She saw as he exited the door along the other edge of the hallway. At first, she wondered if it was another guard she had to take down, but after noticing the tall, dark figure, she sighed softly. That was a relief he hadn't gone and killed himself. The sigh soon turned to laughter, one way that she normally shrugged anxiety off. The adrenaline was still pumping and without the fight or flight reaction, since she stood idly, Wynne found her arms and hands shaking. She hoped it wasn't noticed by her counterpart, especially seen as fright. Nearing him, she too realized the door ahead was the final confrontation of the night: Colossus was behind the large frame of wood.

"Are you sure you wish to continue? Once we enter that room--which is where I am sure Colossus is--there will be no turning back." She shook her head. That wasn't a question that needed a response, an answer. It was certain that defeating Colossus was necessary, vital to her cause. "The call of death whispers to Colossus. We must fulfill it." While the tone hinted at fear, his eyes conveyed otherwise. She debated if it was excitement rather than fright, the former more of an obvious answer. Sometimes, eyes were the looking-glass into one's soul: it was easier to read their true emotion, a person's real persona.

Those words were her indication of being prepared for what was to come. Rolling her neck, the Banshee awaited for Absi to do the honors: to open the doors, hail the challenge, and face Colossus. She'd help, of course, but Absi had to make it seem that he was the mighty warrior fighting the demon lurking behind those closed doors, no? Mentally honed for the occasion, Wynne would enter behind her partner.

Absi lowered his head into a nod and then stepped forward to face the large doors before him. He raised both of his hands and pushed on the door until a crack became displayed before them. He soon pushed the door completely open, and the two were met by the light of many torches. The Descendant of Obscurity glanced over his shoulder and murmured to his partner, "I'll handle him as I am able." He parted his lips and released a deep breath while he moved forward with his hands dangling at his sides. Right now, things were easy, and they were smooth, at least until he stared deeply into the area before him and noticed the hulk of a man sitting upon the throne with his hand upon his chin. He said, "So the Brute is able to think after all?"

He chuckled to himself and then placed his hand onto the hilt of his weapon, Mournblade. Then he dropped the sword of Colossus' wife to his side and kicked it away from him. Meanwhile, his shoulders rolled into a small circle, and he sucked in a breath of air. Fear would no longer get the best of him.

Absi tunneled into the room first, followed by the elusive, slippery woman; she slithered in ever-so silently behind her larger comrade, cloaked by her rain-soaked garments. The warmth of the many fires rolled along her face, greeted by the well-lit room of torches along the pillars and walls. Stealth was useless, here. Her vision darted to Absi as he turned, nodding in regards to his statement. Even if he wanted to take the colossal man on by his lonesome, she would step in and aid him -- it was her who bestowed the mission, after all, the web weaver in all of this. She wouldn't let Absi throw his life away for her cause; if she was able, they'd both make it out alive. Daggers resting soon in their holster, she'd stand at Absi's flank, diagonal from his position slightly. She was to his right, a tad off to the side, more-so that she'd be able to observe the thug leader. And there he was: a man defined by his large stature, described to be as huge as a mountain. Colossus sat, deep in thought. She was surprised Absi had the gall to taunt the man.

Well, she also wasn't expecting the other small touch: the wife's blade thrown against the floor. She didn't know the large man loved someone, was even capable of such... it almost made her feel terrible for slaughtering his men. Her arms hung by her sides, fingers twiddling like someone awaiting to draw their weapon. She wouldn't speak, not until Colossus had noticed their presence.

---

The large man covered in ink of tribal tattoos sat within his throne, a large wooden chair that had simplistic touches. His head was lowered, arms protectively shielding his skull as he pondered. Something wasn't right. He had quite the gut-wrenching feeling, an intuition, if one will, that signaled havoc. The storm had dulled in the wake of two murderers approaching, a silence looming upon the room. The air was thick, hostility teeming. One could notice his muscular, bulky arms defined and bear, even the tone of his chest laid out for all prying eyes. He didn't need armor, people feared his thick hide was strong enough to deflect most threats -- and they were right. He was a menacing man, even as he sat and looked of normal stature; but as his head rose and he simultaneously stood to exude his intimidating presence, one experienced the true might of his size. Seven feet was almost impossible, unimaginable in the land -- many wondered if he was a considered a giant. If his height wasn't threatening, the physique and overall strength one would assume lingered throughout his muscles would surely instill fright. He stood against the two, proud with his shoulders straight, like any king of thugs; but he conveyed years, battles worth of experience. These two intruders would break under his unrelenting pressure, his firm, steel grip.

Dark, onyx eyes gazed at the hired hand as he stepped forward. They wouldn't widen, no. They squinted into a glare, reflecting on this wicked treachery. His gruff, deep tone of voice became evident with a snarl, "Huh. I did not expect to see you today, nor did I summon you. Leave my sight and tell whoever called you here to come see me -- right this once." The large man waved his hand through the air, as if he were some King dismissing his servant. His stern, commanding voice spoke volumes, echoed throughout the barren room. He soon came to realize that his instincts were true: his wife's blade sliding across the floor, all the way to the front of his boot had only signaled as much. He showed no shock or surprise, his features hardened; if anything, anger would surface. It didn't take long to study the nature of the weapon at his feet -- he knew as to whom it belonged to: Tricia. A wicked growl resonated within his thick throat, "So, this is what it has come to? After all I've done for you?" He paced slightly, his massive arms gesturing about. "I gave you a name, boy. I taught you what it means to be a mercenary -- this is how you repay me? By taking my bride?"

His hands clasped themselves together and he rubbed them for warmth, then he began to make his way towards the two who stood before them. The slow walk was so ominous, as if at any second, evil and hatred would rupture in powerful waves of torrential energy to consume the duo. "I assure you... the things I'll do to you are far more gnarlier than what you have done to my wife and men. Limb from limb, rupture of organs -- I will put you both through extraordinary pain and revel in it."

---

"Be careful." She whispered to Absi, creating distance between him and herself by rounding him slightly. Her hands still rested at her sides, eyes warily observing Colossus. He seemed enraged by Absi's betrayal, but too blinded by rage to notice her, for now. Still, she'd be best on her guard and watch, for a man so well-renown as he required it.

The Descendant of Obscurity permitted his stare to remain on the prodigious man, and remained inaudible as the person before him spoke. In a way, Colossus was like a father to him; no, he was more like an uncle. The man was someone who led Absi, who guided him and taught him the ways of the Mercenary. Perhaps this was for the better? He knew well that this day would eventually come, where coin controlled his actions more than that of his mind. Perhaps Colossus knew, deep down, that this day would come as well? At least, that would explain the reason he kept his emotions--all save for rage, to an extent--under check? Absi's shoulders rolled, but he did not make a motion to deliver the first strike. Not yet. He heard the stories of what this man was capable of, and today he would get the chance to experience the truth behind said stories.

His right foot pressed against the ground, and then his left slid backwards, which allowed him to give the impression that he was about to move through the doors in retreat, when he was simply measuring the male's ability to close the distance between the both of them. Silently, he began to count the steps of Colossus' stride, and then raised his gaze to look up towards the male. Absi's hand fell from his weapon, as if some strange need for peace washed over his person... or perhaps respect. He said, "Now is the best time for me to see who is stronger, the Master or the Student. For a long time, you've sat idle on that throne of yours, acting as if you have no true challenge. Today, I shall provide you with a challenge like none other. I will bestow onto you an honorable death... one that I did not get the chance to bestow onto Tricia." He paused as he spoke, for he knew it was not wise to anger the mountainous man before him, but he had a promise he needed to live up to. After all, he did promise the woman something when he closed her eyes for a final time. Here, he muttered silently to himself, "Regardless of my actions, and the need to do this, I am sorry. You were the only person close to me, and now I shall finish this in your name. May you rest in peace."

Perhaps it was not his right or place to mention the name of the man's fallen love. Then again, she was the light in Colossus' darkness, or so Absi figured during his time in the thug's ranks. His breath stilled and now, as the distance between the two of them finally closed, he realized just how much of an powerful figure Colossus had been. Previously, in his meetings with the man, Colossus was always sitting; not once had the man risen from the dreadful throne of his. Yet, even then, the man looked massive and scary, but now he was up and moving? Did he truly force the hand of a God this time around? Did killing the man's wife force him to move? When a man--as powerful as the one who stood before him--moved, it was often something guided by reason. And when that reason was strong enough, all would do well to stand out of that male's way. Sadly enough, Absi was the target it seemed, and there would be little he could do to avoid the path he lay before him when he accepted the contract. Living life by the way of the coin had its advantages and disadvantages. This was something young Absi would come to learn if--no, when--he survived this encounter.

Nevertheless, the Descendant of Obscurity currently stood on the side of the coins' disadvantage, for he was stricken by something he had not experienced since the days of his first trials. Just like the time he was dropped in the wild and told to live, with no direct way to make it him, Absi knew he had to survive, yet he could not bring himself to move. Was this the manifestation of fear that prevented him from moving? Was it fear that rolled through the very foundation of his being? Because now, at this very moment in time, the Mane of Chaos, Blacksword, was fearing Death. He was once a man that wanted to dance with Death to prove that he was more than it could be; he wanted to prove he was far out of its reach. And yet, he stood before it today, frozen as if time had stilled around his person. It was, at this time, that he did not know if he wished to advance or retreat. And then he remembered he was not alone, and he had a reason to face this man on this day. He released a soft breath of air and then bent his knees. For the moment, he wouldn't have enough time to draw his weapon, although he knew well that he would need it to pierce the flesh of Colossus. After all, the man was a walking tank, and not anyone could stand against him. But the Mane of Chaos, Blacksword, was not just anyone. So, for now, he stood his ground and raised his head while his shoulders rolled back. It was unclear as to how he would respond to the events of the male before him, but it was clear that he was more than willing to stand his ground.

Where Absi thought the man would strike at the golden opportunity, he'd resist the temptation -- he knew better than to be tricked; and well, he had yet to finish his discussion on the matter. Despite the eagerness his eyes conveyed for the carnage ahead, Colossus had learned to be patient, that it was more enjoyable and pleasurable to savor the kill. A wicked grin formed upon the man's visage, followed by a loud, obnoxious bout of laughter. In many ways, Colossus found Absi to be so ignorant and naive, especially to his measure of power. "Oh? You... provide me with a challenge? That's hysterical." Absi had yet to truly witness his might, his overwhelming power. He'd be running into this battle blindly. He resumed his slow, steady gait toward the two, growling. "Tricia was hardly a thug and you murdered her -- if anyone deserved an honorable death, it was my wife. You're a fool -- and keep your shallow apologies; you'll not be met with forgiveness, but a gruesome death."

He didn't stop, no. "You'll be squealing on the floor like a wee piglet, begging for my mercy, but I'll slaughter you like the insignificant creature you are, boy." He paused, onyx gaze wandering over to the mobile woman. "And then I'll gut your colleague. Well, maybe enjoy myself first, but I'll make this clear -- tonight, you both die." Upon further inspection, however, his eyes briefly widened. He had a celebrity within his halls. The cloak, the daggers and bow -- the silhouette of a human bound to secrecy, adhering to the call of death. "Well, damn; seems I'm graced with the Banshee's presence. My luck just keeps getting better -- a traitor and a nuisance." Colossus cocked his head to the right and let a dark smirk linger on that of his visage before his gaze returned to the mercenary before him. Rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles, Colossus began to limber up and prepare, which didn't take long. Gloves obscured his secret weapon, his fists solidifying into steel. While the gloves looked tighter, it was a subtle change, one with careful eyes might have noticed. And, without warning, the man lunged forward with a modest speed, curling his right digits into a fist, which aimed to collide with Absi's stomach. The fortified steel would certainly bolster the strength and power behind his swing, and with Absi's momentary halt in movement, it might have actually connected. It was an uppercut like punch, but targeted his abdomen. The other fist remained on level with his bulky chest, prepared to guard his frame, if necessary -- though, with his unique skill, he doubted he'd need it. From the corner of his scope of vision, he could watch the Banshee -- she'd be next on his hit list and he figured she was much more fragile than her male counterpart; which couldn't get any better.

---

She only shook her head, words defiant, cold. "We'll see who death visits on this eve. But, I suspect it'll be you, Colossus; for the Banshee's wail has yet to fail me." While he couldn't see her hostile glare, she watched him relentlessly, awaiting for him to strike. She wasn't familiar with the man's abilities, so if she could observe and witness the display, she would -- but eventually she knew it was mandatory to engage the man. She moved behind a pillar, peering her head around the corner before resuming motion. If she could slink behind the man, perhaps she could stab him in the lethal kidney area. Well, she would, had she not remembered Absi desiring the killing blow. Muttering to herself, she assumed a 'side-lines' stance, plotting as she witnessed the soon-to-be altercation.

She assumed the tightening of his gloves only came with the fist-like grip he gestured with his right hand. Unfortunately, she didn't catch the same tightness within his idle left appendage, meaning that if the hit connected, Absi would take the full brunt of its power. Her eyes widened and she hollered, "Look out!" Hoping it'd spur the man, the Descendant of Chaos, to move and evade, Wynne didn't lunge to attack the man. She found it'd be foolish, least to charge in blindly; but alas, sometimes it was necessary. The Banshee could only hope Absi wasn't frozen in fear.

When Colossus did not strike, Absi lifted the corners of his maw into the form of a smirk, and then tilted his head in the right direction, which sent his hair cascading down the length of his right shoulder. The man had control of himself... this was good. Had he known, he would have killed Tricia in a more grotesque way, but, alas, there was nothing he could do to change the past, even if he did not enjoy killing the woman who stood no chance against a blade of his skill. It wasn't until this moment--this very second in time--that Absi's eyes scanned the length of Colossus' chest, peeked over the muscle that was his chest, and eventually met the gaze that revealed truth behind the male's motives: the man before him was eager to take out the likes of the Mercenary, and that was enough to send a pleasurable chill down the length of Absi's frame. To think that he, a Mac'Aodah, would stand against the likes of a man who showed him a new world; a man who showed him a new life. To think, at the conclusion of this nights' event, he would either 'secretly' bring pride to the name he long since left, or he would bring shame. The conclusion, at this moment in time, was unknown to him, and it only helped to bring forth a want to win like nothing before. But if only Absi could muster that power that was deep down within him and drive his blade through the heart of the 'impregnable' tower that was Colossus. Then that tower spoke out to him and he couldn't help but chuckle in response; a simple action to hide the terror that silently shook the male's bones. But, at this moment in time, he would not bestow any more words onto the man. There was clearly nothing he could say that would drive his own form of fear into the tower... the only option for him now was to fight until the being before him could no longer move. He had to fight until the being would no longer draw breath in this life.

Then, when Colossus continued speaking, the Mercenary responded by clenching his jaws tightly together. He took on the insult that came towards him, and let it fill him with rage. In fact, it was this rage that blinded the Descendant of Obscurity until he noticed how the man's eyes altered. His brow rose, but he did not make motion to follow the gaze. Perhaps someone was behind him? Then the man spoke, and he said, in response, "I am no traitor. My hand is simply guided by others, and by coin. It is the sole reason, I shall rid you of the world this night." Of course, with that said, he knew well he was out of his league. Sure, he was born to fight and killing came just as 'natural' to him as breathing, but the man before him had experience and strength. And above all that, he was impregnable! Then the sound of cracking knuckles sent a wave of vibrations through the very foundation of his person; however, he would not deter for the moment. He would stand his ground, for there was no reason to back down now. 100 coin was offered to him on this evening, and that was a lot to turn his back on. Not only that, but he would come to gather some form of fame and glory, should people believe the story of him beheading the beast that was Crixus. Then his eyes found themselves drawn to the fist as the gloves shifted to the tower's power. And, unknown to the power the Colossus held within his bones, Absi simply knew he had to move, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Not now. Perhaps it was his body telling him that he needed to test the power within Crixus. Perhaps it was his body's wish to test the strength of the man before him. Today, if he came to face this man alone, he would have surly died, and the blow would have connected with its intended position; however, beside him--not literally--stood the one who hired him for such an event, and she called out for him to 'look out,' which made him snap to life.

A matter of seconds was all the Descendant of Obscurity had to move from his current position--or he was sure to be stopped in his place--and so he leaned the upper portion of his body back, which would have caused the fist--unless its position had quickly been altered--to graze the length very front of his armor while his body staggered back from the force he used to move it. His feet began to move in a rapid position, which he used in aim to regain his balance. When he finally did, he stood a total of ten feet from Colossus, which wasn't bad considering the reach of his arm, and then the reach of his sword, should it have been drawn. Then again, the man before him had an incredible reach as well. Come to think of it, the distance between the both of them could probably be closed quickly with only a few strides or so. This made Absi worry about the odds which stood against him, not only that, but the amount of time he had to evade that simple thrust with his fist. So far, the only real advantage he would have during this fight was his control over his Static Inertia, which would provide him with a slight advantage; however, that advantage would mean very little if he was not fast enough to counter. Of course, this meant he would have to size his opportunity to the right conditions and take shots that he were certain would land. The male drew in a deep breath of air and flicked his right hand towards the leather hilt of Mournblade. Then he pushed his thumb against the end of his sheath and slowly began to draw forth the weapon--silently--from its sheath. As he did this, his blue-green globes locked themselves onto the frame of Colossus, and he began to study the man to the best of his abilities. 

For him to gauge the strength of Colossus' powers would be essential to the mission, for he was experiencing them first hand. Not only that, but his actions would have to force openings to the man before him; he'd have to stand his ground and take whatever came his direction. If he missed anything, though, he was certain his 'partner' would pick up on it. Not only that, but the actions he took could provide useful information. For instance, if he attacked now, he could reveal the male's defensive skills, and, perhaps, possible weak points in Colossus' movements. Then again, he'd possibly end up with the shorter end of the stick if it came down to that. Two heads were usually better than one, and although he and the Banshee had not been physically speaking, he trusted her enough to rely on her ability to read situations. His life, at the moment, was in her hands. This realization came to him when he pulled the full length of his dull, dark grey blade, known only as: Mournblade. Then, with both hands gripping the hilt of the weapon, he pointed it towards the ceiling, and held it between himself and Colossus', while the back of the weapon's hilt hovered inches away from his stomach. This, for the moment, was the defensive stance of the Descendant of Obscurity; a stance he had not used for some time. "Come, then. Show me what you are made of. And then watch as I tare you apart, piece by piece." His words were a final attempt at some form of taunt, but he knew better than to think it'd be enough to enrage the man before him. To think he was strong with calm... to picture him as a raging beast was something not of this world.

The rookie mercenary found his words funny, did he? Did they think he was incompetent? Did they see him as a fool? Oh, he'd surely feel his wrath like an overwhelming pressure snapping his neck, busting his face and skull, or an explosion of his organs and tissues. He scoffed at the man's fickle words and his weak motive, figuratively spitting in response. "Hah, we'll see if the amount of coin that was offered was worth your pitiful excuse of a life." He was unimpressed to find his opponent in an idle trance -- it was uncommon if Colossus failed to instill fear into a soul, warrior or not. Perhaps he often found life boring; it wasn't frequent to find a challenge. So it wasn't entirely true for Absi to declare the man 'lazy' upon his throne -- a real opponent was difficult to come across, these dull days.

Alas, it seem fate wouldn't deal a fatal or critical blow to Absi, least not yet. It made Colossus inwardly swear to find that the Banshee had shaken the mercenary out of his frozen stupor. Still, he managed to land the hit: Absi stagged back as his solid fist raked upon his armor. The dark male was fortunate enough to catch himself with his 'twinkle toes' feet. He stumbled for a bit, until he was ten feet apart from the giant humanoid. But, he could easily close the gap, effortlessly return to the offensive -- to rain upon Absi. He paced a bit from side to side, sinister grin forming upon his sharp, jagged face. Absi was drawing his sword, huh? Did he think that'd help him against the might of his brawny frame? Shaking his head, laughing reverberating throughout his being, chest heaving to and fro, Colossus would mutter, "Very well," before he lunged forward, rapidly closing the gap between the two. His left hand swung, properties changing to reflect his metallic attributes. Along the length of his arm it shifted to the dense metal, his arm slightly shining amongst the lighting of the torches -- it moved to knock his defensive stance back, or at least thrust the sword in the forcing direction. His strength was pretty backed, pretty nigh; even if it wasn't entirely effective, he was still on the move. His other gloved hand, the right, went to capture the sword between fingers and his palm; the metal of his hand would negate any piercing wound. His arm was bent, like a boxer ready to defend, right forearm snapping forward to entwine his digits with the sword; it'd help remove any of that threat from his person. Meanwhile, his semi-unprotected chest (the right hand was sort of blocking, in a sense) would shine like metal, meaning that if the man aimed to throttle his sword forward, it'd be negated by his natural ability. Speed was in Absi favor; or at least best advised against this tank.

---

More study was required. Sure, she didn't notice the change of his hands underneath the fabric of his gloves, but Wynne began to realize the change of his body. The shininess alluded to the obvious: the man was capable of utilizing eiphyre, possessed the magic inside to draw out an ability. He was able to turn portions of his body into steel -- well, it looked like metal, but how strong was it. Watching him attempt an assault on Absi, she needed to further see if the man's properties reflected that of a naturally made blade of steel -- least, she assumed Absi didn't possess an eiphyre weapon; it was difficult to come by, especially to those not of imperial army ranks. Eyes attentive, even for any attacks against her part, Wynne needed to see more distinguishing features of Colossus. It was her analysis; it needed to be quick, precise and accurate, lest Absi's life be placed on the edge in vain.

The words, "Hah, we'll see if the amount of coin that was offered was worth your pitiful excuse of a life," rolled through the foundation of the Mercenary's mind, and he couldn't knock them away as they continued to repeat until it focused on the end, 'your pitiful excuse of a life.' Was that it? Was that the truth? That is how Colossus felt? Oh, how much that eased the burden he, the Mane of Chaos, Blacksword, carried upon his shoulders. If the man disliked him from the get-go, he had no reason to hold back the might that belonged to his bite. His tongue flicked along the length of his teeth, and then his lips took on the form of a broad grin while he simply slid his right foot away from his left in order to put a bit more distance between the both of them. Eventually, his shoulders rolled froward, but he refused to move; he refused to give any form of ground. Retreating was not the option. Today, he would drive his bladethrough the man who was said to be impenetrable. After all, the man never moved from his throne, but here he stood, towering before the Mercenary. 

From beyond the side of his weapon, he could note the shaking of Colossus' head and only moved to narrow his gaze onto the man. He could not understand the meaning behind the male's motion, but he knew well it was in some form of disapproval. Nevertheless, he would not have to wait long, for the answer to his unknown thought would be found when the man before him began to laugh. And, to the Mercenary, the sound was that of a beast unknown to any man!  And then the man was off, lunging towards the Mercenary with quick steps that closed the distance between the both of them. Now, Absi knew well that he'd have to brace for impact, for he did not know how the man would approach; however, he figured the meeting would have something to do with him and those large fist. And soon enough, his thoughts were answered, for the left hand came towards him; the sound being picked up by Absi's understanding to the vibrations in the air; this would cause his unique orbs to shift towards the on-coming fist in attempt to read the attack, all the while, he tried his best to keep focus of the male's large frame. Then he noticed the shine of the male's arm and flicked his gaze, as quickly as he could, along the male's chest and in the direction of his other arm. At this time, he would only notice the landing of the attack when he heard the sound of the male's fist ring against the blade of his partner, which allowed Colossus to do as he intended.

The Mercenary's defense stance was indeed knocked back, and his body was as well from the power behind said attack. Absi used the power of the male before him to force himself into the direction of the weapon, which took him in a roll to the left. The roll was then done fast enough for Absi's back to linger upon the ground for no more than a second, and then he shot himself to his feet. In the next second, he pushed himself forward, while he remained low to the ground, and aimed to--once he recovered full control over Mournblade--roll forward and then slash the blade directly behind the bend of Colossus' knee. The man before him was a walking tank; this meant he would have to take something away from the man. Perhaps he'd start with the legs? If a tank could not move, the only thing to worry about next would be the male's gunning arms, which he could take care of easily, should he get the man immobile. So then, he began to formulate his plan around such actions... or did he have something else in mind? 

Colossus wasn't expecting the man to best his strength -- that was his nigh feat, along with stamina. His ability granted him a stronger defense, force with his strikes and less exhaustion with movement; well, not having to move much meant less tire on his part and he usually didn't have to move, coating himself in metal and all. Still, the man would find out speed was in Absi's favor, at least with tucking tail and rolling to the side. But, the man didn't need to move much, just a pivot and shift in direction whilst moving in unison with the roll. He'd trail the mercenary, eyes and body prepared to witness and react accordingly.

Absi was very fluid on his footing, that was apparent. The muscular man watched as he gracefully rolled back onto his feet, sticking low as he advanced forward -- he was coming, quickly. Colossus bent his knees, almost like a sumo-wrestler's stance, now facing the man who was about to roll. He rolled with the intention to move pass the giant, so he knew it could only mean one thing: he was attempting to nail a weak spot, a vital area. So, whilst Absi was in his roll, he'd focus enough of his power to encase his entire body in that metal property. While it wasn't concentrated much behind the knee, he'd find that Absi's blade would make a chip within the metal, which made Colossus stumble a bit. It was as if the spot was brittle, but now with a swift turnaround, Colossus returned to face the man, laughing a bit. Seemed as if Absi had a few tricks up his sleeves. All except his head was metallic in shine, which might have been blinding, considering the shine of fire in the light -- perhaps not, but now Colossus had to be careful, had to be precise. He didn't need a more critical injury. Enough focus to 'repair' the little notch behind his knee, Colossus momentarily watched Absi, wondering if he'd be daring enough to make the next move?

---

Raewynne was relieved to find Absi removed himself from the threat. While she couldn't see the damage he might have inflicted on the man, she noticed that whatever he did, it caused Colossus to stumble briefly. Was it from pain? From injury? Colossus faced her, until he turned, then her honey-irises caught the little notch in his metal-leg. It wasn't enough to cause significant damage, but it was certainly a step in the right direction. Raewynne then noticed the notch 'healing' as if liquid metal formed in the little space. This was a lead: the more areas he turned to metal, the less dense and sturdy they'd become. At least, she'd need the theory to be tested again to be 100 percent sure.

The Descendant of Obscurity studied the male before him with careful eyes and took note of how easily Colossus could move and keep up with him. He rose to his feet slid his left foot behind him and his right foot before him. He sucked in a deep breath of air, and then positioned his feet to where the heel of his right foot was no more than seven inches away from his left. Then he tightened Mournblade within both of his hands and held it before him, yet again returning to the defensive stance he'd taken previously. In the next moment, he was found flexing the hidden muscles of his legs, tightening them, and when he relaxed his breath, he found himself pushing off the tips of his right toes so that he could move in a backwards lunge. The sudden movement of him lunging backwards caused the strands of his 'loose' hair to flow before him and slightly obscure his vision to the sides, not that it mattered, for his only target was before him.

Nevertheless, his action was nothing more than deception, for he wished to make the male think he was forcing himself into another retreat; he was hoping Colossus would take the time to jump at him. Regardless of the man advancing upon him or not, the tips of his left toes would find themselves pressed against the ground so that he could cut the 'retreat' short, an action that would make his 'air-time' that of a few seconds. This would also cause the Mercenary's hair to flow along the length of his body, which was the only signal that he was altering his position. Again, he didn't care because he already knew he had to time his movements correctly. His body pushed off the tip of his toes, and he suddenly lunged forward with his sword leading his upper body, and his right leg shifting to guide his lower body. If all went well, he would be directly on Colossus' side with both of their right arms facing one another.

At this point in time, his breath would release and he'd guide his blue-green globes in the direction of the male's face, with hopes of making eye-contact. Such an action would prevent a read of his person, for the eyes usually led in the direction one was about to move. Nevertheless, it was fair to believe Absi was going to go in for another strike. This got rid of the question, to Absi, of where he was going to try and land his blow; however, he did not know when he was going to land the blow. If he was going to be the victor of this fight... if he was going to come out on top, he would have to outsmart the tank of a man before him. Overpowering would not be an option, for he simply lacked the strength. Not only that, but he lacked the piercing power. Stronger men had come before Colossus, with stronger weapons and powers; however, the tower remained standing, un-chipped. And yet, little Absi rocked the tower, but sadly, he did not get the chance to see it topple!

But, at the end of this day, he would. He just knew he'd come out on top, and he didn't care how he got there either. If that meant he'd have to lose an arm in order to land the striking blow, he would, for at this moment in time, the adrenaline he felt within his muscles had been surging. He could feel the need to draw forth power and energy. He felt the need to display his skill. If he survived today, he knew well that nothing would be able to stop him! He needed this. He needed to be the one to take out Colossus!  Thus far, since his little movement to the Male's side, Absi realized--based on the amount of his own heartbeats--that a single second passed, and that meant he would still have time to move. He forced his weight onto his left foot and began to spin himself on the ball of his left foot. His left hand then raised away from Mournblade's hilt, and moved in the direction of Colossus' upper shoulder, but never aimed to connect. In fact, when he got within a reach of the tower's shoulder, his hand retreated to the hilt of his weapon, which he thrust forward in attempt to slide the sharp end of his blade along the back of the male's knee once more. Of course, to add more power behind the thrust, he had to keep his body moving with a push off of his right foot. This meant he'd possibly tire himself out quicker, but that was fine. He needed to find a weakness to the tower's build, no matter the cost.

If the man didn't lunge before, he wasn't going to be tricked now; Absi's backwards motions would go undisturbed, essentially. The man was wondering what the mercenary was up to, more or less. But, his actions were similar to before; was he attempting the same maneuver? Surely enough, he was. Metal still encasing his frame, he'd make the area behind the knee stronger, more dense and sustainable of the slice Absi was prepared to make. So, when the man's sword aimed to slice both knees potentially in his movements behind him, Colossus aimed all of his focus and concentration into providing the utmost armor at his backside -- when the slice hit, it hardly made a dent, hardly scratched the surface of the metal leg; which would evidently mirror the opposing limb, should Absi continue in his action. The contact caused a loud, grating shriek of metal against metal -- it was unfavorable and unkind to the ears, like nails on a chalkboard; with his enhanced hearing and close proximity, Absi would face the painful noise head on, basically, as Colossus went to turn around once more.

Meanwhile, all this running around made Colossus rather bored, rather angry; he wanted actual action, wanted more of a challenge. Facing the woman, he realized that perhaps he could find more of a fight with her as a target and began his approach, dragging the metallic and heavy legs across the old wooden flooring.The three were all in range and close to a wooden pillar that barely held the side of the room up; with a large swing of his left arm encased in metal, it'd break through the structure, causing that side of the ceiling to cave in -- metal wrapped around him now, shielded him from the wreckage harming him as it descended; the two would be more concerned, considering their frail, weak bodies. Hopefully they had quick reflexes.

---

Wynne was observant, inspecting the damage Absi now placed upon the giant of a man; it proved less of a result, also briefly causing her to wince at the sound of grating metal. Bringing her hands to cover her ears against the fabric of the hood, her eyes would widen to see Colossus moving to face her direction again; wondering now if his attention would be placed upon her. In that small span of time, his arm swung to take out the pillar near her, she realized his intention: he wanted to thwart their speed with a possible injury. Colossus was tired of playing cat and mouse. He wanted to cripple and grab his kill. Reacting with the utmost reflexes and instincts, the woman utilized her quickened steps to dash toward the other end of that side of the room, diving to nearly evade the ceiling from crashing down upon her. She was safe, but she didn't have the time to warn Absi -- eyes scanning around, she hoped to find him safe and away from the rubble.

With his action, rain now entered that gaping hole of the building, the storm now louder without the entire confines of their hideout muffling it.

The Descendant of Obscurity heard the sound of Mournblade's sharp end dancing its way along the metal of Colossus' body, and clenched his jaws in attempt to prevent the sound from getting to him too much. Needless to say, he failed, and soon took note of the towering male's frame breaking away while he lowered himself onto a single knee. At this time, the only thing to keep him standing had been the point of Mournblade, which he stuck into the ground with his right hand, and soon held tight to it. The sound of the metal against his weapon echoed in the back of his head, while the ringing continued to play on repeat; an action that would cause the male's vision to become blurry. By the time he came-to, he the ceiling was descending onto him, and he had not had the chance to completely evade. He rolled to the right, which was the direction he held Mournblade, and freed the weapon from the ground. However, when he moved to stand, he found he could not, for his left leg had been trapped beneath a piece of rubble. The Mercenary groaned to himself and tried to push the piece of rubble from off his leg, but could not get a good grip from the angle he was in, which had him forced onto his stomach with his weapon out of his reach. He then turned his eyes in the direction of Colossus' frame, which seemed to grow smaller when the distance between the both of them grew.

He watched the male's back with disgust. He had some nerve, turning his back on the Mercenary, only to head in the direction of The Banshee. Did he not think the Mercenary to be strong enough? Did he not think the Mercenary to be worthy of his skill? Perhaps he was an easy read...? Perhaps he was a force one could not understand? Or, perhaps he was just unskilled enough to face the male before him. His head dropped onto the ground and he soon held it there, uncertain of what the outcome would be now. Here he lay, unable to escape the rubble without breaking his leg--for the most part--because he could not get his hands onto said piece of rubble without turning himself in a complete circle, which would indeed snap the leg. He soon pressed his forehead against the ground, and then looked up towards Mournblade, which happened to fall out of his reach. He, at this point in time, was helpless and out of luck. Perhaps the Banshee would be the one to deliver the killing strike after all? For him to think he stood a chance against a foe as the one he faced was foolish. He was still new to all of this, and he never even finished the training of his family.

Just when Absi thought the man was approaching Wynne, Colossus decided to observe the results and consequences of his action -- only to be extremely amused to find the flighty mercenary warrior with blonde-white locks to have fallen prey to the rubble. "Perfect." He muttered, a deep, burly laugh emanating and escaping his cracked, dry lips. His jaw, sharp and angled, unlocked to allow his maw to flow agape, turning and powering through the rubble around him to push in the other direction now; his intentions to end Absi where he was currently laying. "I'll deal with you later, bitch." He muttered to Raewynne. He despised those who were agile, loathed those who couldn't just swing swords or axes or brawl with fists; these two aggravated him, evident by the quaking of his clenched fist: psycho-motor agitation, no less.

The tower of a man pressed onward, his frame inching closer to the downed man. His fists hardened and were once again encased in metal as well as his backside -- he didn't need the woman back-stabbing him now, did he? How would the male react, knowing that his death was slowly creeping up to him? Hah, how joyful Colossus was.

---

Raewynne, a little low on oxygen, panted after her little dash to remain safe and unharmed. The woman was grateful to be unscathed, but as her attention diverted from Colossus to Absi, she realized he wasn't as lucky and fortunate. "Shit." She muttered inaudibly under her breath, seeing Colossus easily change his opponent, knowing that Absi was pinned. She needed to help him, somehow... but what? Clearly knowing she had to eventually face the giant of a man, the woman decided she could attempt to thwart the thug leader. Rounding the rubble, Wynne would begin to speedily dash toward the two impending forces, hoping she'd make it just in the nick of time. Would Absi see her approaching in the distance? Hopefully, if she couldn't make it, Absi would find a way to defend himself; just to bide himself some extra time until Raewynne came to his rescue.

The Descendant of Obscurity looked up from his current position and soon shifted his head in the right direction as the man approached. He looked towards Mournblade and then calculated the distance between himself and the weapon. Even with the full stretch of his arm, he would be unable to reach the weapon, so here, he laid, helpless. He lowered his head down and sucked in a deep breath of air while his digits brushed themselves against the ground. As the distance between him and the male closed, the Mane of Chaos, Blacksword, began to count this as his end. He closed his eyes and allowed darkness to descend onto him. It felt like days passed, and nothing had happened. So, the Mane of Chaos, Blacksword, said, "Is that all your worth? Going to kill a man who's downed, and going to take your sweet time getting here? If you're going to end me. Do it already. If not, you're not the man I thought you were. " He raised his free foot and pushed it against the rubble, but the heavy piece did not budge. Absi then lifted his arms into a shrug and scuffed softly to himself. Whatever was to come would be his own undoing. If he was to fall here today, that would be because it was the wish of destiny. He then opened his eyes and stared the man down, but in doing so, he did not notice the approaching form of the woman he came here with. Then he simply closed his eyes once more and attempted to push himself up, but was unable do to the heavy thing upon his leg. From this position, he knew well he was unable to lift it.

He sucked in a deep breath of air and then dropped his shoulders in the form of a light shrug. What was to happen now? It was all out of his reach; it was all out of his hands. A sadness, but truth it was. There seemed to be no fight left in the Mercenary. 

Nearer and nearer, Colossus inched toward Absi, the 'cripple' -- not that he was, he certainly wasn't, but he was incapable of moving more or less. This humored the giant, thrilled him to see the mercenary so easily subdued and pinned; it didn't matter that his foe mocked and taunted him. Most did that as they met death, or begged... seemed Absi was a little higher on the chain of merit, though still low that he tried to get a rise out of the Bonehunters Leader. "Hah, can it even be said that you know me and I you? Besides, I want to remember every detail of this eve." Pausing for breath, he stood and towered over the man, even debating to place his weight upon the rubble holding his captive down -- that would be so cruel and while he felt inclined to do it, rage focused elsewhere. Yes, he wanted to pummel the man's skull. "I want to remember my fist endlessly mashing into your skull until it's reduced to nothing but pulp -- want to feel that sensation. So, I'll damned-do please what I want." Right arm raising, fist clenching, Colossus had his hand and adjacent arm become dense with the metal. Elbow bending, he aimed to bring down his form of punishment and judgment down onto Absi -- a swift and powerful smashing-blow to Absi's cranium; and if willing, he'd do it... over... and over...

Nothing could possibly stop him now. Cackling boisterously, he figured that the fight was over... that it was checkmate. But, he was far from being right.

---

Speed was her friend's savior. Alacrity nigh, rushing to thwart Colossus's offensive, daggers were poised and at the ready to strike. Wynne moved gracefully; her frame agile and quick, perfect for this situation -- for it was her swift reaction and action that nearly saved Absi's life. Something Colossus didn't possess was matching speed, but he clearly made that up in strength -- so long as she could effectively and perhaps even narrowly evade the giant of a man, everything would be smooth. If caught, well... she'd likely break easily under his gargantuan grasp.

Rounding the bend had an advantage, in a sense -- eyesight was facing the assailant, meaning she could perceive his actions without any blur or lack of focus. It also meant that she could adjust her blades to suit her needs. Now that she rounded completely and began to face the giant, Wynne dashed head-on toward Absi and Colossus, left blade angled peculiarly. Her reasoning was the sound ability that rested within those special Eiphyre daggers. Ears could hear her approach, the rubble wasn't kind at keeping stealth, secrecy and silence; but she wasn't aiming to be quiet, she was aiming to be quick. Just in luck, too.

Dipping down low, she'd extend her right blade outward, swinging it toward her left side -- it wasn't aimed to slice his hand -- no -- but his forearm, just a little ways above the wrist. Her reasoning? He likely didn't concentrate his power to the best of his abilities in that point. In fact, his focus was his hand, the object that would harm during impact. So, when she swung, her blade cleanly cut through, not enough to sever the limb entirely, but to throw off the direction of the fist -- the appendage now dangled and swung, clenched fingers just knocking Absi on the noggin'. The fist fell short of the blow, impact above Absi's skull, before Colossus stumbled back and staggered, more in disbelief than in agonizing pain -- still he moaned and growled, but what came next disoriented him: "Stiúdú." It was a soft muttered word that Absi was within earshot to hear -- her left dagger pointed just rightly at Colossus, he'd be graced with a stunning pitch that aimed to knock him off balance and disorient him for a brief time. And then, with a mighty loud thud, he'd fallen just a ways-short off, a blood-curdling snarl, "YOU FUCKING WITCH! GRAARGH!"

Meanwhile, Wynne wasted little time to help remove the rubble from Absi's frame -- bending correctly so she wouldn't pull a muscle or harm her back, she'd try and lift up the rubble; hopefully with their collective effort, they'd be able to free the descendant of chaos -- or if he had an alternative, it might have helped that she lessened the weight on his shoulders. Still, they needed to be quick, Colossus would regain himself shortly.

The Descendant of Obscurity could hear the man inching towards him, but did not stir from his current position. He, a man who seemed to believe in himself as being absolute, and one of the better warriors, remained faced down against the ground. A small portion of him believed this was the end, but another portion of him knew this was just the beginning. Each breath he took made him relax more; each breath he took made him remember. He survived worse than this. He had a lot more to live for. No way would he fall to the likes of this fiend! He had yet to escape the world; he had yet to forge a name for himself. So why would he give up at this point in time? Why would he cower in the face of death? The being could not touch him! (At least not on this day). He growled to himself and then reached his right hand forward and curled his slim digits into the form of a fist. He soon slammed his hand onto the ground and muttered something that went unheard. When Colossus spoke about him not being able to claim he knew the man, Absi raised his head to stare at the towering being and curled his lips into a grin, but he did not respond to the male. Instead, he pushed the bottom of his booted foot against the rock that held him down. Afterwards, he clenched his jaws together and then the features of his face hardened.

By the time Colossus spoke again, about the Mane of Chaos, Blacksword, remembering every detail of this eve, the male's blue-green orbs had completed their raising motion, and eventually rested on the male's face. To this, he said, "To think you are better than I is a mistake. Once I stand again, I can promise you I shall no longer hold back. You will feel the sting of darkness, and my might will overcome you." This was unlike Absi, speaking in such a serious nature towards the target he was hired to kill. Something in him ticked, and although he could not move, it was clear that he knew he'd be the one to end the life of the man before him. Not only that, but it was clear things had become personal to the Mercenary. Besides, the Mercenary was pinned at the leg, it did not mean his movement was completely stopped. And then it happened. The man was moving towards him with the intent of smashing the Mercenary's head in. At least he was true to his word... quite honorable, but that meant little at this point. Stepping to the Descendant of Obscurity would be the last thing Colossus would ever do! 

As the fist drew nearer to his person, he would hear the sound of his 'partner' closing in the distance. His eyes shifted as the woman drew in and altered the position of the swing. The Descendant of Obscurity's head altered its own position to the side, and he watched as the fist narrowly missed the flesh of his face. His eyes hardened and anger swelled within the center of his person. Oh, how much fun he would have in ridding the life from the male before him. Jaws clenched while the digits of his hands curled themselves into tighter fist. His urge to kill had awoken; his anger enough to guide the monster that was he. Then, Colossus stumbled and staggered, just as the Mercenary heard the word: Stiúdú. What happened next gained the Mercenary's focus, for the tower of a man before him had become greeted with a mysterious attack, and then yelled out in the air. Then, he was helped and freed. The moment the rubble eased off his foot, he relaxed the digits of his hands and soon pressed the palms against the ground before him. Then, with the muscles in his arms, he shot himself forward with a sudden thrust. The pushed only allowed him a distance of five feet, which was just enough to close the gap between himself and his sword.

When he reached his sword, he moved to curl the slim digits of his right hand along the length of the leather-wrapped hilt. Then he raised his arm and shoved the point of his blade into the ground so that he could use it as an aid to stand onto both of his feet again. Oh, how good it felt for him to be free! He shifted his position and took the weight off his left leg so that he could focus it onto his right. Of course, that could reveal to someone he had some form of injury. In truth, it was painful to rest his weight fully onto his leg, but he didn't care. He'd do anything to win, and if that meant he'd have to lose his leg in the process, he was for it, simply because he had a point to prove. It was not strength that determined the victor. It was not power that determined the victor, nor was it skill. The only thing to determine the victor was the will to fight and push on no matter how much of a gap was between those who stood against one another in battle. Knowing this, Absi moved his right arm and tugged the 'black' blade from the ground and raised it before his person. He said, in a dull tone, "I will show you why you do not cross the path of darkness. When I am finished with you, you shall never again see light."

He shifted his stance once more and then narrowed his gaze onto the male before him. The grip on his sword tightened and then relaxed for a moment. After a few seconds, his face seemed to be a complete void of emotion. After all, Absi was put in a trance, one that made him want to live. He had too much to lose! And like it was during his first phase of the trials, he was empowered by the Hunter, a manifestation of a being he mentally created in order to live. His jaws clenched and then he began to ignore the pain within his left foot. Just then, he shifted his weight onto the injured foot and released a deep breath of air. His focus, for a second, became blurry because of the rage he felt, and the new surge of adrenaline within his person. Then, in the next moment, he shot himself forward, feet hardly skimming the ground due to his long strides. The Hunter was not afraid of the tower before him, as the only thought it processed was the fact Colossus needed to be dead. When the distance was closed, the Hunter pivoted in his right foot, as if he did not learn his lesson from before. Then, when all of his weight shifted to rest on the tips of his toes, he suddenly pushed himself forward in a straight on thrust. His aim was to bury the point of his sword into the male's chest. And although he knew the blow would not pierce the flesh, he knew well what he was doing. 

To be honest, the Hunter was useless against Colossus, for the man had powers, and the Hunter could not get through the metal skin. He was not like his partner, he was normal. But that would not stop him from trying. She had saved him two times this night. And he had saved her none. He, at this point, did not wish to rely on her anymore. He wanted to prove his worth to himself and to the woman before him. He wanted to show her he was capable enough to fight the man before him. So, as he moved forward, sword guiding itself towards the male's heart, the Hunter knew he'd focus his metal protection there. So, at the last minute, before he could close the gap between himself and the man, he shifted the weight of his body onto his left foot; the pain was great enough to make him twitch, as well as reveal the next part of his plan, which was to make his way around the towering body so that he could strike from the blind spot of the tower. Of course, that in itself was not the true motive. He pushed his weight onto his leg, having hoped Colossus would believe he was going to go for the knee or get behind him, when instead, he continued his thrust forward; however, his weight was not fully behind the movement. Regardless of this fact, the Hunter considered himself to be absolute; he considered himself victor. And no matter the cost, he would come out on top.

Perhaps Absi didn't think he was effective against Colossus; maybe it was true, reality that he could do nothing against a man with unnatural power -- however, Raewynne provided quite the opening when she fired her invisible pitch frequency at the giant; stumbling and staggering back, equilibrium was off -- it made him dizzy, made him disoriented and nauseous; one thing he didn't expect was to see double of things. To Colossus, the room was swirling, he saw Absi approaching him, but witnessed 'two' of his person rushing forward. With his vision spinning as his head 'vibrated', Colossus found that he couldn't pinpoint the exact location of the incoming attack.Well, it was uncertain where Absi would strike to the man, but he expected he was lunging for his femoral artery, a stab right in his groin -- so the man encased that area with metal and some of his torso, unsuspecting of the sword to effectively pierce into his chest. Except it didn't... yet... Shame, but Absi could have killed him then and there, without fancy tactics.

Soon, the double-duo of Absi wasn't in his peripheral vision, suspecting the man had aimed to get behind him.At least, he wasn't gazing downward, much, so he didn't see the shift right away -- metal began to cover his backside and groin-torso area, chest still exposed; though his front was less focused with power. This was Absi's chance to strike lethally, end the giant of a man -- all he had to do was strike, quickly, one might add. With a useless arm he was also trying to mend, Colossus hardly possessed any concentrated control over his body -- he, at this point, could be described as a train wreck.

And Absi struck, mournblade piercing his chest. He heaved forward as if doubling over in pain, growling and grunting at this sensation -- it was something he hardly felt. Colossus didn't look so mighty as he cringed and crunched forward slightly, blood spurting from his now agape maw. He struck a fatal blow, the man hit in the heart. Life quickly faded from his towering form, it looked as if Colossus went to say something but it was far too late -- he passed, weight of his body now slowly teetering forward, unintentionally aiming to crush Absi to the ground once more. His metal protection ceased, returning to a fleshy state. Colossus was no more.

---

Wynne moved from Absi's position, choosing not to interfere -- as promised, she wouldn't land the final blow. She observed from the sidelines once more, antsy on her toes in case she realized she'd be needed again and had to make the dash toward the combative two. But, would the battle soon draw an end? Yes, she could see as much.

The Mercenary watched as his blade moved to bury itself within the giant's frame. His eyes hardened as the weapon drove in deep and his attack landed. He could feel the air leaving the male's frame while his blade easily tore through the flesh of Colossus' body. When the Tower of a man heaved forward and moved to double over in pain, the Hunter shifted his right foot behind him and leaned all of his weight onto it. Then, the Hunter noticed the look on the male's face and wrinkled his brows until they made a v-shape. Only then had he noticed this would be the end of the battle! When blood spilled from the male's mouth, the Hunter was now completely certain he had stricken the final blow. This was the end for the man who was said to be impenetrable. And then Colossus moved to say something, however, the action seemed to go incomplete, while his body descended towards the Hunter moments later.

The Hunter, having placed his weight onto his back foot, easily stepped back, which caused the length of Mournblade to retreat as well. He aimed to force himself back within just enough time to dodge the male's falling frame. As the metal protection retreated from Colossus' body, the Hunter narrowed his eyes and then released a deep breath of air while he lowered his gaze onto the body before him. He did it, yes, but not on his own. He was not strong enough to defeat the powerful male before him. He was not strong enough to defeat the man on his own accord. How sad... In fact, he'd never know if he was strong enough to take out the man who lead the Bonehunters. Perhaps this was a good thing? Should it or should it not be a good thing, there was nothing to do about it now. This made him wonder if he had the right to take the claim for killing the towering male? He didn't think so, but he also wouldn't voice his opinions, for he was uncertain of many things when it came down to situations like this.

Needless to say, he found himself wondering what the outcome of this battle would have been, should his partner had not been here. He looked from the male's body and towards the woman who was considered his current partner. Then he sucked in a deep breath of air, moments before he released it, and rolled his head along the dimensions of his neck. Then he simply lowered his head into a nod and turned away from her so that his gaze could linger on the fallen frame of Crixus Cossutius, a man he would never be able to best. He clenched his jaws at this thought and then muttered something to himself before he raised the weapon within his right hand and Mournblade with it. Moments after, he dropped the same arm, which lowered the 'black' blade of his weapon, and sent the blood of his victim flying through the air and off of the weapon that could only be wielded by his hand. He sighed softly to himself, as if there was nothing for him to care about. The Mercenary raised his sword into the air and then dropped its tip down in a way that allowed it to become sheathed once more. When the weapon was secured, he curled his hands into fist and then relaxed them a few times. Afterwards, he turned his back onto the situation and walked towards whatever torch that remained lit. Afterwards, he grabbed the torch and looked around for some oil. Perhaps it would be best to burn this place to the ground?

The room seemed to quake when his body crashed into the busted flooring, his towering and enormous frame landing like a pile of stone. Wynne allowed a soft but heavy sigh escape her lips, the conclusion dawning upon her: the battle was fought and won, their mission was ultimately successful -- and neither of the two would walk off with extensive injuries, but scratches, bruises and the like. Absi and Wynne were quite fortunate with the outcome, that was a given. The Commander of the Claws was relieved to be standing in one piece, thankful it wasn't her or Absi to have fallen. It wasn't a sense of joy that washed over her slowly-growing-exhausted being, but humbleness -- sure, it was a mixture of some joy, but she couldn't be any more grateful to be alive. Life was a blessing and privilege, after all.

Her honey-oculars caught the fickle gaze of Absi's own in her proverbial direction. While eyes conveyed many hints at what one was thinking, she couldn't exactly pinpoint what Absi was thinking. Tilting her head, she observed and watched him, surveying his reaction and actions. Was he ashamed, was he not proud of this accomplishment? Did she interfere too much? He wasn't really alluding to such, but it was difficult to figure out which -- as silent as he, as hard as it be, after all, to tap into his thoughts; he needed to speak, disclose his thoughts verbally. However, he was a silent-type, and who knew if Raewynne would ever find out his feelings on the skirmish between Colossus. While she could ask, did she feel it necessary? Maybe it was best to leave it alone.

The expressions of a clenched jaw left Wynne to wonder if he was displeased. The facial gesture was then followed by an incoherent and inaudible mutter that Wynne couldn't begin to understand or comprehend from her location. Eyes ever-so observant, they would briefly widen when she realized he aimed his sword back down at the defeated foe, only to soon sheath it. Blood splattered through the air, flung in the direction of force, but she found herself returning to look upon the mercenary. His fists would curl and uncurl before he walked over to a torch, collecting it within his grasp. She merely watched, returning the daggers to their holsters, adjusting the bow to settle comfortably onto her back. She was ready to leave, but didn't utter her thoughts; she wanted to see what Absi would do, wanted to hear when he himself was ready to leave -- he and Colossus did have history, after all.

The Descendant of Obscurity clutched the torch tightly within his hand and moved to the body that belonged to Colossus. He then moved to drag the torch along the frame of the dead body and muttered, "None will never know the man's truth strength." He shook his head and then rolled his shoulders in a slow circle. Afterwards, he moved to turn his back to the scene and looked over his shoulder to glance at his partner. She was welcome to follow him out, if she wished. After all, he wouldn't recommend staying here, for there was no telling what the torch would do when he simply dropped it onto the ground and moved to exit the way he came. Him taking the life of the man he once knew did not make him feel any greater. Again, he'd never know the true extent of his own powers, nor would he know where he stood in comparison to the man behind him. Perhaps one day, in the afterlife, he'd find out.

When he reached the outside, he looked up at the sky, just as rain began to pour along the dimensions of his face. After a few seconds, it came to a slow stop, which seemed to be the world's strange way of saying the battle had come to an end. He sighed softly and looked down. The action caused the water to pour from his face, as if he were shedding tears he did not want to release; tears he could not release. When time passed, he was curling his hands into fist, and then relaxed them. He looked around and spotted what bodies he could in the darkness. Today was hard work, but on the bright side, he had earned himself some coin. That was always good for business. Perhaps it was time to move on to bigger and better things now? Time to forget the past?

He rolled his shoulders forward, held his head high, and looked around the area. He, for the moment in time, was tired of death. He needed to rest, having worked up too much strength, and wasted too much energy. Not only that, but he managed to hurt his foot in the process. How clumsy. He shook his head and then awaited the presence of his 'partner' to see what she'd have to say or do now that the mission had been completed.

Absi's figure seemingly sauntered over to the corpse of Colossus, torch in hand. Quietly, she observed with those honey-hued oculars, curious as to his intention. While he uttered some sort words, Raewynne didn't follow; her cloaked cranium dipping down into a nod of agreement. Colossus was a worthy opponent and foe. Wynne predicted that she faced exhaustion and soreness tomorrow after their 'mission'. The gang had proved their worth -- while Absi and Wynne barely prevailed, the Bonehunters certainly were a match to be reckoned with; the two partners were ultimately lucky that they didn't face death this eve.

Wynne did perk up, in a sense, when Absi glanced in her direction -- as if to ask, "Are you coming?" She tip-toed against the debris and rubble of the collapsed ceiling, agile frame nearing the mercenary. Was he going to burn the corpse? He clearly made that his intention. "I suppose you don't want to collect his head as proof for ridding the world of Colossus?" She inquired softly, only to trail his figure as he exited the ruined infrastructure that was once the lair of the Bonehunters. She stayed at a short distance apart from the dark man, reticent as if to give him some space... it appeared that he needed to find some sort of closure. Or did he find it already? Wynne wasn't certain.

Some of the building wouldn't ignite because of the rain, but it was likely that Colossus would burn with any dry and untouched wood. Wynne made sure to keep the possibility of being caught in the flames at bay, moving to Absi's right side when he halted his steps. From her hood, her gaze surveyed his features, attention on his behavior. It rained for what seemed like a second as they surfaced from the building, finding it odd. Seriously? Was this a sign of some weird twist of fate? Wynne wasn't a hardcore believer of anything 'above', but the uncanny timing was strange, indeed. She placed her left hand upon the adjacent hip, weight shifting to one side as her maw opened, inaudibly muttering a "huh." With the cessation of rain from the heavens, the area gained some sort of clarity. It was essentially a nasty picture painted upon a dusky canvas: Wynne couldn't say for sure that she was proud of this doing, but sometimes dark things were necessary. Now that things had ended, closure hit the two. "Well, it seems business is concluded. Here is your pay." She dug into her pocket for the right amount of coin, slender digits grasped around the currency. Her left arm extended in his direction as she neared him for the transfer, clenched hand hovering. That appendage would drop the coin into his hand when he reached for it. "Thank you for your aid. I'd likely be dead without it. Don't feel discouraged or upset -- you did exceptionally well." Wynne did possess some concern for Absi. Awaiting his response, she wanted to see if his mind was in the right place and state of mind for dismissal.

The words, "I suppose you don't want to collect his head as proof for ridding the world of Colossus?" pooled from his partner's lips and he shook his head. "It doesn't matter if I take his head or not. No one would believe I was the one who killed him, would they? It, at the end of the day, would just be a rumor, one that will have no true answer. If I took his head, only you and I would know the truth behind the death of Colossus: he was too good to be killed in a fair battle." The man clenched his hands together and soon took on a tight fist before he relaxed and shrugged his shoulders. It could not be helped now. When the woman spoke again, he shifted his unique globes in her direction and then watched as she extended her hand, prepared to drop the coin into his grasp. For a moment, he hesitated.. He enjoyed earning coin, yes, but he didn't want to take it if he did not earn it. He sighed inwardly and then raised his right hand - digits extended in a relaxed form, which made them curl against the coin when it fell into his hand. He lifted his hand and then dropped it slightly before he put the coin away and then turned to glance away from her.

For the time being, he didn't respond to her. Perhaps he was making this harder on himself than he should have been, but who wouldn't? Who could say they honestly bestowed a proper death onto the man that was impregnable?  Sure, the Descendant of Obscurity delivered the final blow, but had it not been for his 'partner,' he would not have been able to stand at this moment in time. He didn't help her, in fact, he was more of a hazard to her during this ordeal, or so he thought. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight to his right foot before he reached his left hand up and brushed his slim, armored digits along the length of his chin. He said, finally, "Thank you for the pay. And it's no problem. I did not mind helping." He then paused as he remembered her saying she'd likely be dead without him. He didn't believe this. In fact, it was the other way around. Sure, he could take on the others around without too much effort, but he could not even get past the metal-like skin of Colossus. He tried again and again, but the most he had done was scratch the male's armor. She was the better warrior, to be honest. In two moves, she saved the Mercenary, and then made the mighty warrior dazed enough for the Mercenary to deliver the final strike. She was strong, yes, perhaps far superior to Absi. He finally shifted to stare completely at the woman before him - eyes cold and hard as he said, "I am not discouraged or upset. Thank you for your approval." He bowed his head to her and asked, "Do you need my services for anything else?" Perhaps his words were untrue, but that was fine. He knew well he needed to grow stronger; he needed to be better. If he wanted to stand on top, he'd have a lot of training to do. She showed him how weak he was; she showed him the truth. And now that the truth was present, he needed to accept it and move on so that he could grow from this.

So Absi had felt disgraced? Dishonored that he couldn't become victorious in a fair and noble fight against Colossus? Raewynne knew that some still possessed that old code of conduct, but for a woman in her line of work, sometimes things were never fair or just. Part of her didn't want Absi to get as injured as he had -- she felt it mandatory to intervene for his safety. And, like "agreed" upon, she gave him the final blow. It didn't matter what else transpired, right? So long as he got the final blow, that was ultimately what the two settled upon. Absi was letting his dignity and honor get in the way of their success! "Do not be so hard on yourself, Descendant of Obscurity. You fought bravely and well. You'll grow strong from this. And, I'll be requesting your services in the future, as I have before," She retracted her hand if she hadn't already, coin reluctantly accepted by the mercenary at first -- and that was truly shocking.

His words were hardly solidified with his gestures, but she wouldn't dig further into his issue with their mission. Absi asked if she required his services for anything else and she shook her head, something that might not have been perceived well with the hood around her visage. "Not at the moment, no." She began to back away from the man, but not without an encouraging message. "You will find your path, Mane of Chaos. If you ever need help, ask for Wynne Fletcher." Rae pointed to herself, declaring her fake name. "Though, a word of advice -- don't take on a job targeting high authority figures. Might get you killed." She stood there for a moment, wondering if he'd heed her words. Or if he'd even make the connection that she respected him enough and trusted him enough to give out her false name -- it wasn't her real name, but certainly in the right course to gaining a friendship.

The Descendant of Obscurity shifted his footing beneath his person while she silently sized him up. He drew in a deep breath of air, and then looked around at their handy work. He then listened to her when she spoke to him, and knew she was correct, but he could not shake the feeling that washed over his person. He knew well what had happened, and where his skill stood. But the fact that he could not stand against a mighty foe on his own was what discouraged him. He didn't care if she interfered. It was agreed at the beginning of the assignment; however, he was more than certain he had the prowess to stand on top of any who crossed his path. After all, he was born to fight, born to kill. If his parents saw him now, they would be discouraged. He shook his head and then sighed softly. Moments after, he clenched his jaws against one another and finally relaxed his stance. When he pulled back, he turned his back to her and looked in the direction he had come. He knew all of the dead bodies that laid on that direction, and the few people who spoke to him. He began to remember those who asked him why he had been here, and then the one who provided a challenge for him. Oh, how he lost so many he could have become brother-in-arms with. He turned and glanced over his shoulder to look at the woman who hired him. It was clear, in this moment, that he choose her over the Bonehunters. Why? That was  question he could not answer. He shook his head and then shrugged.

As this moment in time, the woman was backing away from him and spoke again, but he did not respond, at least not at the moment, for he had been pooling his words together in order to deliver her a truth and honest answer or response, not that he needed one. She then gave him her name and a warning, which he shrugged too in response. At this moment, he did not turn back to look at her. In truth, he couldn't. Even though she did not see what he did, he felt truly ashamed, and decided it would be best to keep it deep within himself or else it would haunt him forever. The way the male's eyes shifted when he died and the wound he left on the male's body. He should have taken the head, but he didn't deserve it, nor would anyone, who did not see the head, believe he was the one. Rumors were often best left as a rumor. If anyone came to see his skills, he would put them down. He then said, finally, "An interesting name you have." Part of him wanted to repeat the name, but he could not get it to roll off his tongue. In fact, it lingered on the tip, and he decided now was not the best time for him to repeat the name Wynne Fletcher. One day, though... one day would come.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder for another moment. "Don't be hard on myself? If I do not push myself beyond the limits I have, I'll never be better. In order to achieve, I must work harder and better myself." Perhaps that had not been the path he wished to take, but it was too late to take it back now. He curled his left digits into a fist - a fist so tight the groan of his armored hand could be heard moving in protest. He then said, "Then I shall wait and we'll meet again in the future." As for him finding his path, he believed he had already done that. He had a single guide to take him through life. And if anything, he was nothing more than a trained killer. That's what his family was, or so he believed. He then said, in response to her warning, "I suppose we'll have to see what I'm capable of doing. The next time you and I meet, I will be stronger." He slowly began to grind his teeth against one another before he cocked his head to the right and then eventually turned his gaze forward and away from her. He was an honorable man, and she gave him her name. In turn, he believed he should give his own, and said, "A name is naught but a title bestowed onto those at birth.  But, since you've given me yours, I shall give you mine; however, I request you keep it to yourself. I like being known by my chosen names, and you'll be one of the few outside of my home to know that I was gifted the name Absi." He paused and smiled. Keeping his identity was no secret. It wasn't a keep it or die thing, but only those he deemed worthy would know the name Absi. After all, he was not ashamed of who he was. He just wanted his family to hear stories of a man that was not known by the name they had given him.. Then, whenever they were to cross paths again, he could surprise them or shock them. A dream that was worth nothing, but he did promise them he could make it on his own.

How easy it had become to shrug her alias about, to flail it like it was her own skin. She shrugged in response to the man, words merely, "You don't exactly pick your real name, I suppose," Instinctively, she hoped this message somehow solidified her name into Absi's memory -- her secret identity needed to be kept hidden from the world; she hoped this statement would quell any suspicion... but when did she ever give him doubt or something to question? There was never a betrayal of any sorts when she involved Absi; that was mere truth.

The distance between the two grew larger, but Absi did have a good reason to be hard on himself -- of course, Wynne knew that if anyone was self-critical in a positive way, then that was all that mattered. He promoted self-growth in skill and abilities by more experience, she supposed -- there was nothing wrong with that. When things got abusive toward someone and himself, then that sparked a problem. From what she could discern, Absi was handling this pretty well. She could provide some encouragement. "You'll get there, surely. In due time." As he responded and spoke, she could feel the spark of his motivated flame; she incited a challenge for the mercenary, something she was pleased to do if it ultimately meant obtaining a higher power for the man. Not that she had any obligation for the male, but she did feel some sort of friendship was blooming between the two -- or a stronger partnership. An exchange of names only hardened that belief. "I'm not fond of divulging information -- so your name is safe with me." She paused for a moment, whispering as her honey-irises caught the smile upon his dark visage. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Absi." Crossing her arms, the rain having ceased, she gazed around at the dusky surrounding, a plume of smoke coming from the main building. It added to the darkness, ultimately. She didn't know how much longer they could afford to stand in the ruin, but she waited until it was time of dismissal, more or less.

The Descendant of Obscurity tilted his head as she made a comment on not being able to pick one's own name. To this, he responded, "That is true, but you can always choose what you go by." Of course, Absi was not hinting at anything, but stating the facts. It was as if he putting some form of emphasis. After all, he said it was something given to someone at birth, and that was all it was to that. When she said it was a pleasure to make his acquaintance, he bowed his head and placed his right hand across his chest so that the palm of his hand was pressed to his left breast and his elbow was pressed against his side. "The pleasure belongs to me." With that, he pulled back and then put a bit more distance between himself and the woman. Afterwards, he said, "If this is the end, I suppose we shall go our separate ways?"

In honesty, the man wasn't sure how to end the situation. They had given their names, which could lead to something more in the future, but he didn't know. Perhaps it was the conclusion of their business? Only time would tell, sure, but he knew one thing would happen by the their next meeting: he would be far stronger than he was at this point in time. He gave himself a mental nod and then watched her to see what she would do next.

He did make a valid point about names -- you can call yourself what you'd like to be called; to this, she valued, considering her own fake alias and title that she took upon. She remained quiet though, but nodded softly; whether or not that was picked up with her hood, she didn't know. Raewynne did, however, regard him highly when he bowed respectfully. It was formal, in a way; almost made her wonder if he belonged to a noble house? It was possible, but why would he become a mercenary?

He, too, began to depart, furthering the gap between the two. He asked if it was time that they part ways, to which she muttered, "It would seem so -- Do take care, Absi." With a gentle wave of dismissal with her hand, Wynne found motion again; but this time, it wouldn't cease. She did mutter before she'd make her exit. "Until next time." And then she was off, merging with shadow, never to be seen again for the remaining duration of that night. If they'd uptake another mission, only time would tell; but for now, their mission was over. So long as nothing stopped her or interrupted her gait, Wynne was on trek toward her camp.

[Exit]

To think the two had made it this far... Surly nothing that stood before the both of them would stop them. Colossus was a monster, and even though he couldn't stand the fact the man had died the way he did, he accepted the fact that the both of them took down the man that was a beast. He rolled his shoulder back while he took in a deep breath of air, straightened his head. Only then did he stare at the sky while the strands of white-blonde descended along the length of his shoulders until a quick gust of wind danced along and sent the strands scattered through air in the form of a mane. He closed his eyes for a moment and smiled softly to himself. He had to get stronger. Nothing would stop him now. Nothing. He would become the best. He turned his gaze forward and moved towards the exit. He had some training to do.

[exit]

Rewards Allocated as follows:
Rae - 29 +3
Absi - 29 +4

Points awarded overall for effort and content.