The End of the Warpath [PK]

[Ztrog 1031]

The End of the Warpath

 

The Terror of the West of Arcas, The Blackguard of the North, The Torchfield, Roman had been called many names over his many years of life, all filled with hardship and blood, so much blood. Within the cursed forest of Aevos, the warmonger had found himself.

 

He gazed upon a hulking figure of cobbled stone, shaping an all too familiar figure that looked like a visage he had not seen in several decades. A looming statue of dripping waters, looking like that of the armor of the much defunct Vira’ker. “How I hate seeing old enemies of my past.” It rumbles out, a long blade of cobbled stone, blunted edges being pulled from its form. “It’s been a long time, Roman.”

 

The large armored man stares ahead, the gears in his head turning before a realization comes to him, a wicked grin coming beneath that dark helm. “Xavis Ashwood, now I know I’m the better man. While I aged you have died becoming this, how it must wound you.” He taunts, drawing forth his dreadful weapon from his hip, the Wartorch. With some twists and turns flames would ignite alcohol-soaked cloth, flames roaring at the head. 

 

“You always overestimated yourself, Roman, always thought yourself the strongest.” The Eidola counters on its march forward a hefty swing of its blade slashes forth. Roman would pivot to the side, his flaming mace arcs forth in the air, striking at the arm of being, chipping and causing mild cracks. 

 

Upon missing the first of his blows, Irlioz, the stone abomination, arcs his blade of stone in a backswing to Roman’s legs. Despite this, The Torchfield swings his mace upwards, meeting the stone chin of the being, crunching and breaking away the stone. The looming stone blade however impacts, sending out his legs from underneath him. 

 

“You’re slow in your age, you are WEAK!” The pale knight would bellow out, turning down the blade to attempt and plunge it towards his right arm. The aged warrior rolls out of the way, flinging up his Wartorch to use the cinders as a way to aid in his recovery from the ground. 

 

The tense battle between the two would go on, Roman using what little dexterity he had over the stone warrior in his old age. But it had been clear since the beginning that Roman was not going to win this fight, and he knew that. The blade easily smashed his shield into splints in one move, where Roman struck true once more causing great cracks in the stoneborn arm. Water was now pooling out of Irlioz like gouts of blood. 

 

The warmonger’s strength was draining, his breathing growing ragged and heavy as the battle waged on. As Irlioz caught that Wartorch in his last attack he would stumble back, falling down as his breathing was now labored, his damaged bones and age caught up to him after all these years. 

 

Irlioz approaches the warrior who was now propped up against a boulder, his helmet discarded, his weather-aged face on full display. “You were never going to win..” A tinge of sympathy was in the Pale Knight's voice. “Did you know?” He paused looming over Roman. 

 

“Of course I knew Xavis.” Roman let out a hoarse laugh as he sat there. “I knew it from the beginning, but if anyone were to finally strike me down it would have to be Xavis Ashwood.” A fierce grin still on his face. “A battle to finally put an end to Roman Torchfield.” 

 

Then will a somber feeling in the air between the two the Eidola would approach furth where the man was sat, the finality of the situation now brought forth; 

 

 

OOC NOTE

 

Spoiler

I had Roman since 2019 in Arcas. He was one of the earlier characters I played who dealt with pure villainy. He was my first taste in such bar Mirrak (if you know you know) but he served to help many people who wanted character development or a personal villain. It was by the time he had finally met his end with one of the first enemies he had made on this server. I wanna thank people like @Meteor__Dragon and @Hemomancy for all the fun rp with him over the years and for whatever is to come in the future. Be it he stays an infamous legend among few or if he strikes back as a phantom. Thank you all for everything with him! <3

 

[hemomancy 2851]

From the beyond, a mother-daughter pair watches, praying to not come into contact again with the one who tormented them. Whilst the third generation still lingers; A scream of terror leaving Cresence upon finding the dark-plated helmet of the slain man left on her doorstep.