Another hallway, cobwebs draped across decrepit chandeliers dangling from the high arched ceiling. The walls and floor were sculpted stone, gray and worn, causing footsteps to echo with a dull thud. Anything disturbed in the ancient Cathedral caused sound to be resounded through the near endless hallways, sometimes for days as it was caught in the vast stillness of the Hallowed Halls. It was an eerie place, to say the least, with near empty corridors only sparsely decorated with stone coffins and oddly discarded weaponry, rusted with age. Such a place a man had no business being in, so dark and gloomy, the air hanging heavy with abandonment. Fortunately, no man had wandered into the near complete darkness, lit only by a few guttering torches hung upon the walls, but rather a creature truly at home in such an unhallowed place.

Adrian’s supernatural eyes drew every detail from his dark surroundings, as he stood there clad in dark leather, hood drawing back his hair from his unnaturally pale face. He was geared for war, the bow slung over his shoulder, the sword and dagger at either hip, the quiver at the small of his back, one in his profession seldom went without the tools of the trade.

This was not his home, though he suspected he knew of one who would reside in such a place, someone whose un-life he would very much like to end. Perhaps that had been what had drawn him to the decrepit Cathedral on his way back from feeding. He had only recently moved to the area, and though he found it unlikely such a place would be inhabited, even by the most monstrous or traditional of his kind, the Vampire was still curious. Should he have chanced upon another Child of the Night, well, he would love to take the time clearing out the old building’s infestation.

Athinar walked blithely along a corridor blithely, sword sheathed. His leather coat hanging loosely around him, ending around the top of his inky black boots, which covered most of his shins. His katana was sheathed, hanging from his belt, and swung at his side. Pushing his jet-black hair to the side with a gloved hand, he studied the corridors with red eyes that seemed to mask something terrible beneath. However, in wandering such a place, one was bound to encounter another being.

The darkness of the torches notwithstanding, Athinar was completely comfortable in the dimness, even if this form couldn't pierce through it entirely. Stepping past an opened, empty coffin, Athinar heard something. The opening of a door, too loud for even distance to mask. It came from... the left? Not entirely sure but still not caring, Athinar went to the left. It didn't matter which direction he took. He could map out the infinite corridors until this form died of starvation, and leave a cool skeleton behind. It'd be pretty metal.

When he reached the door, Athinar, hands in pockets, walked casually forward, and smirked, looking the hooded man over. Whatever he was here for, it involved violence. Sounds fun.

"So, any particular reason for being here?"

Eyes narrowed, centring on approaching footsteps, the form of a tall man rounding a corner who was evidently aware of his presence. All of this he took in before an ordinary man could blink, he turned, left side facing the newcomer, allowing his right hand to stray to his dagger unseen. Should there be one such as him wandering the Cathedral? It seemed unlikely to the Vampire, with one short inhale he had already judged the figure as unusual but certainly not undead. There was an air of confidence in his approach, not cattle certainly, perhaps the prey meant to slay the wolf? Optimistic, to say the least, he should have approached with more caution.

He spoke, a query, nonchalant and unworthy of Adrian’s time, he did not feel like one the Vampire would enjoy draining of life. Still, common courtesy was a necessity if one wished to retain their sanity into undeath.

“And for what reason,
Would a man think it wisest
To question the dead?”

Adrian observed the man’s approach, scant fifteen feet dividing them as he answered in typically obscure form.

"Mainly,
Because I,
have eyes that are red."

Athinar looked over the mysterious man carefully, and noted his exceptionally pale skin, and beleaguered eyes. Snapping his fingers, Athinar pointed at the man, and said, "Oh, you're a vampyr! Not a lich, or anything, I hope." Athinar cleared his throat, and said, "My High Tongue is kinda rusty, but here goes!" Athinar switched to a cold-sounding language, one that made him seem a lot more polite than he actually was.

"So, son of shadow. Why are you in this forsaken place? I am present, because I wish to exterminate things, but how about yourself?"

Athinar unsheathed his adamant katana and grinned. This should be a true test of this form. Stepping into a combat stance, he waited to see what the vampire did.

He smiled at the man’s response, though there was no joy in it and it certainly never reached his hunter’s eyes. They flicked over the approaching form, observing his every move, as his smile turned to a frown of non-understanding. The man’s following words made no sense to him, other than his sudden realisation of Adrian’s nature, a fact which the Vampire noticed gave him no pause. He then drew a sword, and the Vampire prepared to act.

Adrian’s eyes were drawn to the blade, the Katana, a weapon he had been recently reintroduced to. He had some familiarity fighting men equipped with the weapon, in fact a particularly dogged Samurai had sought after the same prey as him, forcing them into contention once or twice. It was unlikely that this man before him was a true Samurai, he did not look like any Japanese the Vampire had ever seen. What then was the likelihood that he followed the code of Bushido? Should Adrian assume he followed the code, and therefore that conflict was now inevitable?

No matter, if caution was to be advised in this case Adrian was happy to go against the grain, so to speak. Without another word the Vampire unleashed his speed like a taut spring, the hand reaching for the handle of his dagger instead diverting to the quiver at his back, his head turned slightly as if considering the man’s words while scratching himself, alert for any movement. In a flash, his left hand shot across his body and pulled the bow from around his shoulder, down the arm that drew an arrow in a simultaneous movement that saw both appendages come together in deadly unison, the projectile was nocked before a man could blink. He was drawing back the bow in his second breath, with twelve feet dividing them still, an easy shot for even a half decent marksman. He paused, and would his foe betray himself and make the first move, revealing his capability as he charged the archer? The string was drawn back, the tension permeating not only the weapon but the corridor and the two men therein, the head of an arrow pointed at another man’s heart.

Athinar didn't bat an eye at the vampyr's lack of comprehension. Apparently, this one was younger, or not from a world that had the Dark Court. Oh well. Didn't matter, as it seemed that as Athinar was willing to get straight to the main event, so was the Vampyr. Athinar's eyes lit up with delight, and his pulse quickened. This was going to be awesome. However, Athinar knew the risks of attacking a Vampyr head-on, and wasn't willing to part with this form just yet. Might as well make the undead work for his victory.

Nostrils flaring, Athinar took a deep breath in, and leaped sideways, into the hallway he just came from. As he did this, he held out a hand, and within half a second, a plane of darkness, shaped like a sword, hovered in the air, vertical, with the blade perpendicular to where the arrow would be. As he landed on his feet, as soon as he had gotten out of sight, he dispelled the sword again, and ran forward, booted feet getting surprisingly good traction against the cobble. Eye on the corner, Athinar leaped behind a stone coffin, so the Vampyr would be forced to close the gap. Readying his sword, he also prepared to leap upwards, and strike.

As Adrian stood there, bow drawn and ready, the arrow primed to pierce his quarry’s heart with lethal force, the last thing he expected was for his opponent to become temporarily insane. The man leapt side wards and backwards, in order to scuttle behind the natural corner in the corridor about twenty feet ahead of the Vampire. He also simultaneously deployed some form of dark blade which seemed incorporeal and reeked of magic to the Nosferatu. Adrian paused, lowering his bow and releasing some of the tension, somewhat bemused as he listened to his foe’s heavy footsteps carrying him down the corridor, followed by a thumping scraping sound he presumed was either the man falling over or jumping down for some reason. Adrian turned his head in confusion, wondering if his entertainment was over already, there was after all a significant danger the crazy man had just fell upon his own sword.

“Why has my arrow,
Brought upon him such distress,
Does he fear death so?”

Adrian’s voice echoed with a sing song quality, accentuating the strangeness of his Eastern European accent. He walked slowly down the corridor, out of sheer habit utilizing his ability to muffle his footsteps, allowing him to move silently. He was alert to any sounds his foe made, after throwing himself to the ground around the corner, as he hugged the far side of the corridor from the corner, which incidentally was to Adrian’s left, he quickly turned, bow once again drawn and primed, ready to fire point blank into his foe if he had revealed himself. However, if he made noise and betrayed movement, Adrian’s caution would prevent him from turning the corner immediately.

"I had the power
of death once in my own hands
I surrendered that, though."
Athinar switched to Czech, one of the most dominant of all Slavic languages, and said,
"I fear not death, child
I am like death to the sheep
however, this can't end now."
He grinned at the Vampyr, who seemed to talk by Haiku. Two could play this game. His knowledge of Czech, Haiku, and Vampyrs would suggest that he was more than he seemed, although he probably had inferred that by the Blade appearing in front of him.

Suddenly getting an idea, Athinar summoned the Blade, and sliced through the stone coffin, causing it to slide to one side, (cut in half,) and land in the middle of the corridor with a loud bang! Flipping the coffin lid up with his foot, Athinar kicked it forward. It was extremely uncomfortable to do, but Athinar found the struggle, the experience, exhilarating. The desiccated remains of some centuries-dead man remained in the bottom of the coffin, which Athinar then grabbed, leaving the blade hovering in the air in front of him, and broke the skeleton over his knee, and then threw the halves of the old corpse down the hallway at the Vampyr. This all might seem to be craziness, but Athinar was simply trying to hinder the Vampire's movement, so he wouldn't be able to use that inhuman speed characteristic of the Nosferatu.

Spinning around, and grabbing the Blade, Athinar fled deeper into the Hallowed Halls, running with an insane grin on his face. This. Was. Fun.

This man is genuinely insane, how interesting. It seems also he has picked up on my little game, though he once again guesses wrong as to my original language. Adrian thought to himself, having only a rudimentary knowledge of Slovak which allowed him to somewhat comprehend the man’s words.

Adrian skirted the corner to find the man in the midst of breaking an old corpse in two, after apparently slicing through stone with his sword and removing the heavy lid. He considered for a moment then loosing an arrow through his eyeball, at such a distance of maybe fifteen feet the shot would have been relatively easy. However, as of yet his insane foe had not actually launched any form of assault on the Vampire, and Adrian was not particularly hungry, so toying with the lunatic to squeeze all the entertainment he could from him seemed a more appropriate course of action.

It became apparent what he intended to do when he was forced to undertake the herculean effort of throwing two halves of a, albeit dry and aged, body fifteen feet towards him. Such an act was not something you could carry out nonchalantly with a flick of ones wrist, so Adrian had the full view of his opponent thrusting all his strength into what seemed to him a completely pointless act. Most of the corpse, brittle and dry with age and damaged by the rough disturbance, fell apart before it even reached the Vampire. Assuming of course that the man intended this to be a distraction for a closing charge into sword-range, Adrian neatly side-stepped the grotesque projectile, preparing his bow to break his opponent’s reckless charge. His eyes widened in amusement and surprise as instead the man used the opportunity to run further down the corridor.

This man is genuinely insane.

Athinar grinned as he turned the corner, and then slid back, readying to strike as soon as the Vampyr came after him. Dispelling the Blade, he grabbed the katana's hand-and-a-half hilt with two hands, and then prepared himself for the unnatural quickness of the Vampyr. This creature would be fast, maybe two, three times human speed, so even with him wrecking the hallway behind, he should be careful.

Listen to myself, planning and stuff! It's been a while since I've had to seriously think about a foe's capabilities! Maybe I should use this form more often.

As soon as the undead humanoid came into Athinar's vision, with even the slightest flicker of movement, Athinar would perform a quick diagonal high cut from above his right shoulder to even with his hip. No matter if the Vampire dodged, the adamant blade would cut through to the wall, sinking an inch into the ancient stones.

If he blocked with a sword, or dagger, Athinar would let the blade rebound, and hop backwards, standing in a stance that allowed him to deflect blows quicker and easier, sword held in a middle guard that could transfer into a high guard or a low guard with a flick of the wrist.

Once again he was faced with his opponent’s fleeing back, this time after pointlessly desecrating a perfectly good corpse and leaving it strewn across the corridor. Adrian tutted softly to himself and then turned his head to listen carefully to each of his foe’s footsteps, paying special attention when he fled round the corner out of sight.

No more footsteps.

So, this time he had actually deemed it wise to lay an ambush on the corner, perhaps a pointless exercise after Adrian could have filled him full of arrows two or three times prior, but still a step in the right direction. The Vampire was unsure really why the sword-wielder was so determined to run him around and then try and kill him, certainly the thought flickered through his mind that he could just turn and walk off now, leaving the man waiting for a long time to spring his trap. The thought actually amused him a little, and he toyed with it for some time as he slowly walked towards the corner, unconsciously muffling his footsteps to make not an inkling of sound for his foe to use against him as he had just done. In all likelihood the man would wait until Adrian was within sword-range and then pounce out, slashing at him with that sharp blade of his, that was all it was really good for after all. Depending on how good he was, the blade could prove lethal even to a Vampire, so approaching his killing range was probably unwise.

Then again, completely aware of the incoming assault and with a drawn bow, Adrian was fairly confident he could end the man the moment he broke from cover, while also being swift enough of foot to avoid the sweep of the fairly average length blade. Decisions, decisions.

The corridor turned to his right, so hugging the left wall to give himself suitable space the Vampire approached, nearing the point where he was certain the man would burst from cover and strike at him. He was not to be disappointed, raising his bow as he stepped into vision range he caught a flurry of activity and hopped back one step, coupled with his precautionary action leaving him far out of range of the swiftly descending sword. His opponent might have been able to hit him if he had brought a more suitable weapon, but a two-handed sword with such average length was not the most effective of swords.

His bow raised as his foe came out of cover, slashing downwards, he stood with his drawn arrow pointing at near point-blank range at his foe’s upper torso, and his head turned in amusement. Would his opponent recognise he had lost before the battle had really begun? The arrow lay between them, at far shorter range, betraying Adrian’s ability to have ended the fight.

Athinar grinned, even though the Vampyr, by all accounts, had him in position to end the battle right then. Letting go of the sword, and leaving it in the wall, Athinar clapped slowly, shaking his head.

"It does seem that you
have cornered me, Childe of Dark.
Not good enough, though."

As he said this, the Blade of the Void appeared in empty air beside where the arrow would be, and swinging it with an infinitesimal flick of his wrist, he hopefully severed it in two. Making it slash downward, Athinar hoped the Blade would cut through the bow, or at least the strings. It wouldn't do to kill the Vampyr now, would it? Let's have some fun, though.

Yanking the katana out of the wall, Athinar kept the Blade slashing, until he slowed it down, and kept it floating horizontally between the Nosferatu and himself. Staring at the Vampyr above the edge of the incorporeal sword, Athinar's red eyes glittered with amusement. He wouldn't attack with the Blade now, because it wouldn't be fun. However, he did need to get rid of the bow, if it was still intact.

With a slick, smooth voice, that of an otherworldly being, Athinar asked, "Young Vampyr, what is your name? I would know who I fight. Mine is Athinar."

Adrian had no reason to suspect he was in any danger, save for his opponent’s own warning remark. Not good enough? His blade out of his hands what threat could he pose, assuming this wasn’t another aspect of his insanity. Adrian’s mind worked on overdrive from the moment he heard those words.

If not for his opponent’s cockiness, Adrian would probably have been relaxed and confident, unable to react in time to the sudden appearance of the blade. However, thinking through all he had seen of his foe he had remembered the same blade appearing from no-where just a few moments prior. Obviously his enemy had magical abilities he was unfamiliar with, and they could post a great threat.

Adrian threw his bow to his left-side just before the sword erupted, though he had no idea it was going to save his ranged weapon from a sudden magical assault. Rather, he needed his left hand free to project a spell of his own in counter, Silence, the ability which prevented his opponent from using magic or talking for a short period of time.

He launched the darting green arrow of his spell at his foe’s midsection as the sword appeared, with the flight speed of an arrow it would easily reach him before any human could move considering the distance between them, and once it did his enemy would be neither able to talk or use magic for a few seconds at most. Adrian planned to exploit this ruthlessly, arrow in hand like a dagger he prepared to pounce as the sword disappeared and his magic impacted on his foe, though he would have to abandon his plan if his opponent managed the impossible and avoided the spell.

Athinar's grin widened even more, as he missed. The Vampyr was above this body's ability level. Magnificent. Pupils dilating, and nostrils flaring, the Void Lord turned flesh saw the magical bolt approach him. It didn't seem to be damaging, but rather, a spell that would mildly inconvenience him. Still, probably better to not let it hit him.

Arcane energy surging up from deep within, Athinar spoke an ancient Word, and saw the green bolt slow down, as his perception of time caught up with his physical capabilities. The air around him smelled like ozone, after a lightning bolt, and there was a brief flash of light in a nimbus around him, (not blinding,) before the spell took affect. He was now, effectively, superhuman.

Sidestepping the spell, and allowing it to splash into the wall at the far end of the corridor, Athinar, rather than grab the sword, or dispel the Blade of the Void, which was still hanging in the air, ducked down, under the assumed angle of attack, and, lifting up, aimed a haymaker at the Vampire's chin. It wouldn't do much damage, but hopefully, it would surprise him, and cause him to get stunned.

He’s faster now, some form of magic, interesting.

His spell failing Adrian chose not to lunge past the magical sword, instead stepping back on his right foot as his occupied hand dropped to the sword on his left hip, relinquishing the hold on the arrow as it sought a more appropriate weapon. His enemy would learn not to overestimate himself, if he believed he could master the Vampire in close quarters with his bare hands he would be sorely mistaken.

Death Bringer, Adrian’s somewhat melodramatically named Viking shortsword swung from its sheath in a vicious arc that set its path straight at his approaching enemy’s torso. Though he had made the precaution to approach in a low stance, it would ultimately serve him poorly as Adrian’s own weapon was drawn from low at his hip. Slashing through the air at an angle the razor sharp edge would likely pass through the man’s right arm and mid-torso, breaking bone and shearing flesh. If it had been a longer weapon his enemy might have been right to charge him, but the shortsword excelled at that range just beyond that of bare handed and dagger fighting.

Athinar's eyes widened, and the Vampyr's black sword sliced through his arm, shearing flesh and bone. The blood that fell was glowing an obsidian color, and dripped slowly in a black ooze, instead of gushing out in a red spray. The pain was wonderful, and one who might have seen the incident might have viewed Athinar as a sadomasochist. However, he would not let it end here. As the blade first bit into his arm, Athinar caused the Blade of the Void to disappear. As it finished slicing through his arm, it reappeared, right alongside his body, directly in the path of the black sword.

Wasting no time, nor energy on speaking, Athinar immediately flung himself forward, as the blade appeared, grabbing at the Vampyr's throat, hands outstretched like a claw. While this was happening, his eyes began to glow red, and an ebon aura surrounded him. However, this had no impact whatsoever, (aside from adding some lovely mood lighting.)

Adrian’s sword bit into the man’s arm and sheared it with little effort, the extreme physical power of the Vampire seeing the sharp edge through its target. What he couldn’t have foreseen was how his enemy did not react anywhere close to how he should have after suffering such a grievous wound, and so he was not ready to utilize his speed and maintain a safe distance. As his sword was parried by another suddenly materialised weapon he dragged it backwards reflexively and raised his left arm to defend himself from his foe’s outstretched hand.

There was some sort of aura emanating from the badly wounded man, but the Vampire had little time to rationalise this as he barrelled into him, knocking him back a step as his hand closed around his throat. Why he had chosen to attack Adrian’s throat he did not know, unless he was going to severe it such an assault was a little pointless to an Undead like himself, who was not reliant on breath. Unperturbed by the choke, he manoeuvred the blade he had dragged backwards to his right hip into a piercing position and launched it forward, while simultaneously drawing his left arm up and around in a revolution that would see the grip at his throat broken.

He plunged the shortsword forward with all his might, aiming to skewer his foe as he attempted to strangle him right through his upper torso from below.

Athinar kept grinning. Even as the sword stabbed him, ran him through, he kept grinning. Why? He had the Vampyr pinned. Not in the way most people would consider the word 'pinned', but he had his foe relatively immobile. Letting go of the Vampire's throat, without the undead even needing to force him to let go, he used his remaining arm to twist to the right, and grab the Blade. While he was doing this, Athinar was pushing himself upon the blade, as to keep it within him. Then, he struck.

With a swing that ripped tendons in the mortal body, even with the enhanced durability and speed of the Arcane Style: Soldier, Athinar aimed at a horizontal cut at the neck, attempting to decapitate the Vampire. This puppet body was finished, and he knew it. However, why not take out the Childe of the Dark, as well? The swing was so fast, that it seemed to be one solid plane, a window into an abyss. However, no matter the result of the swing, Athinar would collapse, the magic that kept the body puppet together shattering with the death of the body, and his corpse would begin to melt into darkness, as a black cloud of smoke rose to the heavens, going through the ceiling.

He’d expected it, why capture his neck if not to strike with his sword, but it was still dangerous for him. Adrian could not fathom the suicidal tendencies of his foe, but he owed him a fair chance as his blade plunged into his chest. His options for completely avoiding the incoming strike were many, but he refrained, releasing the grip on the sword and stepping back and away, his head shooting backwards and away from the incoming blade. His enemy was done for, but the sword still struck, cleaving into the Vampire’s flesh and bone as he retreated. The sickening sound of his own body being mutilated rushed through his ears with the oddly faint stabbing of pain as he took an additional step backwards and his head whipped up to find his foe disintegrating before him.

The Vampire smiled morbidly, the exposed muscle and bone of his face creating a grisly image as blood poured down his neck. He’d avoided death again, though the blade had left a mark, there were many advantages to being Undead. He watched his sword clatter to the ground with interest, as the muscle and flesh of his face began to knit itself back together, stinging with every moment, it was a good pain.

“Forgive the children,
They know not what they have done
Only death awaits.”

The Vampire retrieved his melancholy sword and sheathed it, slinging his discarded bow on his back and walking away from the crypt, he would take some time to ponder.