Rtron vs. Kodkod: Hell is the Beginning

[Kodkod]

Hell is just the Beginning





Screams echoed throughout the streets as feet stomped on the cobble stone road that divided each side of the town in half. It was small, and unprepared for the catastrophic event that had just began minutes prior. Blood seeped from the buildings and slipped into the wet streets, men and women running frantically unable to figure out where to hide or where to run too. No where was safe, everywhere was dangerous, they were panicking with no hope in sight. It was a crisp cold night with each breath piercing the lungs, a light fog lingered throughout the streets with the full moon shining bright, its light reflecting off the fog causing visibility to be shortened. Although the night was beautiful, the town was no longer attractive. People slayed in the homes, and out across the side of the cobble stone. These types of attacks were the signs of a young vampire, for young ones bite for pleasure, and feeling, it is a intimate sensation that the young vampire recieves when draining the life source from another individual. It is the teenage version of a sexual peak. Constantly wanting more, and never getting enough, even when they have satisfied the thirst. Young vampires, tend to be wreckless and stubborn, it is their nature and all most go through the growing pains, it is what prepares them for self-control in the future. Tristan heard all of this by his father, it was reason his father did not wish to have him join this kind of life. He knew that when Tristan turned it would drive him away from the castle for sometime in search of strengthening himself as a vampire and going overboard on the sensation with the need to bite.

It was ok, it was what he wanted, and it is what he recieved. Tristan would now fill what his body desired and then show his father that he too would be strong like him one day. Possessing abilities that would match and not disappoint. However the only way to grow stronger is to prey on the living. The stronger the individual, the more Tristan would get out of the kill.

Heavy breathing, a man looked left to right, up and down, before finally making the decision to sprint for the gates. There was no other option, it was either get out of town or die within it. He sprinted, his lungs burning, feet wobbling due to fatigue, hair was wet as was the rest of his body from perspirating from the fear. Eyes were large and locked on to the towns gate. Only about 40 yards and he was outside,it'd be a ways before he would reach another town for refuge but if he did, he'd have one hell of a tale to tell. His hands were full of mud and muck as his finger nails seemed like they were dipped in dirt. It caked his face, and his garments, along with the stains of blood from the fellow town members. The horror that was witnessed on this night, would take years to come to turns with but all hopes and dreams were shattered as pressure was felt on his shoulders creating him to collapse to the floor and fall face first on to the street. He winced in pain as his body ached, he tried getting up but was shoved back to the surface. Unable to muster any sort of strength to bring himself to his knees at least, until he was jolted upwards and his neck was forced to the side by a large cold hand.

"You shall dream a thousand dreams, leaving this world with the feeling of pleasure, the fear will leave your body, and your body will allow your mind to set you free into that place you call Heaven."

The man heard these words and wanted to yell, he wanted to fight back, instead two sharp needles were felt pinching their way inside him. His heart raced, his eyes dialted, and his body began to feel warm. It was a sensation never felt before, it was peaceful, and exciting all at the sametime. Only to soon feel his eye lids drape over his pupils and darkness filled the rest of the vision.

The pathetic man was released and his cold, lifeless body dropped to the surface. Tristan rose from his knees and stood upright as blood trickled from his red lips. Tristan slid his right arm across his mouth to wipe the evidence away, his feeding was finally over. The town itself was nothing but a shell of what it use to be fifteen to twenty minutes ago. Death swept by and Tristan had a smile crack on the right side of his face. It was time to make his leave, walking away from the gate instead of toward it, he could feel another presence. Someone was heading toward this way, which caused Tristan to become curious. He no longer needed to feed, but once again a young vampire is wreckless...he swiftly got off the streets and perched up into a dark elevated spot between two buildings. He wanted to observe who was coming and decide whether or not it would be worth the effort.

[Rtron]

Gregor walked to the towns gates, wary. Death was in the air. He could feel it. At first, the screams he'd heard could have been passed off as a wild celebration. When he had gotten closer, it was deathly silent, and Gregor's intuition, honed by years of military service, screamed at him to leave something was wrong, very wrong. Gregor ignored it and opened the gates, noting uneasily that there were no guards, which there should have been for a town this size, and the gate was unlocked. The sight that greeted him was indescribable.

"By the Gods..." Gregor breathed as he looked upon the scene.Blood was every, as were the slain. Blood was practically dripping from the walls, and corpses were strewn everywhere, as if someone had slain them then tossed their bodies away. The closest one was a man, lying dead in the street, a few feet away from the gates. Apparently, he made a run for it. Gregor walked over and crouched down next to the corpse, flipping it over to look for the killing wound. What he saw he'd only heard in story books. It looked like two teeth marks on the mans neck, apparently where he had been drained of all of his blood. A vampire? Impossible, those only exist in story books. Gregor berated himself for even thinking the thought.

All the same though, when he got up, he unsheathed his sword, and brought his shield up to the ready position, before heading deeper into the town, his armored foot steps echoing in the emptiness of the town. Whomever had slain these people were not going to kill him. If they tried, they'd be in for a nasty surprise. He was no defenseless civilian to be slain while running. Gregor made his way to the biggest building in sight, what appeared to be the town hall, to get a vantage point of the city to check if there was anywhere where survivors would be holed up.

[Kodkod]

Lets Play

Tristan kept to the shadows as a armored man entered the gates to hell. His demise, his end of the road, yes another victim walking into death's dungeon. Odd though, the thought of a man seeing the dead corpses around and still pushing forth to investigate what exactly did it. Stupid? or Brave? Was there really a difference? Tristan observed, he watched, and waited, spotting him looking over the dead individual that Tristan had slayed moments earlier. It was here that the armored man pulled out his sword and preemptively switched to a more defensive pose than when he first walked into the town. Possibly realizing the situation was a little more than what was first thought. His direction was toward the town hall, it would be a walk, but it was a smart choice in deciding on a place to start with figuring out what had happened. Tristan would be the one to save the man some time,

Tristan emerged from the shadows around the corner of one of the buildings and out in front of the armored man. Tristan felt this could be an actual challenge to him, not just some want to be bar warrior, but an actual warrior who had seen combat before, dealt with blood and the scenes that follow with it. Tristan hoped this individual could pose a threat to his very existence. He itched for a challenge, and because the armored man still dove deeper into the town even after all of the warnings, it would be disrespectful on Tristan's part to ambush him. Instead he would greet this man with respect, and acknowledge what was to unfold. Tristan walked to the center of the road and turned toward the armored man, his hands at his side.

"Well hello, hello, welcome to the most beautiful town in all the land, where people look so happy."

Tristan pointed to the right of where he stood at a dead body that lay across a bench outside of the tavern. In fact he didn't have to point at all to really get his point across considering that blood, and bodies now ornamented the entire town as if it were putting on some kind of Halloween festivity. Tristan had great articulation when it came to speaking, his voice was smooth, but masculine, young, but strong, arrogant, but witty.

"And you look so sad? lets make you happy shall we?"

Tristan reached for his scythe and slowly pulled it out from its location from which it was stationed on his back. Gripping it with both hands firmly on the handle and then pointing it down range at his opponent. Allowing for the end to drop to the ground and rest on the cobble stone while he still held the handle. His eyes glared deep into the helmet of his adversary, his left fang was visible over his lip. The fun was just about to begin, and this time Tristan may actually break a sweat.

[Rtron]

Gregor halted when a young man came out to stand in front of him in the street. His words making it clear that he had slain these people, and the canine that showed over the left side of his lip indicated further proof that he was a vampire. Foolishness! Well, maybe not. I've heard stories about this strange land... Gregor thought as he leveled his blade at the young man. "I take it from your words that you were the one who committed this atrocity, boy?" Gregor said his voice level, neutral, monotone. Then he added, "And just who in the name of hell may you be?" Gregor widened his stance, so as to better take a charge in case the boy charged, as the arrogance in his voice indicated he might. The only real problem will be getting pas the scythe. He'd better not try and use it to pull my shield off. Other wise he might be fighting with just a stick.

[Kodkod]

"I take it from your words that you were the one who committed this atrocity, boy?"

Tristan looked around at the town that had befallen before him, once a quaint place for those of the journeying type to come and relax, grab a drink at the local pub, fall asleep or indulge in some nightly activities in the lodge. It was a town the same as any other, except on this night they were met by a monster, a fiend, a shadow of darkness. They were met by none other than a young man with some beautiful gifts. Tristan chuckled when he processed the question, it wasn't an atrocity by any means, more of artwork, it was hard work, the nerve of the armored man spewing out nonsense from his vocal chords were not accepted by Tristan but before he could retort to the such close-minded comment, he was addressed with another question.

"And just who in the name of hell may you be?"

Tristan smiled slightly, hell, well he was pretty close with hell in terms of what you read in the books that tried describing it. He wasn't hell though, he was more toward the side of "Death" he was the Reaper of souls and he wanted to collect as many as he could. Tristan lowered his head just a tad as the reflection of the moon casted a shadow just on the top portion of his face.

"My name you ask, it is Tristan Alucard Ba'al, I am the heir to the Ba'al family bloodline. Son of Aramastus Vasile Ba'al the close descendant of none other than Vlad the Impaler, or in other words, "Dracula", the vampire king. I am responsible for what you see before you, but to call it an atrocity...well thats just now rude, the rudeness will have to be corrected and you my sir will have to reevaluate your situation, you are no longer in a position to ask questions, this is my sanctum, my nest for the night, you've walked in it, so show the respect one deserves when walking into another home."

Tristan rose his head to again meet the helmet, he peered right into the openings of his foes helmet, he could distinctly see the eyes and everything they had to offer. It was time to finally begin the show, the skin of Tristan was itching beneath the surface, it was time to feed that itch.

He rose his scythe in the air, and with great speed and verocity he took off shooting down range at his target. Blazing full speed before becoming in blade reach, as he came within blade reach he took a right step with his right leg placing him to the left outside leg of his victim. Tristan would apply pressure to adjust his direction on to his right foot shooting him diagnolly across his opponent and ultimately ending up on the outside of his opponent's right leg, still keeping him at distance from his opponent's sword or shield. The blade would be swung in front of Tristan and at his victim from a horizontal angle with the point of the scythe targeting the side of the left torso. The power behind this strike would be immense from the momentum of the movements, he would see if his foe could handle the blow or already fall to Tristan's feet.

[Rtron]

The boy spoke of how the atrocity he'd committed was not only not an atrocity, but rude to call it so. He also claimed to be descended from Vlad the Impaler. Gregor lifted his shield up, not responding, and waited for the expected charge. He did not have to wait long. The boy moved with blinding speed, racing towards Gregor. Gregor kept his eyes on his scythe, waiting for the attack. The boy did a fancy maneuver and swung his scythe. Gregor bent his legs to take the blow better, and tilted his shield forward and to the right, to make sure he caught the wooden part on the bladed part of his shield. A risky maneuver, to be sure, but he was fairly certain that, with the combined stopping power of his shield and his own resistance that the boy should not know about, he could take the hit. When the scythe landed it hit him. But with the combined power of his armor and skin, it did nothing but most likely leave a bruise.

Gregor now had the scythe trapped between the bladed parts of his shield. With out further adue, Gregor twisted his shield suddenly, designing it to cut off the scythes top part. If it worked, he'd back off and wait for the boys next move. If it failed, he'd lunge forward, while keeping his shield in the ready position to collect any blows, and attempt to sever the boys head from his shoulders.

[Kodkod]

Death is Inevitable for the likes of you...

This armored man shifted his body to take the hit of the scythe that now struck his side, exactly where Tristan intended it too but in this case it did not show signs of actually penetrating or rendering the armored man incapacitated from the fight. In fact it didn't seem to put forth any sort of affect on the man except maybe a bruise, which was astonishing due to the fact that a blade just smacked him. Instead the armored man progressed with actions even after being struck, by twisting his shield which ultimately scissored the wooden part of the staff in to two pieces. Slivers of wood careened across the town that still held the souls of the deceased that were slain and strewn across the streets, by Tristan's hands and teeth. Tristan was still holding on to his end that was broke with a jagged edge, instead of stopping or reassessing the situation he pressed on, he wanted to give his opponent no time to think, no time to attack. Tristan still ended up in the spot he was designated too, he took advantage of what the armored man had transformed his side of the scythe into, a stake of sorts. Tristan now wielded a stake with jagged wooden ends and with this new weapon slipped the wooden stake across his body showing his elbow at his foe. He then released the stake with such raw vampiric strength and power which hopefully from the torque of the body and pivot the energy created would cause the stake to fly at enough speed and velocity to penetrate its target. This stake was targeting the other side from which the scythe blade contacted prior, but it was to hit the large shoulders of his armored foe. The upper body was a large target and contact was hoping to be made, especially since his enemy was already focusing on blocking his previous attack by rotating the shield in breaking the wood. It would be pretty impressive to take a hit, act on that hit, and dodge a missile within seconds of each other. None the less, Tristan had seen such artful demonstration before.

Tristan was set on keeping the pressure, after throwing the stake at the armored man's shoulder, he would then dash forward unsheathing his sword from his back. The stake would reach the armored man first with Tristan closing in seconds after. Tristan would engage his enemy from the side where he was positioned. Upon reaching a distance to where his blade could reach he would drop to one knee lowering his level and slicing horizontally at the knee caps of his enemy. This attack would take out both legs with one slice and ultimately end the fight. However could he land the blow he was hoping for, or would he end up again a little disappointed as he was his first strike.

Everything Tristan was taught, was coming together, he spent years studying how to manipulate weapons, using the strength his father gave him, and the art of sword play as well as an assortment of other deadly weapons. This was his time to show his father what he was made of, an opponent who was accustom to war, a veteran among veterans. A battle worth bleeding over, it had been these kinds of duels Tristan had been searching for. Tonight would be a night of art, to dance, and play with the man across from him to see who was the better individual. Who was the strongest mentally, who was the most prepared. On this night blood was to be spilt, it would not be Tristan's, it would not be the blood of his lineage. No, it would be the blood of his enemy that would be feasted on tonight. They call us Monsters, Bloodsuckers, Vampires, Creatures of the night, but in reality we are the ones destined to truly live on this world above the human race and the like that follow them. Tristan would be the one to change what history has taught him about his kind. One small step at a time...

[Rtron]

Gregor waited for the boy to make his move. He did not have to wait long. In a blur, the boy threw his ruined weapon at Gregor, then rushed forward to try and slice his legs from beneath him. Gregor ignored the stake, more concerned about the sword. The stake smacked into Gregor, much harder than a normal mans throw. It stuck there, Not considerably deep, but it did break the skin. Gregor brought his sword down to block the blade slice, thanking his lucky stars that he'd made the blade well. With a loud clang, the blades met. Gregor acted quickly, ripping out the stake with his shield and before doing a jab at the boy with it. The jab wasn't made with his fist, though, it was made with his shield. Gregor turned the bladed part towards the mans neck and head, and then, with the speed of practice and strength, sent it downwards. If it connected, it would do serious damage. If it failed Gregor would follow up, if the boy was within range, with a knee to the face, if the boy was out of range, he'd go in for the decapitation kill.

[Kodkod]

Right under your nose

This armored man took the stake to the shoulder again with impact that seemed to faulter as the scythe before it. How disappointing, but it was still damage, and damage done to the shoulder would eventually fatigue it from even being able to hold up anything after awhile. Well, for a normal man, but this warrior was already showing his true colors that he was of no ordinary stature. This man had something underneath his sleeve so to say, something Tristan could no pin-point and had no time to even indulge in pondering what it could be. Instead he had to worry about his own head, as his sword contacted the armored man's blade from blocking his slash to the knees. The blades sparked once meeting one another, the noise of steel pierced through the thin, cold air of the night. The fog was getting increasingly heavier as time passed on through the night. His enemy reached up for the stake and ripped it out with no thought or care to his own body. Blood came from out of the wound, but not enough to really show Tristan he had an upperhand, it just showed that skin was broken and the impalement did dig itself under the flesh.

Reaching for the stake allowed Tristan to gather his footing while still below level of his enemy, and he immediately watched the shoulders as he was trained to do too see the jab of the shield with the blade coming forth at his head. Twisting his sword so the blade was facing up instead of sideways. This would allow the blade to slide and glide across his enemies blade, he rolled toward his right shoulder keeping his hands extended with the blade and having it follow through in direction of his roll. The shield's blades had just grazed the left side of his back but didn't stop the roll from being performed. This new position he would find himself in was,now adjacent and behind his target. Tristan would roll, and pivot his body as he stood up with the momentum of the roll, quickly slashing down at his foes left side. Tristan rose his left leg, knee high, and with his whole foot kicked forward engaging his hips to gather as much power and speed for the kick as he could. His foot targeted the scythe blade that was still wedged in the man's armor from before but didn't pierce. Hopefully this kick had enough strength to finish what the scythe had started and was intended to do prior, stab into the ribs of his enemy.

If successful, Tristan would already be a slight step back from the kick and he would place himself in a more defensive position and observe if the attack had any real impact to his enemies health, unlike the previous two attacks.

[Rtron]

Gregor cursed as the boy danced around again. Following him, Gregor blocked the sword slash with his sword and was smart, or well trained , or both, enough to keep his shield up on his left side. The boys foot kicked into his shield, sending Gregor back a step, pushing in the scythe a little deeper. Enough to break skin hear as well, though no more than a thorn bush would. Gregor used his shield, while keeping an eye on the boy, to knock the blade loose. Then, he crouched into a defensive position, waiting for the boy. He did not have enough faith in his own speed to go on the offensive yet. Just a little bit more knowledge of how the boy fought and he should be able to get him down.