Seneca and Versail

[13:34] "It iss- a familiar face, yes? Do not play the fool with thiss- serpent. It will skip the formalities, and ask what are you seeking?"

Versail cants their head, slit gaze still upon the one in question.

"Death?"
(Versail)
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[13:38] Violet hues settled upon Versail's shifting from Sienne as they did so. The drakanite's lips curled upwards into a soft smile.

"Death? A lot of your kind ask that. No, I'm simply seeking to to keep those weaker than me safe."

A mithril hand, settled evenly upon the brass pommel of the drakanie's blade. "From creatures like you. However, I deplore violence. If you would kindly surrender? We can see to it that you are taken care of. Please and thank you."
(Seneca)
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[13:38] Sienne whispers something.
[13:38] Seneca says, "Also... I live here so you know... I had been seeking a bed and stuff to."
[13:38] Sienne asks, "... Upstairs?"
[13:38] Seneca says, "Yeap."
[13:39] Seneca says, "Tyrith gave me a key."
[13:39] Sienne says, "I... See."
[13:39] Seneca says, "Something about a fairy should live in a fairy castle."
[13:40] "It doess- not care for the details. It had thought to leave you to your own as it felt this would be boring... Though you speak to it as if though it is a necessity to answer."

It's apathetic gaze comes to a close, suffocating, demonic energies emanating from the shard it draws upon.

"It will lay you to rest if you desire. A quick, and swift defeat since one seeks to play with fire."
(Versail)
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[13:43] "Oh, I wouldn't worry about me to much. After all... Dragon's rarely worry about the flames."

As they spoke, that sword at there hip was drawn outwards. They looked around for a moment and then returned there gaze towards Versail.

"Though, be warned I won't be holding back against the likes of you. Just as Exarch Queen didn't."
(Seneca)
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[13:45]
{LOAD GAME}

[13:54] This wasn't the time for him to be holding anything back. He recognized the demon from it's fight with Robin. That was a fight that he'd believed to be far out of his league and now it was time to see if he was strong enough.

Strong enough to punish those demons who sought to slay and maim. She shook his head, those softly golden bells of Lumi's jingling. At the same time from his sash he pulled a softly glowing golden potion. Bringing it up to his lips to take a long drink.

Feeling the power course through him he tilted his head down and charged. Deftly doing what he could to avoid the explosive waves of flame and occultism. Getting in close to rip and tear into the demon.

But for now? It was anyone's guess as to who would emerge the victor.
(Seneca)
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[14:01] Everyone was afforded one opportunity to best the demon in any fashion, and as such it'd begin to question just what it was that'd bring about even the glimpse of a mistake made. The occult which twists, and flows from its being flickers to that of an even more menacing element, further imbuing the flames with a sense of ferocity that'd keep its opponent at bay.

Exhaustion does not show within its features. The focus of those slender pupils spoke of not but certainty. The very occult which seeps from its being pulls upon the reserves of his spirit, hunger having only risen as it'd attempt to feast upon one's mana from the source.

Seneca had indeed chose a formidable opponent, though hopefully she would come to see victory. Or at least, escape from the beast's jaws once it'd had gained its ground.
(Versail)
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[14:03] ** Versail has inflicted an injury upon Seneca. ("Temporary Injury", "Temporary Injury", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (4 days)") **
[14:17] In a battle of endurance, it appeared the serpent was much more prepared than that of his opponent. Its scale limb is lifted at times to deflect the blade from its vitals, blood seeping from where one's strikes had either slashed across its arm, or managed to break beyond its defenses.

Patience however prevailed in the final moments of their endeavor. Seneca charged ahaead, and as such flames surged forward, pushed to an ever familiar brink of instability until the air combusts. Fire consumed the ooposition in not but a brilliant flash, its shockwave having been enough to send the swordsman careening back into the woods.

"Not bad. Perhaps it should have been more avid... The flesh, it's much more refined than anticipated. Do not come again, or it will not be so kind as to pursue without the intentions of indulging."

There was always next time, though for now the demon would tend to its wounds and leave with its captive as intended.
(Versail)
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[14:31] Seneca says, "And edit this one."
[14:33] Unease settled in Sienne's heart as a man(?) she was sparsely acquainted with fell subject to Versail's searing battering. It was only moments prior when they were engaging in what could be considered amiable rivalry.


When all was said and done, she languidly tapped to his person and withdrew her sword from its side-strapped scabbard.


The blade is plunged into the ground, its tip thrust deep into the earth to withstand the weight of her kneeling form. Pain, visceral stinging, clawed at her soul with every silent prayer resonating in her mind, prompting tears to streak down her face.

"Perhaps this tarnished edge would find better use in the hands of someone with more tenacity than myself."

Attached to its hilt was a message wrapping it around.


She trailed away and assumed position near the demon.
(Sienne)
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[14:34] {ITEM} Traded item with Sienne: Paper
[14:40] It was close, so close but the rattling of there bones was starting to shake Seneca up. They could feel as those ivory constructs that were designed by the great Kruas shook and billowed with his tampering.

Who was he to twist that design?

Perhaps that's why as the battle wore on longer and longer. Yet, in that moment where fatigue and lose where the most likely was when one had to decide who they were. That is why they hefted that great nyeshk blade, dulled with a wetstone, and rushed into the fray.

Serpentine hues blazed red and purple, the powers of the sylvanium potion coursing through his body as he kept up the assault. Explosions and flames licked at his frame and as the did so the Dragon felt a deep desire to be more.

They pushed that frame of Kraus' design further and further. The longer the fighting went the larger Seneca seemed to grow. As they sought to bring there full power to bear against Versail. There flesh and scale'sripping as bones broke the surface.

Yet, even with that effort they found themselves cast back into the distance with a fiery explosion. Striking a great oak they found themselves cast to the ground. With some effort they stood, the words of the serpent whispering across the distance.

That mithril prosthesis came to grip her arm. Nursing the burned limb as best they could while maintaining the grip ont here sword. Dragonic talons upon the right arm twitched in pain.

"... I'm sorry Sienne, it seems I won't be wresting more of these demons from this world." It wasn't hard to tell that the former Knight had the intention of freeing the demon's capture.

That burned arm rose to point towards Versail. "You're to kind but you'll find I'm stubborn. When next we meet demon? You'll be felled. That I promise you."

Then they looked to Sienne as they spoke. Watching as they struggled with the blade. The drakanite's eyes narrowed for a moment as they realized something they perhaps should have known.

The Demons weren't just killing those they'd taken back of course. Yet, a part of Seneca had refused to think so deeply into the horrors of what happened within the Tower.

Easier to fight every demon and occultist he could find tyring to push themb ack.

THe blade was place before them. A hand reached out, the the burned dragonic one. Gripping the hilt for a moment... He looked upon the woman for a moment. It was clear there paina nd it resonated within the empath.

It was a deep thing, the pain of one who'd lost something dear but what? What could they have suffered so terribly? Tears welled evenly in his own eyes. Easy things as they where. Wetting her cheeks as the head shook. Those soft bells jingling.

"I'll see to it that; it's used to save more of the people."

Watching as they returned to the demon's side those addled bloodshot eyes shifted onto him. Looking closely at what the serpent looked like.

Then with an unfurling of his great leathery wings. The drakanite took to the sky; rapidly flying away.
(Seneca)
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