent to arrive...

...There would be hell to pay.

The days had been long and tiring. Being a father was never a life that Vaeron had never sought for himself, or intended to have. However, destiny had struck, and it had struck fast, twisting his world with guilt conscience and paternal love as a weapon, holding up the darling young girl Celandine as a victory.

Yet he was still not entirely dragged into the world of fatherhood. Still, the warrior, and once mage, fought against his newer duties as regent for the Fortress of the Golden Lily whilst the Matriarch herself was gone. Bravely he strove to not be entirely enveloped into the role he had agreed to, go give in to that enterprise. However ... however ... he made the decision to stay with Philomel, not the other way around. He had made the symbolic gesture of helping her to ultimately escape that ship's prison all that time ago, and then assisted her in taking over that ship. They had sailed the waters for a thousand leagues, and a thousand leagues more, coming to rest on shores just like this one that he now strode.

Shirtless, with a simple bow in hand, and a long dagger at his hip. No arrows, however, and no armour. Just his lonely soul. His feet also were bare, and left long footprints in the white sand as he walked along the line of the waters. Almost to the exact tick of a clock did the waves wash in and out, never touching his skin but daring him to step closer.

Yet he was strong, and would not give into its temptations - just like he was yielding against adopting the full responsibilities of his position.

Behind him, following at several paces back, was a huge black stallion. He was bridle-less and saddle-less, yet still wandered after the human like he had no one else to be with. Billows of steam came out of the horse's nostrils, filling the air between them. It spiralled with magnificence in the brilliant summer light, sparking revolution in the atmosphere. The clouds did not bear anything to his breath, and the sea's strength nothing to the animal's muscles.

Over his shoulder Vaeron looked to glance at his horse. A small quirk came at his upper cheek, but beyond that nothing showed the fact he was going to smile. Minus, of course, that of the glint in his eye and the mysterious past of his light, but vivid scars that were emblazoned on his face. However, then he paused, and his head tilted past the bulk of the horse to see ...

A man. Standing further up the shore, and just beyond them. It seemed that the man and beast had completely wandered passed him. Clearly, it was their valiant competitor. Here, in the Citadel.

The one place to get away from all fears and worries of life.

Slowly Vaeron raised a hand in greeting.

Waves crashed against the shoreline.

Birds moved to and from the beach. They ca-cawed in unison driving Nosdyn's headache up a few notches. He didn't like such serene and isolated places...bu the was forcing himself to combat a particular weakness of his. Wind came in from the south, it carried with it a sea-salt scent that Nosdyn was never used to. He didn't like the ocean. But he knew with his skirmishing tactics he had to be prepared to fight in any environment. Under any condition, under any type of stress. That was the whole point of the current training he was putting himself under.

He noticed the Human adventurer enter the combat arena, and the gate to The Citadel's halls faded out of existence a moment later. They were on their own for the duration of the match. Nosdyn looked up at the bright sky for a moment...not a single cloud was present. The sun was shining brightly overcast above them. Nosdyn turned his attention back to the young fellow before him. The guy waved towards Nosdyn, a basic warrior's respect. Nostyn was not sure why...but he recalled remembering that he liked the fellow before him. The Citadel Leagues' full of brigands and psychos. Very few of them ever show their propers towards a fellow warrior. I must give equal treatment back to this fellow. The wave from the stranger put Nosdyn a little bit at ease.

He was not sure why, but the tension he'd felt up until that point lessened ever so subtly. He could relax and just let himself train against the lad before him. Nosdyn was already barefoot, and wore only his pants to cover him. His gear was by a small camp he'd set up further up the beach. Nosdyn walked forward and stopped several feet directly in front of Vaeron. Nosdyn once again nodded casually towards that fellow. Nosdyn's shirt was left tucked away back at his camp, and his upper body was skyclad. His pectoral muscles bulged with sinewy definition as he stood there breathing.

A mighty demon's heart pulsed with life in that creature's chest. However something else lurked there as well. The events at Stonevale ahd altered the demon and put him on a evolutionary path that would one day change the course of history itself. Nosdyn looked up at the blue sky for a moment. Then back to Vaeron. He kept his sword activated, holding it a forty-five degree angle loosely. The energy sparked off the blade as he stood there, the energy creating a shimmering effect in the intense heat.

The blade gave off a particular sound. It was not the humming noise of other beam style swords and weapons. NO. This particular weapon gave off the sound of a lot of screaming souls. To further compound Nosdyn's plight, his own body gave off a sort of panic aura. He wasn't consciously controlling it at that moment, but it was an effect that was always active. He was trying to learn to control it, but his mantle of fear would always be a thing he had to deal with. It was a both a boon and an affliction. Nosdyn stood a few paces ahead from Vaeron at that point. He looked at the lad, studying the fellow.

Nosdyn called out towards Vaeron. "We can begin when you're ready."

And at that point it started to all go south...

Vaeron found himself grunting with amusement at the way the demon lowered himself into a fighting stance and held his sword out ready to slash and bleed. Personally, he was more there remember the warrior he truly was at heart, show himself that he still had the capabilities of holding his own in battle. This peculiar dark-skin being, however, with the declaring voice and trend towards the dramatic, seemed to be more there to reveal to the world his power.

Pulling his eyes away from the demon Vaeron nodded once, accepting the challenge. Rolling back his shoulders he began to turn his back, hoisting the bow up in the air. Chin jutting into the air he let the sun glint brilliantly off his scar-born cheeks, before he used his spare arm to wrap around the neck of his horse. Then, with a hefty kick of his legs he swung around, up and over so that he sat on Megladon's back, the horse himself suddenly lifitng his nose and ears, eyes alert as he felt the awareness of soon to be war.

"My name is Rameses Vaeron," the human introduced himself, pulling the now now around to the front and testing the string. "And this is Megladon. We greet you in spirit."

A wave crashed against the shore. A seagull roared their desire for blood. A cloudless wind howled, as the two warriors faced off against each other.

Megladon snorted and pawed the ground. Slowly Vaeron raised his bow, diggining in his knees to the horse's sides and preparing to ride and guide purely by the pressure of them. Drawing in a long breath he sought and tapped into that well of power that was in him. That had once been of Earlon, but was now of Drys.

As he drew back the bow a silvery glow of energy began to form between his first two fingers, that held the string as a claw. The point of it was pointed directly at Nosdyn's heart.

An eternity passed as the silver bolt of power drew to its full capacity, signalling an arrow as strong as steel. He would shoot, then immediately cast another, as he rode with hasty fury.

"I hope ... You fight well," he shouted -

And then kicked Megladon's flanks. At the same time his fingers loosed, and all was now different.

Nosdyn observed the horse riding archer for a few moments whilst the fellow got serious.

Shit! He's an archer. When Vareon introduced himself and everything, the man got serious and the battle got real. Nosdyn felt the weight of the sun beating down on his shoulders as he stood there for a moment. A trickle of sweat flowed down the side of his skull. Nosdyn noticed the intricate quality of the man's bow. This reminds me of that time...no time to get nostalgic though. Nosdyn was never built for speed and agility, he left that for the speedsters of Althans.

Nosdyn was a proud demon though exiled from Tular Plains, he was still a demon and carried their blood in his vessel.

During his time in Stonevale he'd changed and had learned to live at peace with men.

When Vaeron fired the first set of arrows, he saw a flash of light from the steel tip of the arrow. It was the sunlight reflecting light off the metallic peace of that thing. Nosdyn guessed that first strike was intended to be lethal. I've only got one chance at this. Nosdyn's eye twitched at that point. He saw the trajectory of the first arrow arcing down towards him and he figured the first arrow was meant to be either a serious strike or a lethal one. Nosdyn was not fast enough to dodge an arrow or even catch it.

Instead, he would have to decide where it would actually hit him. He's on horse-back that puts me at a drastic disadvantage... Nosdyn thought to himself. As the first arrow moved ever closer, Nosdyn did the only thing he could think of doing. He had to risk it all, he didn't want to be taken out on the first moments of battle by a dirty archer. He raised his arm, his free arm in front of his chest as the arrow came in, it was an instinctive move. Nosdyn flinched when the steel tipped arrow punctured his forearm. It did not push all the way through, it merely buried itself in his arm with considerable force.

Nosdyn was frowning at that point. He noticed that the archer was already firing off several other arrows. Nosdyn made his sure his weapon was activated and he took a wild swing at the next few arrows. He was able to deflect a few of them with his sword, but several more connected with Nosdyn. This is no good, I'm a sitting duck here like this. There was something almost perverse about him being hunted by the archer at that point. Nosdyn gripped his weapon tightly and maneuvered his punctured arm back to a steady position. More arrows were already coming. By the gods, not like this.