Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-11588669-20140208053126/@comment-11588669-20140308030827

He watched, carefully cataloguing her motions, her stances. The style was similar to what he'd seen it a few times when fighting Corbeaus, but not this...fluid. Nothing quite like it, really. They were always rigid, uniform in their motions, preferring to stick to tense stances and trying to draw him into a duel with blades, always assuming that their family and age over him gave them an edge. Those were easily dispatched.

Nox was stunned at the grace and fluidity she displayed, the lethal dance drawing his eye to the beauty of her from and face. He pulled the flute from his lips, and just watched. But his gaze shifted from stunned to something much more...primal. His mind seemed to call to him, his heart pleading. And these pleas snapped him from the cage his feelings were building. His eyes turned sub zero, his face morphed into a scowl. He set the flute on the table carefully, the whitewood a stark contrast to the darkness of the metal. He returned all of his weapons to their sheathes, and walked off into a different clearing, connected to the one before. On three sides, tall evergreens surrounded him, and the final was a clear view from the cabin to where he was. The distance was about a football field's worth, a decent amount of room between the two. Which meant, neither is in danger of the other.

He closed his eyes, envisioning the environment around him. The trees, the ground blanketed by soft powdered snow, the sky, a crystal blue, with few clouds. He slid one back, and inhaled. Enemies began appearing around him. Soldiers, all armed with close ranged weaponry with a few who had pistols.

'One, a large man with an equally large blade, stepped forward, holding his weapon with practiced ease. The other began fanning out behind him, flanking the young mercenary. The leader clasped his greatsword with both hands, and charged. Nox exhaled slowly, the tenseness in his form vanishing. The leader swung a devastating overhand, the blade whistling as it split the air. '

He stepped to the right, spinning. His hand was on the hilt of Nightfall's bladed form, the sword being drawn from its sheath slightly. His left leg hit the ground, bending enough flow with the momentum. His blade split the air in a smooth slash, taking the imaginary leader's head from his shoulders.

A bladesman came swinging in, weapon flashing in a horizontal arc. Simple, easy, pathetic.

Nox ducked low, the imaginary weapon going right above his head as his continued his spin. Nightfall flashed out in an arc of blackened steel, the rune inscribed blade shearing through non-existant flesh and bone as it bisected the man.

'An axman stepped in, weapon diving down in a brutal chop. Such a fool. Another corpse, one less man to worry about.'

The mercenary stepped out of the spin, just to the side of the strike, and slashed across the foe's hamstring. As he went down, Nox gripped his chin, and with a jerk broke his neck. He spun with the motion, executing his own overhead slash to take another enemy in the crown.

'The pistoleers all raised their weapons, aiming. They shouted something. I don't care. They're in my way, impeding my objective. '

Nightfall was tossed into the air, the imaginary men tracking the weapon instinctively. Nox's arms crossed, and flung outwards. Knives, lethal and razor sharp flashed across the clearing to embed themselves into trees. Turning, Nox caught his weapon in a reverse grip, and stabbed it behind him, taking another swordsman in the belly. Nightfall was dropped, and he shot towards the next man. He leapt up, over him, and twisted, gripping his head as he landed and slamming it into his knee. Turning, he drew his techknife, and slashed across another's belly. He kept this pattern up, never ceasing to move. The enemies began to blur together, until one came in with an arm blade at his head.

'Instinctively, he shot out his hand and clasped their wrist. It was narrower, feminine. The other arm came in, aimed at his torso. Nox let go, and swung his leg in a low roundhouse at her knee. With trained precision, she jumped over it, and came down with an ax kick at his head. Rather than block, he rolled to the side, and responded by gripping her arm, and yanking her down to take a knee to the stomach. He rolled across her back, arm still in his grip, expecting the female to stay where she was. She instead used the momentum to twist around a deliver an elbow strike to his jaw. He let the momentum twist him around, and he caught the next fist aimed at his head. Holding it he brought her in for a knee to the side. Her hand gripped his shoulder, preventing that. His hips ended up pressed against hers, his left leg in between her knees in a classic passionate dance form. He looked up, and saw ice blue eyes with pitch black hair. '