Xion swayed into the open of izimets field. He was singing a song off-key, the lyrics twisted and meaningless, but he sung it to a happy tune. His mind was wondering, as it often had, and his sword was clenched in his hand, guiding his footfalls as he carelessly sway his head and look into the stars. The field was damp due to the rain earlier on in the day, and the sun had not come to warm and dry this place. Seemingly, the sun did little more than provide light on the broken battlefield.

"A ten-pence or two, for a night with you!
A drop of sick poison, to liven your stew!
Me and you, the living and dead,
Me and you, to share my bed!

You'll only last 'til the smell gets caught,
Or the frail skin off your bone rots!
But surely, that will take a few nights,
And until then!
Poisen in your stew and a few nights in my den!"

He squeeled in a high-pitched manner at delight to his song. He had been working on it for a while, and he was sure it would be a great song. His sword laughed deeply, like a father laughing at his son's jokes, before humming it itself. Xion was content, at least until he smelled an elf.

Gregory! His sword warned.

Gregory had been resting for most of the day. He felt the presence of good in this field, along with evil. But it had been the first time in a while that the presense of good had begun to comfort him as a mother singing a lullabye. He had spent the night, feasting on what foraged berries and small animals he could kill, and he was content with staying yet another night by the fire, examining old scriptures that he had discovered and translating them. His eyes glowed with prupose in the light of the fire, and he was enjoying that he was alone and without evil trying to slay him.

he had been writing in his journal when he was interupted by foul singing. He was writing in code that none but himself surely knew. The code was complex, but not as complex as he could do now. He started this journal with this level of coding, though, and to change it while in the same journal would only confuse him. The voice that sung the song sounded tired and very, very off-key, and the words were quite odd indeed. It was a twisted song, one that nobody surely sang with a clean or sober mind, but this voice seemed to revel in the putrid lyrics. His squeeling laugh shattered the quiet of the night, and a dull silence quickly took it's place.

Gregory watched as the man stopped and turned his head in Gregory's direction. The man burned of evil on the outside and inside, and he could see a lust to kill in it's eyes. it slowly raised the handle of it's sword, swiping it's thumb across the blade only to cut it and taste the blood. This was a tactic of some demonic beings. Many demon beings are fueled by the sight, smell or tatse of blood. He had seen this method used before, and it had a tendancy to make the being dangerous. What stood before him was a crazed man with a very nice sword and a physique as though he was unfed. Gregory knew from his feet and grip on the sword that this man meant business.

"Hell sends yet another demon for me to kill. You are beginning to become a niusance."

Xion tittered at the elf's crude misjudging of his skills. Hell, if blue was such a good color, why was blood red? He grinned at his own thought, which buffed his confidence in the fight. He had seen many die by his hand, and this elf would be just the same. Do not underestimate the elf, child. His calmly whispered into his ear, For he bears his spear with the skill to use it effectively, you must get in very close if you are to win, which you surely are not. Xion sighed at the sword's own words. He hated it when the sword told him how he would fair in a fight, and no matter how many times it was proven right, he refused to believe it.

"Hell has no bearing on what I doooo," his voice lulled and taunted, his dry craccked lips bleeding with the wide smile that cracked his face, "When i am done with you youre parents will have to carry you away in four seperate tree-trunks. Ahaha!" he laughed mockingly at the elf, slowly arching his spear to stand between him and the elf, the tip pointing just below the elf's feet. Forced Dance. Very good choice, child. His swords cooed and he blushed. His sword was complimenting his sword stances, and he was exstatic.

Gregory's eyes squinted nearly shut as he took in the man's first words. Obviously this man was maddened. Gregory had come to learn that the crazy ones were dangerous, because with a crazy person you could not tell if he was smart and crazy, strong and crazy, or just plain unpredictable and crazy. He hoped for strong and crazy, the easiest to overcome with magic in a fight. He studied the man assume an attack stance, wielding his masterwork longsword with the ease of an experienced warrior.

"The parents that aren't dead would give me a much more extravagent funeral then wood-elf standards," He rearranged his feet, Jabbing the butt-end of his spear into the ground and allowing the end to point upward as if to be used as a pike, "For it is your funeral that will take place withing the bough of a tree. If you're lucky enough, someone may be able to see your corpse and remember it before it rots to nothingness." He stretched out his obsidian hand, flexing it as his warm holy aura quickly flared into a blazing fire of glory. he smiled withing the fire and tamed it enough for his enemy to see him through it.

"For you fight an angel." His wings whipped open in a flurry of wind and light.

Xion's eyes rolled in happiness. The good that this being emitted fed the sword. Pleased, the sword relayed it's happiness to Xion, and it was almost too much to bear. He dropped his sword in the dirt and began bouncing up and down, clapping. His eyes rolled in exctasy and drool rolling from his lips down his chin. Tears formed at his eyes before he finally stopped his bouncing and realized that he had let his sword down. Allowing himself to relax, he casually lifted the large weapon in his had and drew his hand down the flat of it.

"Yes, angel. You will do quite nicely," He smiled and his once-childish aura vanished in an instant, and he became a cold, calculating killer. A frown formed on his lips as he worked out a plan, "For although you are an angel, I myself am a demon..." He smiled mockingly and began to walk towards the angel, his sword poised in his hand and ready to strike. The sword would be pleased with him, and although it did not talk to him now, he knew in his heart it would be.

Gregory grimaced as the man bounced about, clapping and drooling all over himself like some mind-sick child. This was abnormally crazy, and he sighed as the man quickly shifted to reverence over his sword. His loving eyes shifted from the sword in his hands to Gregory, and quickly the eys that were once abnormally insane were devoured with intelligence. This was not good. He was hoping that he would not end up with an intelligent insane, and he shuttered as he look upon one. This man had not appeared dangerous, and gregory had put his guard down. Were the man to take advantage he would have been suprised in short order.

Judging his enemy's actions, he shifted stances so his spear was above him and he crouched low to the ground. This went from ma simple show of magic to an intense staredown. As the crazed man proceeded forwards at a slow walk, gregory shifted gradually forward as well. He study every flicker of the man's intelligent eyes, he watched the weins in the mans head pulse with black blood, and the muscles in the man's eyelids quiver. Slowly the two proceeded towards one another. Gregory had brought down his holy aura, focussing it within himself to be used to flow with his magic and be visible. It was always assumed magic that could be seen was stronger than normal, and he loved to feed this myth.

Focussing his magic to his chest, he allowed tendrils of it to wrap about him, forming a solid armor. He then directed the magic to his hand, allowing it to fan out into a shield with a large cross on it. All of this took place while he slowly slid, one foot at a time, towards his enemy. His eyes were cold as diamonds, before a golden helmet shadowed them into the darkness aswell.

Xion swallowed his pride as the angelic elf began to shuffle forward. He slowed his pace, in order to make time for him to strategize. His opponents was as smart as him, if not smarter, and he was unsure of how powerful the elf was. His question of the elf's power vanished as he watched the elf use his magic. There was an amount of control there that displayed an impressive skill with the arta, and he knew he was outmatched in magic, but he always had his sword. His swordsmanship was excellent and he knew it. He noted the elf's use of the spear and came to one conclusion.

In melee combat, He would come out the victor over the angel, but this was the real world, and he knew the angel would use magic and whatever else it had at it's disposal against him. Focussing his own black magic, he forced it to his left hand, which he removed from his sword`s hilt, and he converted the magic to a whip of fire. He didn`t have much, but it would do. Studying the elf, he made the first move. What was a walk quicly changed to a spin, and his fiery whip came around at his enemy, the flames crackling in the wind of his attack.

Gregory watched as the demonic man formed a firey whip from his hand. For some reason he had not expected the madman to use magic, but he supposed dark magic could be controlled even by those who could not control their own minds. He watched in satisfaction as the man gave his plot away with the raising of an eyebrow and a glance at Gregory`s side. As the whip of fire lashed around to his side, Gregory was ready. He placed his shield between the attack and himself, blocking the shot easily.

Moments after parrying the simple attack, Gregory leapt forward, his spear guiding him and his wings pushing him at his enemy. The blade of the spear was aimed for the heart of the demon, and he was fairly certain that such a simple attack would not land, but it may open up opportunities for him.

Xion had not expected the angel to be fast, and he was quick to realize that it was not as fast as himself, but more observant. His eyes always managed to give him away to the observant, and this had caused him much grief in past fights. As his whip lashed back, he witnessed the angel push off with it`s wings at an lunge for him, it`s spear leading the charge, and he smiled. Dodging was an easy matter for the beastially quick Xion, and he laughed as he watched the spear go over where his heart would have been.

He bent double to the floor, and as the spear seemingly moved in slow motion over his head, he reached out ond grabbed it. Twisting with all his might, he arched the spear into the ground with high-hopes of sending the angel over him. From there he would strike with his quick reflexes, and hopefully catch the angel in a corner. He never thought that a cornered angel would be a bad thing.

Gregory had been caught off-guard by the demon-man`s limberness. He expected the man to just move to a side, and he was floundered when he was the man bend double. He looked on in horror as he went right over top of the man, and he swore for not using his bless weapon spell when the man grabbed onto his spear. His next thoughts were confusion as the man twisted oddly beneath him and he was thrown down without a weapon. Reacting in panic, he summoned the best spell he could think of at the moment.

"Dispell!" he shouted as his eyes opened and his hands extended. A fiery whip was nearly slapping him in the face before it vanished with a pop. Thank god he had learned to cast during combat, otherwise he may very well have lost a good chunk of his face. He hoped that his enemy was confused for a moment at least, and he fought to catch his breath. It took him a moment, but his windedness soon left him and he took a full breath of fresh air. Looking up at his opponent, he wiped his blood-flecked lips and stood, removing his shirt gingerly, he flexed his sculptured frame. He was not muscular, but he was sculptured.

"I will underestimate you no more." He breathed.

Xion had no time for respectful nods or thanks. He was far too busy with his pretty fireballs. His right hand fell to his side so he could relax it. Gritting his teeth to focus, he channeled his dark energy to his fingertips, and almost immediately they began to glow red. "FireBall!" He shouted, and his fingertips lit up in flame. Closing his fist, he twisted his whole body to throw the ball of fire as hard as he could. His closed fist opened as he swung his arm foreward, and a large red ball of fire was flung forward to Gregory.

He had little time to do much after, other than of course, his usuall tactic. He gripped the hilt of his sword and lunged at the elf, his feet kicking forcefully at the ground in an attempt to keep up with the fireball. He wouldn't be able to keep up with it, but he wouldn't be too far behind. His normally grey eyes grew red as the heat of the battle took him. His sword shone green and screamed red. Blood was red. Blue is over-rated.

Gregory did not have as much time as he had hoped to recover. The man he found himself combatting was somewhat smart and he thought fast, but Gregory clearly saw flaws in his thoughts. Gritting his teeth he dove towards the attack. His spear held back in his flesh hand, he swatted the magical fireball with his obsidian and was quick to react with his spear. He swivelled his body at the hip and rotated forcefully, his spear a white blur as he swung it towards the charging demon-man.

Being the sort of individual that he was, Gregory was, of course, prepared for his next move. He was not the type to fly into combat with his fists at the ready, but such proximity left him little choice. After his spear moved in it’s sideways swipe, he brought his obsidian hand back to the forefront, aiming it for the demon’s jaw and hoping like hell it connected.

Xion was suprisingly stunned as the angel charged him and smacked his fireball out of the way. He had never asumed that it would be such an easy thing to do, and he had never really witnessed anyone else do it, but it was of no concern. He quickly threw his sword to his side to deflect the spear and breathed a quick sigh of relief as he felt the vibrations of the weapon connect. But rather than fly back or simply scrape by, Xion noted that he was thrown foreward.

As he look down, he saw the he was indeed airborn when he had taken the hit, and just as he looked up, as if in slow motion, he watched a black-rock hand rocket towards him. He may have been able to dodge if he had seen it coming, but he was careless. The fist connected and an explosion of pain rocked his brain in his skull. Blackness and red dots filled his vision, and he was vaguely aware of his body hitting the ground hard and the wind leaving his body. He fought to stand before his vision returned, and he succeeded. But blind and dizzy, he couldn't stand for long. He fell on one knee and dry-heaved.

Gregory slid forward, stopping only when he lodged his spear into the ground and clung to it. Dead grass drifted from the sky as he stopped and looked up at his enemy. He had watched his fist connect on the suprised man's face, and he saw the man drop straight back, falling hard. The demon-man had not even slid, just landed with a sickening thud. He heard the dark-man groan, and he smiled confidently as the man tried to stand, succeeding for moments only to fall back on his knees.

Laughing self-assuredly, Gregory wiped the obsidian knuckles of his hand and slowly began to approach the demon. "It would appear that my hand was enough to do you in, demon." He had not brought his weapon to this confrontation, as he assumed he would not need it. Coming close to the demon he clasped it's hair in his hands and lifted it to it's feet. The demon flashed open a single red eye, and the angel nodded his head. The eye was unseeing, temporarily, at least. He never imagined he could hit so hard, but then he supposed he was moving forward with enough speed to double his punching strength ten-fold.

"What have you to say now, Demon?"

"What have I to say?" His voice raised in pitch and lowered in volume as he tried to regain his vision and lose his dizziness. His sword had been knocked from his hands with the power of the punch, and it lay a far distance behind him. He knew his sword would be angry when it got back, and it would demand a blood payment. A payment that Xion himself was to exhausted to hunt out. he would have to pay with his own blood, but that was a matter for later. "What have I to say?" He repeated himself, his other sightless eye opening dangerously.

"To hell with you!" He shouted, raking his clawed hand on the angel's face. He witnessed in glee as the blue skin tore to reveal red blood. His joy was short lived. All went black for a moment before he returned to his concious to find himself running almost on all fours, his sword clutched under his arm. Not taking the time to look back, he deftly sheathed the weapon ond continued to run. His sword was suprisingly neutral to the situation. It had predicted this loss, but would except the blood-payment.

Gregory frowned as the demon repeated his question and paused for a moment before repeating it again, only higher pitched on the second repetition. He did not expect the next move. He grit his teeth as the clawed hand of the demon suddenly came up and he heard it's words of defiance. He swung his obsidian hand out in a closed fist as the demon's hand clawed his face, ands moments after it connected again. He shut his eyes to the world as he felt the demon leave his hand and he covered his own face. Brining his hand to sight he saw the blood and grimaced. Minor scratches.

He looked back up to see the demon running, and spread his wings. With a few quick steps he took flight and roared after the demon, hoping to catch it before it hit the forest surrounding the clearing. Closer and closer he got, and just as he was close enough to almost grab it the treeline came up, and he was forced to arc upwards over the trees. He cursed his bad decisions and quickly scanned the forest. It was thick, and the demon was quicker on foot than he, and one his size could not go about flying through the forest.

He turned on a draft of wind and returned to his spear. Landing softly, he longingly gazed back at where the demon had escaped. He didn't bother pulling his spear from the ground, and he infact fell to his bottom and leaned against it. He knew the demon wouldn't return for him any time soon, and he needed rest. Fingering at the odd runes on his obsidian hand, he drifted into a fitfull sleep. Dreams of demons invaded his mind.

Xion looked back moments before he entered the forest, and he almost wished he hadn't. The enraged demon with the clawed face was in close pursuit, but with another leap forward he entered the forest line and watched the angel whip upwards. His sword assured him that he would be safe now that he had escaped into the woods, but wanting to make sure, he decided to run for a bit longer. He was somewhat tired from fighting, but capable of running a full two miles in his fear. When he stopped, he collapsed under a large oak tree and breathed a sigh of relief.

His sword, however tensed up. W...Wait... Where... Where are your spells? His sword asked, it's deep voice stuttering as a frightened child. Xion cocked an eyebrow at such a question, and felt around his mind for them, but to his horror, he found only blackness. His panic made him feel along his face. He felt the swollen lump of the punch he had taken in their collision, and a new one of his temple just above the second. The predicament he was in dawned on him.

The angel... He punched the memory of your magic right through your skull... The sword sounded almost fascinated, but Xion was frozen in horror. "Damn you! Damn you you infernal angel!" He stood and yelled at the empty woods, and nothing responed. He clenched the sides of his head and yelled, searching for his spells in a panicked haste. Nothing came of his search.