Every great tale begins with a single word...

[Kit]

((OOC: Invite only.))

Dandalas.

Night.

The only source of illumination is momentary, as great bolts of lightning cleave the air and smash into the ground. The rain comes down in sheets, absolutely drenching anything that exposes itself for but a moment.

It takes a strong will to not run for cover instantly. It takes a stronger will to wait, just as a solitary figure was.

Highlighted against the dark skies by the terrifyingly huge bolts of electricity, the outline is similar to a knight from the old, long forgotten times. Except the steed is wrong.

Astride a hilltop, the figure looks down upon a ruined village. His nemesis had been here, not long ago. You could tell, because the place was still aflame, despite the downpour being biblical in it's proportions.

Hitting himself in the face with his palm, primarily out of disdain, he sighs, though it is inaudible over the gigantic storm. Resolving to catch the one that had effectively annihilated the quiet little village, no doubt in the name of "Justice!!", he gently kicked the sides of his steed.

The bipedal, armoured creature uttered a quiet, yet obviously offended, "Kweh" and started off at a gentle trot.

Sir Bertrand de Ridefort would find his nemesis, he always did. It was just a matter of time.

 

[Will]

''Noble peasants! i leave you now to deliver JUSTICE in another place! fare thee Well!''

Sir Bartleby Von Poppleopacus leapt upon his steed, Bartholemew, and rode away. The burning village behind him, the mauled or deceased populace standing, mute, just pleased the man had left. Now, they could get to rebuilding.

Sir Bartleby cantered along, surprised he had not met his nemesis in the recent battle for justice... he wondered where he was now...

 

[Kit]

((OOC: I want you to know, I consider this a win of epic proportions. I'll give you food to make up for it?))

As his steed trotted down the hillside, Bertrand noticed a glint in the corner of his eye. His head whipped around to face the shining object, but it was already gone, the lightning that had illuminated it having disappeared already.

He couldn't be sure what it was, but in his gut, he already knew exactly what it was.

Guiding Longuinius, his noble and faithful steed, to the right, he reached behind him, and loosed his weapons within their sheaths. If his instinct was right...

Another flash of lightning broke his reverie. It was almost directly ahead, so was unbearably loud, and forced the battle hardened man to involuntarily flinch. But, the brief glimpse he got was all he required.

It was Sir Bertleby Von Poppleopacus.

His oldest, most powerful, and arguably most insane foe. He quickly applied pressure to Longuinius' sides, causing the bipedal, chickenlike creature to speed up, to loping canter.

At the same time, he readied his lance, placing the hilt in the special stirrup. He had the chance to destroy his arch-foe, as he would never hear him over this storm, but his honour (what little was left) demanded a frontal confrontation.

Longuinius closed the gap between the two knights, it's long legs covering the distance nearly as fast as a speeder could.

Bertrand attempted to yell over the storm, though he doubted the other Knight could make out the words, he would not fail to recognize the voice.

HALT! I DEMAND THAT YOU TURN AND FACE ME, YOU CUR!

 

[Will]

Sir Bartleby turned, his wide grin hidden by the silk covering his lower face when he realised whom he would face. ''At last! We meet again, my arch foe! Nemesis of JUSTICE!!!!!!'' He drew his vibrolance, turning Bartholemew around, his steed uttering a mighty KWEH!!!! to the night sky. He turned to face, and charged, the lance held forward, rady to knock his foe from the saddle of his puny steed, which couldn't hold a candle to his beautiful Bartholemew...

 

[Kit]

Bertrand couldn't help but grin, beneath his helmet. As much as the man was mad, or indeed oddly hypocritical (slaughtering innocents in the name of justice), he was an excellent fighter, and there was little that Sir Bertrand de Ridefort enjoyed more than a good fight.

Kicking Longuinius, to urge it on, the black plumed bird issued it's own war cry, a mighty "KWEH!" along with Bertrand's feral roar, both of which were drowned out by the crash of a lightning bolt that had impacted a tree nearby.

Bertrand lowered his own Lance, a simple solid metal one nowhere near as advanced or expensive as his opponents, but not much worse, and Longuinius galloped towards his foe.

If prior experience was anything to go by, the pair would both be dismounted, but not injured. That was how most of their fights tended to go, until one or the other retreated.

 

[Will]

Sir Bartleby roared. ''JUUUUUSSSSTIIIICCCCEEE!!!!!!'', as his lance hit his foe, Bertrand. He laughed as he saw his foe fall from his steed, before realising he too was falling, hitting the mud. He scrambled up, drawing his blade.

 

[Kit]

As Sir Bertrand fell, Longuinius was already gone, it was an intelligent creature, and knew that being close to these two was not a smart move. It turned to watch it's master when it had reached a safe distance.

Meanwhile, Bertrand was already back on his feet, though his chest hurt like hell. It was going to be yet another impressive bruise. It seemed that those were the only kind he ever got. Well, those and the serious debilitating ones...

His hand shot up over his left shoulder, and he drew his bastard blade, taking it in a double handed grip. Holding the long sword down and to his right, he charged once more at his foe, the mud slowing his pace.

He yelled wordlessly, as his blade arced up, and down, aiming to cleave Sir Bartleby right down the middle. It was a risky move, but the mud would make Bartleby slow to respond, and likely to slip if he simply attempted to block.

 

[Will]

Sir Bartleby drew from his impressive strength, stopping the blade with his own. He threw Bertrand away, charging with his own blade, slicing horizontally, screaming wordless babble. He would defeat his foe here and now, even if his arm was broken...

 

[Kit]

((OOC: High five for the first story of the new timeline!!))

Using the momentum from the push, Sir Bertrand threw himself to the ground, just in time to see Bartleby's blade slice through the air where he was just a moment ago.

Seizing the initiative, he swung out a single leg, hoping to knock Bartleby down, or at least stun him long enough to recover himself. Rolling over himself, he pushed himself to he face, and spun to face his foe, who was no doubt already attacking again, after all, it's not easy to climb out of mud in a full suit of armour...

 

[Will]

Bartleby fell, and struggled up, looking at his fine cape. ''I shalt have to launder this! you ROGUE!!'' He screamed, charging swordfirst for the filthy cur obstructing JUSTICE!!!!!!

 

[Kit]

Bertrand didn't even have time to come up with a vaguely witty reply before Bartleby charged at him.

Bringing his sword up in a flash, he caught the other Knight's blade, and stepped to the left, whilst pushing outwards with his own sword. Bartleby should keep going past, if the move worked.

Bertrand stepped into the space Bartleby had just rushed through, and swung his sword in a massive horizontal arc, aimed at the upper thigh region. It was entirely possible Bartleby would have moved beyond his range, but he would have been a fool not to try something...

 

[Will]

Sir Bartleby felt his mighty mass continue him forth, unfortunately into a cliff face. He let out a mighty, JUSTICE!!!! filled ''OOMPH!'' as he hit the wall, but quikly turned. A mere rock was not going to stop him! he charged again, roaring.

 

[Kit]

And there it was.

Bertrand knew it was coming, it invariably did. The madness, that plagued this twisted relationship of theirs.

He thrust his Bastard Blade forwards, catching Bartleby's own sword, before sliding the razor sharp edges down to the hilts, locking the swords in place.

The insanity, those tiny little events, that turned what should have been a viscous fight, into something laughable. To outsiders.

Pushing on his blade, he could not gain the upper hand. The two were too closely matched.

He growled at his enemy,

Yield, and I will grant you a fair trial. Yield, damn your hide. YIELD!

He kicked out, aiming for the back of Sir Bartleby's knee, and wrenched his sword out of the lock. Hopefully, Bartleby would go down.

In his heart, Bertrand knew that somethign else would happen, and the fight would drag on. Neither of them ever won.

Ever.

 

[Will]

Sir Bartleby smiled. He had the fool now. He pushed down, and dodged the puny kick, it just clipping his armour. ''Fool! I shall give YOU a fair trial if you yield. In the name of JUSTICE!!!! YIELD!!!!!!'' He continued to push.

 

[Kit]

A growl began to tise in Bertrands throat, emanating from deep inside him. His rage welled up, and the growl grew louder and louder. As the bestial noise he was making grew in volume, he pushed harder and harder with his blade against Bartleby's.

His growl grew to a roar, and as it reached it's crescendo, he gave an almighty push, forcing the two apart.

He took a step back, from the sheer force of his push, and he saw Bartleby do the same.

Breathing heavily, Bertrand could feel his age catching up with him. Ten years ago, this fight would still be raging just like it had been not minutes ago.

I'm getting too old for this...

He sighed, and hefted his weapon, before rushing forwards, and spinning slightly, to add even more force to an already powerful horizontal slice. It wouldn't be easy to block, but he knew Sir Bartleby would find a way...

 

[Will]

Sir Bartleby laughed as he saw his enemy tiring. The power of JUSTICE!!!! kept Sir Bartleby going, or so he thought, as he suddenly felt gravity pull on him, and take a deep pant. He drew himself up, and swung his blade back to the knave's blade, blocking it, and entering bladelock again. ''Your evil ways stop NOW!!!! in the name of JUSTICE!!!!!!''