Gaius Cassel vs Almost Lorand FINAL ROUND

Through various means (player dependent), each fighter has been informed there is someone looking to kill them. All they know is a name and basic physical description. They also know that it will happen at 1:00 PM at Kings Island. There are many people there, meaning a confirmation of the target is preferred, but nothing would stop someone from attacking the first person they see resembling the enemy. If the fight is brought public, police will arrive in two posts with security guards trying to stop the violence as soon as it happens. It is currently 11:30 AM.

Gaius awaited his target at the centre of the park; with all the noise it would be more than easy to locate someone who didn’t have a heartbeat. He finished a polystyrene cup of bad coffee and put it in a bin nearby, things were crowded and it could pose a problem. He wore sun glasses over his bandages to obscure them; unless someone was to get a good look at him they wouldn’t know his disability.
His gun was on his back, no-one paid him any mind though as he kept his back against a tree. It all worked in his favour, and if all went well today would be a good day…

OOC:  "with all the noise it would be more than easy to locate someone who didn’t have a heartbeat" <= in the current context this line doesn't make sense.  If anything you'd think all the additional noise would mask somebody moving among the crowd without a pulse.  

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The useful tricks and secrets that the study of ancient religions offered never ceased to amaze him.  Protective measures, voodoo rituals and many others were readily available when one knew where to look but perhaps the most useful of them all was Balan's Wisdom.  Calling upon the supernatural forces of another plane of existence, Almos had questioned his supporters regarding hazards to his health some time ago.  As expected, there was a man out there eager to have the Hungarian's head.  Through his ritual, Almos had learned three things in advance; the assassin's name, the location where the attack would occur and the time at which the attack would occur.  1:00 PM at Kings Island, a small tourist trap isolated from most of society.  Though he wondered what would even bring him there in the first place, Lorand had learned long ago to not take Balan's Wisdom for granted.  It was because of his respect for the ritual that Almos had arrived at the amusement park well before 1:00 P.M.  The time was currently 11:30 A.M. and the vampire stood in the midst of the bustling crowds, ready to begin his preparations.  

He had a basic description of his opponent but to try and find only him in this mass of people would be tedious and not to mention dangerous.  Rather than put up with all that nonsense, Lorand would do the sensible thing and get the masses on his side.  Strolling down a side street three blocks distance from the center of the Kings Island, Lorand approached a group of strapping young men apparently on vacation.  Smiling brightly, he waved to them and drew in closer with his arms outstretched as if offering a hug.  Right about the time that they began to question what he was doing, the vampire's fangs were sucking blood from the first one's throat before ripping out his corotid artery and moving on to the next.  In the span of a few seconds, half a dozen young men were on the ground motionless, their blood consumed by the vampire.  They wouldn't stay that way for long though, in mere moments their corpses would rise, reanimated as shambling ghouls enslaved to the vampire's every command.  The former monk had two simple orders planted in the minds of each of his ghouls so far, commands which would be instilled in every ghoul his creatures created; multiply and seal off the amusement park.  

His bloody slaves would carry out their master's will immediately, moving to bite and create more ghouls.  Six would become twelve, twelve would become twenty-four, twenty-four would become forty-eight and so on and so forth exponentially.  While his ghouls fed, so too did Almos.  Moving smoothly through the streets circling the grounds, Lorand drank and ripped his way through the larger crowds, leaving them dead or panicked in his wake.  Those that did die due to the vampires fangs would simply rise like the others and spread the infection.  Almos, moving at great speed in a circular motion, kept his distance from the park's center relatively consistent.  It was the center of the facility after all so it made sense to spread his army around it as much as possible.  If his prey was within the park already, in a short while his options for escaping it would be little more than pipe dreams.  If he was outside the park, he'd still have to face down the entirety of King Island's population before long in order to get a shot at the vamire.

OOC: I refer to the fact that when Almos approaches then there’ll be a gap in the sound, a point from which no sound is coming from. I.e. a dead spot, but meh.

Gaius heard the panic start, the park went quiet as things were turned off and rides stopped. The power was cut to the rides to try and find out exactly what was happening, the noise was merely a distraction to the screams as they spread. Giving a small chuckle the werewolf prepared, his contact had promised a good hunt, a Hungarian man stronger than anyone he’d ever seen and now that promise was proved to be true.
From the sounds of things his opponent was a vampire on a rampage, the sound of footsteps slow and ominous grew louder. Ghouls, no other things had such daunting steps of ranks like them.
And as the first screams sounded the werewolf turned, he allowed his veins to bulge and his teeth to sharpen. His combats bulged as his muscles contorted, back curved and within a few seconds his pitch black fur grew. The pain was immense, it never got comfortable but it felt good in a way. He felt his aggressiveness grow as the beast took a small measure of control, his teeth became dagger like fangs in his muzzle, and his palms became covered in pitch black fur as well as developing claws that could rip a man in two with a solid swipe.
He felt more packed, more developed muscle filling his frame and made up for his otherwise slim build. When it was done he took note of everything, the ghouls were moving and he was all but unnoticed as people surged around trying to find some sort of refuge. He ran through the people, the crowd either moved out of his way or was knocked out of his bulk. He was going to hunt; he was going to enjoy killing this vampire wherever he was, most likely hiding in his ghastly army.

The panic had been expected but it didn't matter.  These parks did such a nice job of maintaining security gates to keep people entering and leaving in an organized fashion, there was no way in hell that frenzied mob would be able to squeeze through the single file gates before the ghouls infected them.  Between his efforts and those of his original ghouls, Almos' army was growing at an exponential rate.  With almost a hundred people killed by the supernaturally fast vampire and his devoted ghouls, the growth rate would only continue to rise as the bloody servants tore into the gathered crowds moving towards the exits.  Not bothering to try and find his needle in the haystack just yet, Lorand put all his efforts into creating as many ghouls around the park as quickly as possible.  With his top speed, he was in the process of circling the park in a matter of minutes, leaving a trail of dead male tourists in his wake.  He'd made sure to only target males in his own run, uninterested in creating any more vampires.  The ghouls could turn the women.  Somewhere out there, the blind assassin was probably already searching for him.  That was fine, Almos welcomed the challenge and would happily play with his new chew toy when the time came.  However, Lorand had no intention of playing this on the other man's terms.  If the assassin wanted the vampire, he would need to come and get him.

OOC: Gonna there there's about 100 ghouls spread around the park and growing at this point.

Gaius moved around the less crowded edges of the park with urgency, out here the ghouls were scattered and that left his sonar to work on full. His bigger werewolf ears were taking in more sound, their sensitivity was keener than the smaller human ones he had. So taking a breath he realised that there was a series of footsteps faster than any ghoul, the Vampire…
The ghouls were blocking off the entrances, but apart from that they weren’t going to be causing him trouble. He ran towards the Vampire that was moving from him, at full speed he was catching up quickly. He was stopping to kill tourists and that was slowing him down, now all he had to do was catch him by surprise.
He came up behind the vampire as he was busy killing tourists; he was busy and seemed more than happy to await Gaius. Added to that was his smell, it was repugnant, he stank of foul sorceries and darkness. Not even blood could wash away that smell, so as he began to tear into a tourist the werewolf took his chance. He charged towardsAlmos’s back at full speed, his extra mass giving him a good load of momentum in the otherwise clear street. His fist streaked out with his force thrust into it, aiming for the wide target that was his opponent’s back.

Making his way through the slaughter, Almos continued issuing his mental commands to the ghouls spread throughout the park.  Multiply, multiply as much as possible.  All across the park, the blood stained zombies tore into the defenseless tourists huddled together in terrified clumps.  Other people simply trampled one another in their desperate attempts to escape and only made themselves even easier prey.  In less than an hour he could have this entire place transformed.  A bit excessive for a single opponent but it wasn't every day that he encountered a werewolf.  Besides when it was all said and done he could just unleash the army on the rest of the country and cause a little chaos.  Cutting down another potential servant, Almos whipped around to do a quick visual inspection.  He'd nearly circled the park by now so it was time to take stock.  From his peripheral vision, Lorand caught a strange sight moving towards him.  Turning around to get better view of it, Lorand couldn't believe it, an actual werewolf bearing down on him.  His iron clad sense of self-preservation kicking in, the vampire called upon his own supernatural speed and reflexes rivaling the lycan's own and dove to his right in a smooth roll to barely get out of the lycan's way.  Considering all the momentum that thing had, the vampire would have just enough time to get to his feet and recenter himself, focused on the hulking brute that lusted for his blood.  

By now the streets had become far less crowded, the tourists either trying to break through the growing horde of undead attacking them near the entrances or cowering in fear among the attractions as other undead methodically hunted them down.  Smirking at the lycan, Almos studied his beastly opponent.  He'd done research on werewolves but this was his first real life experience with one.  It lived up to the legends for the most part.  "Gaius Cassel is it?  I want you to know that I'm going to truly enjoy pulling out your intestines with my bare hands," the vampire said, his grin widening as he winked at the wolfman.

OOC: Ghouls count should be around 200 by now.

Gaius carried on for a pace then managed to stop himself; his opponent had rolled away in a semi impressive maneuverer. The Russian merely drew his ballistic knife into his left hand, and as his opponent started speaking he charged again. He closed the short gap between them with trademark efficiency; the ballistic knife went towards his right side; this was to try drag and across and disembowels the Vampire. But during this quick little onslaught his right hand went for his opponent’s arm, to get a grip on him to stop him from moving.
The most devastating of his attacks though was with his teeth, his mouth snapped forwards with pressure enough to smash rock towards the Hungarian’s throat. Even if he lowered his chin to protect himself then that wouldn’t be enough, his face would be wrecked by the huge set of fangs in Gaius’s mouth.

He was certainly an aggressive one, Almos would give the werewolf that much. No sooner had he asked the lycan his name, the beast was on him again with a knife in hand. The hulking beast came in using tactics not unlike those preferred by the Hungarian himself. Limit the movement of your prey and hit them hard while they were off balance, preferably from more than one place. However unlike the mewling fools that the vampire and werewolf presumably feasted upon, Almos had spent years making it a point to be a slippery bastard weaving his way out of tight situations through creativity and flexibility rather than brute force. Backpedaling to try and maintain distance, the vampire had a clear line of retreat as the few survivors that hadn't already joined his army were keeping a wide berth of the two superior monsters. Though the wolfman made a grab for Almos' left arm, the lycan's clawed fingers found only the sleeve of Lorand's overcoat. Well that was a pity, he'd liked this coat but it would need to go.

Collapsing in his stomach, Almos pulled his waist backward to duck the swing of the knife aimed at his stomach and thrust his unobstructed right hand forward. Clawed fingers outstretched, Almos' spear hand thrust was aimed at the advancing lycan's throat. Though he was no master of martial arts, Lorand had been in enough fights to understand basic body mechanics and hone his natural instincts. That whiffed sweep with the knife had crossed the lycan's center line, making it just a bit more difficult for that bite of his to flow smoothly. Even without the added benefit of that delay, Lorand's thrust had an inherent advantage in speed. His hand was closer to Gaius' throat than the werewolf's jaws were to Almos' neck. The jab to the neck wasn't an overly heavy strike, a factor which only added to its sudden speed, but it was targeting a vital point that the werewolf was essentially throwing into the vampire's attack. Impaling the beast's throat wouldn't be much trouble at all.

Confidence in his abilities aside, Lorand had no intention of remaining in what was obviously the lycan's preferred territory. With his waist already back and his arms relatively straight out in front of him, Lorand simply continued his backward motion as he threw his spear hand. Shrugging his shoulders forward was he did so, the vampire smoothly shrugged out of his black overcoat. Thanks to the lycan's grip on the coat to try and inhibit Almos' escape, the garment would come off cleanly in Gaius' grasp as if Lorand were a snake shedding his skin. Not all that inaccurate a comparison really. Some may have worried about the wolf trying something cute like releasing the coat as Almos shrugged out of it. However, this was a false risk when considered fully. Slashing, grabbing, biting and now faced with a stab at his own throat, the blind werewolf being able to process it all and realize the advantages of releasing the coat to try and bind Almos midway through his undressing was simply ridiculous.

And so the vampire would continue his backpedaling to make space, flicking his left wrist as soon as he was free of the overcoat while it was still encumbering Gaius' work space. The spiked tip of Enkidu lashed out like a fencer's stab, intent on piercing the coat (if it was still in the way) and continue on to thrust through Gaius' left eye. These wolves might have been tougher than most, but an eyeball was an eyeball. Piercing through it and the thin layer of bone behind it to reach the brain with Enkidu's tip would be child's play. Having learned from from his past battles using Enkidu, the vampire would draw Enkidu back around his forearm after it made contact with the werewolf like a boxer's jab in order to lessen the probability of the beast grabbing the weapon.

Even as the vampire battled the werewolf one on one, he'd begun preparations in order to put things further in his favor. With a grin spread across his features, the vampire broke and ran for the dead center of the park. His ghouls had a firm foothold throughout the park now, having turned almost have of the inhabitants and steadily working on the others. Leaving half of them to their original purpose of multiplication, Lorand mentally summoned half their number, spread evenly from around the park, to join him and target the lycan.

OOC: Ghoul count is at 400, 200 of which will arrive during my next post.

OOC: Never stated you were avoiding the throat bite
Gaius let the knife drop as he brought it back across air, the strike was quick and instead he went to grab the sun addled Vampire’s arm as his arm moved across to stop the throat jab. His mouth was full of blood and the Russian had a good grip on the flesh within, he threw himself back at that. His head came back dragging the Hungarian’s throat and all that lay within with him, he jumped back a few paces, blood dripped down his chin and he let the jugular and all the flesh fall. His right hand swept the coat away to the side somewhere, and as the chain came towards his eye he ducked underneath it. It smelt of decay, and it clinked as it went through the air making it impossible to miss.
The Russian drew his combat knife, awaiting to see if his opponent still stood.

OOC:  You are correct sir, I didn't avoid the bite.  I stopped it.  Considering the order of events listed, I'm calling shenanigans on you being able to swing the knife, realize you whiffed, drop the knife and then awkwardly reach up and around to catch the spear hand in the time it took me to jam you in the throat and put a stop to that bite.  With that in mind, I'm voiding both the catch and your bite.  Instead, I'll be taking your throat.  

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Dumb brute, just like I thought, Almos thought to himself as his clawed fingers sank into the lycan's throat, halting those razor sharp teeth before they could reach his pale neck.  Curling them as he leaped backward, the vampire's hand came away holding a fair piece of the werewolf's throat, including the Adam's apple.  Though the wounded lycan had evaded Enkidu, it was not all for naught.  That beast had dodged a swift and subtle attack hidden from view by the coat.  Monsters like them had enhanced hearing yes but this was something different.  Those coverings on the wolf's face suddenly made a world of sense.  He was fighting a blind lycan.  

As he ran off towards the heart of the park, Lorand tossed the destroyed handful of meat back at the mutilated monster.  "Fetch!" he called back while running to the center of the park, keeping an eye on the beast to make sure he didn't sneak off to parts unknown.  He'd humiliated the creature in it's preferred range of combat, badly wounded it and mocked it.  Chances were that the puppy was getting rather angry; perfect.  Passing vendor's carts on his way to the fountain that marked the center of the park, Almos grabbed a bright blue umbrella sticking out of a bin in an open air gift shop.  This sun was getting annoying fast, a bit of shade would be lovely as he watched the show.  Reaching the fountain at the center of the park, Almos turned and carefully awaited the arrival of his lycan chew toy.  He'd be slowed considerably from the bloodloss, if not already passed out.  

Almos' smile widened as the legion of ghouls he'd summoned had already begun lining up behind the fountain in a half circle.  It had been a simultaneous order to the masses which meant that the servants on the other side of the circle would be advancing as well.  Much like a tightening noose, the bloodthirsty masses would herd the lycan towards the center if he hadn't already pursued.  Deciding that there was no kill like overkill, Almos called in a few hundred more ghouls to join the party.  Leaving a substantial number to continue to multiply and seal the borders of the park, Almos could hear the faint echo of police sirens and gunshots.  Evidently the local authorities had been called in to try and instill a bit of order.  Unfortunately for them, regular weaponry was far from ideal in taking down ghouls.  They would simply be more bodies in Almos' ever growing army before long.    Placing them on the back burner for now, the Hungarian vampire tasted the werewolf's blood on his hand.  It was disgusting but oh well, it would do for what Almos had in mind.  Making a small cut in his other hand's palm, the former monk went to work preparing a circular sigil on the ground around his feet.

OOC: 600 ghouls total, 200 of which are now moving into the immediate area with another 200 arriving in my next post

Gaius powered through the pain, his steps unsure at first but picking up as he felt his strength return. The wound was serious, but compared to losing a limb the wound was relatively small in size and stopped bleeding nearly straight away. He didn’t need an Adam’s apple and he could still fight, so chasing after his opponent with intent the Lycanthrope kept his “eyes on the prize” so to speak. He swept up his knife when he ducked down and was now set, his legs pounded as he made pursuit. He sheathed his knife, and as he came into the square he got out his rifle.
He cocked it and made straight for the vampire as he started consuming Gaius’s blood, then when Gaius got within five paces he let out 15 rounds on fully automatic at his opponent’s chest before he could finish the circle and whatever he was doing.
He could smell his blood, if he could feel anger then he would be fuming, but he was a patient killer. Anger wasn’t apart of him, he only felt the urge to kill. Let’s see what you’re made of you little bitch

OOC:  So the blind werewolf is firing a relatively inaccurate automatic weapon while woozy from major blood loss and running to make it worse?  Oh yes, I can have all sorts of fun responding to the accuracy of those shots.  Also, you mentioned firing before I finished, but you never specified how far you let me get before you fired~

Here he comes the vampire thought as the lycan appeared at the far end of the central square.  As the wold readied a weapon, Almos mentally called in his ghouls who began to advance at an energetic loping pace comparable to a stumbling run.  Having already entered the immediate area, a squad of the undead legion was now on either side of Almos' circle, their heavy numbers forming a funnel towards the vampire while those behind Gaius continued their own advance at a hurried pace, sealing up the path that Gaius had entered from as the lycan continued his charge.  With the perimeter of ghouls essentially completed, Lorand had limited their playground to this open section of tile brick 30 yards in diameter.  Rows thick already, Almos could no longer hear gunshots in the distance which meant the police had been dealt with.  Time to bring in the rest of the cavalry.  

Almos, at his end, continued to work on his sigil at a furious pace.  The beast was bearing down on him, 20 paces...10 paces..6 paces.  Only a space the width of Lorand's hand remained in the circle as Gaius squeezed the trigger of his weapon.  Smirking darkly, Almos wiped his bloody hand the last few inches as the bullets flew forth from the weapon.  Lowering his head towards the ground, Lorand's chest dipped below the path of the bullets, the nature of the shots depriving them of some accuracy as the automatic fire sent the later shots a bit higher than their predecessors.  Like a seesaw, as Almos' head and upper body dipped down, he kicked his right leg backwards and up.  The ball of his left foot and his hands providing a tripod like support within his sigil, his right leg rose right into the path of Gaius' bullets without breaking their supernatural connection.  The full metal jacket rounds punched through Almos' ankle and calve, shredding muscle and bone as they blasted off the vampire's leg midway down the shin in a flurry of blood and bone chips.  

Gritting his teeth against the pain of having a limb violently shot off, the Hungarian funneled his pain into rage to steady himself and brought his ghouls into the conflict.  Having begun to advance for the lycan as he drew closer and closer to their master, the still advancing lycan was finally within range of their grabbing hands.  They would throw themselves into the advancing lycan, a pile of human bodies thrown without care for their own well being to halt the werewolf's advance and drag him back down to the ground using their ridiculous numbers.  Even if they could only slow him down, it would be a boon as the ghouls to the rear tightened the noose even more.  

OOC:  650 ghouls total, 400 in the immediate area with the last 250 en route.  The ghouls already present are advancing at a steady rate meaning by my next post out 50 yard arena will have shrunk to 25 yards across.

Gaius felt the pain and threw his gun to the side, his leg seemed to explode and with gritted teeth he tried to carry on. He bent down onto three legs; his mind was blank now as the pain streamed through him leaving only animalistic rage. His legs pushed, his body began rushing forwards the last five paces towards his tripod opponent. Rushing into the side of his opponent using his mass as a weapon, the lycan would knock him out of the circle if he collided with his unsteady opponent. While he did this one hand went to his belt and brought out his ballistic knife, streaming upwards towards his opponents stomach like a blur. His throat felt better, it had gotten shallower over the last few minutes and was now merely becoming a flesh wound.

OOC: Forgot to account for the ghouls bud.

Just as expected, the rage filled beast wasn't completely stopped by the simple loss of a limb. However, in the lycan's berserker rage to reach Almos, he seemed to had adopted tunnel vision blocking out the legion of ghouls throwing themselves into his path. Almost two dozen ghouls flung themselves onto the advancing lycan, gripped onto him with no regard for pain or danger. Though a single ghoul would be nothing before the werewolf, with their combined weight and strength as well as the wolf's awkward injured state, the beast's charge was halted before he could bring that favored knife of his into play. Though the lycan's bulk and momentum carried him forward to knock the vampire out of his sigil, the ghouls were already in position. The original two dozen were now trying to tighten their grips, working in unison to completely immobilize the werewolf's remaining limbs as more and more undead added themselves to the bloody pile. Each and every one of them adding their weight, strength and blind devotion to the new order Almos had given each of them: immobilize the wolf and rip him to pieces. As soon as each new ghoul found a grip, they would bring their terrifying jaws to bare to try and rip chunks of the lycan's battered flesh from his body. Having been knocked against the side of the fountain, Lorand lifted himself up to sit on sit on the edge of it and watch the show.

OOC: 400 ghouls in the immediate area, 250 arriving in my next post. "Arena" has shrunk to 25 yards across and will shrink to 12 yards by my next post.

Gaius Cassel, Soldier, lover, fighter, and a massive prick, and maybe not the second one. His situation black and frightful the werewolf wanted to get at least one over on the Vampire, so with a fire in his heart and an arm wriggled free of the press Gaius bared his teeth and decided to do something fun. It would be a first for him, but he was going to go out with a bang.
So his hand went underneath his chin, his muscles contorted yet his unlife only made him live through it. His muscles contorted snapped and said fuck you logic, and with a grin and a flourish the werewolf died. His blood splattered out as his hand shot forwards, trailing all the insides of his neck. The head was bang on target heading towards the Hungarian’s nose at high velocity, a final “fuck you coward” to the victor of their fight.

This day had not been fun. Honestly though, who would have enjoyed what Lorand had gone through today? He had his issues of course but he certainly didn't derive enjoyment from putting his life on the line. Excessive violence was more therapy than hobby for the vampire. Especially when the violence was used against a particularly aggressive playmate like the lycan his ghouls currently had pinned to the ground. This beast had been gunning for Lorand's life quite literally so a bit of payback was justifiable. However, fate seemed to have other plans. Wriggling an arm free, the wolf grabbed himself by the head and began pulling with great strength. What is he doing? He's not...no, couldn't be, Almos reasoned to himself. But he was immediately proven wrong as the lycan did indeed decapitate himself and fling his own head at Lorand in the process.

Blinking in complete awe, Almos awkwardly caught the flying head and simply stared into the dead lycan's eyes. What the fuck was that? No seriously, what in the blazes had this psycho been thinking? "Yep, I'm done," he said, tossing the head over his shoulder into the fountain behind him. Shaking his head, Lorand tried to put that sight out of his head. He'd done worse to other people but that, that was just weird. Hell, he didn't even feel the need to desecrate the remains now since he hadn't actually killed the poor mutt. Sighing, the vampire rubbed his aching stump of a leg and opened his stolen umbrella to shield himself from the oppressive sunlight.

"Just get me out of here. I just want to go home," Almos exclaimed to the ghouls before him. Following their master's command, the servants lifted the vampire comfortably onto their shoulders and carried him towards the park exit as he waited for his leg to regenerate. In the meantime, there was the matter of the rest of the ghouls spread throughout the park. Having no other use for them, the former monk mentally commanded them to exit the park and cause as much chaos as possible.