dullahan attack

A tendril of shadow reaches out from under the elbow of the dark knight, tapping Ambrose on the shoulder politely.
(Kanatan)

"..!"

Ambrose turns around - and perhaps to Kanatan's surprise, he isn't very bothered by the presence of a Dullahan. There's something about this child that is unnatural, isn't there..?

This spark in the eye.
There's something else.

"Oh! A ghost..."

"What is it?"
(Ambrose Roche)

The knight's consciousness takes a moment to absorb what he had just been called. The knight could not truly feel, but being called a ghost was an insulting gesture to it. That wouldn't do.

The light around the knight seems to become clouded, as if a dark shadow passes over the armoured figure, yet the sky remains clear. Tendrils of darkness creep out from between the gaps of the knight's armour, hissing quietly in the comfort of the artificial night.

"Ghost? Living one... you... insult me... with such... unkind words... pray... retract them... before I am... forced to... seek... compensation."

As the hollow voice comes from deep within the armour, echoing as if spoken in a large cavern, a thick tendril absent of light coils around the hilt of the greatsword at it's back.
(Kanatan)

A smile.

No, this was definitely not a normal child. Perhaps this was not a child at all. The experiences of Esshar have brought about certainty that just because something wears the face of one does not necessarily mean that's what they are.

As shown across the wars. And yet...

"Ahahahaha!"

He clasps his hands together, almost excited about the prospect of being faced with an adversity such as this. A fact that does not scare him in the slightest.

"A ghost! A phantom! A poltergeist, even!"

"I've seen many of you around. Always so bitter. Always looking for something.."

"Or someone."

The experiences he's had with those were numerous and great. Had he not known better, perhaps he could even say that was the majority of his experiences.

"No. I don't fear you." He smiles.

"Now..."

"Were you going to tell me what you wanted? Or it'll be entertainment instead, hm?"
(Ambrose Roche)

Initially, Benedict thinks to have recognized the Dullahan as one of his previous customers. But he's mistaken, and so maneuvers past both the smaller, unafraid girl and the headless specter.

He speaks sarcastically, "Good luck."

The private's schedule was far too busy to be devoting time to this confrontation. Besides, someone with that much confidence and lack of fear didn't need someone else.

He'd be on his way, just as cautious as he'd been moving before.
(Benedict Casval)

Kanatan thought he had made a very generous offer. But that offer to save face and retract his insult was disregarded by the strange child. The knight didn't really care why they were as they were, for those of the Mire was unusual in myriad ways - another just didn't stand out very much. All the knight truly cared about was gaining compensation for the slight he had just endured.

The greatsword is pulled from his back, the dark bands holding it in place retracting under the armour as it's raised over his shoulder and placed into the palm of it's hand. The gauntleted fist of the knight holds it out to one side without apparent effort, despite the titanic proportions of the blade compared to the knight itself.

"Then... you shall... suffer... the concequences…"

Without further warning, the outwards-held blade is brought around in a looping arc that causes the air to whistle as it's sliced through, aiming to strike at Ambrose where he stood.
(Kanatan)

Excited.

Could he not see that Ambrose harbors no fear at all? That this child is not an ordinary child by any means... and even now, when the Dullahan seeks to make his approach in such manner, and engage in combat all the same..

Ambrose ushers quietly.

"Finally."

What comes next is unexpected, to say the least - the Occultic energies swarm Ambrose, very much potent for someone so young, and draw at his environment, and the Dullahan, all the same.

The sclera of his eyes turn pitch black; his body surges with unnatural strength.

"I've waited for this for so long."

Hunger.

Endless hunger.
(Ambrose Roche)

Could he see it yet?

The endless swarm of poison and the dark magics alike, combined into suffocating miasma that permeates the air ruthlessly- it was, perhaps, the folly of Dullahan's ways to make an assumption that the child was weak. Then again...

This was no mere child at all.

"Ahahaha!"

"So exciting!"

The blows are dealt, and cuts appear on his body - yet they seem to heal at a remarkable speed. No doubt this is the part of the reason why he perseveres so much..

And still...

He wasn't even fighting at his best?

"Come, come!"

"I wasn't even doing my best yet!"
(Ambrose Roche)

What was originally going to be a gallant attempt to save this poor, poor peer from the fate of grisly demise by the dullahan is now nothing more than a reminder of where he is on Esshar. Darkness, consuming darkness. It prompts a sneer, along with the raising of his rather long revolver.

"I'm getting rather tired of seeing that black mana."

Flashes of Andromeda's ruinious consumption of the lifestream prompt a small spark of stress growing across the young man's face. But, his revolver stays at his side as he observes and makes his eventualy departure.

What was going to be a robbery disguised as a 'save' would simply not happen.

Too much trouble for how far away from home he was.
(Benedict Casval)

A struggle between the two begins, and dark magic and poison conspire to push the Dullahan back. Despite the greatsword being used to repeatedly strike the child it now fought, the wounds healed faster than they could be dealt.

Something wasn't right. But the knight knew not why or how. All he knew is he had to finish the fight.

Regaining his footing, the knight adopts a different stance now. A defensive one, sword twirling and looping ready to attempt to intercept. The consciousness hoped it could hold out long enough to figure out why his attacks were so ineffective, but it did not look good for him.

The knight braces for another onslaught all the same.
(Kanatan)

Ironic, isn't it?

What Dullahan faced today was not just a child - but a monster, wearing the mask of one. The sword sweeps at Ambrose, yet it is evidently clear that such is simply not an efficient task to do; the blows are shrugged off with relative ease..

This supernatural healing constantly contributing to his survival.

"Oh my..."

"You make me so happy!"

The growing miasma of Occult and Poison was too much- suffocating even the likes of Kanatan, for he would feel the growing curse of the dark magics stretching out and weakening him, to the point that even he would feel it.

It's almost a reminder of how it feels to be mortal again.
To suffocate, to experience pain..

"Do you feel it yet?!"

"Isn't it wonderful! I was so worried that all I've learned would not be worth it, but..."

"You showed me otherwise. Let me give you my thanks."

The swirling maelstrom of dark poison consumes him- drowning, sweeping him in the manner most horrible. Had he not been a deadly spectre himself, then perhaps this could be the very end of him...

Mortals aren't meant to survive such.

"Ah.."

"How beautiful it is.."
(Ambrose Roche)

Blow after titanic blow is delivered to Ambrose, the restraints of the living not applying to the dreadknight that walks the earth. Yet for every blow dealt, the knight is bombarded by an ocean of poison. Despite not being alive, the living shadows that control the creature weakens as the fight goes on.

Blows become less forceful, movements become sluggish, and eventually the knight is forced down to one knee, jabbing his point into the ground as dark magic and poison alike conspire to rob it of the strength needed to continue the battle. Perhaps, if his memories were not blocked during whatever foul ritual brought him back, he might've felt like a mortal again. As it was, the creature only felt animosity and confusion.

Something was not right with this mortal. It was more. It was too strong. Too quick to heal. Yet, despite the knight holding out and trying to analyse what it was he faced, it came to naught.

Having rested just enough for the shadows that fuel it to regain a little bit of drained strength, the knight hoists his sword over his shoulder and moves away.

Not a word is uttered from the knight, the only sound being the constant hissing of dark living tendrils and the clanking of mail and plating as it disappears into the forest.
(Kanatan)

The dark was his own domain too.

But he makes no effort to pursue the knight. Instead, he merely stares on forward- an ever-lasting smile still remaining upon his features. Satisfied with this result...

More than one could imagine.

"Go on." He wafts his hand, as if to 'shoo' him away.

"I've had my fun. Off you go."

And yet, he stays right where he is, quietly humming and tilting his head every now and then. A disturbing scenery - with his eyes remaining entirely open, staring at Kanatan the whole way through.

Woe be upon any that would have to witness the true nature of Ambrose in the future.
(Ambrose Roche)