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Damrius Felt the blade split his skin, but ingored it. As the blade was leaving his skin, he shifted as such that the point of the blade went a little deeper than the edge, yet Damrius was able to get behind the edge of the katana, the flat of its edge cold against his skin.

Yet, he didn't stop there. His left arm shot up and latched itself in an iron grip on Stephen's elbow, and kept squeezing. He was doing his best to resist cutting it off... yet ripping it off was far more appealing at this moment.

Damrius saw the hand move to slap the blood on him, as had happened to him many times before. As it came for his face, he whirled, his grip tightning on the arm. The base of the hilt on his sword was a dull stud, not sharp, but good for knocked people out with if hit in the head. Yet, this time, as he spun, he was not striking for the head, but for Stephen's kidney.

With his grip still on Stephen's sword arm with Dame's left hand, and Dame spinning to his left, Damrius drove the hilt of his sword down towards the kidney with as much force as possible. If it hit, he would use it as a chance to move away, and if not, he would have no choice but to attempt to counteract the counter to his attack.

As Damrius moved away, he heard the creature talking to Stephen. It was the only reasonable assumption.

Damrius spun as he saw the sword slam into the ground, followed by the red wave. Yet, he only hesitated half a nanosecond before his own sword came up, envoloped in brilliant white lightning, and he would drop into a crouch while bringing the sword up to catch the wave.

As he did so, the earth coming up beneath it in a dust sword came with it, and fluttered in his eyes.

Dumbass. You forgot your sunglasses, child! You NEVER forget your sunglasses!

Damrius growled in his throat, and the voices seemed to shutter into the back of his mind. And he never forgot sunglasses....

Ahh, new shadows in old places.

That was the thing about new Maximos. He was new. Ruuvan and Old Maximos fought day in and day out, the elf knew everything there was to know about the shadowy wraith that Maximos once was. But this new thing...they're barely met. That meant Maximos had a whole new deck of cards to play with, and Ruuvan hadnt seen a one of them.

The first of the name new facets of Maximos announced itself with a clang, the sound of a sword striking a metal pipe. This happened as Ruuvan fell directly into Maximos plan, and his trap. His sword bit deep into Maximos forearm and struck the bone. The bones of Maximos' bandaged and cursed right arm, were and are made of jet black metal, which the elven blade resounded off of. This was why Maximos swung with his right arm.

Beads of black bubbled from the cut, some slipping into bandage, and the seeping across to the blade. It moved unnaturally, like fingers crawling upwards. Needless to say the arm was not severed, not even stunned. Needless to say Ruuvan was not given time to react before the trap was sprung. The arm bent at the elbow, and Maximos fist locked around blade. That would seem like nothing until you realized that his fingers were made of the same black metal, meaning it would be excessively difficult to pull that blade free.

By the time Ruuvan realized this, Maximos was already in motion. He had stepped forward and reached his left arm far down toward Ruuvan's right side as he did so he finished his call.

...Ankokuko!

It wasnt that Maximos shouted it. It was that it echoed in all the shadows in a 30ft radius. And being dark, and a forest, that was alot.

Ruuvan may, just may, if he for some odd reason decided to look down, see the hilt of the weapon that rose from Maximos' shadow as it was cast forward.

He may, just may, see Maximos' hand wrap around it in a reverse grip and send it soaring straight up aiming to cut a deep slash across the elf's chest. True Ruuvan had his left blade but could it really reach across his chest in time to stop an attack it was unlikely he could even see coming.

Ankokuko, was a black katana-esque weapon, and a unique creature in and of itself. It worked the best and sharpest, the more darkness surrounded it. Night had fallen, it was a forest, shadows were everywhere. As it exited its slash regardless of the outcome, a pale violet aura could be seen enrapturing the blade. And regardless of the outcome Ruuvan would feel a ribbon of black and swirling violet chasing the path of the sword attempting to deepen the cut and or shove him back, hard.

The weapons clashed, and without pause, the man came around with intent to slice Dame in across the middle, then up to strike him across the face in rapid succession. Should this end up being effective or otherwise, he intended to kick him backwards with a hard front thrust kick to the middle, which would promptly follow up with a thrust to the man's stomach in attempt to impale him but good.

He remained silent for the moment, not making insults or insane cracks - he was filled with a dark passion and wanted to mess his opponent up with every last inch of his being. His focus was... disturbing...

The dark one saw the grin on Dame's face and managed to pull the kick at the last moment. Off balance, he forced himself to fall forward towards Dame, and as he did so, he simultaneously thrust his weapon at the man to still try and impale him with the weapon. The action would take about a second at most, so if Dame were to come out of this unscathed, he would have to be creative. If he tried to electrify the sword, it would most likely be in vain due to the weapon's new consistency - still, that was a hefty assumption. The dark one was more concerned with causing damage and tormenting the elementalist than his own hide. If he could hit Dame hard, he would be at a decent advantage - or so the dark one intended.

Ruuvan was once again caught in a trap. This wasn't Old Maximos - appearances could be deceiving and all that - it was something else entirely. The elf didn't know this person. Regardless of how this new shadow acted out of combat, in civil situations and such, the only real thing between these two had always been the fighting; their first meeting lead to the complete annihilation of a village by an onslaught of undead warriors. Of course they had a bond near brotherhood from their travels together, but it just wasn't the same. Strange.

Darkness grabbed a hold of his chest making it hard to breath, the sword tearing across his chest, leaving a gash behind, adding to the whole thing. A weapon made of shadow, thriving on shadow, delivering more than just a cut. Ruuvan was thrown back, blood streaming from his new wound. He crashed through undergrowth and through more than a few stray branches, before eventually crumpling to a stop in a small clearing. Dark magic was powerful against living things as it was, but against a follower of the Light it was more.

Both swords were still gripped in his hands, his offensive one yanked free by the force of the dark magic and the strength of his own grip. Blood spattered the front of his leather vest and white undershirt both, framing the new dark swords wound.

A clearing, yes. That's what it was. Too much time spent getting up from the ground and making sure he was still intact, he had no idea where he landed. Moonlight flooded the area, creating a five foot diameter circle of light. Night brought the shadow out to erase the light, but in this place they fought evenly. Maximos' sword would benefit, but Ruuvan would not be completely left in the dark, as it were.

If Maximos had run to keep up with him as he flew through the forest, he would be appearing right now, otherwise he could prepare. Light was faint here, but there was still that presence. He drew on it, focusing on nothing and letting the light fill him. He was waiting, ready to unleash his own new trick.