Hell's Stride | Chartres Cathedral

[Shockingcat]

TehKouga

"Turning and walking away is also quite foolish, leaving that back exposed. Unless it is to mean disrespect. One does not come and offer service only to leave that very moment" Lysander spoke out as he took his left hand to grab a hold a strand of his red hair, to measure how soaked it was as he noticed something with the giant by the boulder, however his attention was short lived for the giant simply walked away. "If you are indeed the guardian of this place, I want to see if the person is befitting of such a title." Lysander had sent out his challenge, now he would have to wait and see if the receiving party would take the invite, and as a challenge has be sent, sitting around idling waiting for something to happen would prove fatal therefore he subtly adjusted his feet into a stance, ready to take anything on.

[H l D E O]

EXPOSITION : The last Triumvir

"sedit qui timuit ne non succederet."
He who feared he would not succeed sat still.

The soft dying array of lasting sun would set the stage for the tired but victorious men I have certainly brought to prestige. I was given orders to pursue this king ( king Hierta of Numidia ) unworthy of rome and its legion. I will cement my disdain until Sulla's death. Ex libro LXXXIX - Gnaeus Pompeius - adulescens carnifex: Teenage Butcher


----------------------------

Just as it begun, the day churning its bright ember rays to caste a solemn feel across the land, a familiar being would traverse the terrain in the shadows of the overwhelming rays of the sun. Sinusoidal waves of heat moving across the body obscuring its figure from the distance, each advancing step would bring him closer to a familiar place, thus bringing clarity to whom awaited him at the entrance. The land was clear and his path narrow as this place brought him back to a state of origin , something he could always trace his journey from...considering there weren't many places like this. A slight brisk of air would whip what ever languid, and loose, clothing that was attached to him as he pressed on. His introduction to it all was confusing and as he walked along he contemplated his return. It was all characterized by the habit he accrued when anxiety began to engulf his very mindset, pocketing his hands. Tucked away in the tight seems of his pockets, fingers curled viciously as if stuffed unasked while his soft white hair covered a large portion of his forehead. His eyes falling on the eminent structure that seemed to withstand the test of time. The deep red hue reflecting once the light took aim as a small smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth. Deep imprints from his boots would leave a notable trail as he enclosed on the Cathedral, and all it withheld.

It was rather cool as the sun just birthed a swell of heat rising the temperature only slightly, but it was only late morning or so meaning the sun hadn't reached its peak. It took Hideo a few miles before he reached the summit of the Cathedral but not before he was met with angst over the fact he was going to run into a random traveler looking to swing his sword for glory. It was not his style though he knew it would be a prevalent excuse coming to Hell's Stride. Almost a coincidence that he was sitting in his own bar, back in the urban puzzle of Barton enjoying a seemingly freakish encounter until he caught word of this name, Hell's Stride. The memory of his past journey's sparking like a lighter in the brain as a surge of physical flashbacks sparked his interest. Upon speaking more with this mysterious man and carrying out a half-interested conversation he was able to finally get the location of the Cathedral considering his memory couldn't provide a clear enough answer. Thusly, he would find himself back here like an adventurous young fighter as he brought both feet to a stop. Glancing up he would yell from his current positon.

"YOOO!!!!"

His bronze skin contrasting the dark leather attire he wore. Leather jacket, gloves and pants, modified biker boots strapped to his feet. Besides the bronze tone of his left hand contrasting his glove, his right would produce the opposite mix, metallic surface shimmering in the light as he removed it form his pocket so that he may cover his brows from the sun that bear blasted his vision. He had really forgotten how it looked. That smirk growing in size as he stood before the Cathedral doors.

[TehKouga]

ImNoHero

Dzaek was distracted, but the flurry of movement caught his attention, and he tore away from Shinjiko's presence. In front of him, Bishop was advancing, and Dzaek didn't have long to react.

FWOOSH!!!

Now, at least, it seemed that luck had turned to Dzaek's favor. This Russian, with strength of a giant and the breath of a dragon, was facing an air elemental. Not a simple spellcaster, but a creature of the wind. Dropping his staff, he needed both hands and all of his concentration. He exhaled, and as he did he pushed the air out, holding it in place, and creating something like a vacuum sphere around Dzaek; fire needed oxygen, and Dzaek was robbing the air surrounding him. He also exhaled, so that his lungs didn't burst from the pressure differential.

As that happened, he continued pushing the air away from him, and towards Bishop. Centering Bishop, he created a vortex of air currents, like a localized tornado. It lacked the strength of proper gale-force winds, Dzaek would have needed a charge or two for that, but he could create the framework. Ever seen a fire get caught up in a tornado? That's what happened here, the fire blossomed from Bishop, got caught in the currents and would swirl around himself, redirecting the attack. Dzaek wasn't stopping it, wasn't blocking it, he was merely guiding it, presenting the fire with the clearest route. Fire always followed the path of least resistance.

Currently, that path was Bishop.

[TehKouga]

Shockingcat

Wade stopped, but didn't turn, "Everyone always says that..." Now, he did turn, his head tilted lazily to one side, "So rigid and formal. Always going on about respect and honor. I was merely offering a greeting, you didn't seem interested, so I was going to leave you in peace. However, if you seek a challenge, then I'll oblige." He didn't move, though. No weapon drawn. He wasn't even in a stance; he was just standing, relaxed and at ease, hands crossed over his chest, "I don't waste time with pretenses of title, or honor, or lofty ideals of a warrior's code and respect. I was just saying hi. If you want something.. come get it."

[Mr Shinjiko]

There was a slight clap from Shinjiko, almost inaudible. He was behind Bishop, facing the same direction, a few feet back. Golf clap. Giving a smirk, that old gent began to exit the cathedral. He had things to do, couldn't get caught up in someone else's business. As he walked down the stairs, his cellphone was brought out from within the suit coat, brought to his ear.

"I need supplies, deliver them to Chartres Cathedral."

It would take about a day for his belongings to get to him, so he'd simply walk around the grounds. Watching everything. Watching everyone. Many were going to die in the future, many were going to survive. This was a world once forgotten, and he was going to make sure it came back.

[ImNoHero]

"AHH! FAWK! FAWKFAWKFAWK!!!!"

That was the last thing he expected, a backfire of his own attack. He dropped his mace innately. His left hand patted on his head to knock the flames out of his hair, the smell still filling the hair in the happening. His right hand ripped his hoodie from his own torso. Once that was done, he would pat the flames off of his wraps, or what would be left of them. Smoking and lightly charred, Bishop was very pissed now. His flaming hoodie lay on the ground still in flames as he came forth again. When he came to move forward, he assumed Dzaek would be recovering his staff. Even if he didn't go for it, Bishop right boot would kick the flaming garment at him as he raced for the man. Meanwhile his left hand went for his sonic pulse pistol again....

[TehKouga]

ImNoHero

Redirection was Dzaek's best technique. He could turn an opponent's strength into their weakness, turn their strikes to hail upon themselves. Control and guidance of an opponent's energy.

While Bishop was patting himself down, Dzaek waited. This time, he had time to charge up. He didn't go for his staff; it was on the ground at his feet, resting across his right foot. He slowly let the vacuum sphere dissipate - if he let it go all at once, the air would rush in and it threatened to pull the fire back in with it. So the sphere slowly blew away. Bishop threw a flaming garment towards him - what was that supposed to do? A thrown garment, like a feather or piece of paper, didn't go very far. He didn't expect it would even touch him, and if it came close enough a gentle breeze would bat it aside. He saw Bishop's hand, and he grinned a wolfish grin.

[Charge: 1]

[Evil Omens]

Hunger.

A burning sensation in the deepest pit of Temozariel's being, and the purest feeling that a devil could possess. Like a shark, he was drawn to this place by the smell of blood and fear and of flesh. The perfect hunting ground.

Cathedrals were never the sort of places that devils hung around. They were a symbol of that which his very existence defied. But the thirst for blood and his insatiable appetite for the flesh had brought him here. Temozariel stood at seven feet tall and weighed an easy four hundred pounds, all of that mass hidden under a leathery black cloak. There was no need for what he was to be revealed, as a predator does not wish to be known until it is time to strike.

Temozariel's face was hidden from sight as well, covered by a bone-white mask, made up to look like the skeletal face of a dead demon. In fact, that is exactly what it was. The grass beneath the devils feet tingled as he approached the Cathedral grounds. There would be no conversation, no socializing, this was a hunt, and he was looking for his prey.

It wouldn't take him long to spot it, either.

Before this man could enter the doors of the chapel, a place where the devil did not wish to tread, a dark shadow would be growing over him. Stalking prey from the shadows wasn't this predators game, he did not have to worry about conversing his energy to chase down his prey. Many of these "warriors" simply came to him, he rarely had to work for their flesh.

As this was a battle ground, no doubt this man knew what a looming presence hanging over him meant.

[Savoki Sanoci]

Drenched from the rain the robust stranger planted himself onto the floor with legs crossed. Clasping tightly onto the water skin, the towering demon looked forward to tasting that oriental alcohol probably originating where all those warriors called those curved swords and performed ritualistic suicides when dishonored. Who knew this cathedral was a fighter's sanctuary, allowing the sake slither down his throat while fights were happening left and right to the foreign newcomer to this place. Although there was no way he wasn't galvanize by the spectacles before him, Muso needed to settle in at least for a bit until he gave out the invitations to their demise.


[ I was heading out very,very soon. I figure this small post will suffice for now.]

[Shockingcat]

TehKouga

"Warriors code?" Lysander questioned, "I must have made you misunderstood something. Then that is my fault, first off, I am neither a barbarian nor a noble man, there is no rules in battle or war, only the meek make such atrocities, only honor and respect along with bloodshed exist on the battlefield. I only wish to see the strength of the guardian of a place of war, if he or she cannot prove themselves, what good are they as protectors? Enough talk, show me that skill I desire to see." Finish speaking, Lysander reached for the spear which rested on his back, at first glance, it would appear to be more of a ornate/ceremonial equipment than a weapon, the shaft appears to be a normal rod with silver as its main color, but as you reached towards the tip, it turns into a semi circle, then the edges of the circle turns into what appears to be triangular like blades, also silver in appearance. Taking the silver spear from his back, and then making a quick twirl over his head before entering into a combat stance with the tip pointing straight at his foe. "I am Lysander, The Guardian of Twilight! Come!"

(feel free to tell me what you don't understand, its been while since I've rped and or wrote stuff)

[ImNoHero]

The pulse pistol would be seen as Bishop aimed it at Dzaek. He would move his arm ever so slightly after aiming it at him, attempting to bluff that he had shot at him with a pulse once again. That when his right side came into the lead again, his right fist cutting through the air, aiming a wretched cestus for the epicenter of Dzaek's face. He didn't bank on hitting him, but he had to do something to ensure he would land himself in a position to absolutely get blasted one more time by the sonic pulse. If he could manage to stun him one more time, he should be able to to end this fight sooner rather than later. Even if he had to take some damage to get the job done.

[TehKouga]

Shockingcat

Wade shrugged, "So dramatic.." And still he did not get into a stance. However, something did happen. The rain around them began to slow to a crawl.. and then halted. Water ran along the length of Lysander's staff, then flew off it and raced towards Wade. The rain was all drawn towards him, and he let his arms fall to his side. The water gathered and pooled, surrounding both hands, up his arms and meeting at his shoulders. He essentially had large gauntlets of water.. but what could water do to a spear?

"Then let's begin." He made several throwing motions, like someone hurling daggers, but he didn't have a weapon in his hands. Rather, the water flew forward, froze, and shot towards him. One, two, then three ice daggers. The water had drained a bit, it went now from his hands to his shoulder but didn't cross his back.

[TehKouga]

ImNoHero

The bluff wasn't a bad idea, for a regular opponent. Dzaek had been waiting for Bishop to shoot, so one hand went to the hilt of the blade at his lower back, the other outstretched, feeling the movement in the air. A sonic pulse emitted sound waves; and sound waves were just vibrations in the air. Even invisible, Dzaek would be able to detect them - or, in this case, the lack thereof. Fire and sound, it was just bad luck that Bishop's opponent had a way to circumvent both.

Then Bishop was moving forward to try to punch him. Since he wasn't phased by the bluff, he had plenty of time to react to this movement. He ducked low and moved forward, underneath the punch. One hand slid his dagger from its sheath; his open hand was prepared for Bishop's gun. At close quarters, the angles involved made a gun almost impossible to use, even one that shot sound instead of bullets. Meanwhile, the hand with the blade shot forward to slash across his chest. The dagger was a 'sword breaker', and had a row of teeth along one side, meant for catching and trapping swords. However, dragged across skin, the sharp points of this blade were more like a serrated knife, cutting and ripping a jagged wound that would bleed and hurt more than a clean cut.

[Charge: 1]

[H l D E O]

The echo of his call reflecting itself until it bounced back towards Hideo. It was eerie as he dropped his right arm, but not before an overcast of blackness would engulf his own and block the overwhelming sun. This would inevitably cause Hideo to return a gaze at whatever object of girth stood over Hideo.

Silence.

Created from something out of a horror, fantasy film Hideo would find himself alluding the shadow as he took a few steps back to grasp the total magnitude of this beast, now, before him. Of course he tensed up instinctively as he tried to focus on the large bone helm that seemed to protrude through the heavens. Hideo only standing at a mere 6 feet as this man's height difference, and how Hideo perceived it, really showed Hideo's perception of measurement. Inside he was in shock, without awe, at the man or beast's size. But judging from the less than developed social skills Hideo gathered only one thing as his right foot slid back and took a pivoting position from his left back heel. His optics fixating on the man as he brought his left hand up, his right hovering just below his left in a curled fist. Flipping the hair from his brow he would retort.

"So your the first of many...good luck"

[Evil Omens]

This man didn't understand the situation he was being placed in.

He wasn't facing a man looking for a sporting match, he was facing a monster looking for a meal. With nothing but a low growl as a warning, Temozariel's massive arms swung inwards, trying to close in around his prey. Should he get this locked in, he would use his infernal strength to squeeze the life of his enemy.

Like a python.

Temozariel cared little for martial arts or for stances and movements, he merely attacked with overwhelming force and attempted to crush his prey before it had a chance to escape him. The devil didn't really want a fight, he wanted an easy meal. But when they did fight, that always seemed to add a certain zesty taste to the meat.

The devil couldn't wait...