- 3,321
- 1,833
~ Narrative ~
(Scroll down for the match)
This is a night-story. A tale of terror, if you might; not for the faint of heart, nor those of a weak disposition. This is a small, bloody tale about the encounter of two night-fiends, devilry-spawned monsters whose cries echo in the night. There are no winners here, for, as merciful for the world it shall be that only one will escape alive from this conflict, the winner will become more powerful than ever, growing in evil and might.
As with many of such stories, this one began with a boom. The boom of thunder, streaking light across the starlit, ebon sky. Roads ill-traveled for those who had prudence, those were roads off the beaten path, through dense spruce woods that, even in the brightest of day, seldom let the sun's rays penetrate. The rich soil was often covered in leaves and all manner of strange fungi that grew on rotting logs and where small streams fled from the earth. Despite such idyllic scenario for a rich plethora of life, few were the animals found there, and those that did wander about, wandered with a scared disposition and alert, fear-maddened eyes, as if they fled from some unknowable, ever-present threat.
The accursed path led to a gothic building off the road, of stone archways and decaying rock that, even split and uneven on the smallest details - to the displeasure of the observant mind - was still far larger and nobler than it should be. Maybe it was the empty, judgemental gaze of gargoyles that bore on those below, or maybe it was all the sharp, grey lines that made the upper towers and edifices of the castle. Nonetheless the cause, no one that wandered there did so without feeling crushed by the oppressive aura about that castle.
But alas! Today was a most grim day, and not even the worms of the earth dared to come close to the castle, and the stars themselves seemed occluded by a dark fog that figured about the castle. Within, lamps and candelabra illuminated hallways, chambers and rooms of all sizes and purposes, and the usually prepared, stoic servants that ambled within were now with a terrified visage, their vision doubling, their natural instincts screaming at them to flee. But they didn't. They daren't. For the two beings at the dinner table would surely hunt them down, as eagles did to the defenseless rabbit.
Two monsters in the shape of men. Pale, gaunt, strong, regal yet unnerving, those two men dined on fine culinary native from distant Hungary. One of them was lithe, tall, reaching into the respectable age of men who had done enough in life, whilst still carrying the strength and spark of youth. The other was aristocratic, old; still strong, larger than the other man in shoulder and in stature, with a long, wisened hair and beard, dressed in furs and clothes far more ornamented than theones of the man before him.
Yet, they were not men. Not at all. Around them, an almost sickly miasma of death and blood existed. They were masters of the night that had lived through centuries of human history, nd no man could ever kill them. They were undead. They were immortal. They were those that stalked in the night.
They were vampires.
"Baron Bela Rakosi." The older man stated, each syllabe spoke as if he savoured his words, after a pause. "I did not expect for you to find my new abode, much less to travel all the way here. I thought your journey to that upstart nation, America, had gone well."
At that, Rakosi's smile was both gracious and devilish, the perfect mix that defined what was to be a vampire.
"It went well enough. I learned much from my stay there, and in time, I will return. However, much like you, I found... Unexpected problems. An adversary unlike none I had met to this day. Surely you can relate, Count Dracula, with your little stunt in England." At that, Dracula's brow stiffened. If any servant had dared to endure the presence of those two beings, surely they would have fainted at the sudden outburst of violent energy.
"What is it you desire, Rakosi? If you came here only to exchange insults, you would have done better to stay in America. Here, we do not tolerate so easily the disrespect of hospitality."
Rakosi barked with dry laughter, and his response was concise:
"If you cannot endure a simple exchange of banter without taking offense, I ought to reconsider my idea! I thought you'd be interested in a fomal match, for the blood of the other." At that, Dracula's eyes slited slightly.
"You desire to challenge me to a duel, Rakosi? For my power? Do you realise the implications of this?"
"I do." Rakosi stated firmly, looking Dracula in the eye. An unnatural gaze, both of them clashing in a brief stare that normal humans would've knelt to, if forced to watch. "We both have ambitions, objectives, and we require more power. Vengeance against those who defeated us. Power to conquer. Finally crush the opposition and the other great, hidden powers of the world. I know your fame, and you must have known my exploits. If we duel to each one's powers, the ashes, the blood of one will be part of the other, and the resulting darkness would envelop all opposition. I require power, and no other fiend has proved to be as apt as you are. Will you accept?"
"As much as I'd have accepted the feces of a rat to drink upon in place of the blood of a man." Dracula replied dryly. "I won't waste my time with an upstart like you, who does not understand either courtesy, nor the risk he takes by coming within and challenging the lord of this household."
In a violent push from the chair, Rakosi stood up, and bared his fangs at Dracula. A cold, shrill wind swept over the courtains and cracked windows, and many a servant shook with the sudden strength of the wind, and Dracula's gaze as intent on Rakosi's own eyes, unmoving. Rakosi's voice echoed, unnatural and echoing
"Be careful, Dracula. To deny my proposal is one thing - to scorn me is another! I am Bela Rakosi, the night obeys when I command and the powers of the mind are unraveled before me! The wind goes as I tell it to, and not even the champions of man could match against me! Apologize, or my fury will strike true!"
"Champions of man?" Dracula scoffed, getting up with a sudden, violent push against the table, his eyes glinting like fiery gemstones. "Foolish scoundrel! No man can harm me, and their greatest inventions break before my might! There is nowhere I can't enter, no one I can't overpower! I am Dracula, scourge of man and killer of civilizations! You are no match against me!"
And thus, the night seemed to grow darker than ever before...
~ The Match~
Count Dracula
V.S.
Baron Bela Rakosi
This match shall take place on a gothic castle familiar for both of them, 25 meters apart. The castle is filled with servants that won't harm them and, at maximum, will only flee, and they won't obey them without convincing, willing or unwilling. It is nighttime.
RULES:
1. If necessary for a fair fight, speed will be equalized. If not, it will stay as normal.
2. Rakosi will be angered, and thus, much less likely to try to hypnotise the enemy.
3. They know that each one is a vampire, but have no clues about each other's capacities.
4. No prep time.
(Scroll down for the match)
This is a night-story. A tale of terror, if you might; not for the faint of heart, nor those of a weak disposition. This is a small, bloody tale about the encounter of two night-fiends, devilry-spawned monsters whose cries echo in the night. There are no winners here, for, as merciful for the world it shall be that only one will escape alive from this conflict, the winner will become more powerful than ever, growing in evil and might.
As with many of such stories, this one began with a boom. The boom of thunder, streaking light across the starlit, ebon sky. Roads ill-traveled for those who had prudence, those were roads off the beaten path, through dense spruce woods that, even in the brightest of day, seldom let the sun's rays penetrate. The rich soil was often covered in leaves and all manner of strange fungi that grew on rotting logs and where small streams fled from the earth. Despite such idyllic scenario for a rich plethora of life, few were the animals found there, and those that did wander about, wandered with a scared disposition and alert, fear-maddened eyes, as if they fled from some unknowable, ever-present threat.
The accursed path led to a gothic building off the road, of stone archways and decaying rock that, even split and uneven on the smallest details - to the displeasure of the observant mind - was still far larger and nobler than it should be. Maybe it was the empty, judgemental gaze of gargoyles that bore on those below, or maybe it was all the sharp, grey lines that made the upper towers and edifices of the castle. Nonetheless the cause, no one that wandered there did so without feeling crushed by the oppressive aura about that castle.
But alas! Today was a most grim day, and not even the worms of the earth dared to come close to the castle, and the stars themselves seemed occluded by a dark fog that figured about the castle. Within, lamps and candelabra illuminated hallways, chambers and rooms of all sizes and purposes, and the usually prepared, stoic servants that ambled within were now with a terrified visage, their vision doubling, their natural instincts screaming at them to flee. But they didn't. They daren't. For the two beings at the dinner table would surely hunt them down, as eagles did to the defenseless rabbit.
Two monsters in the shape of men. Pale, gaunt, strong, regal yet unnerving, those two men dined on fine culinary native from distant Hungary. One of them was lithe, tall, reaching into the respectable age of men who had done enough in life, whilst still carrying the strength and spark of youth. The other was aristocratic, old; still strong, larger than the other man in shoulder and in stature, with a long, wisened hair and beard, dressed in furs and clothes far more ornamented than theones of the man before him.
Yet, they were not men. Not at all. Around them, an almost sickly miasma of death and blood existed. They were masters of the night that had lived through centuries of human history, nd no man could ever kill them. They were undead. They were immortal. They were those that stalked in the night.
They were vampires.
"Baron Bela Rakosi." The older man stated, each syllabe spoke as if he savoured his words, after a pause. "I did not expect for you to find my new abode, much less to travel all the way here. I thought your journey to that upstart nation, America, had gone well."
At that, Rakosi's smile was both gracious and devilish, the perfect mix that defined what was to be a vampire.
"It went well enough. I learned much from my stay there, and in time, I will return. However, much like you, I found... Unexpected problems. An adversary unlike none I had met to this day. Surely you can relate, Count Dracula, with your little stunt in England." At that, Dracula's brow stiffened. If any servant had dared to endure the presence of those two beings, surely they would have fainted at the sudden outburst of violent energy.
"What is it you desire, Rakosi? If you came here only to exchange insults, you would have done better to stay in America. Here, we do not tolerate so easily the disrespect of hospitality."
Rakosi barked with dry laughter, and his response was concise:
"If you cannot endure a simple exchange of banter without taking offense, I ought to reconsider my idea! I thought you'd be interested in a fomal match, for the blood of the other." At that, Dracula's eyes slited slightly.
"You desire to challenge me to a duel, Rakosi? For my power? Do you realise the implications of this?"
"I do." Rakosi stated firmly, looking Dracula in the eye. An unnatural gaze, both of them clashing in a brief stare that normal humans would've knelt to, if forced to watch. "We both have ambitions, objectives, and we require more power. Vengeance against those who defeated us. Power to conquer. Finally crush the opposition and the other great, hidden powers of the world. I know your fame, and you must have known my exploits. If we duel to each one's powers, the ashes, the blood of one will be part of the other, and the resulting darkness would envelop all opposition. I require power, and no other fiend has proved to be as apt as you are. Will you accept?"
"As much as I'd have accepted the feces of a rat to drink upon in place of the blood of a man." Dracula replied dryly. "I won't waste my time with an upstart like you, who does not understand either courtesy, nor the risk he takes by coming within and challenging the lord of this household."
In a violent push from the chair, Rakosi stood up, and bared his fangs at Dracula. A cold, shrill wind swept over the courtains and cracked windows, and many a servant shook with the sudden strength of the wind, and Dracula's gaze as intent on Rakosi's own eyes, unmoving. Rakosi's voice echoed, unnatural and echoing
"Be careful, Dracula. To deny my proposal is one thing - to scorn me is another! I am Bela Rakosi, the night obeys when I command and the powers of the mind are unraveled before me! The wind goes as I tell it to, and not even the champions of man could match against me! Apologize, or my fury will strike true!"
"Champions of man?" Dracula scoffed, getting up with a sudden, violent push against the table, his eyes glinting like fiery gemstones. "Foolish scoundrel! No man can harm me, and their greatest inventions break before my might! There is nowhere I can't enter, no one I can't overpower! I am Dracula, scourge of man and killer of civilizations! You are no match against me!"
And thus, the night seemed to grow darker than ever before...
~ The Match~
Count Dracula
V.S.
Baron Bela Rakosi
This match shall take place on a gothic castle familiar for both of them, 25 meters apart. The castle is filled with servants that won't harm them and, at maximum, will only flee, and they won't obey them without convincing, willing or unwilling. It is nighttime.
RULES:
1. If necessary for a fair fight, speed will be equalized. If not, it will stay as normal.
2. Rakosi will be angered, and thus, much less likely to try to hypnotise the enemy.
3. They know that each one is a vampire, but have no clues about each other's capacities.
4. No prep time.
