Hang 'Em High [Cael/Gaius/Invites]

[Cael Gladius]

7:10 PM
18th January, 2012
Near the Colosseum of Rome/The Great Undercroft

Tying his black bandanna around his head, Cael checked around him to make sure there were no followers. The streets of Rome were usually quiet, but at times they could surprise a man. Stepping into an alleyway near the old gladiatorial grounds, the demon hunter spun around quickly as some of the marble wall crumbled off and landed behind him. Peering upward, he gave a soft hum before continuing onward. Holding his hand outward, he watched as the area around him grew darker and smirked. Passing onward into Inferis, he let out a slight cough before bringing the bandanna down and around his mouth. He'd never get used to the way the air seemed to choke you around here.

Jumping up, he pressed his foot against the, now blackened, wall and kicked outward. Repeating this, he soon found himself on top of the crumbling construct, gazing out into the realm of Lucifer and his pawns. Cael came here about once a week for what he liked to call 'intense training', referred to as such because... well, the threat of dying was never really anything to scoff at. Still, it was kind of his line of work as well, being a hunter and all, but demons and the filth they chose to dwell in had never concerned the swordsman.

Cael just liked to find a challenge every once in a while.

Holding his hand out once more, his hair seemed to toss about as his pupils dilated. A tuft of flame spread from his wrist and into his palm, growing larger until it took the shape of his blade. "Honō no hajimari." He spoke the name of the sword as the flames dispersed, flowering outward into the foggy night of the demon realm. In his hand was a completely solid weapon, having been forged from his very soul. This katana had sealed the fate of many, and it would continue to do so as long as Cael Gladius lived and breathed.

[Gaius Octavian Skipio]

He sat there, in the center of the crumbling coliseum, as still as a statue, and as cold as death its self. He listened to the world about him, hoping with out hope that some poor fool would come to him. But none ever did for fear of death at his hands. He couldn't blame them for that, most beings wished to hang onto their lives even if said lives where pointless and filled with nothing but torment. Still, as Gaius sat there he wished to be challenged, wished for an attempt to be made on his life. today after all... Was a good day to die.

His ears perked at the sound of approaching footstep and his eyes slowly opened before he stood, dust and ash falling from his body. He turned to face the sound, his body changing as he did. Turning from the simply clothed man to that of a monstrous legionarie. His crimson eyes shinning out of the dark confines of his helmet with a piercing intensity. His pale gold armor seeming to glow softly in the dim light that came from over head.

His scutum leaned against his side ready to be lifted at a moments notice, his sword say loosely in its scabbed at his belt. He was still again, after the change had taken him, his ashen skin making him seem like nothing more then a statue to the warriors that had fought and died in this very place. "IS TODAY A GOOD DAY TO DIE!" Gaius's voice boomed out, not caring if the other could understand a word he said in his native tongue.

[Cael Gladius]

As Cael entered the coliseum grounds, a smirk passed across his features beneath the black cloth covering his face. There, in the very center of the arena, as if fate had destined this moment to come, was a demon waiting for him. This one wasn't like the lot he usually killed off, however. This one appeared, at least mostly, human. The only difference was that the big guy's skin and tattoos were definitely unnatural. Lifting the bandanna, he spit upon the ground as he stepped forward, spinning his katana in his hand.

Next came the transformation. This caught the swordsman off guard, even if it wasn't for long. He'd seen stranger, definitely, but never so much brute power displayed in a single change in form. He watched as the armor appeared about the demon, a sword and shield entering its hands. This was definitely going to be interesting.

"IS TODAY A GOOD DAY TO DIE!" Oh, it spoke too! He noticed the gravely Latin right off the bat, even if he couldn't speak it himself. This spartan was full of surprises, wasn't he? Getting into his first stance, Cael bent his back leg down for support, his front leg out in front of him. He'd never start out to go for the kill, that would make things move too fast. Waving the katana around slightly, he finally spoke to the other warrior.

"Most of you that talk know how to speak English, why don't we try that instead?" Not moving from his position, he eyed the hulking beast up and down before bringing his free hand up and pulling the bandanna down around his neck. The swordsman nearly coughed as the stale air came flooding into his nose, but he held his composure. "I'm not sure about you, but I like to know the names of my opponents." Another smirk and he flipped the sword lazily in his palm, spinning it around idly. "The name of yours is Roman Cael Gladius IV."

[Gaius Octavian Skipio]

Gaius had eyes for nothing but the man, his vision focusing in such a way that everything else was but a blur. For most this battle focus could have spelled their doom. But not for him, he had spent more life times practicing his craft then most any other and that gave him the instincts he needed to do battle in this way. He watched the way this boy handled his sword and raised a single eyebrow. There was some skill in the way he handled the blade, but to the Romans eyes it seemed far to... Flamboyant. But he was young, and show boating was part of youth.

"Most of you that talk know how to speak English, why don't we try that instead?" All he did was nod his head slightly, though Gaius's eyes never left those of the man who would soon dance with him. To do such a thing would be to invite a strike, for men no longer had any concept of honor. He watched as Cael moved his bandanna and started to choke on the air, wondering how often the boy had stepped in this place. "I'm not sure about you, but I like to know the names of my opponents." A smirk came to his enemies lips and he spun his sword in a lazy arrogant circle. Gaius did not move, his face did not change. He stood rock still as one thought floated across his mind. Pride comes before the fall. "The name of yours is Roman Cael Gladius IV."

That was a good name, a strong name, a Roman name. Gaius nodded his head one last time and hoisted his weapons into his arms and hands. "My name is Gaius Octavian Skipio of the First Roman legion." His voice was harsh in this form, sounding like the roar of a fire. "IS today a good day to die Cael?" He took a relaxed stance then, both his weapon and shield at the ready for what he knew was to come. "I for one truly hope it is." The Last Centurion gazed into the eyes of the man who might kill him, and in his mind consigned him self to death.

[Cael Gladius]

"My name is Gaius Octavian Skipio of the First Roman legion." Cael let the name linger within his head for a moment. This demon's name was almost human. He'd never even considered to remember what his sensei had told him about the servants of Lucifer and the Hell Princes until now. Some of those he would cut down had once been men before, Inferis having plagued their mortal souls and turned them to the tides of darkness and chaos. This creature before Cael was something of pure evil, yet... He seemed intelligent and with reason. He didn't attack ravenously and in hunger like the other demons he had fought up until this point.

No. This demon, Gaius, he was something closer to man than Cael would like to admit.

"IS today a good day to die Cael?" This question caused the man to cock an eyebrow, his sword stilling within his grasp; fingers tightening around the handle of his blade. "I for one truly hope it is."

Simply nodding, the swordsman pushed his leg farther back, shifting his front foot drawing a line in the sand beneath them. He wouldn't pass this line until the battle begun, and he knew it had yet to. Sometimes, even before bloodshed, there was time for simpler things. There was still time for words.

"Today, I think, would be a fine day to die. Perhaps I've met a worthy opponent in this place at last." And with those words, he crossed his line in the sand. Pushing his back leg forward, his stance seemed to shift mid-sprint, his arms falling to his sides, head at the forefront of his dash. The two's blades would do battle now, and in the moment before Cael made his first slash he could have sworn his katana spoke to him. It told him that this would be the finest battle he'd had since Maestro Matiz first drew his own blade against him.

[Gaius Octavian Skipio]

The man drew a line in the sand, both metaphorically and literally as he stood before him. He could see it in the others eyes, in the way he moved. He was not as of yet ready to commit to battle, though he was drawing ever closer. The ashen giants lips curled in an unseen smile as his eyes brightened at the very thought. Maybe just maybe this battle would last more then a few moments, maybe he would actually have to fight for his life. Though he had already visualized the end, with this mans broken and twisted body before him breathing his last breath as they looked into each others eyes.

"Today, I think, would be a fine day to die. Perhaps I've met a worthy opponent in this place at last."

He didn't say a word, the time for words had ended. Instead have gave a salute and clasped his fist over his heart before resuming his stance. One foot was slightly behind ready to push his massive bulk forward when the other charged. He knew the blade his enemy was using, he had fought against others who had weilded those same single edged blades, and while they had all been capable they had been at a significant disadvantage due to his shield and armor.

The man moved suddenly, his weight shifting mid stride and Gaius moved to answer. Pushing off with his back leg he moved his shield in front of him and with all his bulk and strength behind it pushed it out ever so slightly directly in the mans path angling it up. He kept his own blade low, ready to parry if the man proved to be faster then expected. Still it was hard to stop a head long sprint and he knew it unlikely he could change his coarse when he had dedicated him self to it so fully. The battle was joined!

[Cael Gladius]

Cael's sword made contact with Gaius' shield, just as the demon pushed outward in attempt to jar his hunter back from his dash. Sparks flew from the two metals as they clashed, the blade of the samurai's katana sliding up the length of the golden shield as Cael arched his back to dodge the blow. His gaze darted from his opponent's eyes and to its main hand weapon, a huge and deadly blade in comparison to his own. This Roman soldier was definitely well trained in defense, but he would be slower than the human he fought. He slid forward, his knees nearly touching the other warrior, but performed a backflip to dodge the second attack that would be coming.

Cael could feel the parry that was attempted breeze past his head before he landed back on his feet, taking a slight hop back to regain some distance. That shield and armor was going to be the biggest problem he faced here. It left him with little places to attack, and where he could was likely to either be defended by the shield or the attempt to cut him would leave the green haired swordsman gutted or decapitated by the massive blade Gaius carried.

Spitting to the ground once more, Cael began to strafe, his eyes never leaving the demon in front of him. He thought out various plans of action as he decided on a more favorable position in comparison to his oppenent's. Neck? If he didn't get the slice spot-on, he wouldn't hit anything but helmet. Arms? Well, the one with the shield was a negative from the beginning, but maybe if he could damage the one wielding the sword he could slow Gaius down even more.

Holding out Honō no hajimari once again, he bent both knees this time. Cael's katana was being held over his own head now, other arm placed palm out as if he had his own shield . Then an idea struck the young man. If he couldn't break through this golden defense, maybe he could tire the one behind it out.

[Gaius Octavian Skipio]

The man was light on his feet, there where no if and or buts about that. But he doubted his style of combat would make it past his defenses. The katana after all, was a slashing weapon whos main strikes where all focused at the neck and head. Even if this man decided to do something none-traditional with his weapon he doubted he could get more then a cut or two in on his more lightly armored parts... So what would this mans plan be?

The other man circled him and he turned to keep track, his eyes locked on the other man waiting for the strike he knew was coming. Gaius held his shield out before him, keeping that wall of steel and wood between the two of them. His gladius held low and at the ready, so that when the time came he could gut the one before him. He watched the way the other man moved, how his muscles twitched and flowed beneath his cloths and skin. Learning how his enemies body responded to its command. Just by watching he could see that this one had trained, his body moved like it knew its way about a battle field. Tense, yet loose ready to spring.

The man switched stances, hands and weapons raised above his head... Leaving his body wide open for an attack. Had this man never fought a foe who used a shield before? As he stood he was just begging him to rush in and attack... Maybe that was it. Maybe he had something planned. He smiled, not that Cael could see it, and decided from taking advantage of the obvious opening. No, he would play the waiting game, and he unlike Cael had more time then he could ever use.

His shifted his feet bracing him self on his forward leg and keeping his back one loose so that he could step and move at a moments notice. and let his shield rest lightly on the ground, ready to be brought back up on but a whim. It was time to play the waiting game, and he knew that mortals where more then a tad impatient.

[Belial]

A large 15 foot figure stepped into the fray, shield laden on his left, and to his right a great sword he wields as if it were but a stick to twirl around. Undoubtedly of great weight the two, his armor black as to his right stood the human that be trespassing his realm, and to his left, a demon whom he held not a single regard but in that he displays far more individuality than a normal Roman should be. Reeling his great sword back, he swung it onward to the green haired man, whom was well in his range as the great weight of the sword hefted towards his torso in the general mass, whereas the shield laid inert and inclined not to act against the Roman. He was not in the range of the shield bash, and he did not kindle such attention from the Archdemon in the vicinity.

"YOU CAME HERE FOR BATTLE, MORTAL? YOU SHALL GET THAT BATTLE, MORE THAN YOUR FILL. I SHALL ENJOY THIS." He spoke in his guttural Scottish English, promptly ignoring the Legionnaire as if it were he did not register in his presence as but naught but a pebble on the side of the road. He HATED the fact that those TWO LITTLE SHITS are FIGHTING in HIS FUCKING COLISEUM which HE HASN'T EVEN OPENED UP for A FUCKING BATTLE IN THE FIRST PLACE. But since they want to FIGHT SO BADLY in HIS COLISEUM, THOSE TWO WILL GET IT. Starting with the green blueberry that is his first target of his wrath.

Standing far beyond the range of the katana as the great weight of his great sword made onward to Cael's abdomen, aimed towards such junction as to bifurcate it from one unto two, hence what intent laid. A blur far beyond the speed of any swordsmen for it were not even a great weight, but light considered in the hands of Belial. The dust gathered underneath the weapon, following in a trail as the very force itself can easily cleave through a tank if placed in the path of the vast Archdemon's path unto his weapon.

Quite the paradox it was for his appearance to be so spontaneous and sudden, unseen and yet when what debut be made, the black armored giant were within the confines of the arena quite so.

[Cael Gladius]

Cael flipped his sword and began his step toward his opponent. However, even when one thinks their attention is immovable from their target, it is hard to ignore the presence of great evil as it approaches. The swordsman stopped in his tracks, eyes widened but momentarily, as he saw the frightening black knight step into the fray. He'd truly never felt anything like he did in the presence of this giant. The swirling darkness that was this creature's power was far greater than Cael could have ever dreamed in his worst nightmares. The warrior, stomping forward, was fear itself in the eyes of the samurai.

"YOU CAME HERE FOR BATTLE, MORTAL? YOU SHALL GET THAT BATTLE, MORE THAN YOUR FILL. I SHALL ENJOY THIS." The lumbering mass came onward, the soldier who was Cael's previous foe naught paid attention to in the slightest. It stopped its great stride, out of the man's range, and swung its gargantuan blade with such ferocity, such speed, that no man or beast could have hoped to dodge.

Luckily, Cael's blade caught the massive instrument of destruction, a slight spark coming from the indestructible sword. The force of the blow was enough so that, even with the clash of chance, it slung the smaller of the two far across the coliseum, landing within the stands in a cloud of dust and flying rubble. There were no signs of movement from the settling debris for a few seconds, but eventually a hand brought itself to the back of one of the seats. Cael lifted himself up, shaking, trembling from the might of the beast. There would be no defeating this opponent. Still, somehow, he found the courage to speak from his bloodied mouth.

"What is your name, demon?! What name could fit a warrior of such might...?" He looked back to the Roman. Would he simply stand there? Did he work for this other warrior? "And you... Would you allow a duel for honor to be defiled in such a way? IS IT NOT A FINE DAY TO DIE, GAIUS?"

[Gaius Octavian Skipio]

IT came so sudden, the feeling that they where being watched and it was not pleasant. It was as if whom ever had watched them had some how found that they where wanting in some area... And the unseen presence was angry. He watched his his enemy flipped his sword and almost as suddenly the man stopped in his tracks. The mans eyes widened and Gaius couldn't help but glance in the same direction. Thats when he saw it... The knight in black armor... The Lord of War... The King of Warriors... Belial Archdemon... And Lord of the Undercroft.

"YOU CAME HERE FOR BATTLE, MORTAL? YOU SHALL GET THAT BATTLE, MORE THAN YOUR FILL. I SHALL ENJOY THIS." The voice of the being that was essentially his general boomed out over them. He tried to move, but he couldn't and he watched as his honorable duel was demolished with but a single swing of his rulers blade. It angered him, angered him to see what had been a contest of both will and skill shattered by this giant. He turned his heated red eyed stare on the knight, though he knew he wouldn't be noticed.

Cael lifted free of the debris, shaking him self, trembling in fear and bleeding. Yet he still had the courage to speak. It brought something of a smirk to his face. "What is your name, demon?! What name could fit a warrior of such might...? And you... Would you allow a duel for honor to be defiled in such a way? IS IT NOT A FINE DAY TO DIE, GAIUS?" Though with that smirk came a pang of anger, though he would not let that show... Yet. He locked eyes with the man and shook his head with what could be regret. "This is his land, his domain! He has the RIGHT to interrupt any fight he sees fit. You should run, just as you where powerless against me, i am nothing but a moth to this Warrior that stands before you... There is no point in fighting a battle you know you cant win!" He yelled the words across the arena, hoping beyond hope that the greatest demon in the Undercroft would not turn his sword on him. He knew he stood no chance as he currently was.

[Belial]

Falling back, the Archdemon materialized a throne to park his hindquarters upon a seat. A large thud was accompanied by such a vast landing in which the throne rattled, but levitated atop the two as he looked down upon them, metaphorically, AND physically. Resting his armored chin on his knuckles as he took notice of the two to be naught but irritating gnats before his presence. Perhaps he can squish them here and now for the offenses made in fighting on HIS FUCKING COLISEUM, or perhaps he can make this far more interesting than intended. Of course he opted for the latter, for there is no honor in squishing gnats as they were, and furthermore they did not exactly amuse them, weak as they were, unsanctioned their duel as it was. Whichever the case, he merely bade existence of two infinity sign rings (as in it looks like the infinity symbol) to form out of the air in front of him. Levitating atop the two 10 meters in the air, he merely pointed his finger first to the human, and then to the Roman, who looked vastly different to your average Legionnaire, those that made their time in the Great Undercroft as naught but guests to his arena.

He honestly was not amused by these two, AT ALL. Especially not the human... so weak. Had he done a strength to cleave a mountain, there would be no standing up or alike of that nature. Regardless, the rings levitated towards the two, forming a sharp point at the end as Belial watched. A high wall of steel formed around the arena, thickening and bulking as escape was but erased absolutely in that regard. 400 feet high up from the ground as everyone in this particular battle stood within the barricades. Having deemed it so to be, and so it has. Steel and all. The shield and sword he had levitated next to him, as he let go of such tools of destruction. They were but expendable in his hands, for it is he who forges the weapons and makes his skills matter more so than his bonds to his weapons to win the day.

"You desecrated my hallowed grounds where honorable bloodletting occurs on MY approval, where warriors duel for time immemorial for a prize I bestow at my own behest. I am not an unmerciful Lord, for I have deemed it so that you two SHALL return here in the correct time lest I consign your departures, PERMANENTLY." Belial thundered, still seated on his throne of unknown metal completely out of the periodic table, alike his armor, "There will be no cowardly retreat in my presence. To disobey me is to invite death, let that much be clear. Fear the name Belial." The two uncoiled and now straightened small straightened tubes filled with contained mercury would soon speed towards the chests of both warriors below Belial, onward to their hearts deigning to coil around a major blood vessel where life should be, although would be safe at his behest as oft the moment for he contained the metallic liquid inside. The mechanism of such rings would be filled with very toxic liquid metal contained within the hollow tubes, that Belial himself designed that any tampering would fracture such hollow infinity sign ring tubes, and that it will degrade in time and fracture naturally unless he removes them himself.

"ACCEPT MY GIFTS, AND RETURN HERE IN A MONTH'S TIME WHERE I SHALL HOLD A TOURNAMENT. If either of you SHOULD WIN, you shall keep your insignificant lives, and furthermore, a weapon of great power. Refuse my offer, and I shall squash you both where you stand. Make your choice." He tapped his other metallic fingers on his throne's arm rest, still looking down on them from his rested head, "NOW BEGONE THOSE THAT HAVE TAKEN THE SPITEFUL RINGS! IF YOU DO NOT RETURN IN THIRTY DAYS, DEATH SHALL CLAIM YOU NOT IN THE GLORY OF BATTLE, BUT FROM THE SHADOWS WHERE YOU COWARDS HIDE. YOUR LIFE IS MEASURED UPON THE TIME I MAKE MY TOURNAMENT, SEEK OUT THIS COLISEUM IN THAT TENURE, AND COME PREPARED, YOU MONGRELS."

Were they to accept the hollow tubes filled with toxic metal to coil around their hearts and lock there in place, he would in fact disintegrate the steel walls in place and allow the two warriors to leave. That is if they accept. He did not care if either choices were made, he wished to see to it that honorable duel happens in the coliseum where HE ALLOWED IT TO BE. It was their worst day, to pick a fight where he had not deemed it so in the arena of all places. Had it been outside, Belial would not have appeared as he had, in fact, would not have cared at all, for the spoils outside are rightly won in plunder and their boon to all warriors that be not within his sacred grounds.

[Cael Gladius]

Cael growled at the response from Gaius, but his attention was turned back to the bigger threat. He'd summoned a throne of some sort, and sat upon it now. The demon merely watched the two of them now, or, at least, that's what the samurai presumed. He was wrong.

Looking around as the walls of the coliseum grew taller, his heart dropped into his stomach. There was no escaping now, and the archdemon Belial had issued his challenge. One month of preparation, thirty days outside of this place was all he had if he accepted. Not just him, but Gaius as well, and it would be then their battle could be decided. The tubes of mercury whirred above them, as if waiting for them to make their decision.

"I accept your terms, fiend." And with that the deal was made. The tubing inched its way into Cael's chest, entwining itself around his heart. He was damned whether or not he returned, but he wouldn't allow himself to die the way of a coward. Cael would return, and, when he did, he would return with his heated passion for battle intact. He wouldn't be broken, and thirty days was more than enough time for him to train for such an encounter.

[Gaius Octavian Skipio]

A challenge was issued and the terms of it where in no way uncertain. He would fight in one months time or he would die where he stood. He looked up at the imposing figure who sat on a throne conjured from thin air and searched for his mind for some other option. But he didn't search very hard. After all he was a warrior of some skill, and should not be afraid to fight for honor and glory in a tournament of champions. Though, in the end it could mean his death and the end of his existence as a whole. But he lived for the fight and for the rush that fighting brought.

Gaius could only watch as the metal flew toward him with what amounted to a stoic expression on his otherwise blank face, his eyes tracking the path of the silvery substance as it grew closer and closer to his chest. He waited then for the pain that he knew was coming, but did not let it show as he felt the odd device clamp its self about his heart. It sent a shiver through the mans body, as he felt the thing that had invaded him settle into its final resting place.

"As you say... My lord." There was no bitterness in his voice as he spoke those few simple words, just resignation. After all a simple soldier could not fight against the cards fate had dealt him, he would have to play the hand regardless. Though he did have one regret... He had not been able to finish his duel with Cael, it seemed almost tragic. Though if he had his way, they would meet again so that their swords may cross each other once more.

[Belial]

With but a flick of his wrists, not that it was needed, it is nothing but a formality to Belial, the walls of metallic imprisonment was launched high up into the air and into a random part of the Great Undercroft. Wherever it may be, it perhaps would be a place of no consequences. The leash that imprisoned the two within the spans of the arena were suddenly free to leave, or more specifically, Belial was now done with hanging around and thus fulfilled with his function of guarding this sanctuary from unsanctioned battles unwarranted by his attention that he deemed thus naught for imposing the clash of arms, one against another. Whichever the case, the throne levitated around, and higher up till the arena structure was well underneath him as he didn't budge to look down at them.

"Your lives are now but bounty to win, forfeited to the fates, have at it in battle. Hard won plunders it shall be, in rightful demise and kill dealing onslaught shall it be done." He inclined his head ever so slightly to the demon, "Like a raging tempest without an end, TRAIN, cease not for even the smallest respite, for there is naught but the hardened and blood lust driven foes that seek to vanquish thee. I shall grant thee no quarters, for what awaits shall be a thrice generous boon unto ye. Now OUT OF MY ARENA! It shall do you two no good that I catch you here a second time, for only the first had my wrath been stilled for 'twas your ignorance that held it back."

And with that, Belial's throne flew away back to his bastion, his stronghold to be received in glad tidings, and perhaps smite another who dared think himself higher than the Archdemon, as to claim his throne.

Later elsewhere...

The demon known as Arkalegos worked tirelessly for centuries, robbed of his mortal life in a battle where a stray arrow had done him low, he worked without an end. He was a sorcerer, a warlock with great power and skills with arms alike. Concocting an evil array of tonics for him to drink, that he would stand a chance against Lucifer himself and in fact reign supreme in Hell! To finally break free of this imprisonment, and go back to the mortal realm that be Terra. He was close to the threshold of his GREATEST discovery yet where great and infinite power would be had, as the most imminent of concentrations were abundant towards that small task till...

SPLAT.

A great tonnage of steel crushed all that were underneath. From below life evaporated as the spell dispersed. What was a unique warlock with a knowledge only exclusive to himself lost to the annals of the ages, as he died. An explosion ensued from the very far horizon from where the arena were that a plume of mushroom clouds spiraled upwards. Belial's wall melted and further flew into the air for perhaps another hapless victim to be claimed...

[EXIT THREAD]

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