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NayvsMagusFerox
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The sun beats heavily upon you as you enter the sand-covered ampitheater. The scene wavers a little in front of your eyes as vapors from the scalding ground make their way to the heavens. Upon taking in your surroundings more, you notice several thin wooden barriers placed around the arena, the boards that they are made of cracked and dry. From the stone seats above you, The spectators_guild yells upon you, cheering you on. Finally, at the other end of the arena, there is a huge gate, similar to the one that you just came through. This must be your opponent's entrance.

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Member Name: Lemuel Ucion
Age: Quite Unknown
Race: [Vampir]
Height : 5'8"
Weight: 78
Class: Parasite, Senatorial Guard
Equipment: Hawkshead hilted saber, enchanted panpipes.
Skills: Quite fangless, the glands that produce his vampiric saliva (quite capable of corroding flesh in large doses) are exposed, allowing his to draw it forth and spit it apon his opponents. Extrodinary healing ablilities, and advanced agility allow his to take alomost any hit. Is largely unaffected by sylvan magic, which often refuses to work around him. Weakness is, contary to most of his kind, dark magics. Perhaps his past as a cleric, and his affinity for holy curses, have something to do with it...

Member Name: Altus [Roccoriel]
Age: Unknown
Race: Lion
Height : 5'3" at the shoulder
Weight: 550 ish
Class: Bard
In this case brief desc will siffice for equipment: MAssive lion, white in color with with a full mane (works to some extent like armor). His claws are about 4" long when unsheathed. His teeth are razor sharp and like the prehistoric sabre-tooth cats his caninies are nearly 8" long.

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Like the great scenes of the gladiatoral matches during the glory of ancient Rome, the wrought iron gate releases a massive lion. This however is no lion like ever saw the great coliseum. Sinewy muscle ripples beneath a coat that gleams white in the bright sun and a magnificent mane pure as the driven snow covers his neck and throat thickly. Eyes blue as the sky above fix on his opponent. He pads quietly, unconcernedly, forth on paws the size of dinner plates, his head lowered as he watches his prey.


Absently whistling, the lion's scheduled opponesnt walks through the large iron gate, jumping a little as it smashes closed behind him. He glances vaguely toward the prowling cat as it stalks back and forth, squinting through the harsh sunlight with dark green eyes. He shuffles forward a few steps, slowly sluffing his large blue overcoat, "Eh... you're goin' to have t' forg've me, pet... but 're you a bloomin' Lion?" He slides a little closer, holding a deathly pale hand above his eyes to shield the sun a little...

Pauses in his pacing regarding his opponent cooly whith those icy blue eyes. He settles then upon his haunches, those long sabre like front teeth catching the light and shakes his full mane almost boredly. He sighs exhasperatedly and then in a deep growling, melodic voice replies, "You are quite observant are you not? I suppose you may be forgiven this time and...please note I am note just a 'bloom'n lion'." He raises a hackle in a odd sort of feline smirk then and in doing so reveals more of his sharp white fangs.

The figure stops, and squints deeply. "Eh... well... we'd better get start'd then. I've a prize 't win." He smiles slightly, and finishes sluffing his coat. He hangs it loosely in the crook of his right arm, and slowly rolls up the sleeves of his white blouse 'till they cinch just above his elbow. He holds up the coat for a moment, and rifles through some of the pockets, digging out various bits of paraphinalia and stuffing them in his borad belt. Finally, he opens it wide, and unstraps a long saber and hilt from the lining. He chucks the coat into a far corner, and examines the sword for a few moments before hooking it to his belt with a few leather straps and toggles.
He stands for a moment, shading the sun from his eyes with a protective arm, then looks at the lion that prowls a few paces off. "Lets hav't, then... start, or whatnot."

Altus resumes his pacing, circling his opponent at a safe distance and those keen eyes fixed upon his prey. His mouth is slightly open in an anticapatory manner so that those lethal teeth still show. As the great cat moves his muscles flex smoothly beneath his gleaming silver coat leaving no doubt of the strength this creature possesses. He then replies coaxingly, "I do insist the prey go first...It's only fair to give yoy a sporting chance..." He again offers a sly feline smirk, more unsettling than anything as he continues to move almost lazily in gait around his quarry.

The vampire nods slightly, and slides the saber from it's scabbard with a solid "SHNINK". His eyes narrow a little, and he shuffles forward a few steps, then breaks into a slow trot. As he nears the lion, he begins to veer off to the right, increacing his pace with every step. He circles around, then suddenly shifts his weight to his left foot, bringing his body around to face the lion with frighenting speed. Then, with a fluid motion, he launches himself into the air, swinging downward with the hawkshead saber...

Raises his hackles and snarls as he steps easily from the cumbersome steps of the two-legged fighter. Continuing in his circular pacing he keeps those his icy gaze upojn his target, biding his time. He then sets back onto his hindquarters without warning and leaps, his hind claws tearing into the soft arena footing. His forepaws aimed for Vampir's chest, the talon-like black claws extended and his teeth bared. His sabre like canines more than capable of ripping out the throat of any unfortunate victim.

Vampir screams in undead pain as one of the claws rips through his flesh, snapping ribs and severing vital organs as the entire paw enters his body. Bringing up his saber, he manages to hold the gnashing teeth away from his neck and throat... but the damage has been done.
Altus' entire paw and foreleg has been shoved through Vampir's chest, caught in the jagged remanants of ribs and vital organs that leak down the now matter fur and slick fabric. For a moment or two, Vampir stares in horror at the bloody mess, then slowly lets a smile cross his face. As the other paw scrabbles wildly to dig into his flesh, the vampire closes his eyes, and lets out a deep hum from inside his ruined chest. As the hum intesnifies, a faint blue glow begins to emenate from around his head, slowly spreading elsewhere on his body as the pitch hightens and the volume steadily increaces.
Finally, the glow encompases his body... and he starts to heal. Ribs straighten, and organs shift... torn flesh reconnects, and blood flows upward from the dusty arena floor. Opening his eyes, Vampir smiles slightly, and draws a dagger from deep inside his coat with his free hand. Slashing downward, he cuts the lion lightly across the taut muscle of it's paw. A tendril of flesh from the vampire's body jets outward, connecting him to the Lion...
Vampir is totaly healed, with the flesh of Altus' left foreleg still embedded in him. They have been connected... they share the same blood, now, the same flesh, the same life. The vampire smiles slightly at his new partner, and mumbles, "Wha' would y' 'ave m' do now, mate?"

Backs off now, avoiding favoring the stinging wound on his front paw where his white hair is now stained by seeping crimson. The massive lion's pale eyes flicker as he surveys his quarry with renewed intrigue. He resumes his pacing, keeping a safe distance between himself and the other while he thinks on this new development. It couldn't be, could it? He had a theory now on this and resolved himself to test it. Snarling and suddenly leaping forward he then halts abruptly while the momentum carries a massive paw forward to rake the lethal claws across his oppenents thigh. Enough to cause damage to his foe but not so much it would cause problems if his theory were realized.

Vampir laughs through the sudden pain, "Yah m'stake, m'lad. We're now c'nnected bt th' blood..." He grins vilely, and slowly bends down. His lips move slowly, his eyes kept locked on the pacing lion afore him. After a moment, he puckers his lips, and spits quickly into the open slashes across his leg. The pale, translucent green liquid pools on the wound for a moment, then slowly comingles with the blood. "I... 'm 'mmune. You, m'friend, 're not. 'd like to see 'ow it affec's some'ne yah size."

So it had been as he had thought...though the venom was an unexpected hindrance. The lion's mind worked furiously on this paradoxal endeavor he was now faced with. Furthermore, he needed time, and as Vampir's toxin began to run through his veins he was well aware that time was something he may not have...He began to pace again, not out of wisdom, or need but out of predatorial habit.
Perhaps it was out of desperation, a play for time to think, or perhaps there was more to the words he then spoke. A bard in nature the great cat's rumbling voice issued forth:
In days of old were legends made,
To remember honor, valor, nobilty...and how they conquer evil.
In hope told, by children played,
These epic tales of long ago...and their ends for good or ill.
And should we not learn from this?
To still hold dear what we sorely miss?
For me a single lesson comes to mind,
One which here, today, we may find.
Perhaps my words fall upon a deaf ear,
But are not courage and cowardice kin?
To act bravely out of need and fear?
Or resign to retreat and live to fight again?
Here however he trailed off, the song unfinished...the signs of the hemotoxin begining to work. It began in his hind leg, where he had struck Vampir...a gradually increasing limp, his footsteps losing their feline precision and becoming more erratic. He halted then, turning his icy blue eyes to meet his foe's. The poison was spreading he knew, and the pain was becoming less bearable. A decision now had to be made. To use something he had avoided for many long years as an inexplicable resent for it festered in his heart...
A slight shift of sinewy muscle benath the gleaming hide, the most miniscule raise of a hackle from gleaming fangs and twitch of elegant whiskers were the subtle clues of what was to come. He roared. It was a sound like that of his common kin but not so in that it had a chilling effect on the blood. As though the sound itself were an arctic wind biting through exposed flesh. Cold it was and yet in it there was life. The stirring of spring somehow traveled on Altus's voice...

Vampir listens intently, narrowing his eyes slightly at the sounding of the Lion's roar. He feels something radiate within him for a second. A dark look passes across his face, and he steps forward slightly, waving his saber with a cursory gesture, "'f yer try'n t' do a kill'n thru healin' 're summat, 'ts na' gunna' w'rk..." His voice trails off for a moment or two, his last syllible hanging on his tongue as his eyes slowly widen, then a smile crosses his face, "y' ruddin' bastah'd... Gods. A smaht one y' 're, 'll give y' that. Heh. Heh..." He backs off a pace, then brings his hand to bear, waving it quickly before him in a precice pattern. After a moment or two, he throws his head back, and screams deeply and hollowly. And... even as a black vapour exudes itself from Vampir's body, the scream continues, floating upward with it's spectral cloud to hover above the arena.
And it is quite clear that something has changed in Vampir... his skin shines a little more with an inner radiance, and his wounded leg begins to bleed freely. The pain is more deep, it seems, and he is a tad bit slower.
Nevertheless, he still brings his hands up, and casts a quick holy spell ward, sending a faint white aura to surround his body.

Altus staggered back a few steps, still painfully aware of his foe's venom that still coursed in his veins. Watching with those intensely blue feline eyes of his he saw the dark cloud rise. The eyes of a hunter, he knew now he had managed to at last wound his prey but by how much he knew not. For this he would wait, he could be patient, for a short while at least. Now having found a weakness he had little desire to rush forth and risk losing the precious ground he had now gained. His own wounds continued to seep crimson upon his white coat and he blinked back the fog that was creeping into the corners of his sight. He assumed a gaurded stance. Every slight motion of Vampir he watched. Every glint of the eye every twitch of the finger. His prey had been cornered he knew and also he knew this was when the prey, whether deer or mouse would strike their harshest blows. He would wait...