( OOC: Second longest post at 1.6k words. =P Hope it's not too boring and descriptiony. Regardless, I hope you guys have fun. )

Dark clouds rumbled overhead, sending flickers of lightning across the dark night skies, illuminating it for a brief instance before they would grow black again. It was a frightful night, the air was ice cold and the rains seemed even colder, especially considering the faint drifts of steam that lifted forth from the earthen ground. The whole ordeal seemed to send the city into a faintly lined fog that lingered just a couple feet above the ground, but whether it would play a factor in what would ensue during the course of the night would remain to be seen. The town itself was silent, not a single soul seemed to linger in the streets, but instead lurked within the dark binds of the alleyways, intent upon watching what events would unfold themselves and when they would.

However, that was merely on the outskirts of the town, once the center came within view a lone figure would rest upon knees hunched over in fashion. Steam escaped through the slit of a mouth on the mask of the figure during each exhaled breath, leaving all attention to fall upon the mask itself. It’s appearance, a pale white in shade with no other defining hues upon it, the only thing that struck itself out of the ordinary were the piercing red eyes that glared through the slit like holes of the mask itself. Strands of emaciated raven black hair ran in curving clusters across the surface of the mask, while others simply draped themselves down around it since his head had been tilted slightly forward as if to be looking at the ground. When looked at close enough, there were a couple of small black gems that resided within the binds of his hair, tied to separate strands in order to hold their placement only to clink and clank against each other with each movement of his head. A thick black cloak hugged the slender frame of the man, leaving those that looked upon him desiring more so they could gather some sort of information as to what he truly looked like. It had been the whole and entire reason the man picked the attire to begin with. Curiousness was a weapon all in its own; a weapon that he brandished well along with the weapons called: antagonism, hate, and lastly fear.

Countless thoughts jumbled through the caverns of his mind, each sadistic and twisted in their nature, which only seemed to bring a curl to the corner of his lips. Oh the trouble this man was in…The sheer thought of it made him ecstatic, so badly did he yearn for this day, to see the viciousness of this woman when all the tools and methods were placed in her hands. She had the heart, the question was did she have the spirit or the skill…If so, then she would be a useful accessory to keep at his side. From the sound of it and looking back upon their previous conversations the woman seemed to want nothing more than to make this man squirm and squirm he would if Manic held any play in this and by damned if he wouldn’t. The true question that probed his mind though, resided in how anxious was she getting waiting as he had commanded her to do. Completely out of sight she would need to remain for the time being until all focus of this man was directed at him, in which she would commence her fight against him. It was a perfect plan, one that would gain her the upper hand if played out correctly. He cared very little if it was her style or not, since there was no fair and unfair in what could be deemed as war.

Atop of the starting strategy of the fight, he gave her five possibilities that the man would attempt to do and told her to watch for any of them for the sign in which she would begin. There was no doubt in his mind that the man they were facing would be as predictable as that. And if there was the slim chance he wasn’t…Then that made things all the more interesting and would more the less throw a wrench into everything that they planned. It was fine with him though, it would just mean that they would need a little more precaution when handling this man. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know his name…Did he even care…? It was just another soon to be dead man walking the thin line above the pits of hell, only to have it cut when he would reach its mid-point. Of course it was a little premature to be declaring victory, but confidence was something that was needed when facing off with a near equal. Without confidence, there was no point in even trying to fight someone like that. Besides when the victory fell within his favor, it would just be another notch in his belt to show everyone that he was not someone to take lightly. And perhaps, just perhaps it would get the attention of this self proclaimed “keeper of light…”

Issuing an inward shrug at the thought, he realized how little it actually cared to him though. If that said man came looking for him, it would only end in disappointment for him that much could be assured. In fact, he hoped the man would…It would show the God of Light where he stood with him and all of his lackeys. Granted he didn’t know the God of Light or this man, but he hated the both of them nonetheless…The simple fact that they followed the light made him gag inwardly, but they were not his prime focus at the current point in time, instead it was on the man Fehade. That was when the man would appear within his view, enticing his interests to a new height. A demon! Finally a person who didn’t litter the air with the stagnant stench of rotten blood like the woman Cordelia did. Sadly that was the only positive outlook Manic could find in the demon other than the burning desire to come out of this altercation victorious. It would be a fight…Simply enough said, the sheer thought of how it would go would only cease to bring a wide spanning grin to his lips, which would remain hidden beneath the porcelain mask.

In a slow methodical manner, Manic would proceed to push himself up to an erect position, where he stood at his less than dominating height of 5’ 11”. Re-righting the positioning of his head, the red glowing hue of his eyes would pierce through the holes and upon the man to watch his every move, his every action. Once the man came within distance to hear him, his voice would pick up in a dark and jeering tone, “Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in, or coughed up if you will. Honestly, I prefer coughed up, because with that ridiculous haircut of yours, you do kind of resemble that of a hair ball. Albeit I do feel sympathetic for the cat, seeing as it had to cough up something as hideous as you; must have scared the poor thing clean out of its wits, after all.” A wry grin grew prominently upon the soft features of his countenance at the thought of how upset the man must be at him currently. Especially after the letter that summoned him here, it was almost a certain thing that this was the last thing he had wanted to listen to.

Mentally and physically his body prepared itself for anything the man may try and do, eyes concentrating on each movement of Fehade’s body for any indication of hostile actions. Deciding to continue with his jeers, his voice would once again sound, “Seems you decided to show up, I’m surprised you didn’t run away like a scared little girl or wet yourself the moment you knew I was looking for it. It’s not like you can be that strong, I mean come on, look at you.” To emphasize his words, a hand would gesture towards the man’s body, “You’re nothing but skin and bones and atop of that, you don’t seem very sure of yourself, trust me I know. Inside you’re wondering if you can really beat me, if this was a wise option, and if you’ll walk away from this in one piece.” Raising both of his hands palm up, he would bring them up until each of his forearms brought themselves parallel to the ground bellow, before issuing a shrug and dropping them back to his sides, “So come child…Show me what kind of beast you are, show me your will to live and your will to survive. You hold back and I guarantee you will die…” With that said, a single digit would raise itself just off to the side of his head, pointing it randomly up into the air, “Just so you know…” From there, both of his arms would cross themselves over his chest in a mocking manner, as if showing he really didn’t care for the man in front of him and was going to grant him the first chance at him. Whether the man would act; however, would remain to be seen…It was quite possible he was smarter than to let anger grab hold of him, which meant he would more the less allow Manic to make the first move. That of course would provide a serious problem for their plans…Especially having them set up the way he did…

Fehade was on a roof not too far away. He was crouched down, and balanced well. His red eyes gleamed out looking over rooftops to both sides, then looked forward. He had used the ebony eyes spell so he could see better in the dark, since he was never good at seeing in the dark. But with the spell, he saw much better, and saw the man out in the city square. A small, cruel like smirk fall over the tieflings face, and he then stood and walked atop the roof, balancing himself so he didn't lose his footing. When at the far end away from the square, he turned and ran down the sloping roof, and when at the edge, jumped out into the air. His draconic like wings, spread out, and caught him in the air, and he glided down into the cobblestone street. He landed quickly, barely making a noise.

He mumbled another spell, and made a quick gesture with his left hand, and then, also silently, his large wings grew smaller, then soon gone, because he had used his alter self spell. It was never fun to wander around with large wings, they stuck out to much and got in the way of his fighting.

His hair was in its normal spiky way, with the studs of horns nearly invisible. His eyes were the color of blood red tonight, gleaming, eager to see bloodshed. His skin was the red tinted color, and leathery looking and feel. He wore his normal black clothes, but underneath his black tunic, he wore dark chain mail. He had black knee high boots on, over his pants. He had a belt on, a thin black one, and he had two katanas in hard scabbards on either side. The left one was Ismon, and the other was Aparul.

He had left his nightmare horse, Evier, tied in a alley nearby, so, if Fehade needed the horse, he would have to go far. As he passed the alley that Evier was in, he made a slight gesture with his hand, and then, slinking out of the shadows, were to large felines. One panther, and one tiger. He glanced at the two felines, then continued walking towards the square. Before he left the street to face his opponent who had wanted to fight him, he made a gesture to the felines, and commanded them to stay, then he walked out into the others view. His red eyes flicked over the man, who seemed to be a half-demon. Fehade rested one hand on his katana, in a causal way, as if there was no threat.

He listened to the man speak, and the tieflings left hand twitched slightly, as black magic curled around it in a black mist, the dark energy crackling. He was eager to use a few of his spells on this fool. A thin smile flashed over his face, and he pondered on how he should kill this one. A slow and painful death, or a nice quick one to end this foolishness. And at that thought, he remembered the letter that had summoned him here, and his eyes flashed slightly with anger. The man continued to talk, but Fehade said nothing. He knew what the other may be trying to do, trying to get him angry so he would grow reckless. Fehade often played that game to others, like the paladin. The mere thought of paladins made him think of two weeks ago, when he was beaten by Rothardan, the new Captain of the Taras Guard.

He probably would have started spouting out insults and mockery, and the likes, but he wanted this to go quickly, if Hakri knew he was going off and fighting any one who challenged him, then it would get Fehade punished, and he didn't need to be beaten twice in a row, and if this one wins the battle, then it would the third one to ruin his pride. He grimaced ever so slightly at the mere thought of that.

He glanced to his sides to see if there was any other people around, but the place was completely still and silent. He looked up at the buildings surrounding the square, but it was dark, he saw only an occasion candle flickering between shut windows. He returned his calm, but slightly annoyed gaze back to the man crouching there, insulting him.

He stared at him, and didn't say anything even when he stopped talking. He knew they would most likely expect him to make the first move, and wondered if he even should, he might be planning to have him act first, and he didn't want to give him the satisfaction of falling into a trap. He then decided to speak, his voice calm, and dull.

"Hmm... this should already prove to be an interesting fight. But, I am curious as to way I, somehow sparked enough interest to make you, a worthless waste of my time, to send a poorly written letter to me, challenging me too a fight." He said calmly. His red eyes seemed to gleam. "But, no matter, this would also seem to be quick." He said, and gripped his two katanas, and slid both out of its scabbard, and held them both in a relaxed grip. A cruel smile twisted on his face.

This was the night. This was the night when all of this would come to an end. She would get her revenge, and Fehade would regret with every last fiber of his being ever crossing paths with her. He would writhe in agony and beg for mercy that would never be given… just the idea made her stomach feel fluffy with absolute ecstasy! The image of his blood scattered across the street and the limbs that would be cut from his body only furthered this excitement and it was all she could do to contain herself. Of all nights, tonight was not the one to be reckless. While it was very much a part of who she was, being wild just wasn’t going to help this situation. She always had Manic to fall back on if something went wrong of course, but she had to prove that she wasn’t a dependent little child. Besides, she didn’t exactly trust that man. He offered to help her, but that didn’t exactly mean that he would end up doing so. This had to go according to plan, or she was going to be one angry little vampire.

Just as he had instructed, Cordelia had stayed behind. For once, her footsteps were actually near silent as she tried to keep herself unnoticed. She was partially annoyed that she had to obey another’s orders enraged her and she didn’t comply, but if she wanted things to work this evening she knew she had no other choice. Manic knew what he was doing, so if this went wrong she would rest all the blame on his shoulders and never allow him within fifty feet of her ever again. He had caused her more harm than good, so this was his single chance to redeem himself and verify that he was useful. She didn’t want to be around anyone that was in his mental state unless she could use him, and he was a very lucky man that she had even permitted him to help with this ordeal after he had threatened her so many times. If anything went wrong, it was going to be completely his fault, and she would learn to never again trust anyone when it came to these important matters. If she wanted something done right, she would have to end up doing it herself, and frankly she had no problem with that.

It didn’t take a genius to realize that Fehade was near when Manic rose from the ground. She glanced into a nearby space between two buildings and moved into the space. It was close enough so that she would be able to hear what was going on and she would hopefully be able to peak out every now and then to see what was going on. A thought then sparked in her head and she reached into her pocket, taking out a single gold coin and placing it on the ground. If something happened and for whatever reason, Fehade’s attention went to her, she would just play dumb and lie. She was good at both of those, so it wouldn’t be an issue. All she would have to do was pretend that she had no idea what the hell was going on and that she wasn’t a part of it. Plus, she always had that alter self spell; give herself some blonde hair, change her eye and skin color, and they wouldn’t even know it was her! A smirk curled onto her lips when she thought about how smart she was and she straightened up within seconds, resisting the urge to whistle a cheerfully sadistic little tune, and rested against the building with her back to where the fight would be so that she wouldn’t be detected.

Every inch of her body stopped moving, right down to the last strand of hair on her head, and she even stopped breathing to keep her from being noticed at all. That smirk had completely melted away by now and she had become serious once again. The sound of footsteps reached her ears, which were undoubtedly Fehade’s. Manic had no reason to be walking, and with how stubborn and arrogant he was she didn’t think he would chase after the tiefling, and instead allow him to approach first. An anxious pit rose into her stomach, though she wasn’t at all afraid. The moment of sugary sweet vengeance was here, finally here. Manic began to speak, and while at first all that crossed her face was a grin, it soon became all she could do to keep herself from laughing. She threw her arms up and, upon thinking better, caustiously and silently rested her hands over her mouth to stifle any sounds that might come forth. Oh goodness, Fehade was going to be so angry! Those insults were just great and so completely true! Manic was so awful, Cordelia couldn’t help but love it! Sure, she disliked that man, but she could recognize talent. She wanted to turn right out of that little space and enter the conversation right there, taunting and tormenting the tiefling just like Manic was and get a little piece of fun as well. Her hands turned into fists over her mouth, her fingernails digging into her palms to try and stop herself. Stay smart… she reminded herself inwardly.

“You’re nothing but skin and bones and atop of that, you don’t seem very sure of yourself, trust me I know. Inside you’re wondering if you can really beat me, if this was a wise option, and if you’ll walk away from this in one piece.”

Cordelia was bent at the waist, her knees bent a little bit as well and she bit her bottom lip so hard to keep from cackling that she thought she would break the skin any moment. A quiet sound emitted from her and she chastised herself, trying desperately to get ahold of her actions. Luckily they were still talking so hopefully it would go unnoticed. She just couldn’t help herself! Intimidation was such a fun tool to use and Manic used it so well that it deserved some sort of recognition. She wished she could turn around to see the look on that ugly tiefling’s face when hearing everything that was being said about him, but she didn’t dare. It wasn’t essential to look out right now and if she was seen, this whole thing had the potential to go up in flames. Even her back up plans might not even work.

"Hmm... this should already prove to be an interesting fight. But, I am curious as to way I, somehow sparked enough interest to make you, a worthless waste of my time, to send a poorly written letter to me, challenging me too a fight… But, no matter, this would also seem to be quick."

Could he be anymore boring? Couldn’t Fehade get angry and start being stupid to make this a bit easier? Ugh, not only had she been wrong, but it seemed that Manic was the only one with a sense of humor tonight – well, besides herself, but she wasn’t making wisecracks yet so she couldn’t really count herself right now. She straightened up against the wall and adjusted the sleeves of her coat as she waited, since it wasn’t like she had anything better to do. Once she was satisfied with that, her right hand traveled down to the hilt of her sword and stopped there, while her left hand simply fell to her hip. For now, she had to let those boys have their fun, no matter how much it tortured her that she couldn’t get involved in the to-be delicious violence just yet. Just this once, she had to be patient. She had contained herself for the most part so far; hopefully it wouldn’t be much longer.

(( OOC: Sorry, cruddy post compared to my opener. Hope it's not a big issue and I'm sorry about the wait. Internet's been out of whack. ))

With a sudden jerk of the head it would rock backwards, as an inane laughter broke forth from betwixt his parted lips. Its sound was eerie, deranged, and quite frankly manic in its nature, only to add to his already freakish demeanor and personality. For a good period of time the laugh continued until it would soon break and subside itself into the silence of the city. That was until the soft jeering tone of his voice would pick up and carry itself to the ears of those who were listening, “Well, it looks as if you aren’t just a starving child, but also one giant contradiction. An interesting fight, but a worthless waste of time; granted it depends on your outlook of what an interesting fight is, but if it truly is such it wouldn’t be a worthless waste of time if you’re truly what I think you are…” Briefly his eyes would narrow upon the figure of that of Fehade, as if to study him better for a moment before continuing…

“Though, if you really are what I think you are…Then you’re beginning to look rather pathetic in my book and a waste of space to even continue drawing breath. Why the gods bestowed such a gracious gift upon you, I could never imagine…” Lifting his gaze from Fehade, it would simply cast itself over each of his shoulders and flanks in a brief scan to make sure that he was indeed alone. Once complete, both of his eyes would reside back upon him, “Just to forewarn you…Should you have one of your stupid little creatures along with you…It would be unwise to bring them into this altercation. I’m aware you have a horse, but just so you know. I have my own creatures and the second you introduce yours, all chances of your survival will be hung out to dry and trust me…You wouldn’t want that. Believe me or don’t, it’s your choice.” At this point everything he said would probably come out to be nothing more than idle threats. All the better…At least the man would probably give himself some sort of false confidence that would bring this fight to an easy victory.

The moment the man began moving though, all eyes fell down upon the blades that would present themselves from the sheathes at his sides. Two katanas, each lightweight in nature and quick to strike especially if the wielder was quite skilled with them, which led his thoughts to Cordelia. Did he even know what kind of weapon she even held in her arsenal..? As he thought on it for a moment, there really was no recollection of any weapon being present upon her person… Hopefully she had one and more so to the point, one that could combat such talented weapons such as Fehade’s. But if she didn’t, she would need be cautious, allow him to lead the attacks and simply rely on counters and mess ups by the man if he were indeed unskilled with them. All in all it could very well be a messy fight…Something that didn’t seem to bode too well with him.

Then again…There was nothing he could do about it. All he promised to do was chop this man down to her presumed level of talent; from there it would be her responsibility to keep him under wraps. So in a sense he would be holding his end of the bargain, so if she truly failed and disappointed him…No fault would fall back upon him. Such a delicious clause in the contract; and whether she knew it or not…She truly made a deal with the devil.

A smug grin crossed his slender lips at the thought, before returning his full attention upon the man before him. “Y’know, I seem to have forgotten my weapon…Such a trifling matter to say the least,” came the soft call of the man’s voice, both arms raising to expose his empty mid-drift as if to present the man with confirmation of his dilemma. Whether or not he would believe the act was another story entirely, but it really didn’t matter at this point, the only thing that mattered was coming up with a matter of starting this fight in a way that would benefit them the most. Over and over each of their pre-organized scenarios played in his head, while he still had the time to think knowing full well that his opponent would be doing the same. Then it had hit him after a period of time, granted it really wasn’t in the books, but it would work well enough. Most of the plan would play the same, since she would be introduced in the same manner, but the way he would get to that point would be entirely different.

“Lets play a game…A game of charades…” The soft slithery tone of his voice carried forth from the porcelain mask, seemingly lingering in the air between them. Lifting both of his arms up off to his flanks, they would bring themselves to a parallel base with the ground; each of his forearms would then drop downwards lifelessly to dangle there free in nature. Soon his head would take upon the same manner when it dropped forward, and at that point in time both of his legs would slide together to bring his feet side by side. Out of all the people in these lands, Cordelia would be one of the few that would know exactly what he was planning. It was like a trademark of his, but to make it truly convincing, it would need to be a played up a little. And so his voice commenced again, “I’m a man…full of light, strung along by wires of a false God. Bad is evil, good is untouchable…No matter who I kill it makes me no less of a man, since I’m killing bad people.” Again these were simply projections of the mind on what this man could possibly be like, but he didn’t expect this man to get it or even be able to figure it out. Especially if the said projections were nothing alike with what the man truly was like.

Giving the man a brief instance to think, both of his arms would snap up to a full extension off to his flanks, hands turned palm outwards to Fehade. Within a mere instant of the action, a light would outline his body, only to quickly engulf it with a searing and blinding light that would disable those who would look upon it. On top of that a loud bang would follow the light, deafening the unfortunate that would be caught as victim to it. Whether or not the man would be caught up within the trickery of his actions would remain to be foreseen, but just to make sure both his arms would drop to the ready at his sides, while both of his feet slid out to a prepared stance just in case the man took action. While he waited, Manic would call out the words, “I do say…I believe it’s getting awfully cold out here.” While it wasn’t the most creative thing he ever said, it would work to meet the purpose of what he needed it to do, besides if for whatever reason the man saved his hearing, then it would not be directly obvious as to the purpose of the words. That of course was to summon the Ice Queen Cordelia to the field of battle. Once the woman would present herself, Manic would proceed towards Fehade to close distance between them, but making sure to keep distance enough to make sure that Fehade couldn’t hit him with his weapons. At that point a spell would kick up, the anti-magic field, a truly useful item. Once complete, the massive half-sphere would consume a good portion of area around the two of them, which would prove to aid Cordelia more than anything. This all would hopefully proceed to take place moments before her actions following the introduction, so to ensure littler interference Manic would begin to quickly back peddle out of the large sphere and take up the space outside of it where magic was free to be used. Should Fehade step out, then Manic would be at the place to pick him clean apart.

Fehade thought he felt someone watching him, someone other then this strange man before him. He glanced to each side a moment, his eyes showing little emotion, and all that was, was annoyance, ad a little boredom of this event. He didn't even know this freak, and didn't want to waste his time on this right now, but oh well, he would end this quickly. He turned his gaze back onto the man, listening to his words, Fehade's red eyes seeming to glow brighter, and seemed to have a strange orange like tint glinting in them for less then a second.

“Though, if you really are what I think you are…Then you’re beginning to look rather pathetic in my book and a waste of space to even continue drawing breath. Why the gods bestowed such a gracious gift upon you, I could never imagine…”

Fehade was growing a bit angry, but tried to show no emotion on that. It seemed that whenever he fought fools, they tried to get reactions out of him, tried to make him blind by his anger. Not to long ago, that foolishness got the better of the tiefling, he had grown angry, and the paladin won, but that was only round two, Fehade would get his revenge soon, his revenge on the whole world if need be, but his first priority, was to get revenge on his family; find his sisters, kill them. Find his father, kill him, and anyone else who stood in his way, and of course, he won't let the paladins free, or demon-hunters, they would all die.

He perked up ever so slight with interest when the man said something about the creatures Fehade had, and the mention of the tiefling having a horse got him interested. This man must be aligned with someone who knew of Fehade's creatures, especially his nightmare. A thin smile slipped onto his face. Though he did have many enemies, only few suffered from his nightmare, and only few knew what it could do, so Fehade had his ideas on who this person might be with, but said nothing.

“Y’know, I seem to have forgotten my weapon…Such a trifling matter to say the least,”

"Magic user... I hate magic users, including you, tiefling." Rraezanon said to Fehade, but he ignored his infused demon, like usual. Fehade continued to watch the man, but saying nothing, it would be pointless, and lead this man on talking, which seemed to be all he was doing, until the man started to move, and Fehade tensed up a little. He cocked his head to the right a tad, a little confused as to what the man was doing, but then again, most magic users were strange. The man hung himself like a puppet, and when he spoke, Fehade could barely make sense of it, then before he could barely do anything, a blinding light flashed along with a loud bang.

Fehade hadn't expected that, and jumped back an step, and lifted a arm to cover his eyes from the searing light, but still it left him still surprised and a little dazed about that loud bang. When it was over, he shook his head to clear it, and let his eyes refocus, they soon did, but he was now getting angry. His fingers that gripped around the hilt of his sword twitched slightly, and his left arm was shrouded in a black mist with dark crackling energy. He glared out at the mage.

“I do say…I believe it’s getting awfully cold out here.”

He glowered at the man as he started to walk towards him. Fehade slid back into his stance, his grips on his katanas growing tighter, along with his anger building up. But then another spell was used, one of Fehade's least favorite spell, and one that everyone used, the anti-magic field.

"Damnit!." He cursed, as his left hand that had the magic formed around it suddenly dispersed, then his large, red wings reappeared from his back. "How come everyone knows that spell..." the demon infused whispered in Fehade's head. He stared at the man, still glaring. Then looked to his sides again. There was someone else, if there wasn't, then the man wouldn't have used this spell.

"When I kill you, I will make sure this damn place will be the first to go up in flames." He hissed. He was truly beginning to despise Taras, everyone seemed to come here just to fight Fehade, always challenging him.