Just A Traveller

[Shas'El Kellhus]

"And Sprang Forth From Creation, The Three Unintended. That Of The Living, That Of The Unseen, And That Of Death Itself. Each Brought With It A Gift Of Insurmountable Importance. One Brought Fear, One Brought Ignorance, And The Other Brought Humanity." ~GrandMaster Tatlios, Tutor of the First Primary.

It was fitting, that one of the Shas'El was in a city named the City of the Dead. Far too fitting, no doubt, to be a mere coincidence. Noah must of been working his own subtle blend of irony. With a silent prayer, Shas'El Kellhus crossed his body, reached for his pendant, and gently lifted it to his lips, kissing it, in terms of respect for, and acknowledgement of, his Lord and Master. To mention His name alone was prayer enough, and had to be referenced as such; probably why the Order had so many thousands of names for Him. Kellhus found it warmly satisfying to know the Creator himself was watching over him so intimately; he always knew he had a certain luck to him, but the ironies that came to his attention, the subtle coincidences that occured within his life, it was obvious none of it could really be false. He often wondered; was it him alone the Creator watched. Or was it, simply, the way of all Priests of the Order; or worse, all of Humanity?

But, those questions remained far back within his mind. Those are the questions that Humanity faces daily; the far less intellectually trained and challenged, those with that much less faith, those who must find new idols to worship daily. It almost jusitifed what he did for a living. Kellhus sighed, then simply carried on walking; what else was there to do in life? The street he was in was dank and dreary, but crowded with people, so full and exuberant that he was suprised to hear the cities nickname accidently uttered to him by a tradesman too nosy for his own good. So much Life in that which was referred to as Death? Another subtle irony? A visual metaphor for himself, perhaps? He had time to concentrate on the more cryptic interpretations to life later, but for now, he had somewhere to be, and something to do. The body slumped over his shoulder was starting to make his shoulder blades ache; he had to dump it, and soon.

The body was male, mid-30's, early 40's at the very latest. It was impossible to really see, but the pin-prick wound on the side of his throat was enough to kill the man. Powerful venoms on the sharp end of a pin, the weapon of choice by many Shas'Els, gently inserted into the main artery of the throat, the Carotid Artery. It would take no time for the poison to reach the brain, and then the subject would die a sudden, albeit painful, death. If they were awake, and not drunk up to the eyeballs. If anyone asked, his friend was exactly that; drunk beyond belief. Death was so easy to hide, when the people around weren't looking. People generally never panicked, unless there was blood. But, now wasnt the time to think over the methods of his murder, or the last visions and feelings of his now-ended friends life. He had been walking for 20 minutes; plenty far enough to simply dump the body somewhere quiet, hidden away in an alley of the city of Death. Ah, more irony.

And soon, the perfect hiding place came into view. With the hood pulled highly over his face, few asked Kellhus; he seemed unapproachable, the hood acting like a wall between himself and others; perfect when lugging around a dead body. With a sharp turn, much to the angry cries of others in the mob all around him, he quickly slipped into the alley, and walked further down, until the light at the other end simply ceased to be a light, and the people became little more than blurs of life, passing by unexclusively. With a gentle groan, the body was seated on the floor, leaning with his back against the wall. His head bowed forward, so his chin was touching his chest, and an empty bottle slung into his hand, he looked the part perfectly. Only one thing remained; urine. No Brother of the Order would be so disgusting as to urinate on a fresh corpse, though; horse urine had a potent smell, and was particularily disgusting to taste; great in avoiding difficult situations at a dinner table, and directing attention elsewhere. Generally, all Shas'Els carried a bottle. With a flick of his wrist, the bottle was drained on the crotch and legs of the corpse; the smell was strong enough to force even Kellhus to take a step back, just as he had hoped. All was done.

No-one would bother an apparantly drunken man, soaked by his own urine. And, if Kellhus was lucky (it mattered neither way to him), Rats would get to the body before people, and nothing much would be left in terms of identification. Whoever said they were disgusting creatures was vastly mistaken. With a half-sigh, half-laugh, Kellhus stepped back to observe his handiwork. Another job well done...

[Raphael Augustus]

However Kellhus was not alone, nor could he ever truly be. Although the city was called, the City of the Dead, this was because of the surplus in vampires, not because of the lack of activity. The streets were full with inns, markets, and people. Each area was protected by a Guild, and thus, they inforced their own laws. Yet, as always, their was one guild that was above the others, one, while seemingly unpowerful, was infact the strongest. Augustus Guild.

And yet, for some reason, Kellhus had dumped the body against the royal palace. Granted the palace looked like shit, as it was never cleaned, not like it used to. It had come to look much like the buildings around it, dirty, and homeless ridden, though generally they found out long ago, not to stoop around for very long. And yet, their were the eyes, above Kellhus, unnoticable, but their, and then they were gone. Soon word of the traveler had reached the ears of the Guild Master, and he set out to meet the man, for his own soldiers told him, he seemed odd.

Raphael simply slide out of a window, and watched as the man poured urine on the body. Raphael could only raise an eyebrow, he had seen that trick before, infact, he had done it himself several times. Gently he raised a gloved hand to his mouth, and coughed slightly. Not waiting for a reaction from the man, he spoke, though he did make sure to have his right hand reached across his belly, and touch his own swords.

"If I may be so bold to ask, why are you leaving corpes against my home? It seems very rude, and not at all pleasent. The smell will be more than enough to knock out the sense in a few days." One of his eyebrows were raised, and no smile was on his face. He seemed all serious like, though inside, he was slightly laughing to himself. Anywhere, and it would have taken months for the body to have been seen. But not beside the palace.

[Shas'El Kellhus]

The voice that burst from nowhere behind him was neither an unwelcomed suprise, nor an expected event; just like practically every other event in the life of a Brother of the Order, it just 'Was'. A voice was simply the vibration of the particles that made up the air around everybody; how could somebody be suprised by something that was always there? At least, thats what he had grown up believing, told by every Priest and Brother he spoke to. It made sense, too, after a few years. It declimatised you to the suprises that sound often brought with them. It also practically destroyed the very essense of talking; learning the components made speech less of a mystery, less of something that 'just happened', and more of a chore. Another way to keep the Brothers silent.

He had little direction he could verbally go into; apart from questioning the mans Knowledge, which often led down dark paths and difficult questions, and simply fleeing, he could do nothing to justify this situation to the creature behind him. And for now, he wished to avoid direct confrontation and violence with the cities inhabitants; he'd rather have the ability to walk a free man through the city, than slump through the shadows a convict, as usual. So he simply span around, slowly and unaggressively, with his arms stretched slightly out either side of him, palms up; entirely unassuming. The hood of the cloak still hid his face, and identification was of little concern. In an instant, he used everything he was taught to attempt to size up the man before him. The most striking factor was his right hand, resting against the blade; a penchant for violence, one willing to do whatever is necessary. One showing no fear. Good.

"Against your home? My friend here was simply resting against the closest premises to his current location. Do you presume ownership of a single house is to mean ownership of the land around the house? Surely, this land here is public property. I am the public, as is he.." With the tip of his boot, he gently prodded the corpse beside him. He spoke as if the Man still lived, of course, not out of a belief that he did; more-so, to keep anybody too nosy for their own good out of the conversation, and away from any form of panic or hysterics. "Now, if you would kindly step aside, good Sir, I shall take my leave.." His head lowered the slightest inch, his root foot stepping back, his left, forward. Although his hands were still outstretched, away from his blade, he would still be ready, if the situation called for readiness...

[Raphael Augustus]

Raphael shoke his head, a slight smile that appeared across his face. The man amused, though that didn't take a lot of hard work. The vampire was always easily amused, and showed it, by laughing slightly. Not a big boming laugh, but sort of sober and more of a gentleman's giggle. However, than man was trying to leave the body here, and that was something Raphael couldn't allow. Removing his right hand from the weapon, he held it up and then pointed it at the corpse.

"You may leave," Glaring then at Kellhus. "As soon as you take shit-for-brains with you, you can then be off. But as to your previous question, yes, it is infact MY alleyway, and that is infact MY house that you are leaning him against, so you are infact leaving him on MY property." Raphael made sure to amplify with each 'my' that he spoke. His glare was harsh, and yet, his smile was still there.

He studied the figure a little more, with his arms outward, and pointing up. Though Raphael was certain the he had a either an angel blade, or a mini crossbow hidden up his sleeves, most assassin did, and Raphael had his own stars up his. Yet it was his body postition, like a cat ready to fight, he was that much ready, and Raphael knew it. Respecting ones enemy was the reason Raphael was still alive, that, and just being crazy. He assumed, though, that the man wanted to leave, and now, but not without the smelly corpse.

"Look here, assassin, I enjoy a good killing as much as the next man. But killings around my palace are unwanted." He made sure to jerk his thumb to point at the building shouldering to his right. "My house my rules, your corpse, move it. I don't want to be difficult, but trust me, I can be. So, I will ask like a gentleman people so carelessly throw about, Please move it." He said with a wink and a smile.

[Shas'El Kellhus]

He let out a sigh, closed his eyes, and simply shook his head. This individual was going to be annoying; that much was already clear, even before the man started making ridiculous demands, and even worse claims to ownership. No single man could claim to own land; all belonged to Noah. ownership of land, according to the Order, was impossible, unless; "Premises, in the form of buildings and structures, sit upon the land itself". No other land was permitted, except that inside the structures, and the structures themselves. Everything outside was free to traverse, public property. But, the Order wasnt as widespread as it should be, and those ideals were obviously none existing to such an uncivilised area as this. He sighed again, and gently opened his eyes, choosing not to argue the point about land ownership any further..

"If the corpse was indeed mine to own, then I would happily moved it from 'your' land. But, as you can see, I am here, standing, and the corpse is there, lying down. I am not the corpse, and the corpse is not me. It is not within my ownership. Your house, your alleyway, your rules.. Your problem.." The visible mouth suddenly cut a dark smile from his lips; he wasnt going to argue the matter much further. And although the individual infront of him did look somewhat talented with a weapon, and of a far higher social status than Kellhus could ever achieve, he didnt want another corpse lying beside this one. If this man was important, his blood on Kellhus' hands would seriously hinder his efforts in this War.

"Now, I'll ask you again. If you would kindly step aside, I shall allow you go get back to your efforts of cleaning up your fresh corpse. If you start now, you'll finish all that much quicker.." He smirked, his hands falling now to his sides, as he took a step forward. He was giving the man a chance to finish this conversation, end it where it was, and not where it was going to go; as much for the mans sake, as for Kellhus' own..

[Raphael Augustus]

Raphael shook his head, he could tell the man was stuborn, and clearly thought himself better than everyone else. Undoubtedly one of the religious patrons, their were to many out their to count. But his eyes now showed no sign of amusment, only annoyance (not a real word I know). He arched an eyebrow when the man plain out right stood against him, Raphael knew this would not head to a very well liked conclusion.

From what he could gather, the man was undoubtedly an excellent fight. Skilled with a blade, and a moral ideal. That made him dangerous. However, Raphael had counts against him, one he was older, and thus had more skill, two he was stronger, since he was a vampire, and three he was faster, as his training only amplified his potental. And four, he was a Scorned One, as he had decided to feast upon demon blood. He was self assured of the out come.

"Listen here, friend. Their are two ways this can go down. One," Clenching his fist, he held up one finger. "The corpse leaves the same way it entered, on your shoulders. By arriving that way, that meant that you have a responsiblity to the corpse to see it away, know matter how much you think otherwise. Or two," He held up another finger. "I play dirty, summon my guards and have you join him. We out number you, and I would only be more than happy to fight ya." Oh, and five, he had back-up. With that he cracked his neck.

"Trust me pal, I have been itching for a worthy foe, but not for an annoying one. You may think I don't want to make 'enemies', but I'll tell ya right now, I don't really care." The ball was now in Kellhus' court, he could either move the corpse, or he could fight against unfair odds. Raphael so loved playing against the rules. A smile appeared then, hinting to as just how much trouble Kellhus would be in for should he refuse.

[Shas'El Kellhus]

Kellhus nodded gently. His expression, that which was visible, showed one of understanding, after considering the points for and against. He shrugged, then turned back to his corpse. Taking a few steps towards the body, he crouched down, and leaned towards the dead man. He patted the cheeks of the larger mans corpse beside him, then grinned, whispering not to the dead man, but to Noah himself.

"May the Lord grant mercy on those who dare question the Order. May the Creator take mercy on the blade that dares answer the question of Heretics. May Noah take mercy on my soul, Shas'El Kellhus; your eyes, your blade, your voice. Amen.." Kellhus crossed himself gently, then placed another kiss onto the pendant around his neck. As he stood, his hand reached round to his back, and slid the blade out of the sheath on his back, the ringing noise filling the alleyway, and echoing along the cold, wet walls. Kellhus turned once again to face the man, taking in his surroundings as he did so.

The alleyway was tight, considering the normal outside world, and his Primary within the walls of the Cathedral was the Circle of Life and Death. With applied concentration, he could mentally picture the Circle that surrounded his body; the reach of his blade. The Circle was a hard concept to understand; that everyone had a Circle of Life and Death that surrounded them, the reach of their current weapon, and that if anything broke into that Circle, it would go known to anyone who was truly connected to their own Circle; be them awake, asleep, blind, whatever. Any intrusion was detected, any intruder removed as soon as possible. The Circle Primary also meant his reactions were attuned tightly to his Circle; he didnt need to think to strike, as the strike came before the thought. Tight Conditions, a well-trained student of the Circle was able to take on many times his own number. The past had showed this; with enough Circle students, whole armies would fall, just like the Invasion of the Santiamos Cathedral by the Heretics, well over five-hundred years ago. Their sitaution was tighter, their means far more dire, but then and now were practically the same; Kellhus needed to survive this encounter, without the corpse over his shoulder.

"If it must be, it must be. May the Circle guide you, Child, the same way as it does me." He lowered his head slightly, showing the utmost respect even in such a situation as this. He seemed ready to go until the end; such fervour only a religion could really attain within a man. And the religious fanatics were always the hardest enemies to kill. "I just hope your Guards are as skilled as you say they are. Either way. I wont be leaving this place with that corpse.." He grinned subtley. Victory was practically assured now. Killed, the man before him would simply gain another corpse to dispose of. To win, meant he would simply dissolve into the shadows around him, and the blame of all these deaths would fall onto no-one.

[Raphael Augustus]

Raphael laughed, looking skyward, he told the guards to stay put. He need to amuse himself for awhile. He had heard the silent prayer the man had spoke, and heard the name Noah repeated. He know knew for certain he was pawn of a god. Then again, weren't they all? He gently thought about it, weighing the cost of one life against another. However, honor was at stake here, and to be truthful, that was what really matter in this shitty place. But it was his shitty place, and he would not be disgraced by a meer human, no matter what god he prayed to.

"The Creator only blesses those who know when to fight for themselves, and not for some excuse of a reason."

He nodded his head then, drawing out his broadsword with his right hand. The broadsword, when pulled, seemed to spill out blood. As though it had already cut a wound, deep and deadly. However, soon it spilled to only a few droplets. What Kellhus would be unaware of, was the battle of wills that Raphael had to deal with, before he fought. He had to be the master, not the sword, for it longed for blood. Though what Kellhus could be assured of was that one hit would cause something like the bite of a vampire. Though this happened in the span of a second, it seemed top dwindle like minutes.

Finally, he reached out with his left hand, glasping the dagger that was under the scabbard of the broadsword. Holding it in main-gauche form, he spun it around in his hand. Frost seemed to coat the dagger in ice, yet the silver blade only gleamed more in the unpolished light.

Still in main-gauche form with it, he slowly stalked Kellhus, his left arm forward, and his broadsword held down and back. His face was one of concentration, yet his steps were like a stork, picking his spots were he would stand. He also made sure his left shoulder was to Kellhus, making him a smaller target. Granted the other man could still through a dagger, but he was prepared for an ariel assualt. He was coming closer, but had to see how Kellhus would react.

[Shas'El Kellhus]

Kellhus took a deep breath. No point rushing into anything; the Circle was a strong defensive tactic, incredibly anti-attack, just like alot of the other forms of swordsmanship taught by the Order; few really promised a strong attack, as that would simply result in head-strong Brothers killing just because they can, not because they had to. His sword arm fell almost limp, as the blade lowered just to his left side, held tightly within his right hand. His left hand also lowered, as it slid down the hilt, and onto the top of the blade, just below the hilt. His hand tightened around it, as if acting as a make-shift sheath; sometimes, people got too used to drawing from a sheath, and not from thin air. He stayed facing his foe directly, unlike Raphaels sidewards stance.

Kellhus' own circle had changed ever so slightly with the movement of his feet; his stance decreased his reach behind him somewhat, but increased that infront of him, and to either side. With a simple calculation, the reach of both of Raphaels weapons was roughly obtained, and two similar circles began spinning around Raphael. As soon as the two crossed, the fight would begin. Kellhus took one more deep breath. He needed some sort of plan; this man wasnt his target, and he had no rights to end his life. His death would play no advantage to the Order, and could prove disasterous in the future. Yet he couldnt simply run from the fight; he had too much pride.

And then it happened; he felt his circle collide with anothers. It felt like a sudden impact of an immense force into his torso, as if he had collided full speed into a wall; the way it always felt, ever since his Tutor would hit him with a metal staff to teach him of the Circle, his eyes closed, his ears muffled. Only through detection of the breakage could be avoid the hit. Or, better, strike back. Before a thought of the pain had even entered his mind. his left hand released the blade, and the sword shot forward in a sudden arc. He purposefully, without thought, pulled back on the blade as it swung outwards, dragging it downwards. The slash, rather than a diagnolly upwards attack aimed at the throat, as per usual, became a straight-across strike at the stomach of his target. The blade, hit or not, was pulled back just to his side, ready to strike again, if need be...

[Raphael Augustus]

Raphael watched it all, silently applauding the younger man's movements and skill with the blade. Undoubtedly he though their were rules in engagement, unlike Raphael, who's rules were. "What a man can and cannot do." Flipping around, he switched shoulders, so that he brought his left hand behind him, and his right hand before him. With a breath, he leaped. Not at Kellhus though, but to his left. Planting a foot on the wall he jumped again, though using the leverage to push him skyward and left. Catching a ledge with his foot, he then once again dove for Kellhus, though attacking from above.

In the process of the moving up, he had shoved his dagger in it's sheath, and from his hand, three stars could be seen. One on three of his fingers, and with a flick of his wrist. He through them, each aimed for a certain part of Kellhus. One for the throat, one for the stomach, and one for the groin. The stars were like spinning silver, four pointed, and unnoticable unless seeing them from the side. And each one was poisoned. Raphael himself could careless about poison, as he was missing a working circulatory system, but to any other creature it was deadly.

Once they were free, which took only seconds, he was bringing his right hand down with his arming sword in place. He made sure to arch his arm, so that the elbow was bent, and ready to pull back. Only a fool extended it all out. And then, with a whisper from his mind, he made the blade leak again. And blood rained from the thing, from on high. Granted some hit Raphael glove, but he paid it little mind.

[Shas'El Kellhus]

His sword arm brought back, he was in a position to quickly move, to adjust his stance when and wherever necessary; for example, amoment just like this. The Circle didnt just covr infront of him, it escalated in all directions, defending him from any attack. Even if he tried to look up, the blood would catch his sight, or his hood would make it impossible; he was taught to rely on teaching, though, and not simply what he could see with easily-decieved eyes. Pulling his right arm back even further, he stepped two steps backwards, swigning his balance so the backwards steps soon lurched sidewards, until his back hit against the damp stone wall behind him. The three throwing stars clashed against the floor almost directly after him; a timely dodge indeed.

As the blood rained down from above, slightly tinting his shoulders and the top of his hood red, Raphael came falling down not long afterwards, landing almost directly infront of Kellhus, his Longswords blow hitting the space where Priest once stood, not when he did stand. Of course, pressed against the wall, the intrusion into his Circle was difficult to react to, but he managed it well enough. His right arm was pressed against the wall, the hilt of his weapon still tightly locked in his grasp, there was little room to maneveur, and even less time to think about it. He made of the situation what he could.

As Raphael had just landed, no doubt his balance would still be momentarily re-alligning itself to the flat ground. Kellhus shot forward, his left shoulder aiming to collide hard with Raphaels right shoulder, and force Raphael off balance, and towards the opposite wall to the one Kellhus was just against; the arm holding the weapon was the real target, making any counter-attack difficult, seeing as Kellhus was standing practically beside him. Pulling back with his right arm, as soon as some distance was managed between them, a thrust from his right hand was aimed at whatever part of Raphael Kellhus could see; depending on the previous shove, and how Raphael reacted, where the blade hit was anybodies game. And, due to the tight space, little could really be done against either Kellhus' attack of Raphaels possible counter.

[Raphael Augustus]

Raphael grunted when he hit the ground, a smile spread across his face. Atleast his oppenent was smart enough to move, that would have really spoiled the fight. Anyother untrained warrior would have tried to drive his sword into the under belly of the assassin, but would have been meet with the blood, pouring from above. He was more than pleased that Kellhus had moved, though, as it meant the fight would go on, and thus Raphael would have some fun. As he landed, Raphael, putting an extra bounce in his legs, he quickly shot up. Locking his legs, he brought his dagger forward again, right shoulder back.

He then caught sight of the man moving, he was not sure of the exact tactic, but he felt like he would soon bull ruch the vampire. So he had to move, and fast, luckily for Raphael, he already knew his next move. As Kellhus charged the assassin, Raphael invoked his ancient form of stealth. By casting Shadow's Embrace he removed himself from Kellhus eyes. One second, Kellhus was charging and getting ready to stab at clearly seen object, the next second, this object vanishes from sight. Just gone.

Not waiting to see if Kellhus was surprised by the move or not, Raphael quickly stepped to the left (as he figured Kellhus was aiming for his right). His weapon's didn't seem to give off any signal were he was, finally he attack. He jammed his sword forward, though still arching his arm, hoping to catch his enemy as he would fly past an unmoving object. Kellhus' sword went into the remaining area that Raphael had just left. Not waiting to see if the sword connected, he drew his dagger out to slash the back of Kellhus' neck. As he was slashing, his invisiablitiy wore out, and he could again be seen.

[Shas'El Kellhus]

Vanishing into the shadows was a simple parlour trick used by would-be Assassins to avoid enemies too skilled for them to truly sneak past, or simply take out. Or, so he had thought; his enemies was far superior to any he had seen beore, though, and it did knock the Warrior-Priest offguard somewhat. He knew his foe would move to dodge the incoming blow, so he immediately called off the thrust; his puleld his right blade-arm back towards his body; the abandoning through the maneveur took concentration to perform, as a Brother of the Order never had to truly 'stop' an attack, they saw things through to the end. The lapse of concentration, coupled with the suprise of his vanishing foe, meant his enemies Circle had entirely faded away; unless Raphael entirely bounded into, and broke, Kellhus' own circle, it would be difficult to really detect the Man, unless his concentration could be re-grounded.

But the forward strike sent by Raphael gave enough information to settle his fears. Raphael expected Kellhus to continue the attack, and thus, where the blow struck was where kellhus would of been, if it hadnt been called off at the last moment; a close shave. He didnt need to see the blade, or its holder, to get a rough estimate of the mans position; the swishing of a blade through the air, cutting into his circle, was information enough, to get at least a slightly accurate position on his enemy. As soon as the dagger came in, albeit somewhat unexpected, he was at least ready to defend against the attack.

With Raphael standing to his right, the dagger was aimed roughly at his head-height. His right arm was, luckily, holding his blade, and a quick step back and to the side gave him enough time to lift up his blade arm, and catch the dagger; the block wasnt exactly fantastic, the strike too fast to get the blade fully up in time, the dagger simply clipping the swords blade, and deflecting off it, luckily away from his foe. Then it was decided; Raphael was using his tricks, so why not Kellhus. Clenched his left fist, he threw a well-aimed roundhouse punch at his foes head; yet, as his fist clenched, it became clear it wasnt simply a punch. An 8 inch blade struck out from his robes sleeve, stil connected to his arm, attached by some mechanism of other; acting as a dagger of sorts, the blade was aimed directly for the vampires head, and the sudden appearance of the weapon was no doubt a shock, even slightly, to someone expecting just a simple punch...

[Raphael Augustus]

Raphael had truly hoped to get the jump on Kellhus on that one, but the assassin was faster than Raphael gave him credit for. Stopping his thrust forward was hard work for the human, as momentum was a killer. Raphael's own sword swushed past, he was not even sure if he clipped any sort of clothing. Though most of this happened, after the dagger strike, and Raphael's own quick mind was reacting to each new thing. Kellhus would be more than a challenge, but he would still be at a disadvantage. He saw the palm move out, towards where the vampire's head was. How dare the human try to damage his good looking face, he thought with a smirk.

However, Raphael was already moving, and when his dagger bounced of Kellhus' sword, he was using the momentum to spin. He spun, however, he came down, crossing his ankles. This way the dagger only ran through Raphael's white hair, which was still falling. Several strands cut off, which was a slight annoance to Raphael. However, the vampire was now below the waist, though he could feel the air go by. His grey eyes seemed to get a closer look at Kellhus, seeing various other attactments to him. But Raphael knew it was time to act.

He was not standing, very far from Kellhus, only about a arms reach or so away. Raphael then knew what he had to do, and jumped. However, this was only to get him into a spin. Rolling on the ground, tucking his legs into his chest. He attempted to trip up Kellhus, however, undoubtedly the man would avoid such an attack, he seemed to be able to react to almost everything. Raphael knew this would go on for a long time, and all over the thought of one of the other men moving a corpse. Though the vampire was mainly doing it for the shear amusment of it all. His sword in his right hand, and dagger in the other, come what(ever) may.

[Shas'El Kellhus]

((Hope you dont mind.. The middle paragraph slightly powerplays, but it is to your advantage, so...))

Raphael collided hard into the legs of Kellhus, sending the Warrior-Priest tumbled forward towards the mucky ground below. But, no warrior of the order was ever confined to the ground by a single enemy; the blade from his sleeve slid back into place, another mechanism, and his other hand dropped the blade just behind Raphael; now, using his free hands as a springboard, he managed to flip the rest of his body over, his movements much like a cartwheel. What started as a fall, then became a carefully-choreographed flip, that looked as if it had been planned all along. Kellhus landed unsteadily, but soon regained his footing, and span to meet his enemy.

Raphael was standing now, and as soon as their eyes locked, the heat in each of them began burning brightly again. Kellhus knew he wasnt fighting an ordinary human; it was impossibly so. Yet, surely, Raphael had realised that Kellhus was far more than he seemed; the best of whatever Priesthood he had emerged from. A quick glance down, and Kellhus knew Raphael had taken the advantage; the vampries right foot now rested on the hilt of the Priests sword, clamping it to the ground. Yet, the Order were never backed into a corner; there was always a way around the inevitable, if you looked hard enough.

Kellhus bowed his head, so the hoods shadow now eclipsed his entire face. His two arms crossed just infront of his stomach, the inside wrist of one touching the outside wrist of the other; each hand has clenched into a fist, with the palms facing Kellhus. "It seems this fight is between more than just two normal men, yes?" his voice spoke, the shadows of the hood hiding his lips; with this, the vocie seemed to come from all over, everywhere at once. Ventriloquism, the ability to throw ones voice. A priceless gift to all assassins. He had little else to say. Striking meanlessly wasnt helping him. He needed to perform something far more outrageous..