Maybe I'm a Lion

From Reydala

"Damn him."


Azazel stood in his own office, aboard the Avalon. The sleek pirate vessel that'd hounded him had caught up, and after a largely pointless exchange of volleys between the two ships, the Shagohod had finally gotten alongside his own Avalon. Watching the deck through the large window he'd had installed, he had the perfect vantage point as Dante's boarding parties began launching ropes at the Avalon's masts, howling as they swung over the water to engage the Haldians.


The dark samurai grinned. "Well then, I'll just have to kill his men, too." Grabbing the long katana resting in a corner, he spared a look at the women tied up in a chair. "I'll be back for you."


The elf woman in question glared hatred at Azazel, as he departed the cabin.


Dante, meanwhile, was all ready on the Avalon's deck. His own swords reflected the sun's quickly dying light, and at a distance it seemed as though he were wielding twin columns of fire to strike down anyone unfortunate enough to be in his way.


"Having fun, Scullion Boy?"


The Jovenite's head whipped around at Azazel's voice. The older man was currently standing only a short distance away, his black clothing liberally drenched with blood. He smiled maliciously as he almost negligently impaled another of Dante's crew on his katana. Dante responded with a string of expletives.


Azazel shook his head. "Temper, temper. And after I went to all the trouble of getting you something, too." His sword arced over his head, and the certainly-dead pirate flew off the blade, knocking into three more combatants. "Come."


Dante closed the distance between the two, screaming. His blades were a whirlwind about his body as he mindlessly struck at the Haldian. Azazel, on the other hand, dodged and blocked each stroke, before using his free hand to grasp Dante's throat. Lifting him in the air, his face wore a look of disappointment. "And you killed my comrades? Pathetic."


The great sword arced again, and a sheet of blood splattered the deck. Dante howled as Azazel dropped him to his knees, clutching his face where his eye once was. "Wait here, Boy. I have one last chore to attend to. Then I'll be taking your ship, and killing the rest of your men." The samurai turned his back on the Jovenite, and idly rubbed the blood off his Haldian symbol as he re-entered his cabin.


Enna was still there, glaring. Azazel smiled at her as he crossed to where she sat, his sword at his side. "And I was planning such fun for us. Pity." His arm snaked out, and the elven woman was impaled on the katana. Her screams were muffled as her blood soaked through her garments, running rivulets down Azazel's blade.


Azazel smiled wider as he memorized every perfect detail of the sight. It was also, predictably, his own downfall.


Quite out of his mind, Dante launched himself at the Haldian's back. Having abandoned his weapons, he used his bare hands to strike Azazel's head against the wooden floor, buffeting his kidneys, and used his knees and elbows to strike anywhere on the other man's body. Overwhelmed by the berserk Jovenite's assault, Azazel futilly tried to fight back, before finally blacking out.


Dante continued striking the unconcious man, before standing, wrenching Azazel's own sword out of the body of his beloved, and sinking the heavy blade into the Haldian's chest, the metal driving down deep into the floor. Exhausted, Dante then sank to his knees, before crawling to Enna's corpse.


There, he wept.

Personal tools