[RPBT:SS] Mystro Kajiki v. John Henry Westhead

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CassinoChips

CassinoChips

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Setzer's Tent
A city reminiscent of the Early Renaissance period in Europe. It is empty, the theoretical residents seemingly having disappeared overnight. Small, narrow cobblestone streets with row upon row of two-story houses and shops placed uncomfortably close to one another. Back alleys cut haphazardly between random houses. At various points throughout the city, large central plazas open up, with varying layouts to each. At the center of the city is a large Gothic cathedral, its spire towering above the rest of the city.
 
It was 30 minutes after the sunset...30 minutes since he reverted back into a normal human. Fortunate for Mystro, it was the waxing moon, so the toll on his body wasn't as bad as it could be, but either way, he was tired. He found himself in a town, wondering if anyone had noticed him when he was lurking the night. If so, things could get messy.

At the moment, his swords were tucked in under his belt so he didn't have to carry them. in his hands. All the buildings were so close together, it made the town seem congested. Either way, Mystro had to find somewhere to sleep. Despite having the power of a dragon, it also meant that the nature of his changes require he sleep during the day from sunrise to about 2 in the afternoon.

Not liking the idea of finding an inn due to the possibility that he may have been seen as a dragoon here, he stumbled upon an open plaza. The ground was mostly stone, but it could do for a fine resting place. He took a spot against the wall of a building and laid down next to it. With his hands behind his head, cushioning from the stone ground, he closed his eyes. Like any normal person, it would take a few minutes to fall asleep.
 
Interloper.

Force's eyes snapped open as his senses registered the presence of the intruder. His sleep had been fitful and short, as per usual, haunted by dreams of the tormented wretches he had sent into the Abyss. Tortured and abused, he saw their wrecked visages staring hopelessly at him every time he closed his eyes. Their screams prevented him from ever reaching a deep, restful sleep. Not that he needed much sleep any more.

Stirring his massive frame, Force put on his breastplate and scabbarded his Zweihander, making startlingly little noise considering the sheer amount of metal surrounding his body. Force made his way to the plaza nearest the cathedral in the center of the town. It always seemed to draw visitors like moths to a flame. Or lambs to the slaughter, depending on how one wanted to interpret the situation.

Upon arriving in the square, Force spotted a man dressed in white clothing laying alongside of one of the buildings, his arms behind his head, pillowing it from the roughness of the stone. He gave the strangely pale man a quick assessment, noting no apparent weaponry on his person. He did not seem to be an immediate threat. But he was an intruder on Force's village. And Force could not abide his trespassing.

Doing his best to approach the reclining figure silently, Force approached. As he got within range he thrust his hand downward, aiming for the pale one's throat. It would not be a crushing blow, should it hit, but it would certainly cause no small amount of discomfort. Force wanted to question the man's intentions before killing him. One could never have enough information.
 
While Mystro had been laying down, he began to officially doze off. He was not asleep just yet, but he was also unaware of his surroundings. His eyes were closed and the world was fading into a new land full of limitless possibilities when he was interrupted. He hadn't even realized the sound of footsteps coming his way, but he soon became aware but a hand coming down with force and gripping Mystro's neck. An armored man, clearly a tough man as well, had gripped Mystro by the neck.

Now fully awake, Mystro was in much discomfort. Judging from the situation, Mystro figured it was a bad idea to reach for either of his swords. With someone holding him by the neck, there was always the possibility that he could have his own windpipe closed as a a retaliation to an obvious attempted attack. Instead, Mystro chose to try and find a way to get out of this mans grip. He only had one idea of how to do this.

An irritating sound wave. Mystro had the very helmet on the mans head vibrate at a frequency that even irritated Mystro's ears. It was extremely high pitched. He had hoped this would work, else he would have to see the intentions of this person who seemed to be quite a threat.
 
Just as Force was about to lift the slender man up from off the ground, he felt a buzzing in his helm. He ignored it, figuring it was just a hornet or some other nuisance of an insect. Let the blaggard sting him then. But as quickly as that thought entered and left his mind, the helm started vibrating against his skull. Force heard a high-pitched noise that seemed to emanate from the helm itself. Releasing his grip on the man in a hurry, Force swept the helm off his head and inspected it. Nothing was causing the helm to vibrate. It was as if the very metal itself could not hold still. Force had the feeling that the stranger was the cause of this.

"Who are you and why are you in my city? More importantly, why shouldn't I kill you?"
 
Now Mystro was freed from the mans grip. At first, the sound didn't seem to effect him, but after a second or two, it had worked. Gasping slightly for air, Mystro took up his swords. "I am a wanderer and there is no reason you should kill me." What a bother. Mystro was tired from the night before and he just wanted to sleep, but he tried his best not to show it. His eyes were still showing the weight of a sleepless man and Mystro could not mask it. Usually his porcelain mask covered up any emotions on his face, but no matter how he wore it, he could not hide the look in his eyes.

Judging from the sheer size of the man, taking a defense could knock him back, but taking offense would be like hitting a rock. Mystro decided to save his energy and pose defensively. Knowing it would be a hard battle, he instantly decided to make his blades sing their metal melody of war. He was making it be barely visible and at small detail. He had to reserve his energy. He then posed to be prepared for impact, but he would keep a keen eye for an opening to attack.

"But there is also no reason you shouldn't..."
 
As the vibration of his helm stopped and the ringing in his ears subsided, Force watched as the pale man rose to his feet and drew two swords while assuming a defensive stance. It was a clear sign to Force that the man was prepared to fight. Not that a lack of preparation on his part would have stopped Force from killing him.

"You are trespassing. That is reason enough."

Drawing his Zweihander, Force charged the man head-on, covering the short the short distance between them within mere moments. He held the pommel of his greatsword at his right hip and thrust parallel to the ground, aiming for the intruder's midsection.
 
Prepared for a powerful blow from this tower of a man, but even having braced himself properly his attempt to parry the blow coming to him, he knew if he didn't move then he would earn himself a serious wound. his defense was a mixture of a parry and a dodge to his left side, but he still could not avoid the blow entirely. He didn't feel it, but he knew it happened because he felt a warm liquid start to drip from his right hip. He knew moving at all would cause pain, but he wasn't about to be a sitting duck.

Despite the pain, Mystro then made the sword in his right hand sing loudly, while dulling the one in his left. At the same time, he swung a pained slash, weakening his uppercut, but because of it's vibrations, getting cut could still hurt. With his left sword, he put it across his body in case of an attack. This man was strong and maybe taking a defense wasn't a smart idea. To prevent taking blows, Mystro figured he had best stay offensive. The only bad thing was that he could not rely on the speed of his abilities due to the natural fatigue from the lack of sleep. Using Sound Demon would be a bad choice, but it was always a last resort...
 
Recovering quickly from his attack, Force regained his balance and caught the flash of movement portending the pale man's forthcoming attack. It was somewhat weak, so Force made the decision to absorb the blow instead of wasting energy trying to dodge it. He felt his breastplate shudder unexpectedly as it took the brunt of the slash. The singing blade bit deeper into the metal than a regular sword would have, and Force staggered back a pace at the strength of the blow.

In a quick moment, he appraised his foe. Apparently, the man was able to manipulate matter in some fashion, making it vibrate according to his will. It was an interesting ability, and one that Force had never seen or heard of before. No matter, he thought to himself. He will die like all the rest, special ability or no.

Taking a quick step forward to close the space between them yet again, keeping his enemy within the deadly striking distance of Force's mass, he swung a gauntleted right fist, aiming for the man's side where his Zweihander had drawn first blood only moments before.
 
Mystro was relieved to see the vibrations of his blade had helped him. He knew it wouldn't do much damage, and he didn't expect his strength to startle a giants, but none the less, he was pleased. But right now, he had to take on another defense. He could see his enemies fist coming toward him and it was headed for Mystro's wound. Mystro had a low tolerance for pain, and he knew it, so he tried to get out of the way of the fist, but instead his motions caused the blow to land in his abdominal area.

Suddenly finding it hard to breathe, Mystro realized that is motions didn't help much at all. The impact still forced blood out of his wound and even knocked Mystro back about 2 meters. This man was as strong as he looked. But that wasn't all. Mystro had the wind knocked out of him, which mixed the difficulty to breathe with trouble moving. As a result, for the moment, he was like a fish in a barrel, so he had to get away. Releasing a sound wave like a small explosion from the air, Mystro grabbed onto it and traveled to the roof of the furthest building, but still in the same Plaza. He had to regain his composure.

However, that ability was not meant to be used when one is already tired. The mixture of making such a high volume sound wave and riding it made his gasping for air more intense. It also left his ears ringing. All I wanted was some shut-eye...
 
Force watched, impressed, as the pale man seemingly levitated to the roof of one of the small buildings that encircled the central square. For a moment, he considered unhooking his twin chakra and attacking the roof from where he stood. But even an injured man would have been able to dodge the circular blades if Force threw them from this distance. Instead, Force sheathed his Zweihander and took off at a sprint toward the front door of the building upon which the man stood.

The majority of the residents and shop owners in this city had fled during the night of the Holocaust. Those who had remained out of fear of the unknown or some distorted sense of loyalty to their hometown had virtually barricaded themselves inside their homes. The previous residents of this location were no exception. Lowering his shoulder, Force threw his massive bulk into the cedar door and felt it explode into shards and splinters as he barreled through. Tossing pieces of furniture and broken wood out of his way, Force located the ascending staircase and made his way upward.

Stepping out onto the rooftop, Force unsnapped his bagh nakh and slipped on the spiked fist weapons. Swinging a sword on a slanted rooftop would make it hard to maintain balance. Realizing that the man had had a few moments to regain some strength while Force had reached the roof, Force approached cautiously, fists at the ready.
 
Mystro was not surprised to see the man charge into the building he was standing on. The mans strength was phenomenal for a human, but then again, so was his size. "Damn!" Mystro blurted out. Had it been the sunset he could try holding his defense until his transformation would take place, but there was no hope of his dragoon bloodline saving him now. If he wanted to live, he would have too push it to the max, and he knew just the technique to do so. He considered it an assassination technique.

With the lack of energy, Mystro had one shot and one shot only, no matter how you looked at it, so the hit had to be all he had. Keeping a keen eye and ear for where the man might pop up, Mystro had finally regained his entire composure other than the burning pain from his two wounds. There was no doubt a great amount of internal bleeding. He knew this because he began to taste a mixture of saliva and blood that had crawled it's way up his throat.

He quickly saw the giant come up, and Mystro instantly faced him, both swords forward. Because of the nature of this technique, the roof did not matter, but after the blow landed, it wouldn't be a surprise to Mystro if he fell off when finished, if he lived. This was his last hope. He pointed the sword in his right hand to where the mans heart should be, and the other to the mans right side of his rib cage. Creating a deafeningly loud sound wave, Mystro grasped it with a single finger and rode it, attempting to very quickly drive his blades into the mans body. They were no longer vibrating, but it could kill the average man. The porcelain mask fell off of hid head from the speed of Mystro's motions. Mystro knew, if this attack failed, he would die here this morning...

What an unfortunate place for a wanderer to stumble upon.
 
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