IC - Chapter 1: Blood On My Hands, Dirt On My Boots

Rufus was riding at a very fast past through the Kildran plains and back towards his Estate. He felt the wind whistling through his hair as he kept his arm securely around the T-Odis girl, hoping the fast ride wouldn't scare her too much. The Lord's son had developed a somewhat protective coating around the girl, as best as he was able to, and wanted to make sure she was safe and well. Not held here against her will as a high-priced slave anymore. If he had to run with her, then so be it. He already had ideas to get her away but it may not even come to that.. if only his Father was reasonable. Perhaps he could settle for releasing the girl although he held as much hope for that as his Father actually accepting who he was and who he loved. Which was to say very little.


His eyes darkened and he screamed through the gate at the Estate's high cobblestone walls, pulling his black stallion into a rear and holding the girl tightly so she might not tumble off. And almost before the horse had lowered, the Lord's son had half leaped from the creatures back and had his arms extended to Lilly. Lilly meanwhile still had her eyes clenched fearfully closed but once the horse had finally stopped, she peeked a blue eye open to peer down to Rufus with his arms outstretched and gladly slid into them as he placed her onto the ground. Almost the second her feet touched the ground she took a huge breath in and out as she relaxed down and smiled up to him. Rufus slid his arm around Lilly to keep her close, while grasping the bridal to the horse and leading him back to the Stables and a nearby passing stable boy. "Listen, this horse needs a big feed and lots of water, we traveled some distance in a very short time." The stable boy nodded and was already heading off with the horse while Rufus started to lead the white haired girl back through the cobblestone main-way and stepped into the Estate's huge Castle.


Lilly followed Rufus without a complaint, simply blinking up and to the side at him, wondering why he had such an enigmatic look on his face. He seemed almost angry but she knew that anger was not directed towards her. The girl simply clasped her hands gently as she remained silent and followed along, only when they finally stopped she noticed she was before his bedchambers now and almost instantly her body stiffened in his arm. Rufus glanced down finally as he noticed the girl tensing and gave her a warm smile, stepping forward to place his hands on her shoulders gently as he leaned in a portion. "Remember what I told you Lilly? You are to stay with me, you will be safer this way. I promise I will not touch you without your permission again. You may have been bought as a slave, but for me, your my Friend now.. I'll make sure no one hurts you. Do you understand?"


Lilly stared up to Rufus as bits and pieces of his words filtered through, sentences copied from his earlier conversations meant she could more easily identify with the context. She nodded her head sheepishly as the Lord led her inside after opening the doors. "Yes. Will stay. Will wait for you." Nodding her head gently, before she slowly peeled off the very expensive looking necklace that his Father had given her to wear, putting it into Rufus's hand. "Take this." Offering him a warm and kind-heart smile as she cupped one of his hands with both of her own and shook it gently. Reassuringly. Before the little T-Odis girl disappeared into his room to get changed. Once she left Rufus turned to the two nearest Guards with a look close to unbridled rage. "If I hear a single person has entered this Chamber without my express permission, I will see both of your heads on a spike out the front of this Estate. Do Not Cross Me." The guards straightened and clanked their spears along their chest plates. Then Rufus left them both and strode through the hallways with that same angry look on his face. Most serving staff simply took one glanced and moved aside, or rather jumped aside in a half panic and before long Rufus came before his Father's throne room. Here two Guard were holding spears crossed to block his path. "I'm sorry your Lordship you can not enter, the Lord of the Estate requests-"


They didn't get to far into their statements before Rufus had approached the one who spoke, getting close enough so his nose was almost touching and his teeth were bared. "This is my Estate as much as my Father's, I request access to all of it's room and any who dare enter into it. Now you have five seconds to allow me passage, or I'll have to suffer the worst fate for a Traitor or a Enemy to the Throne....." His voice level which made his words only echo further. The guards glanced to one another and then hurriedly walked aside. Rufus didn't even allow them to open the door for him, he had already thrown his weight into the Door, throwing it open and making the hinges groan wearily before the heavy sound of his angry steps echoed the Throne room itself.


"Father! I wish to speak with you.


"Now!"


@King Ad Rock

A collaboration post with


@King Ad Rock as Sefariu Setaro


@CupAndCough as Aloysius Amom-Apophis


( @King Ad Rock takes over as Aloysius halfway through post)


Location: Coliseum of Iorn, Iorn, Kildra


Date: Month 6, Day 15


Time: Half past the twelfth hour of morning (12:30 P.M.)






[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sefariu Setaro stood before the combatant’s entrance to the coliseum grounds, awaiting his introduction. Light flickered through the cracks of the wooden door, just lightly illuminating his darkly olive skin. The smell of dingy sweat with a slight hint of blood hung in the air of the tiny waiting room, filling his nostrils.  The scent was a familiar one that put the young, and somewhat recently titled noble’s mind at ease. It was the scent of close quarters combat. One that Sef knew all too well.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Although his mind was clear and calm, his muscles were tense with anticipation. His dark eyebrows were furrowed in a look of heavy determination. He was there to prove himself to the people of Kildra. To make a name for himself and his family past that of the title of “Nomasdae Mercenary”. The older Kildran houses looked down their noses upon them and the other new houses titled due to their participation in the war on the Queen’s behalf, and this was putting it lightly. Their hatred for them was no secret.  In these fleeting moments, Sef briefly pictured in his mind his love, Rufus.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]It was Sef’s idea himself to enter the tournament in an attempt to bring glory and acceptance to his family’s name.  His father, Tukasulu Setaro, had different plans for integrating them into high-class society that involved marrying off his younger sister to one of the other Noble Lord’s sons.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef could hear the roaring chants of the crowds in the stands. In the recent moments, they had exploded from a dull noise to an ear blistering cheer. It was now obvious that Queen had finally made her arrival to witness the tournament bouts. Just in time for his second match. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef had dominated the poor fellow who was his opponent earlier in the day.  Right as the match was started, the foolish young Kildran squire had rushed towards him in a clumsy stance. Sef waited for him, calm and ready. When his opponent finally came within proper distance, Sef let out a precise high kick aimed at his head with ferocious speed before the man could strike with his own attack. The vicious blow made contact with the side of his face and made a sickeningly loud slap sound as the squire crumbled to the ground in a limp pile. And as quickly as the match began, it was over as the unconscious young man was dragged away by possible companions.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The Setaro Scorpion, as he was known during the war, had hoped that the clearly untrained man would recover fully, but he was not here to play games.  He would take out his next opponent just as quickly and without hesitation if the fool let him. As if on cue with his thoughts, the tournament announcer finally boomed out from far off on the other side of the doors,[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Lords and Ladies of Kein! Please rise and welcome Queen Suzane Hildren! The Lord Azae has blessed us with her presence just as the second round of the fisticuffs tournament is about to begin! How lucky we are to witness this special occasion!”[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef had known this was coming once the grating sounds of the looping horns of Iorn began their seemingly never-ending song. This was good.  The queen would be in attendance of his fight, and regardless of her personal opinion on such activities, tradition would have her react accordingly. The noble houses of Kildra would witness this, and if he continued to dominate his matches, then they would have no choice but to give him and his family the respect he believed they deserved.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]It was almost time. The doors would be opened for him at any moment now. An iron clad guard slowly stepped out from the room by Sef’s right and proceeded to ask the awaiting warrior if he was ready. Sef responded with only a short nod, keeping his eyes focused on the doors ahead of him.  The tension in the room was palpable, but Sef thrived on every second of it, using it to psych himself up for the events that were about to come. He had watched his next opponent, the fighter known as Wyrm, in his first bout and knew this would be no easy task. The mysterious combatant had easily taken out a Parshumian monk with a body size that rivaled most T’Odis.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]As the guard pulled on a chain dangling from a pulley system, the doors before Sef slowly pulled apart, allowing the intensely bright sun to wash its light into dark and damp waiting chambers. The doors had been blocking the wall of noise that was now hitting Sefariu with a tremendous force. Every blaring voice was melding into one another.  With a raise of his arm, Sef shielded his eyes from the glare of the sunlight while his eyes adjusted.  The sight his eyes took in once they could was something Sef had not seen before in his life. Thousands of people were packed to the brim in the stands of the coliseum, screaming at the tops of their lungs. He had never witnessed so many people gathered in one place; at least not for peaceful and enjoyable reasons.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“It is now time to begin the second round of the fisticuffs tournament! Our first contenders are two tenacious fighters who made quick work of their first round opponents! The first fighter being let onto the grounds, hailing from Boar’s Den, is Sefariu Setaro of House Setaro! Otherwise known as the ‘Black Rose of Boar’s Den’!”[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef stopped dead in his tracks. He could not believe what his ears had just heard. Did they really just call him that? Assuming the announcer did not know the origin of the title, he shook off the awkward pause and stepped forward from the waiting room and onto the arena grounds. His darkly brown eyes slowly made their way over the immense crowds that surrounded him on all sides. They soon fell on the noble booths that were built high into the coliseum walls to get a vantage view of the festivities. Each booth had its House banner hung from its railing.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The largest of the booths was located on the North side and was reserved for both the Iornia and royal families. And there she was, in all her spoke of beauty, Queen Suzane. She was standing by the side of the tall and lean Kindrel Iornia while greeting the tournament spectators with a wave. Sef also recognized Chancellor Virin and General Sindor in the booth, but was not familiar with the short red headed woman by the Queen’s other side. She was possibly a handmaiden, although she did not traditionally dress like one.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef wanted to call out over the crowd and make a grand gesture to the Queen before the bout commenced, but the announcer introducing his opponent stopped him.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“And his opponent…[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE]




[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"...Who is ascending after his last round, The Wyrm!" [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The area in which Aloysius sat was motionless, nary a sight of the one known as Wyrm. A name that should be familiar to a few members of the audience, and for his opponent--something that would me a heavy reminder of what he came from. Of war and blood, of land war-gotten and sword-gained. It will not be a friendly one. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Aloysius sat in his alone--idly fiddling with his fingers. The man just finished snorting the air like a truffle-sensing hog.  Intoxicated by a subtle smell, which was more nostalgic to him than the fight that birthed it. He was entranced. Captivated, what brought a man to see such strange interest in the horridness of life? Aloysius peered at his fingertips--the blood of the Parshuman still fresh. Still wet. Still fragrant and vivid of sensory qualities that Aloysius believed that was propelling him t achieving a small burst of enlightenment. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Aloysius, who peered into his palm and fingertips so enthralled at the infinite wonders of the red cells he could reap more from the next opponent. Aloysius half-heartedly listened to the announcer, disinterested with the noise from the outside world. However an ear had pricked up, catching the name of a familiar soul and with that he smiled[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]It was in those few moments he heard the call. Wyrm. He knew it was not subtle. The title was to be more of a message, a reminder. This land was not unfamiliar to him--and one who brokered a war he once took part in and called this land hers. This connection drew him here, perhaps like a stray lingering around the hand which fed him scraps. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"The Black Rose of Boar's Den" , Aloysius pondered the name his opponent with a strange sense of intrigue, "O' what self-respecting nobility let's their progeny play in the muck with creatures like us?" Aloysius said aloud as he peered forth from his holding area.  The sound of a man coming to his feet was heard as he clutched onto the door that held him. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"With men nary a sense of remorse?  With ilk o' ours that enjoy our fair share of bloodshed--perhaps that's where children o' the Boar were meant to thrive.."  Aloysius had begun to walk towards the entrance, a single foot appeared. Aloysius had dressed himself to nothing but simple pant linens. As the light began to hit his body, the plethora of scars appeared upon his body took shape. They were a white tome that uplifted the flesh it was bored upon, clashing with the distinct olive-tan colors of his skin. As his face was soon taken by the light, a familiar face was staring at Sef, a visage that bore a malicious intent behind its crocodile smile.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"..In the muck, with creatures like us" Aloysius proclaimed with arms stretched, vast and wide they were as it felt to him that he was giving a sermon for Anahit herself, about to preach how she blessed him with another worthy test of mettle. "It seems that the Setaro name is one I cannot escape after that blessed war, isn't that right whelp?" Aloysius spoke with such familiarity to Sefariu, "How is that aging father of yours? Coddled by his riches?"[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Aloysius looked forward to Sefariu with a smirk, one the combed across the hairs of his face, "You ought to tell me what brings you here--Tired of the nobility your family vied for? Perhaps you should join my company, if you seek such strife and hardships that make a life worth living for, we could fight in the same glorious fire-fields our men used to create in that Anahit-blessed war--I believe you'd be a fun acquisition, yes?" [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The dark brown haired man slowly walked forward--body adorned in defined musculature and battle wounds from old to recent. His enthusiasm roared to a few of his "company" in the stands. Empty Ouroboros men who came to watch their leader fight--They cheered for their leader, some almost the look of religiosity upon their faces. Their call for battle was so intense and rowdy that they carved a little part of the stands for themselves with their ferocity and blood-lust. Aloysius paid them no mind.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]He turned to his side witnessing a wondrous sight. Queen Suzane. His face turned to twisted. malediction-carrying, amusement. It was a passing glance. Soon Aloysius began to peace together a story in his head. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Was the Sefariu here for the Queen?[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"I wonder if I beat you near death in front o' her--What kind of favor I would gain." Aloysius hissed towards Sef as he turned to him with a sly grin, trying to rile him. "I want you to take this fight seriously, Black Rose--we both know what shall come about if you don't."  A self-pleasured, melodious, snicker came forth as me alluded to killing the once-mercenary, now-noble opponent.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Aloysius looked for a moment at the Queen. He was not awed by her beauty. He was not enthralled by her grace. Not even tantalized by the thought of her acknowledgement. However as he peered at her with inhuman eyes there was no sense of comradery, or acknowledgement for her crown, respect for her grace and not even a love for her beauty. It was a moment of that of a assaulter who attacked out of dominance, and not of lust or love, gave to their would be victim and with that the devout-follower bowed, his intentions made clear. He was not, to any noble really, a comrade or one that gave devotion. He had one lord. And that was his will to live by his desires against the strife of the world. Anahit came closest to that idea.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“I believe it is time I skip the intrigue of speeches and conversation ..." He commented, the sound of bone clacking against bone echoed as he methodically and to pop the air with his joints, a sign of his body becoming enthralled in the bout ..."and refresh her memory. And perhaps yours? O' the war we were blessed by... [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Aloysius had begun to take his stance in his modest attire. Aloysius wanted to feel this battle. Feel it upon his skins as wounds and welts. Feel it for the blessing it was, and how amazing that boon was. As air swelled with vocal winds and the arena clamorous with chatter of the attendants, Aloysius Amon-Apophis had begun to blacken out the world. his pupils dilating into dark black circles--devouring the vivid color of his eyes. Darkness. That was all he could see, save for one being before him. All that focus, it came upon Sefariu, the intensity rose as even his mocking smirk was replace with an agape jaw which bore fangs and panting tongue.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Open palms became claw-like. Fingers curled into hooks that sought rend any foe asunder into nothing but viscera. Tendon and flesh tightened, clutching together like links in chain-mail.  Aloysius had taken his stance. With air palpable with malice and an overwhelming ambition to assert one’s will, Aloysius stood, poised, a waiting for the call of battle.. [/SIZE]







[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef had watched carefully from his side of the fighting grounds as his opponent made his methodical entrance to the announcer’s introduction. It appeared as if he was saying something out loud as he exited the holding area. The crowd surrounding them was in an uproar, caused by the combination of the Queen’s arrival and the anticipation for the beginning of this bout, drowning out the approaching warrior’s words. His arms were outstretched to the crowd in a theatrical manner.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef took it all in slowly, every individual face, every individual cheer and cry, before allowing himself to give his full attention to his opponent.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]There was something about the similarly statured man that brought a sense of familiarity to Sef. Did he somehow know this fighter named “Wyrm” from some point in his past? He was a decently well-built man dressed only in simple linen pants, with a dangerously swift and deadly looking physique that was covered almost head-to-toe in scars.  The man’s face bore an intent that Sef had recognized plenty of times before.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Then the confidant taunting came Sef’s way in rapid succession. His voice had a sickeningly smug ring to it, and was almost melodic as well as the speaker sang these words out to Sef. The taunts were strange and almost poetic in their own way.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"It seems that the Setaro name is one I cannot escape after that blessed war, isn't that right whelp?" There was now no longer any question of if Sef and this man were somehow familiar with each other, although Sef could still not place who he was. "How is that aging father of yours? Coddled by his riches?"[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]And with that inquiry, Sef now knew exactly whom it was that stood before him, the leader of the Ouroboros Mercenaries, Alosious Amon-Apophis.  His features were now more visible in the high sun of the early afternoon. Almost too subtle to notice, Sef’s fist clenched tightly and his eyes narrowed for just a moment at the realization that this man was his next opponent. He had heard countless stories from his father and the other mercs in the Setaro Blades of the so-called “War Poet”.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]It was during the war that his father had become acquainted with Aloysius, both leading their own respective mercenary bands. As a young soldier, Sef had only seen glimpses of him during planning and battle.  It was his father, Tukasulu, who had the displeasure of having to work and strategize side-by-side with this man. Sef vividly recalled the warning his father gave him after their second or third meeting,[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“That man is vicious, unremorseful, and possibly completely insane. He is the epitome of what you do not want to become on the battlefield, Sefariu. Remember these words if you ever find yourself in his presence.” And as his father said, these words echoed through the still calm mind of Sefariu as Aloysius continued his slow pacing. The smirk that he wore was a snide one that sent a feeling of pure detestment down the spine of Sef. Wiping it off was going to be pleasurable. Sef remained unmoving and allowed Aloysius to approach further.[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"You ought to tell me what brings you here--Tired of the nobility your family vied for? Perhaps you should join my company, if you seek such strife and hardships that make a life worth living for, we could fight in the same glorious fire-fields our men used to create in that Anahit-blessed war--I believe you'd be a fun acquisition, yes?"[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Anahit.”[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sefariu’s father had mentioned that the man was devoutly religious. Something about him being chosen by the Nomasdae warrior God to create war. Another delusion his father called it. Unlike most Nomasdae, Tukasulu Setaro was a Non-believer who looked down on the belief of religion  and those who dedicated and shaped their lives to it.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef did not respond the taunting inquiries of Alosyius and instead began slowly stretching his neck from side-to-side while never breaking his glance from the man. Aloysius appeared to glance as the royal booth before continuing his barbs,[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"I wonder if I beat you near death in front o' her--What kind of favor I would gain? I want you to take this fight seriously, Black Rose--we both know what shall come about if you don't." This last jab was followed by a rhythmic chortle that was probably intended to insult the young fighter, but Aloysius’ attempts at shaking Sef with his words and mannerism were not working. Sef chose to still not respond to him, only standing motionless with eyes looking the fighter over cautiously. His lips pursed showing just a slight annoyance, if anything.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“I believe it is time I skip the intrigue of speeches and conversation …” Aloysius spoke as he cracked the joints in his knuckles.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“It’s about damn time.” [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef thought to himself.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"and refresh her memory. And perhaps yours? O' the war we were blessed by... " These were Aloyisus’ final words as he got into a ready stance. The look of enjoyment that he had just moments before was quickly washed away and replaced with a bloodthirsty scowl.[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Well you certainly do enjoy the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” Sef retorted at last while slowly spreading his feet shoulder-width apart, his feet dragging the bare, soft earth with them. His knees bent just slightly as his arms raised, his right slightly higher than his left, in his own unique stance. His palms were open and facing the open blue skies of Kildra. The volume of the crowd began to rise steadily in a fervor of anticipation.[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef did not need any speech or fancy words to assert his presence in the arena. With a flick of his wrist and index finger, he motioned for Aloysius to make the first strike…[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]A gust of dirt, sand and ill-hailing wind exploded forth from the ground as Aloysius's feet left the earth. Is was in the split moment of his flight that his eyes locked on the Black Rose, they flared with the qualities reminiscent of a madman, while his face bore no such enjoyment--in fact it was as if it was keenly focused and aware of the younger Setaro. His face empty of emotion, eyes of green-jade clad in maddening luster and polish. The way the structure of his form moved whilst gliding through the air was a serpent through the waters of the sea. Fluid. Consistent. Powerful. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"GOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]A loud, booming roar came forth. A hark to his title as the Khasmin Roar. It echoed with such inhumanity that it provide doubt to what lied nestled in the flesh of Aloysius. Shaking some attendents to their very core. It was as if hundreds of Tral-el began to roar in unison--a desert of rage nestled with the ribs of Aloysius.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]It was as if his charge built power each forward motion he took, muscles churning out primal, but honed, nature--yet suddenly from the haze of motion he came from--a heavy, stream-setting, claw crashed down upon Sefariu, the air whistling as it came to sight. It was a beastly claw, not that of a human--it could not possible had been, it was with such power, such malediction, and honest bloodlust that revealed a horrifyingly empty true nature that it had to be that of a beast. A monster. It was something so unerring to this fact that it was accompanied more of it's kind, furthering this truth with evidence of its existence.   An onslaught of claws, an arsenal barrage of a monster had followed the first strike--like outstretched arms. Such wicked appendages drew to a disgusting maw that sought to devour the once ally in war.. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Something had change in Aloysius--it was not the callous and lax nature he had with Guan. It was far different from the moments of arrogance and sickening sadism that follow before--an ambitious impetus, one of motive,  was apparent in Aloysius came forth from the controlled strikes flairing from the man's presence. Refined, but savage. Contradictory in thought, a fatal attraction in form.  It was of a glimpse of something else. The taunts deferred and negging dismissed had realized something.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Not too far from a spurned harasser, not too alike of a rogue cast aside--but it was starkly different in a single way from these idea. The lack of displeasure. Never once did Aloysius show displeasure in Sefariu's refrain and complete dismissal of his taunting. An alternate path had to be taken....[/SIZE]







[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]And in an instant the match had officially begun. Aloysius wasted no time and exploded forward as if propelled by the powerful cheers of the spectators themselves. He moved towards the static Sef at an alarming speed, his legs pumping his feet down into the dirt of the arena floor causing clouds of dust to kick up behind him. Sef admired the flawless form of the supposed madman as he raced closer with every passing of a millisecond. The young noble’s exceptional eyesight zoned in on the now almost inhuman face of his opponent. There was no emotion visible to read, but a glimmer in his eye hinted at the darkest of intents.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"GOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH" Aloysius let out a roar like some kind of hellish beast. This now cemented for Sef the opinion by his father that the Empty Ouroboros leader was a madman. Maybe it was some type of intimidation tactic, one that would not work on rattling the fighter.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Then, the Basilisk as he was also known, was upon Sefariu with lightning fast blows. So great was the speed that his limbs were nothing but a blur of motion. Aloysius’ hands were formed in a peculiar manner to create unique strikes that entered Sef’s personal space. These were not the strikes of someone looking to start the match with light sparring. They were delivered with a sheer ferociousness that suggested he wished to end the bout as quickly as possible.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]With an instinctual reaction, Sef was able to deflect the majority of the volley with windmill movements from his own limbs, connecting his wrists with Aloysius’. But unfortunately Sef could not match the unrelenting speed of Aloysius, and the final two blows connected with Sef’s jaw and collarbone with a shocking amount of strength behind them. The force of the connection caused Sef’s angular chin to jerk to the right. He could feel his bottom teeth tear deeply into his lip causing the familiar taste of copper blood filled his mouth. He stumbled backwards just one step, but caught his balance with trained swiftness.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]There could be no hesitation with this deadly man. There would be no time to pause and evaluate the situation in this fight. Sef had to let the memories worked long and deep into his muscles take over. It was time to retaliate. He would show this “Wyrm” one of the many ways he had earned the title, “The Setaro Scorpion”. Taking place in just a split second after Aloysius’ connected strikes, Sef threw his right leg backwards while shifting all the weight to his left. In a fluid motion, Sef bent his torso over and swung his foot up the length of his back in an amazingly acrobatic display. His leg was mimicking the stinger of a scorpion in what Sef had named, “The Scorpion Kick”. The stretch that was needed to pull off such a unique kick seemed surreal in its success.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The maneuver was made possible by years of training, intricate stretching, and an innate limberness that his father and brother did not possess. It’s unorthodox execution was intended to catch the opponent off-guard. Sef’s foot soared up the length of his arched spine and came over the back of his bowed head, aiming straight for Aloysius’ face. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]A significant slam reached Aloysius, an astoundingly limber foot met an equally wildly beast. The barrage turned to a pause. A roar to a dull and steady breath. Bashed, his forehead bled--the foot still firmly planted onto his face. The foot spanned the length of his face, if not longer. It masked the emotions he tried to convey through flesh, but it was objectively better than out-lash of what he felt at that moment. A grimace. Cold. Strong. Lips closed to a prominent curve with his lips' flairs etching the pure and foul amount of dislike. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The impact sent the man-beast into backwards arc, his spine adjusting to the force of the impact which continued his rather awkward reaction. A strange and almost exaggerated display. The blood which poured from his head ran down a delta-like stream, dripping off Sef's boot heel. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"Hmph" He gave a slight notice of his disinterest through puffing out steam from his nostrils. He recoiled, stepping backwards--stepping a breathable distance from Sef. His face become clear for all to see. It was:  [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Impressed [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The man's raised brow said as much--he was clearly impressed by the feat  However the grimace still showed a bit of his annoyance--but he gave respect where it was due. Though as the stream of blood running from a scuff mark on his forehead may have hurt his pride a bit he was impressed nonetheless with Sefariu.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]It was quiet few seconds, broken by single series of claps from Aloysius, Which abruptly stopped with a thunderous punctuation. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"I commend your technique! It seems we both found a totem to base off our styles and abilities--Though that was your chance to end this. Spectacle and Finesse-You will soon find out that I am a different game than the common rabble we've slew. You have provided much more than just Anahit's gift. Oh how have I've learned, You have taught me."[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Aloysius postulated and looked down upon the younger Setaro, a dribbled of blood teared out of his lip's edge as he finished his speech. The stream was halted as he smirked. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"Scorpion or Reptile? Let's find out shall we?" Rotating his neck and adjusting his shoulders, which were accompanied by a symphony of cracks, pops, and snaps. Aloysius desired to see this boy on the offensive, so he returned to his fighting stance--but towards the end he began to egg him on with a finger motion that allude to a "Come here to get your ass beat".  or something....  [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]    [/SIZE]







[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef listened to Aloysius’ incomprehensible rabble. Something about Anahit’s gift and a taunt that he had missed his chance to snatch victory from him. He didn’t feel the need to inform his opponent that there was much more where that came from. The kick had connected perfectly with a tremendous force, leaving an impressive bootprint and small gash across Aloysius’ forehead. The crowd raged with bloodlust.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Aloysius was smiling.[/SIZE]


"Scorpion or Reptile? Let's find out shall we?" [SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Aloysius took the time to crack the bones in his shoulders and neck with sickeningly loud pops. A return to his former, flawless stance was followed by a mischievous beckoning motion made by his fingers. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]There was one thing about this so-called ‘madman’ that intrigued the young Setaro; he appeared to share the love of combat. But there was more to it than that. They shared a love for testing another’s strength. To explore another’s will in an all out test of physicality. That's what this was. He wanted to test the skill of Sefariu. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Well, The Setaro Scorpion had no problem obliging. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef spread his legs into a wide stance and bent slightly at the knees. His arms simultaneously rose with an arch in both of his wrists, his fingers of each hand pointed directly at Aloysius. With a step forward with his dominant right leg, he traced a semi circle in the soft dirt of the arena floor before him with toe of his dark brown boot. His maroon robes fell by his sides and grazed the ground with gentle wisps. Muscles tensed with more anticipation than he had felt this entire time. A smile of his own soon crept across his face like a thief in the still night. His father may have warned him of the ruthlessness of his opposition, but now… Sef was ready to play.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]With a quick shifting of weight to his off leg, Sef launched himself through the air from just behind his recently created line in an awe-inspiring display. His agile frame soared through the air gracefully like a leaping Jakka, and while in mid air, he twisted his entire body while extending his right foot to create a spinning kick. Time seemed to slow down as the wind whipped his robes around him. The fierce strike was again aimed directly at Aloysius’ head as Sef flew towards him, covering remarkable ground in the process.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Aloysius stood at the ready and watched with a wildly anxious stare. Waiting until the last possible second to respond, he let Sef’s airborne kick come within less than a foot from his temple before raising his left hand with deft speed to block the attack. His open palm received Sef’s boot so naturally it appeared as if this was intended consequence from both parties. The ready fingers clamped down with a vice like grip. In one graceful movement, Aloysius spun himself around in a whirlwind motion, whipping Sef’s body with him like some kind of doll.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]With just a half rotation, the Basilisk used the Setaro Scorpion’s momentum against him, and with a practiced flick of his wrist, sent the younger fighter flying off-balance through the air. Sef hit the dirt of the arena floor with a rolling tumble causing small clouds of dust to float up around him.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The crowd exploded with incredible enthusiasm. Their feet began slamming up and down in unison causing thunderous booms to echo out; an old tradition in the coliseum of Iorn the spectators use to show their enjoyment of the combat.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The time for feeling each other out was now over. Capitalizing on his opponent’s lack of defence, Aloysius rushed the fallen Sefariu with remarkable speed. With each passing second and step closer, his intent grew more and more malevolent and malicious. Although it would be quite enjoyable to continue toying with the welp, the internal choice was made to end this bout now. He would beat the good-looking man’s face to a hideous pulp. He would bask in his blood, feeling it drip down his knuckles with unadulterated joy.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Aloysius leapt high into the air, hoping to pounce on the downed Sef and unleash a bombardment of vicious blows. His hands were once again curled in a fashion reminiscent of a Tral-el’s talon to employ his unique strikes. But just as his body was to meet his foe’s, Sef sprung into action and flipped hastily onto his back from his stomach. He speedily brought his knees into his chest with the bottoms of his feet pointed at the sky, or better yet, Aloysius’ incoming chest. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The maneuver was too expeditious for Aloysius to react in time. He felt his sternum land on the spring ready feet of Sef with anticipation. There was excitement at this unexpected turn of events where others would feel panic. Sef almost smiled as his eyes locked with Aloysius’ in the brief second before he sprang the ill intended leader of the Empty Ouroboros backwards with all of his strength. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The wall of noise that was now coming from the exhilarated crowd drowned out the thudding sound of Aloysius’ backside hitting the earth. He took just a moment to compose himself before slowly rising back to his feet in a somewhat dramatic manner. The young Setaro was continuing to impress him with each passing action. Dropping his still-bleeding forehead into his right hand, Aloysius began to laugh maniacally. Was it an act to intimidate? Or was he truly mad? [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“O’ young Setaro, you are quite full of supri-” Whatever trash-talking or taunts that Aloysius intended to preach out were impeded by a cross-hook to his chiseled jaw. Blood filled his mouth as his mind filled with a raging gratification. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Yes, give it everything you have got. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef’s precision hook was quickly followed by another strike; a hard left jab to Aloysius’ retreating skull, sending it further back. A third strike came at Aloysius’ head, attempting a combination of punches, but the intended target dodged with a lightning flash. Where his head once was was instantaneously replaced with the crook of his elbow, catching Sef’s entire right arm in some type of lock. His limb was trapped. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“A fine effort Setaro! But now it is [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]my[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] turn!” Aloysius mocked over the surrounding onlookers as their gazes met. His free hand gripped the wrist of Sef and extended his arm. With no hesitation, Aloysius dropped the entirety of his weight to the arena floor with his opponent’s arm firmly within his grasp. The pair crashed down to the ground in unison. Aloysius held Sef’s wrist tightly with both of his hand while leaning his elbow into the back of Sef’s shoulder in an attempt to make his adversary submit. Or dislocate his shoulder, whichever came first. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef was in agony. His shoulder, neck, and torso were on fire with burning pain. Aloysius’ grip was strong and he was basically slowly tearing Sef’s right arm from it’s socket. The pain was unbearable, but he gritted his teeth and took it. The intense sounds of the onlookers around them were beginning to dim out for Sef as his eyesight closed in. He was losing consciousness from the physical torment. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“This cannot be it.” [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sef had one last chance to save himself. Using the same amazing limberness that he displayed at the beginning of the match, he bent his body backwards and brought his legs up with a snap. The soles of both of his boots connected with the back of Aloysius’ head with a brutal impact. Sef felt the instant limpness of his foe as his arm came free with an overwhelming feeling of alleviation. While breathing heavily, Sef pushed the unconscious body of Aloysius off of him and looked to the morning sky. The entire stadium were now on their feet in a fervor.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“And the winner is… Sefariu Setaro of House Setaro by way of knockout!’ The announcer called out to inform the crowd.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Sefariu slowly rose to his feet to meet the adoration. He looked down at his dead-to-the-world opponent and gave a short nod in appreciation before looking up to the royal booth. He raised the same arm that Aloysius just had in his grasp moments before, and with a bit of finesse, gave a deep bow. [/SIZE]

Man could rise to any height, but there was an animal level beneath which he could not fall


T.E Lawrence, Seven pillars of wisdom


Location: Kildra, South of Mandria, Kildra's mountain range, Smiths compound


Date: Month 6, Day 12


Time: 45 Minutes to midnight!


Arcsidian, the self-claimed man of erudition did not concur that night to the tepid banquet of vindication, rather excused himself to his library after the superfluity of excuses he made to the seven captains disgusted him. The jubilation of his men, immersed in reprobation has set the appropriate mood for the book he was reading. A crimson book, embellished with delicate golden strings disseminated over the cover. This chaotic ubiquity of golden string at the top emerged into order, which formed the title, "The master merit". The enigmatic nature of the book vindicated the author’s intentions in justifying slavery through improvisation and metaphysical reasoning. "A total rhetoric." Arcsidian thought. He did not concur to the dictum, but he was confident that his own, provided limpid judgment which contributed greatly to the fruition of his business propriety.


Samir, one of arcsidian's men knocked on the door and entered upon receiving permission. "m'lord the captain's are leaving, one of them left you this note." and hands the letter to arcsidian. The letter mentioned the Lord Nevarron's intentions of purchasing a female slave with diaphanous details. "Samir, have the slave girl we purchased last month prepared in decent clothing, see that she's embellished and ship her of." Samir leaves. Arcsidian returns to the book but underneath, he's replaying the day he purchased the slave girl Lilly @Zuka in the secret auction held here in Kildra a month ago.


The young female was but a child, a teenage girl. This one was terrified to her deepest cores. "I have little use for a kitten. I don't usually play with them. I might feed you to my dogs, or worst."Arcsidian was talking about his men. The girl let out a very damp scream, an act of fear lubricated by more fear.


For a while now, a peaceful sleep’s been a rare commodity for Arcsidian and tonight was no different. Dreams full of repugnance and conversations with odd individuals. Starting with impertinence, war, and then, tranquility and nothingness. Mass destruction. Even His adroitness of brain could not comprehend. A sudden shock and arcsidian jumped up looking for his dagger like a child for his mother, neglecting the figure that caused it. "M'lord! We’ve been attacked! Redmight's legions sir!" This is the voice of Samir. Arcsidian couldn't believe his ears


 "Those treacherous bastards just had dinner with us. I told Václav to watch their moves!"


"I think his excused, his body was found in a ditch!"


Redmight's assassin took advantage of the feast to hide all over his compound. More than half of his men are dead. How superficial he felt. Maybe he didn't comprehend the disaster in his circumference or he just didn't care. In the past he had always been critical of his own feelings and their authenticity.


The sound of men screaming and fighting outside the library, in amazing propriety, reminded him of one of those conversations he had with someone in his dreams. There were no fighting in his dream conversations, although, the smell of smoke, and the grindings of metals against each other, in all their repugnance with a normal conversation, in superficiality were no different.


Samir and arcsidian rushed towards the book columns. Arcsidian found what he was looking for. His escape. In the row of books about “ubiquity” a book leads to escape. It leads to a labyrinth of tunnels in amazing propriety with his book collections. He always thought of his library and their order of placement and propriety of subjects as a maze. He always thought that this library signify and symbolize his own mind! And he built that maze below his compound with the same proportions. As a result of this no one could find his way out of it but he himself. Samir and arcsidian stepped inside the maze for the intentions of survival. Soon they’ll end up in another for different intentions!