Almos Lorand vs Kieron Modra

The arena is a tropical with an active volcanoe.  It has thick and dense rain forest filled with wild life that is just so hungry to eat anything.  The Island has a Diameter of 10 miles.  The volcano will errupt after 20 posts and it will take another 10 before the entire island is engulfed with lava.  Have fun! ;P

 Kieron Modra posts first

What a nice view. After killing that last guy off screen, Kieron needed a break. Having ditched his usual outfit (minus the scarf and belt to hold his extra knife and smoke grenade), he relaxed on the beach in a foldable chair, clad only in a bright red speedo. His sword holster was on the ground next to him, as were his guns. But, really: Why would he need to use those? He was on holiday. Nothing bad ever happens when you're relaxing.

(OOC) 1.

What the hell?  No seriously, what the hell was he doing with his life?  Fifteen different leads.  FIFTEEN!  In his hunt to capture a certain relic of ill-repute, Almos had scrounged up almost every contact he could find.  The old man in Kentucky said there was truth behind the bones in Cairo.  The Museum in Cairo sold them to a private collector in Dublin.  The old man in Dublin lost them in a bet and so on and so forth.  Finally, just when Almos finally believed that he had the relic in his grasp he was informed that it had been stolen by some sword wielding mercenary or something.  The last lead had no idea why it was taken or what had happened to it.  The last lead had no head following Almos' visit but that's neither here nor there.  Here as it were, referred to a small tropical island that the mercenary was rumored to sometimes travel to (another useful bit of information from the recently deceased former lead).  Having traveled there in a small yet comfortable ship owned by the dead man, Almos knew enough about boats to turn the wheel and use the throttle.  Dinging the fancy boat off a number of rocks, he finally got the damn thing to ease to a stop in a small cove on one side of the island and dropped anchor, believing the boat to be well-hidden enough for the time being.  

Turning up the collar of his coat, Almos took only an umbrella with him in addition to his usual attire and began hiking the beach.  Best to check out the outer edges of the island and work his way inward, maybe find the merc's boat if he was lucky.  The incessant glare of the sun beamed down atop the vampire taking refuge under his umbrella as he hiked the beach from the shady cover of the forest's edge.  Finally, after about 45 minutes of hiking at a leisurely walking place, he found the first sign of human life...a speedo man with swords.  This was the man that had caused him such a headache?  This was the man that had him out here in the godforsaken sun searching AGAIN for the damn relic?  I...I'm going to kill this man.  I am going to pull off his skin use it as a hammock...in which I will strangle him. the vampire calmly thought to himself, his right eye twitching all the while.  Taking off towards the lounging man at a brisk jog, Lorand made his way in a beeline for the mercenary.  "Hey!  Hey you there!  We've got business together!

OOC: 2, and I leave whether I'm a D or C right now entirely up to you.

This island was meant to be deserted, yet here was some yelling guy running up to him. Disturbing his peace. Blocking his rays. Breaking his wind. Getting serious for a minute, he put a hand on his gun, ready to whip it out should this man become dangerous. "Trying to tan here. Make it quick." He wasn't very interested in what this guy had to say. It'd been a long day of swimming to this island -real men don't use boats, of course- and he was prepared to sleep under the stars in his chair come nightfall.

(OOC) 3, and let's go C.

Noticing the man lay a hand on his gun, Almos slowed down and eventually came to a full stop roughly fifteen feet from the lounging mercenary. The snippy attitude was not helping Almos' mood in the least. Resting his umbrella against his right shoulder to protect him from the sun, Lorand scowled. "You're Modra yes? I received word that you were the last man to lay hands on the bones of the Shazam. I want them," his red eyes narrowed a bit. Blades and guns, the man was certainly prepared for combat and what were the chances that any of that was blessed? He had no way to know for sure. Unblessed weaponry didn't pose much of a threat to him but he wasn't about to allow his anger to become stupidity. So long as he could get the damn bones he could be on his way.

Bones of Sham-Wow? The hell was he talking about? It took a minute of thinking before he realized what the freak was referring to. "Those weird bone things? Turned them into an ass scratcher, then tossed them out when they broke. Can't help you there." He didn't really expect this guy to leave, but he could always hope. He was prepared to swing the gun forward and let off a few shots if things turned violent. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, though, and he could continue doing nothing in the heat.

He used the bones of Shazam as an ass scratcher. He threw away an ancient relic of incredible power. All that effort was for nothing. To sum things up nicely, "You stupid insolent little bastard! I'll hang you by your entrails!" the Hungarian vampire said as he withdrew his left hand from his pocket to point dramatically at the lounging mercenary. Almost immediately, his cursed chain flew from his sleeve towards the man's throat. The aim was simple, wrap the chain around the idiot's neck and then slam him into the ground. Then repeat, over and over again until the obnoxious little man was battered into a fine little stress relief ball. Nice and squishy.

This went about as well as planned. As he'd prepared for, the gun came out, shooting six bullets at the chain and the man. Rolling backwards, he raised the chair to its side acting as the world's worst shield to ever be improvised. Taking his smoke grenade and pulling the pin, he tossed it over the chair to land in front of it, creating a thick cloud of white smoke. Taking cover, he shoved both guns down his speedo before scooping up his swords and taking off into the forest, struggling with the harness as he went.

Almos growled in frustration and a bit of pain as the bullets found their targets.  Three struck the chain, causing it to veer off course and miss the man's neck entirely while the other three targeted the vampire.  Taking care to cover his heart with his right arm, Almos received a bullet in the left hip and right shoulder. The final bullet was nearly avoided, grazing the top of his right ear to claim a bit of flesh as it passed by.  Red eyes blazed with anger at the insult of being injured, however minor, by a fool in a speedo.  Between the supernatural benefit of his third eye and his enhanced hearing, Lorand had little trouble locating the mercenary's position behind that damned smoke screen.  The time for games was well and truly over.  If allowed to retreat into the safety of the forest there was no telling how long the mercenary could run and hide.  This needed to be settled on the beach.  Pushing off the ball of his right foot, Almos rushed forward at full speed, batting the beach chair aside with a left backhand swipe to clear his path through the smoke towards the Australian.  Sand flared out in the wake of the vampire's sprint as he closed the distance between himself and his prey in a moment.  Funneling his momentum into a high speed sliding motion, Almos lowered his body to make a grab for the mercenary's left ankle.  If he could get a hold on the man's leg, a quick flexing of vampiric strength should have the Australian in the air only to be brought down like a large sac full of very dumb puppies.  Intent on pounding the mercenary into the beach, the severe blow would likely be disorienting if not knocking him unconscious entirely but the real fun would be on that left leg.  A few wild swings using it as a handle would probably do wonders to debilitate the man's maneuverability.

OOC: 8

Damn it, running away usually worked. As he was lifted off the ground, he couldn't help but notice a monkey in the tree over from him; it was taking a shit, and he was very amused. This amusement soon left him as he was smashed into the ground. Though dazed, he stayed conscious, taking his guns from his shorts and turning to fire as he was lifted a second time. He took three shots from each, aimed at the man's body. Whatever this guy was he was tough and he was fast. Cover didn't seem to save him, so his best bet would be to either stand and fight (probably not the greatest ending there) or see how well he could swim.

Once again the vampire was forced to hold off his attack due to the mercenary's gunplay.  This man had toughness to match his reflexes and his annoying attitude.  Just perfect.  Releasing the man's ankle as he was hauled into the air for a second slam, Almos brought both of his arms together in a tight guard to protect his head and heart.  This fool didn't use blessed bullets.  Though not nearly as effective as the alternative, they had the potential to be fatal and his shield was useless against them.  Most likely due to the disorienting situation that Almos had put his prey in, two of the shots missed entirely.  Of the other four, two found their way into his right forearm and shoulder and the other two glanced wildly off the chain links still wrapped around his left arm.  In the distance, a certain monkey yelped in pain as the rebounded bullet caught it in the chest.  If this kept up he would seriously need to consider dodging but that was a decision for later.  Right now the menu included pain, lots and lots of pain for this irritating mercenary.  Enkidu shot forth again as the Australian landed to try and bind the man's wrists together and pin them to the ground over his head using its spike as a stake, thus knocking him onto his back if he was not there already.  Still possessing enough dexterity in his right arm to use it as a makeshift spear, the vampire would drop down and forward to go for a mount position on the mercenary in order to plunge his fingers deep into the gunman's chest cavity to ruin the important squishy bits within.

OOC: 10

He was free now and ready to kick some ass. Still in the air, he did a turn, falling onto his front. He took a shot from each gun at the man's knees before the chain got his wrists, pinning him on his back. As any Australian knows, however, getting pinned like this was no issue; all he did was roll on his back to get into a crouching stance above the barb. From there, he tried to lift the chain out of the ground while firing five more bullets from each, emptying one of his guns. Damn him for putting beauty over extra ammunition! Only six bullets left in the other, too, so this could be a problem if he didn't get a hold of his swords.

The left knee this time, a direct shot just below the joint was enough to drop Almos to a kneeling position, ending his lunge but thankfully allowing him to evade the second knee shot. On top of all that the mercenary was crafty enough to roll into a more advantageous position. However, his little rolling trick gave Almos enough time to center himself and by the time that the latest salvo was fired, Lorand had powered off to the left using his right leg. Most of the shots flew by harmlessly but two did find their mark in his forearm just below the elbow joint and another clipped his shoulder. More and more damage was piling up on his right arm as the fight progressed. Even as old wounds healed, new holes were blasted into him again. At the very least, one of those damn guns had finally run dry. With a mighty tug, Almos drew in his chain still tightly bound around Kieron's wrists. If he couldn't advance safely on the Australian, he would simply bring the Australian to him. The added benefit of this strategy was that the abrupt yank and resistance of Enkidu should make it incredibly difficult for the mercenary to line up a proper shot before Almos attempted to grab onto his bound wrists and make damn sure that gun stayed pointed at the ground. His right arm was in no shape for any finer movements but if he could straighten his fingers he at least had a stabbing weapon available. Driving his right hand forward from the hip, Almos aimed for the gunman's throat. If he could pierce that, this was over.

OOC: 12

He managed to free the barb, but at that time, he was yanked forward. That hand could be a problem, and a turn while in the air could be the solution. Probably best not to get hi- shit, shit, shit. It might have missed his neck, but his left forearm got a pretty nasty cut. Even worse was that his blood didn't match the color of his swimsuit. He was on the ground now with his feet planted, so he should probably make the best of a bad situation. Springing up, he attempted to headbutt the man in the chin, dropping his gun as he did in the general area of one of their feet. From his raised position, he'd have a better area to fire at, even while his hands were forced downwards; specifically, the crotch. Two bullets would do the trick.

The hardheaded mercenary put his cranium to good use, colliding squarely against Almos' to knock him back slightly and break his concentration enough that Enkidu finally released the gunman's wrists. This humiliation was becoming unsightly. Rage flowing like a mad flood within him, Almos lashed forward with his own head at the weapon pointed at his groin. Fangs bared, he intended to bite down on the wrist of the the Australian's gun hand, pushing the gun off target to fire harmlessly into the sand before tearing off a mouth full of flesh. Even if he couldn't find purchase with his fangs, striking the gun with his head would be enough to avoid another pestering injury from those bullets. Two more shots wasted into the sand would be music to Almos' ears. There could only be a few left in the weapon and once he was free from worry about those all that would be left to deal with were those swords the mercenary carried. A normal man using swords against a century old vampire? It was bad comedy with all the makings of a bloodbath.

OOC: 14

It was freedom yet again. With that oppressive chain gone at only the price of a bit of pain in his head, he felt free to shoot. Too bad the gun impacting his bare foot threw him off, making him jump back and miss completely. A head hit his hand, though; was he actually going to bruise from that? Drawing his sword with his right hand, he came down with it while lining up for more shootin'. This was fun. Who cared about relaxing? Relaxing was for old ladies. He took the last four shots at the man's body.

The mercenary's own clumsiness had caused him to back off, giving Almos a moment's respite. The bone in his leg had finally mended itself, providing him increased mobility even if his continuously abused right arm was still injured. Using that regained mobility, Lorand hopped backward about three feet, leaning back slightly to fully evade the sword stroke. Aiming to counter while the arm was still extended, Lorand took a step towards the mercenary...and walked right into the bullets. Three caught him in the gut and the fourth struck him in the left hip, caused the vampire to drop straight down onto his back, arms spread eagle in the sand. Playing possum, the Hungarian lay there still, not giving any signs of life. The cursed chain was also motionless in the sand, extending past Almos and Kieron for a short distance. However, as the Australian's attention was hopefully drawn to the apparently dead man at his feet, the spiked end of the chain would silently rise into the air behind the mercenary. Well within his blind spot, there was enough slack for the chain to make the minimum necessary movements without pulling more links from Almos' sleeve and thus give away signs of motion. Stabbing at the Australian's back, the spike was intended to impale him through the chest before curving back around to pierce his skull.

OOC: 16

That was anti-climactic. Poking at the man's head a couple times with his sword, he decided this guy was totally not faking it and had died. Turning to go get his other gun, he barely noticed the chain before it came at him. Guess he wasn't dead. Trying to block with his gun and sword, it prevented the kill that was planned, but still managed to cut his hand, inner bicep, and side as it went. The damage he was taking was really starting to make that arm look bad. He swatted the return strike away easier, dropping the empty gun and drawing his second sword as he jumped back. "I don't know what you are," he began, ignorant of anything regarding vampirism. "But you're tough as crap. We should get a beer sometime."

(OOC) 17. I remembered!

It took an extreme ammount of effort for Almos to not leap up and attack the fool as that sword prodded his cheek. At the very least, it confirmed that the blades were also unblessed. Growling as his chain missed its mark, Almos hauled himself up to his feet and backed off a bit as well, widening the distance between them to about five yards. Sighing, he brushed sand off of his coat in a kneeling position while slowly drawing circle around himself on the beach using the blood covering his right hand. At the same time, Enkidu rewound itself around his left forearm, pausing just long enough for Lorand to lick a bit of the Australian's blood off the tip. "What makes you think that you're ever leaving this beach...Kieron Modra," the vampire asked finally completing his circular sigil. Honestly he hadn't wanted it to come to this. Using a ritual this prestigious on common trash was downright embarassing but the Australian had grated on Lorand's patience for too long. It was high time this came to an end.

OOC: 18. The effects of the ritual should kick in during my next post.

He should've brought a towel with him. That blood was becoming annoying. It would stop on its own after a time, but it was still irritating to have it run down him like that. He didn't really want to use his scarf for that, either. He noticed the guy writing something in the sand. Deciding to do the same, he scratched a crude "FUCK" into the sand, laughing at himself like a child. Casually strolling over to examine the other man's work, he wasn't sure how he felt about that statement. "Kind of need to later on. Don't really feel like being on this island forever. Got things to see and explore."

(OOC) 19

Straightening up to a standing position as the Australian approached, a dark grin appeared on Almos' features.  The crude word scratched into the sand nearby was an oddly effective description of this entire experience.  Fuck.  Just fuck.  Chuckling at the swordsman's response, Lorand reached up and rubbed the side of his neck with his left hand, moving slowly to appear nonthreatening.  "I suggest hell," was all that the vampire said before swiping the spiked tip of his chain across his own throat.  Deep enough to open his wind pipe but shallow enough to avoid coming anywhere close to decapitation, Almos could only grin in silence as blood poured out of his open neck wound.  Without a blessing, this injury was relatively painful but not fatal to the Hungarian vampire.  In a few moments the wound would be closed up good as new.  However, within the circular sigil of his ritual, the damage should be transfered to the mercenary as well.  And unlike Almos, this Australian did not appear to have regenerative abilities.

OOC: 20!

This guy must be crazy. Why would he just up and kill himself like that? Slitting his own throat, too. Speaking of which, there felt like a lot of blood coming down his chest. Whole lot of blood, actually. Wait, when did he get hurt? Fuck all kinds of duck, that guy must be a magician or something. Clumsily lobbing a sword in Almos' direction, the adventurer did his best to tie his scarf around his neck to try and stop all that blood from getting out. Though it worked, he still lost a lot of blood and was having an awfully hard time of breathing. He fell to a knee, alternating between fist shakes and giving the finger before feeling dizzy and having to stop. This wasn't a very pleasant experience.

Off in the distance, a loud boom erupted from a mountain. Apparently, it was a volcano. Just what he needed; fucking lava coming at him when it was hard for him to walk. He couldn't really attack or defend anymore, but he had a couple more tricks stuffed in his speedo.

(OOC) 1 on lava.

Watching the Australian sink to his knees was incredibly satisfying. A bit like scratching a really annoying itch really. In fact, he felt so good that he didn't try and dodge the sword that was thrown in his direction. An awkward toss, the tip of the blade plunged into the right side of Almos' chest. Wincing at the newest injury, Lorand nonetheless took hold of the sword with his left hand and pushed it in deeper to inflict as much pain as possible on the mercenary that has dragged him all the way out to the boonies. With a heave of effort, he then yanked the sword out of his chest just as the ancient volcanoe erupted. Son of a bitch! was Lorand's first thought at the destructive sight. He normally would have verbalized it but with the would to his neck still healing he couldn't quite talk just yet. Disappointed that his torturous revenge was being cut short, he took a step outside of his circular sigil to break their connection and attempted a furious swing at the mercenary with the borrowed blade. If successful, he would have the pleasure of cleaving open the Australian's skull. If not, it would hopefully be enough of a shock to knock the wounded man onto his back before Almos ran off towards his escape ship hidden in that small cove. It had taken a while to get here at a leisurely pace but with the lava racing down that mountain, leasure was no longer an option. Lorand would keep up his highest feasible speed, which would increase as his wounds finished healing, to the ship. The only pause would come early on, an afterthought as he ran past the mercenary about ten yards and skidded to a halt to hurl the sword at Kieron's back before continuing on towards escape.

OOC: 1

That didn't work. Now he was bleeding from the chest, too. Too bad he was dying. Might as well try to take this guy with him, though. When he was approached, he pulled the push knife from the back of his belt, planning to jam it into his knee. After that, he was killed by the sword, smiling all the way. Somewhere, off in the distance, a kangaroo cried.

Stubborn fucking bastard! Almos roared as a sharp point entered the back of his knee and sent him tumbling to the sand just as he threw the sword at it's original owner. With a snarl, Almos yanked the small knife out of his leg, thankful his throat had finally healed and his right arm seemed to be back in relatively normal shape. A brief test of his left leg confirmed his suspicions, the tendons were cut leaving the leg dead weight for a while. Unfortunately, the vampire didn't have time to just sit around and wait to heal. Digging his fingers into the sand, he threw himself with all his might and went careening down the beach in the direction of his ship. With the next leap, he'd managed to get his good leg into the motion too, more than doubling his distance. It looked ridiculous and was not nearly effective as sprinting, but this method would at least let him shorten the distance to his boat while the knee healed and the lava advanced. He could already see the smoke from the lava flames over the tree line.

By the time that his knee had healed and he could run again, he could see the lava itself through the trees some distance away. "Not much time left!" he said, urging himself onward with even greater speed, choosing to cut through some foliage to shorten the path to the ship. It was not until twenty minutes after leaving the Australian's body that the vampire finally reached his boat, leaping aboard and making a bee line for the wheel thingy. The lava was nearly upon the cove where his boat had remained hidden all this time. This was cutting it close. Hitting the throttle in reverse, his boat lurched backward and out of the cove, banging off the same rock he'd hit on the way in to further ruin the fancy paint job. Wasting no tears on a dead man's boat, Almos pushed the boat with all it had to get clear of the island's shore and back into the open ocean. This entire trip had been a nightmare. He just wanted to go home.