Serci’s long, flowing, blonde hair stuck out in the darkness of the night on the streets of Adeluna. From what dim light that illuminated from softly cackling torches that lined the building and walls reflected off his pristine robes, Angela’s insignia shining brightly in the night. Although, Revaliir was deep into the night, Adeluna’s air was quite warm against his skin. It wasn’t like him to travel the streets at night, however he pondered the streets going from vendor to vendor ordering supplies for the temple. Several pouches adorned his slender waist, each packed to the brim with coin.

About two vendors ago, Serci felt a presence following him. He felt a hateful aura from behind his back, staying with him as he navigated the late night streets of Adeluna. Instead of confrontation, Serci kept his calm composer. He smiled through the abnormality, simply keeping his hand near The Sword of Eylisa if the need to use it arises. While he continued to drop off payments, Serci kept track of who ever was stalking him. It was most likely a common thief who spotted the coin that Serci was loaded with. Either way, Serci’s path soon came to less traveled cobblestone path where the buildings closed in on the street, making the path quite narrow and dark, a perfect opportunity for his new friend to reveal himself.

As he stepped into the shadows of the darkened street, his left hand fell to the right side of his hip, gripping his sword in hand. Metal scrapped against metal as he unsheathed the blade and spun on his heels to face his pursuer. “The sword is merely for show, friend. It will not be used against you just yet. There has been nothing that you’ve done that can’t be forgiven.” He said softly, an inviting smile ordained on his face. “Why don’t you come out from the shadows and we talk?” He asked warmly. “If it is money you want, all you have to do is ask. The purses you see are Angela’s. However, I will spare some of my own silver with you. If that is what you seek.” He reassured. "My name is Serci, friend. Champion to Angela, The Divine Artificer."

The vendors had not been quiet in their whisperings of the man’s name nor the name of whom he served… or at least they had not been quiet enough. To others maybe the words would have gone unheard, unnoticed, but to a man like Raith it was hard to block them out - his bloodline had made his senses sharper as it was but his lack of sight had merely made this more acute than ever - and he knew her name.
Raith had learnt of the Goddess Angela during the ball - he had learnt of her connection to the one named Kiba; the bastard adopted son of his Gods forsaken dame. Naturally he had looked into this further and discovered that Angela had recently healed his mother of her wound - a wound that might have one day killed her, but no, Angela had stopped the inevitable, doing what Gods always did - playing with Destiny for their own means.
He had no idea what his mother had offered to the Deity in order to prolong her life once again but now Angela, and all those associated with her, fell into the same category as his mother and anyone else who dared to help her… so this man had been added to the list of those who had to suffer - that way maybe his mother would get the message that he was here to ruin her life before he took it from her entirely.

Gliding through the crowds of people Raith kept a few strides behind his target; keeping track of him via the man’s heady scent - he was easy enough to pick out despite the amount of people in the city. Before long his target moved into quieter, more open streets and it caused the man to smile somewhat sadistically; so the man had figured him out had he? Good, that meant that they could have their confrontation properly and without the interference of the crowds.
Following down the path Raith tilted his head slightly as his sensitive ears caught the quicker echo of his own footsteps on the cobbles as it reverberated from the walls - the path was narrowing, the man was trying to corner him. Well what more could he have expected from a ‘Champion’ of one of the wretched Gods after all?

His mark stopped, drew his sword and turned to face Raith; the sound of the metal as the sword was drawn only brought a small, mirthless chuckle from the man’s throat as he slowed his pace, his own hand lingering above the hilt of his own tainted blade.
“Ah the arrogance of those who sit in the laps of the Gods; it is not I who needs to ask for forgiveness but you Champion.” He laughed darkly, spitting the last word from his tongue with such venom that it was all too clear what he thought of the man before him.
“Oh you can offer me all the gold and silver that you like; it is your life that I want and it is your life that I will take. Words are unnecessary Artificer; you shall convey my message to Angela and my mother without your throat after all.” He snarled, drawing his black blade from its scabbard swiftly, the tip catching the wall and letting out a high pitched screech that merely made him smile all the more as the sound echoed through the street.
“I shall do you the respect of giving you my name; after all it is only polite that you know who took your life. My name is Raith; your Goddess saved the life of one who was meant to die, this is twice that she has failed to meet her end and twice the Gods have interfered in the natural order, your death will be a warning to those who continue to interfere.”

“You are foolish to threaten a champion, even more so, to challenge Angela.” Serci’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening around The Sword of Eylisa. “It is unfortunate, though” Serci sighed with a disappointed tone. “I was hoping to avoid conflict for your sake.” The man that called himself Raith was about to experience the true power of a champion. Despite Serci’s feminine appearance and slim frame, Serci was quite durable. A skilled warrior that relied on speed and agility to over power his opponents. However, Serci was at a disadvantage. He was hoping for Raith to back down, but Raith was determined to kill Serci. Serci, however, vowed to never take a human life, even when threatened with his own.

To further complicate his situation, the alleyway that Serci led Raith to was narrow and barely allowed any room for Serci to maneuver around Raith. Serci’s true skill lied in his quick movements that threw enemies off guard where Serci would launch in with a fatal strike. The enemy would then reel back from the pain, accepting death, where upon Serci would heal their wounds. The Sword of Eylisa granted him this. Serci was allowed to take some liberties, but he would have to be careful not to take the man’s life. However, with the drawbacks he faced, he did have the upperhand in this battle. Angela’s divine protection would protect him from most fatal attacks. With his shield, Serci would have no trouble blocking Raith’s attempts at his life and would be able to either push Raith back into the street, or retreat enough so they pooled out onto the street on the other side.

It all relied on if Serci could lure Raith out of the alleyway where Serci could use his agility the most. He analyzed how the scenarios could go in the brief silence until Serci spoke with determination. “You have chosen this path, Raith. You will not meet your death on the end of my blade, but you will learn the consequences of challenging a champion.” Serci closed his eyes, concentrating his power onto The Sword of Eyslia. It began glowing violently, emitting iridescent a gold aura that lit up the dark alleyway, dispersing all shadow. Serci’s right hand shot up in the air as his kite shield materialized around it. Within the span of a few seconds, Serci launched forward, his shield protecting his chest as his sword pointed towards Raith launched a ball of light targeted at Raith’s eyes.. The light would only confuse Raith, hopefully, and in that time Serci would tackle into Raith with his sheild, forcing him to retreat towards the street behind him.

“You are the fools; you gain the title Champion and suddenly believe that you are Gods yourselves, time someone reminded you that you are mortal and I intend on doing just that.” Raith snapped in return, grinning almost madly as he felt his own blood turn to fire within his veins. “Conflict is for my sake.” He laughed, spitting the words at the pompous man before him.
Champions; he despised them just as much as he did the Deities they served - after all his mother had been Champion to the Goddess of Death when they had been on DaeLuin and it was that she-witch that had started this entire fiasco.

The alleyway would prove an advantage for Raith, the sounds of the man he fought against reverberated back to his sensitive ears quicker than if they were out in the open where the sounds could be carried further. Everything was sharp and clear and he could even hear the shift of the man’s garments as he took up arms. Oh glorious day the man would fall to his blade and the message would be sent back to his mother and that wretched Goddess who had healed her.

“No but you shall meet your death on the end of mine!” The man spat venomously, the madness all too clear in his tone. For all that he hated his mother Raith had always been the most like her out of his siblings - not only did he looks like his mother, sharing her complexion and her eyes (except of course for the silver film across his emerald green eyes, the only indicator of his affliction) as well as her temper and the madness that the Minadrias were known for on their homeworld.
The rush of dark emotions flooded his mind and ran through his veins, setting them alight until all that Raith could feel was the bloodlust - Serci would have to kill him, even if he landed a fatal blow it would not stop the man, only true death could stop him now he had entered this stage of the madness. Either his life was taken or his thirst for blood was quenched… either way death would end this battle.

He heard Serci rush forwards and smiled; tainted blade held within his right hand, shadows forming a curse around his left. He heard the rush of magic and felt something against his face and all that it did was cause Raith to let out a laugh of contemptuous amusement - he did not know what the man had done but he could hazard a guess, especially since he heard the hesitation in Serci’s movements…
After Serci had let out his ball of light, hoping to blind and confuse his opponent, Raith had continued on his path towards the man - there was no hesitation on his part since his lack of sight had saved him from being dazzled. This fact, unexpected and unusual, had thrown the Champion momentarily - giving Raith the chance to swing his sword with full force, slamming it hard onto the Champion’s shield to cause the man to take up defence… while a dagger imbued with the curse from his left hand slid from his sleeve, finding its way under the man’s arm and into his ribs with a twist while Raith hissed in his face. “Foolish Champion, today is mine and the end of yours.” He laughed.

((OOC: Full God-mode permission granted on both sides during this fight))

Serci charged forward, his sword arm poised to strike. He followed behind the ball of light, his eyes zeroing out on Raith’s muscled frame. The light hit Raith in the face, according to Serci’s careful calculation. A victorious smile crept across his face as he raised his arm to swing down onto his assailant. However, his eyes ran wide as the glowing ball simply dispersed as it collided with Raith. He stood motionless, a smile of anticipation on his face. Serci quickly dropped his sword arm, raising his shield in defense as Raith slammed his sword against Serci’s improvised guard sending a ring of steel through the warm air. A grunt escaped his lungs from his opponent’s attack, followed by a sharp pain that ran under his arm. His ribs felt wet, but immensely hot as blood began to flow from the wound.

“Tch.” Serci inhaled through clenched teeth before forcefully shoving Raith away with a push from his shield. He observed the palpale shadows that weaved through Raith’s fingers. A wave of regret washed over Serci as he acknowledged he had underestimated Raith’s intent on Serci’s death. The Sword of Eylisa began to glow, the aura forming a trail to Serci’s side as if hovered around the laceration. Through the light, he could see Raith’s demented smile, but more importantly the dim film over his eyes. Serci’s eyes furrowed in frustration as he silently criticized his self for making such a careless mistake. “Raith.” He called out, between ragged breaths. “I admit, I underestimated you.” He widened his stance, once again taking up an offensive position, refusing to give in to the pain. Fortunately, Angela’s sword’s healing properties began to make quick work of Raith’s successful attack, allowing Serci movement with minor pain. “It was my mistake. One I will not make again.”


Serci was still at disadvantage, even more so now as Raith’s blindness rendered Serci’s mature light magic ineffective. Irritated, Serci lowly grumbled as he quickly tried to asses the situation. Despiite being blind, Raith had excellent senses to land a blow on Serci, even being able to time a swing of his sword with Serci’s charging. He didn’t just have excellent senses, he was relying on a kind of echo location of sorts. His theory was further proven by Raith’s constant striking of the wall with his sword. Serci let loose a soft chuckle, as he strained his posture, continuing with confidence. “The battle is over, Raith.” Serci commanded. He began undoing the straps of his shield that ran around his arm, holding the shield in his hand. “And that is not overconfidence, but a fact.” He ran the shield across the brick walls, sending scratches into the air as he positioned himself to throw the shield towards Raith.

Serci let the shield loose as it hissed in the air as it hurled towards Raith, and just seconds before colliding with him, the shield dispersed into tiny particles. Raith took the bait, as Serci gambled. Raith moved to dodge the shield, Serci taking the moment to rush in swinging his sword downwards onto Raith. Serci’s sword clashed against Raith’s, smiling when he heard Raith growl in anger or annoyance at Serci’s feint. Serci quickly swept his leg across Raith’s, causing Raith to lean forward as he grew off balance. Serci’s open hand quickly slid down Raith’s sword arm, clenching around his wrist, as he pulled sharply towards him, forcing Raith’s hand to crash against the brick’s of the alleyway. Raith’s sword tumbled onto the ground, clanging against the cold cobblestone road.

Serci paused for a moment, admiring his success. He slowly backed up, retreating out of the alleyway and into the open streets of Adeluna. Serci had met his win condition, whether Raith gave up, or pursued him into the open, Serci had won. “This battle is mine, Raith. I implore you to take your sword and leave the way you came.” He called out, seriousness in his voice. “You were warned, and forced my hand. Unfortunately, you have crossed a line, so I suggest you run. Run hard and long, Raith, as the Adelunaian guard will be behind you.” Serci’s eye’s narrowed, as he began to speak softly to Raith, pleading with him to not continue the losing battle. “You are skilled, there is no doubt. But you will be outnumbered.” The harshness of his voice had died down, leaving only a compassionate tone and although Raith could not see it, a warm and embracing smile. “Please Raith, live to see another day. This battle is decided.”

How satisfying it was to put this man in his place; to prove that he did not know everything as he so arrogantly believed. The Champion was self-assured, he believed that not only was he in the right over the situation (and probably most situations as people like Serci tended to believe) but also that he was superior - so confident that his magic would stop Raith in his tracks he had not taken stock of the fact that the man before him was not like others, had the Champion been more observant he may have realised that Raith was blind but no his arrogance had made him blind to that and had put him on the back foot from the beginning.

The shield pushed him back but Raith kept his footing; he had expected such a reaction from his opponent after all - Serci would not want to leave him too close since he had already proved that he was more dangerous than Serci had originally believed him to be. A shiver of pleasure ran down the man’s spine at the sound of Serci’s ragged breath; he had potentially punctured the man’s lung… good… that would slow him down a little since he would now be more than aware of Raith’s own affliction and would be calculating ways to gain the advantage over the blind man once more. ”Most people do, you are not the first nor will you be the last.” Raith snarled and there was a hint of something sincere behind the venom in his words; a clear indication that people had looked down on him for too long and had not helped in his descent into darkness and now he had a point to prove… and he really did not care who died in the process.

Again with that overconfidence. ”The battle is over when one of us is dead.” He snapped. The walls screeched with the sound of the shield running against the bricks and Raith closed his eyes (out of habit rather than necessity) to concentrate not on that but on the footsteps that followed - yes the metal was loud but you didn’t spend two centuries being blind and not learn how to tune something out. However he was not prepared for the Champion to physically throw his shield at him - stupidly Raith had assumed that the shield was meant to disorientate him and cause him to be confused and while he had not been entirely wrong he had missed the glaring fact that throwing the defensive weapon would be quieter than Serci’s footfalls, the man was clever he would give him that. He caught the sound change and immediately twisted his body to dodge the projectile; half listening for the clang of the falling shield only there was no further noise - it had disappeared entirely, something Raith only deduced when he tasted magic on the air once more. Raising his sword in defence he felt Serci’s meet his and snarled angrily - as much at himself as the man he was fighting. Before he had time to adjust his body his leg had been swept out from under him and he was leaning, caught by Serci’s hand he hissed as his sword arm was slammed into the brick wall and his hand automatically released the blade.

He felt Serci retreat and smiled slightly, bending to take up his blade once more as he followed the man into the open street. ”Oh I don’t intend to run anywhere.” He laughed, the darkness obvious in his tone now - malice and hatred licking at every syllable as he spoke. He began to laugh, a sound that could bring a shiver down the spines of anyone with common sense. ”You say outnumbered but I merely have to survive long enough to fell a few of your Adelunaian guard and then it shall be you who is outnumbered Serci.” He added cryptically, a smile crossing his face as he twisted his body to release the pressure in his chest where Serci had collided with him, rolling his wrist and wincing slightly at the pain there also. ”You still believe I am going to take your charity and walk away from this? There is only one way this ends - with your death or mine and today will not end with mine; there is too much left for me to do!” He roared, throwing himself back into the fray, casting Pain Spike as he ran at the man - aiming for where he had cut into his ribs in order to distract and have his curse dig deeper into the man’s mind and body. Let the guard come… the living would become the dead and then the Necromancer would truly go to work.

Serci hastily conjured a wall of light to counter the curse Raith had casted. The curse crashed against the light, casting off shadows in every direction as the curse was slowly dissolved by the light. With a flourish of his hand the wall faded, where Serci launched in, heaving his sword horizontally, forcing Raith to block his side. Serci acted quickly, launching forward with his shoulder into Raith’s chest. When the blow connected, he heard Raith violently cough from the impact, stumbling backwards. The champion stood still, studying Raith’s composure. When he first stopped Serci, his mannerisms were confident and cold. He fought with an anger that was controlled. However, as the fight had progressed, Raith’s seething hate and anger began to rule his senses, causing his form to have flaws. His openings were too wide, he was too easy persuaded and fell for Serci’s feints.

The battle was decided when Raith’s anger over ruled the warrior swinging the sword. In truth, Serci didn’t take much joy from this winning battle. It was as if he was fighting a child, so overcome with frustration that he blindly threw attacks that were easily blocked and countered. His perseverance was something to be respected, however, it only saddened Serci as Raith’s strength was used for revenge and hate. There was a solemn expression on Serci’s face as Raith snarled, launching in with a poorly prepared attack. His movements were telegraphed as soon as he moved to launch. Serci quickly danced around Raith’s blade, turning his back towards Raith. He withdrew his sword hand back towards his hip, launching backwards towards Raith, slamming the hilt of the sword into Raith’s ribs, causing him to buckle to his knees, gasping for air.

Serci shook his head in pity, releasing a sigh in disappointment. It was time to end this. Serci’s right hand reached for the sky, palm facing towards the pitch black sky as he concentrated an explosive ball of light in the center of his open hand. As the magic grew, the force began to recoil, causing his arm to slightly shake, until sparks were flying from his hand. Fighting the force of the spell, he struggled to close his hand, concentrating the exit of the spell through a tiny opening through his clenched fist. In a split second, he released the spell, the ball of light rocketing from his hand, sending a whistle through the warm air, upwards into the night sky. The high pitched whistle was quickly overcome by a large boom, as the ball of light exploded into a golden firework. The flare would be seen by the castle guard and reinforcements would arrive in a half hour.

There was sorrow in Serci’s voice as he looked at Raith as he convulsed on the cobblestone road, trying to regain his breath. “You are a strong bladesman, Raith. It is a true shame you swung with rage, rather than convictions of justice. However, the battle is over. You have made it clear. You will not stop till I or you have fallen.” Serci moved to better place self if Raith decides to get up and try another attempt on Serci. “But let me tell you how this will end, if you do not run. The guards will come, and with my help, you will be arrested.” Shifting the weight on his legs, Serci dropped into a defensive stance, ready for anything Raith would do. “You will be put on trial, and you will be executed.” Serci’s tone dropped, the shame in his voice no longer audible. What was left was severity and urgency. “In your last moments, I wonder if you would finally accept defeat. If you can still speak, I would like to know what you have to say.”

In the open he was at a disadvantage - while he had learnt how to fight in any situation it took more of his strength and concentration to pinpoint Serci’s exact movements in order to fight back. Serci was correct in one thing - at the beginning of this fight Raith had been more composed; he had had the high ground after all and knew that he was playing to his strengths rather than to his opponents - now his attacks were wild and erratic… not because he had let his anger get the best of him but because he needed to bring Serci’s guard back down and the only way he could do that now was to lose his composure and bring this fight to what looked like an end on Serci’s behalf… Raith had one trump card that Serci knew nothing of, something he had hoped not to use if only because he cursed the fact that it was a gift from his Mother’s race - though he had twisted it to suit his own needs as ever.

His chest ached where Serci’s shoulder had slammed into it, his ribs broken where the Champion had forced his sword hilt into them - that had punctured a lung unfortunately but Raith would take the wounds, he would let Serci get the upper hand… the thing was that Raith knew this man, not personally but because he had met such self righteous people as the Champion before - he was every bit like Raith’s Mother and he hated the man for that. Serci would, in the end, show Raith mercy one last time… and that would be the man’s downfall. Raith would break the man’s faith in his own good heart while he murdered him; he would show Serci that mercy in a fight like this only led to your own end.

Bent double and gasping for breath Raith was more than a little aware of the fact that his own end was close but he relied on the fact that Serci was the Champion to the Goddess of Love and Life - he would not want to take Raith’s life himself if he could help it… He felt and heard the ball of light explode rather than saw it; another desperate gulp of air was dragged into his disobedient lungs as Raith bent over so his head rested on the cobbled stone road. As Serci began to speak Raith smiled to himself - the Champion unable to see the expression given how Raith was now doubled over, let the man try and ‘save’ his soul once more, it would do him no good, death was the only end to this and since Serci would not kill him himself Raith would happily show him that mercy was foolish.

Sliding his dagger from his sleeve he ran the blade across one palm. "Go onto the next journey, step through the Gate and take the Path to the next life knowing that you have been saved from the torment of this one." He replied as he silently cast another spell. It took most of his remaining strength to push himself to his feet as arms sprang forth from beneath the cobbled streets - the dead answering the call of their Master as they clawed at anything within their path within a 20 foot radius of the man who had called upon them. Launching forwards while the arms pulled and clawed at Serci Raith reached the Champion with a demented smile upon his face as he used his dagger to slash across the man’s neck - slamming his own wounded hand against it. ”Death is the only defeat, and I shall have yours. Give my regards to my Mother.” He spat at the man as he felt Serci’s life began to drain away into his wounded hand, the Champion’s life coursing into his body and healing his wounds. He felt his lungs and ribs repair and inhaled deeply, a look of satisfaction upon his face.