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The Symphony of the Night

Sarah Tintagyl

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[url="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zJQtWCVHWc0"]The Date with Destiny[/url]

In this world there exist two forces, in religion many know them as dark and light, in philosophy people regard them as order and chaos, still deeper in science they are known as the understood and the strange. These forces as strange as they are have always danced a strange waltz together through eternity, because indeed without light, there can be no dark, and without chaos, there can be no order. Forever and ever these two beings twist and turn through the void that is known as life and death and for some strange reason never seeming to change and yet what if they were to change? What if order was to become chaos, what if what people considered evil and malicious was actually the shining light at the end of the tunnel, what if the being that a world had pledged to fight against was actually the only thing separating the world from descending into eternal darkness? Worse yet, what if the being that a world had pledged loyalty too, had thrown all their hope behind wore nothing but a face of chaos, death, and destruction? Neither of those stories make much sense to a naive human mind, but furthermore, take all light out from the candles and walk through the stone corridors of death and decay without that light, it is a frightening experience indeed. A world that has no sense of light, no sense of dark, where does one turn? It was that puzzle that had arrived on an old man's desk early on a bright morning in the beginning of May when outside on the rolling hills of Northern Germany, the birds were chirping and the sun enveloped the earth with a warm embrace. How could he ever forget that hand writing that ran down at piece of parchment as though it was dripped in blood. It had been the writing of a woman that he had given all of his energy into transforming into one of the great figures of the day, he had given her strength, power, and what had she done with it? She had crushed it in her rotting fingers. Everything he had understood was taken away from him in her ghoulish hordes that crossed the plains of Western Russia. That had been many years ago...

It was a different time now, the ages of Martens and Tintagyl had since passed, their names ushered in the wind in reverence at a bygone era, when the world stood on the brink of war and there was a clear definition of what was war and what was peace. They stood on the brink of a war that could easily end the world as humanity understood it and then everything had collapsed. But why would she continue to haunt him? Hadn't she already done enough damage? What more havoc was their to wreak. It had been an invitation, the black ink running down the paper, told the elderly German gentleman and warrior of ball, being hosted in his honor at the Chateau du Pompadour in France, hosted by a mysterious aristocrat known as the Countess de Saint Germain. Everything had been arranged, plane tickets, even a carriage ride that would take him from the airport in Bordeaux across the French countryside towards the Chateau that stood outside of Limoges, all he had to do was show up.

The journey would be like nothing Martens had ever seen before in his long life and everything that occurred from the time he had left the airport in Berlin seemed to be under the watchful eye of the Countess herself. The stewards on the plane went out of their way to make sure he was comfortable, a greeting party had been assembled at the airport to guide him to the black carriage that would take him the hundred miles or more to the outskirts of Limoges. Though perhaps upon reaching the carriage he would notice the first signs of a more macabre lifestyle seeping in. The driver never once showed his face and the black horses that drove the German down the open roads of France beat on without stopping as if controlled by an almost unnatural force. Besides the fact that as they came closer and closer to Limoges, the sky began to darken as the blue skies changed to a pale shade of gray, then grew darker as time went on. By the time they had reached the groves of forest nearing the Chateau, the sun had completely faded from the sky and a bright moon shown down through partings in the black clouds above. Rolling thunder echoed in the background as they finally came to the black iron gates that allowed entry into the Chateau. Those gates surrounded by blackened ivy, creaked open when he would get out of the carriage, as the driver turned back to him.

"Welcome to Chateau du Pompadour, Monsieur Martens, you are expected inside." The voice was frighteningly monotone and no eyes gazed out from within the coat before the driver turned back and whipped the horses back down the road.

[url="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpnKfaAhnnE"]The Waltz of Chateau du Pompadour[/url]

A strange music came from within the Castle, a waltz of some sort and the only way to head from this point was forward amongst an empty courtyard of tortured ferns, shrubs, and trees. It was a harsh wind that blew through those trees and the fountains that surrounded the courtyard trickled out water into their marble bowls below. His boots would echo across the marble walkway as the music began to grow louder and louder, when suddenly the doors at the end of the hall opened up and the two figures appeared. One a young man with brown hair and a flamboyant smile, while the other, a young woman with cascading blonde hair that ran down her back and piercing blue eyes hidden behind a masquerade mask. She smiled and bowed towards the German as she walked down the staircase towards him and finally took off her mask. Finally after so many years, the face of Sarah Tintagyl and the face of Michael Martens met each other in destiny once again. "Michael, so happy to see that you have joined us, we have a lot to talk about you and I, you know that? About what has happened over the years since we last spoke, a witch and a warrior bravely staring at each other on the field of battle and I would like to come to a mutual understanding if you catch my tone." She smiled and offered him a hand. "Shall we talk inside though? I hate standing out in the cold, it does nothing for my complexion."

And indeed there was something strange about her since they had last met even those many years ago. Her skin was deathly pale and her eyes a horrible blue. Something...something unnatural was going on...

OOC: Martens and Sarah, closed.

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In the snow.

Martens was resting in the one of the coldest corners of Nordland. He had been resting for several months now. Martens had built himself a home. A home with no windows, a home with no doors. A large, hollow block of ice somewhere in the most hostile regions of Iceland. Built by his own hand out of smaller blocks. He had remained there for several winters, and inside, handcrafted, rested an ice coffin. Resting without sleeping, he laid down, listening to the wind, listening to the vibrations of the soil beneath him. It was perfect cold, perfect stillness.

One fine day, his comms device is activated. He sees an image of the invitation, and then the text, after wiping some ice from the device proper. It was quite resilient, as he himself was...in a way. Red eyes are now open, and when he tucks the device back into a pocket, he stares upwards against the icey, dark reality above and around him. It takes him a long time to decide what to do, but when he gets up, he must make an effort in order to be able to crack and break away the ice around him, in his prison. He sits up and then light happens: Very dim lighting integrated onto the coffin. This reveals complicated runic inscriptions all over the walls, including bindrunes and secret runes not known by any others, the true runes of Odin. He stands up as the ice keeps cracking, as if he were a rusted robot, and steps out. Then he kneels down and breathes in the cold air.

He begins,

[i]"Eiris sazun idisi. Sazun hera duoder.
Suma hapt haptidun. Suma heri lezidun..."[/i]

The eyes close again,

"Suma clubodun. Umbi cuoniouuidi"

He breathes out.

"Insprinc haptbandun. Inuar uigandun."

He would remain like this for several hours. At last, he takes out his sword, and after holding it with reverence he uses it to stab through the ice wall. He pulls the sword out and stands up as the wall collapses. Next he must crawl out through the hole and then upwards, having been buried by unexpected snow. Kaiser Martens returns to the world. But he does not seem the same anymore. He seems far colder, far more cynical, farther away from the average human, as if detached from the everyman reality: He was an anachronism, and although he still looked formidably strong, perhaps stronger than ever physically, his spirit was not the same, as if a man perpetually in post-traumatic stress, with the "long stare". He walks to the Haven.


"...I could smell you from Amsterdam. You have changed..." He salutes respectfully as he had always done in the German-Nordlandic fashion, adds a nod and removes his cap as he begins to head inside. As he looks at her, for a split second, he almost seemed to be human once more.

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"Yes, well, everyone changes eventually." She said linking his arm to her own. "Though I must say the change was particularly pleasant and not that hurtful at all. Nothing that you wouldn't remember from Niflheim when you made me this way and I have to at least honor my creator or perhaps the person responsible for my evolution." Slowly she lead him towards the grand hallway of the large castle through the entrance doors. Here there was a great corridor with a red carpet set on black marble, while pictures of philosophers, artists, musicians, and politicians lined the walls, along with between each picture, about five feet apart stood a suit of armor carrying a large metal spear in their armored hands. "So what do you think of my new home Michael? A bit more spacious than Solidor Manor don't you think? I like it, it gives me room to think." Her black dress skirted the red carpet and her heels clicked through the thin cloth onto the marble floor below.

"But now, because I don't want to keep you from our party, I came to make you an offer Martens." She turned around and grabbed onto his hands tightly and looked into his pupils with her sapphire irises, rubbing her fingers across the top of his cold hands. "The world, the world is changing. You can see that, I can see that and yet even though our names are passing into the fade, we are still the strength of this world. Light and Dark, Order and Chaos, all that jazz and other things people tell themselves so that they can sleep easy at night. But to be honest my dear Michael, I'm sick of it." She smiled wide and tilted her head a bit to the side as her eyes narrowed. "Instead, I have a vision that is controlled by people like you and I. We control order, chaos, stability and warfare. Humans...Michael, I should have never entered politics, I've become too cynical. I look at the world around me and I'm disgusted of it. Men fight over petty squabbles, you and I fought over petty things, empires and kingdoms, who owns what land? We're better than that, you and I and we have the chance to remake the world and refashion it from those squabbles."

Letting go of his hands, Sarah drifted backward for a moment, the smile still glued to her face. "I've already talked to countless other people who have already pledged their loyalty to this cause, but I feel that you and I have a few more bridges to cross and I would like to cross those bridges. So tell me Michael, what do you say." She extended her hand forward. "Friends as we used to be?"

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He was very, very different indeed from the last time she had seen him. Had he changed, or was it just another side of him? What is she doing? He feels awkward, even confused as the arms linked and he moves forwards, keeping his column completely straight, a soldier ever at attention. He stares forwards for some time, looks at her occationally and does not answer at first, the face showing such little emotion that she may well wonder if he had at last become completely in-human. Although he kept listening to her, something caught his attention...he sniffed the air. Something was quite different, same as with her eyes. What had happened?

He pays close attention, to her speech, manner of articulation, choice of words, and then her image, as if trying to decipher her somehow by staring and listening intensely, curiously. When his hands were taken, which in fact felt warm due to the fact that both of their hands were cold to begin with, he looks into her eyes, as if trying to find a secret answer within them. But he did not yet know the question. He breathes calmly, and for some reason, he feels that the situation here is critical, very relevant for himself and all the Nordlanders. He speaks at last...

"You had always been sick of it. That is why we first ended on the same side...you were sick of it..."

He continues to look into her eyes, but sometimes to her hands, and for split seconds, he'd seem, perhaps, hurt? For very brief lapses of time, only for her or a machine to see, some emotion did seem to happen. Then, many more things sprung up on his head, things which needed to be said. But he still wanted to know more. He had to hold back. He takes her hand again later and with his usual mind makes instead a simpler reply: "Your proposal...is too vague. I do not understand it. You must be more concrete, or specific. Otherwise your effort seems as if vain poetry." He did not mean to sound offensive, but in the end, he realized that it did not sound as polite as he would have (consciously) wished.

Before she can answer, he raises her hand slowly towards his face, as if he were to kiss it. But he does not. He breathes in to catch her scent...further proof that something had happened...there was...something else...something else there, other than the serum and the remains of the human condition. He narrows his eyes suspiciously. The hands more back to their previous positions. He remains skeptical.

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Turning her head down towards the ground the closed her eyes and clenched her fists. "I sinned so that I could have my revenge. Everyone else was entitled to revenge at some point in their lives and I paid dearly for it every time. The first I tried to help Manneling, I tried to save Gebiv, what happened? My homeland was taken away from me by a madman, not justification, just stripped from me and yet I was supposed to remain the behaved little girl, the virgin of Europe." The Countess smirked. "What a name, the virgin, now I am the Harlot, or the Witch, or the Demoness, depending on where you go in the world. Sure there are still those that speak my name with reverence, just as they speak your own. But I did what I did because it needed to be done. I had my revenge and yet once again I paid with my people's lives. Do you know how many nights I spent crying? Even my best friend betrayed me after that. I have paid my dues many times over." There had been hints of rising anger in her voice, but she kept them under control during the statement before relaxing and letting Martens take her arm, which she presumed he would kiss, but instead took in her scent. He was a bright, this one, very bright, but she knew that and for someone like the old Kaiser, the former Lady Protector made sure to stay on her guard. "Smell something you like Monsieur?" She smirked and pulled her hand away.

"As to my proposal. My apologies that it is vague, what I am telling you my dear Michael is the creation of an organization of people dedicated to the to creation of a new world. New governments and a new respect for human life, even if sacrifices to achieve this world have to me made first. Some might call this radical, but after watching the world for some time, humans only fight because they are jealous of each other, they want power, constant power. But if you strip their power away and you make it so that they are powerless, if you end the war of all against all in the state of nature, you have a world, even as populated as ours is. Well behaved. No more hegemons, no more dictators, no more genocide, no more killing. Make man afraid to commit murder, to commit evil, make them know that evil will only cause more killing and suffering. I plan to make those who have hurt the innocent suffer, like they have never suffered before."

"Also." Sarah drew back, almost looking insulted. "Poetry vain? My my, how are you thinking Michael? Poetry is supposed to be a mystery to be figured out after all. Otherwise, its just prose. Let your mind flower that is the true artist." Her eyes brightened as she clenched her fists in excitement, her body swinging forward, her delicate, yet strong arms waltzing through the air towards him. "That's it! The world is an easel and I want to erase the ruin and paint a new picture. Help me pain the picture Michael, I know you are an artist of man deep down. After all, look at what you have done to me." She smiled mischievously crossed her hands.

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For once, he half-smiles as she goes on talking. When the hand is gone, he folds his arms behind his back, and he now stands very still, even careful not to breathe too much. What she said was...no, instead of thinking to himself, he spoke out:

"What you say is interesting. But we will always be the bad guys. We will aways be incompatible. For we have our enemy goal and target just north of us. And for this, it is needed to kill. It is needed to do something which most would consider injustified. The completion of our plans inherently involves that one war, the last war...I would like to be in this. But I cannot say that I want peace without lying...I can only be realistic."

He shakes his head and steps back once, the half smile dissappears.

"But I am not an artist...only a monster. My act of, if we will say, creating you was selfish: An act to obtain company forever. Perhaps in that sense it is fair that it did not come to be, a type of punishment...I have no choice...my fate is sealed..." He looks down and sighs before his eyes narrow again.

"You are acting. You do not feel what you say. I can tell, for you do not remember my name. This shows that in the end I am but a pawn. Or maybe a bishop to be fair, in a chess in which the queen and not the king wishes to rule. I refuse to a new hegemony. We won't side with the West, we won't side with the East, only with ourselves. Be well."

He tries to walk around her, and intends on simply walking out, the air having become tense.

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"No!" Sarah stuck her hand out and immediately the doors in front of him shut. "If you're really going to worry about a damn 'a' in your name, perhaps I was wrong to see just how mind numbing this can be. This is my dream Martens, not some hegemonic rule so I can sit on a throne and is that all I was? When you took me in Niflheim? Nothing but a nice ornament to wear around your finger, a pretty little thing that you could show off until the end of time? Is that it?" If the air had been tense before, it was explosive now as even the suits of armor against the wall began to rattle. "A creator should know that giving life is not something to be taken lightly and I am not about to let you insult me like that Michel..."

"There is no West...there is no East, there is only what is right now and what could be in the future if you decide to help me. Though it would appear to me that you are already making up your mind. The two people that the Heavens chose to walk this Earth eternally cannot even help one another out? Is that it Michel? Are we supposed to be the two powers to bounce off of each other until the end of time? Is that what you're telling me?" Her voice growing more powerful with each word.

"You...you think I'm a liar...you don't think I'm any better then the lies spread about me. You think I'm in this to control? I'm in this to rebuild because I'm sick! Because I'm tired of everything I see around me. So what is it Michel are we eternally different? Or are we one in the same?" The suits continued to rattle as Sarah's hand stayed threateningly in front of her face.

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He frowns while she seems angry, and appears to have calmed down. He looks down and hears the armors, he stands still, and she is still in front of her, for she had been fast and him slow. He smiles again, trying to hold back from laughing, although he does not understand why: Why he would hold back and also why he would even laugh to begin with. His head shakes several times. He did not know why he had spoken to hurt her, but he knew that what he had said had not been truthful.

He remains silent, because he cannot yet come to terms with the truth. It takes him some time to speak.

"There was more to your conversion than that...you did not understand my dream. My dream was to have someone to share it...but now, I do not longer understand what I feel. The only thing that I know for sure is that I did not do enough. I should have been more clear...I should have been...should have never compromised..."

Another period of silence follows. He tries hard to regain his energy and his usual self. He had felt himself weakening psychologically, but he could not allow this. He unfolds his arms and places his hands on his face, then moving them backwards across his head to get his hair out of the way.

"You destroyed what I had created. But that is fine. It was war...and we picked different sides. But as far as I am concerned, I will never surrender, in spite of the odds. I have had enough of this. You will open the door. You claim not to wish to control, but, already, you wish to influence my decision and control me so that I may not leave. Yet you do so in the bluntest of ways, unable to see...to see anything."

He begins to change his mind...

"...But perhaps I can do the world a favor...perhaps it is my responsability to...destroy what I have created...I have been unfaithful to Germania...perhaps it should now end, before it begins once more...perhaps, there can be only one. But you are still in time. Surrender to me."

One of his hands takes his sword, but does not unsheathe it just yet.

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"How...how...HOW DARE YOU!"

[url="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dznUMYJAj0A"]Theme of the White Witch[/url]

Suddenly the entire room began to shake as Sarah lifted off the ground, a mighty wind blowing from her very being as she floated into the air, her deep blue eyes looking down at the Germanic warrior as if they could not be anymore different. "It didn't have to be like this Martens! We could have served this world together, but I guess the bonds formed in immortality run shallow, just as I thought it would. No matter, you say there can only be one of us on this Earth? Very well it shall be so, but I'm telling you now Martens that it won't be me. My work is not complete yet." She began to chuckle, which transformed into a maniacal laugh, she turned her head towards the sky as bolts of lightning flashed through the windows and the iron statues began to jitter and rattle more before metallic groans escaped their hollow insides.

"How may we serve you Ladyship?" The iron voices called out in unison.

"My servants! There is a rat in my castle, dispose of him."

She floated up higher towards the ceiling as the Iron Knights began to step off their pedestals their spears pointed at the Germanic warrior and began to advance, the echo of their clanking armor filling the grand entrance of the castle. He would find himself surrounded, one at his front, one at his left, his right, and two behind him, always advancing, never stopping. They looked like regular suits of armor, a purple plump in the helmet and the hollowness escaping from their movements. It was an unnatural force that moved them and all the while, Sarah floated above, laughing hysterically as the knights moved in.

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Immediately he unsheathes his sword and springs towards her, much faster than anyone could ever dream, to try and stab her and then to bring her down. He did not care for the pieces of armor, he was conceited enough that he dismissed them and decided to go for the real threat first, which seemed to be simply too busy laughing. When he did this, without thinking, he started to wonder how it was possible...the serum could not have done this. As he is on the air, for a second he wonders: What if now she has become stronger than him?

But he believes in his spirit above all. He still knew himself to have the most resilient spirit. And he aims for her chest, seeming to be flying in spite of only being in mid-air due to the jump. He felt instantly happier then, as if he had at last properly returned to his element: War.

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But as soon as Martens neared her chest, Sarah snapped out of her laughter and caught him by his arm. Her eyes changed to a full blue, no pupils, no irises, just sapphire blue. "No, no, no Michel, I don't like cheap shots like this." Then with her second arm she grabbed hold of his other arm and leaned in closer. "Never leave a girl alone with a power like you gave me, we tend to experiment." She smirked. "Now, I don't want to fight you yet, you're a warrior right. Show me that you are worthy of my blade and I of yours. Stop disrespecting me!" With that she kicked him hard in the chest sending him back down towards the floor and back towards the center of the five armored knights. "But I know that I'm distracting." She made a mirror appear out of thin air as another lightning bolt struck. "Albert thought so too. But if I'm so distracting, maybe it would be best that I leave you gentlemen to play around. I will see you later Michel, hopefully, I would still like to talk about my offer." Suddenly a blue light enveloped her as she disappeared into the air leaving Martens with the ever advancing armored knights.



Clank...Went their footsteps and closer and closer they came, spears at the ready, ready for blood.

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Him being caught was completely surprising, he did not see it coming. He had been confident, too confident on his own abilities. After this, right before she would kick him so brutally, she could spot the faint hint of a blush accross his face...he had eaten well before dropping by. He does not then try to stop his fall, and collides into the floor in a back-breaking manner, a grin across his face...he watches her until she departs, and the armors get closer...energy returns to him, this can be seen so clearly on his eyes, now more widely open when he stands.

[i]"Want a piece of me? Do not be ridiculous. Ich bin dein Kaiser. Don't you know who I am?"[/i]

He jumps high and backwards once more, getting out of the way of the knights around him and landing behind one, having sheathed his sword while on midair, finding it useless against armor. All he needed was his flesh, he moves forth at once to bluntly punch one of the armors on the back, and the impact is so strong that it actually shatters that part of the armor, as if a hidden explosion had taken place. He moves and waits for the next armor to attack him, allowing to spear to come close to piercing through, he moves to the side barely on time and takes the weapon, then shoves it forth to knock the knight back and make this weapon his own. Ceasing to be methodical, he rushes the remaining knights and uses his brute force in the form of elbow strikes, fists and kicks to shatter them, seeming to enjoy it, but then, seeming to almost dance as he manages to avoid each spear. He has more fun with the last armor: Grabbing it by one leg and tossing it out of a window, just for the sake of discharging some of his energy.

[i]"You're gonna need a whole goddamn army to take on me!"[/i]

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[i]"You're gonna need a whole goddamn army to take on me!"[/i]

"And I do my dear Michel...I do..." A faint voice was heard from the wind blowing from the broken windows and behind him, Martens would hear the faint creak of the great doors leading out towards the main corridor beyond the entrance hall. It was beckoning him forward, she was beckoning him forward and immediately as the doors opened, torches along the walls immediately lit up guiding his way. If he proceeded forward however, Martens knew that he would be entering a hell of which he had never encountered before in his life. But let us not tarry and begin this tale as it should properly be told.

[url="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=10UlrIlDFIs"]The Great Hallway[/url]

The first room that was connected from the entrance corridor was termed the Great Hallway but the Countess and for good reason, this vast room was the central hub of the entire castle and from this hall, Martens would be able to access all parts of the castle, the upstairs where Sarah's study and personal quarters were. The base level, where the guest rooms and her life of excess was wasted on ballrooms, lavish gardens, and other prized possessions. While near the end of the room, there were also doors that led deeper into the subterranean levels of the castle. Here he would be able to find the underground waterway that gave life to the mystical residence that Sarah employed, the catacombs of her dead, and the laboratory where she created many of the experiments that she would use in her plans against the world.

Of course this was not to say that the Great Hallway was unguarded either, Martens would find a vast array of demons that he would need to best if he wanted to get anywhere deeper into the castle and they were well aware of his arrival as well. As soon as he stepped into the Hall, the walls began to shake and as vast as the hall was, and as bright as it was from the torch lights on the walls and on the chandeliers on the ceilings, the large windows, letting in the light of the moon and lightning were the most frightening thing. On its black marble floors, Martens would find many other armored knights, though now armed with various arsenals of weapons, from flails, to axes, and even one with a large claymore that the knight was barely able to lift. However, not all were as functioning as well as the armor, this hallway was also home to Sarah's possessed human servants, the ghouls. These disgusting denizens of the castle crept slowly down the corridor if Martens came into sight, coming out of rooms holding prized works of art and statues. They had deathly white skin, their eyes were black and while they moved slow, their strength, if they could get a hold of the German, was mythical. Moaning as they walked the ghouls, both men and women, crept towards him, swords and knives drawn, ready for blood.

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He throws the spear aside in frustration and takes out his firearm of choice, a custom built pistol which seemed to be closer to being an autocannon due to its sheer size, lifting it with both hands would be unthinkable for some weaker people already, he lifts it with his left hand and reaches for his sword with the right hand, and standing almost at the doorway, starts to discharge the armor-piercing rounds with impunity towards the enemies far away, the power of this weapon being such that it may rip limbs off or cause heads to partially explode just from the insane force. It had a massive recoil, which he somehow seemed to accept unphased as he shot with perfect, inhuman accuracy. Blast after blast, soon the air had an unusual scent. When a ghoul would move close enough, he would strikw using his sword with such force that he would normally simply divide each creature in two parts, deader than before already. When there are only a few enemies left, he begins to walk forwards, still shooting and slashing, taking care of his peripheral vision not to be surprised, and soon, it all looked like a war zone. When he is done, he examines one of the extremely oversized metal axes which belonged then to an armor. He puts his regular weapons back to sheath and holster and takes the massive axe with a grin. This was more like it.

He does not feel hunted. Rather, he feels like a hunter. And knowing no fear, he simply walks forwards, wherever it may lead him, confident that whichever direction he would take, she would eventually show herself. Right now, he only cared about one thing: Finding the next creature to smash with his axe, wanting to break it apart. He was no longer thinking, but acting.

"Is that all you got? Huh? Is it? You're !@#$@#$ with Kaiser Martens! You're !@#$@#$ with the best! But I $%&@ with YOU! I will tear this castle down brick by brick and then I will eat your corpse!"

Yeah. He was losing it.

Edited by Kaiser Martens
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If they had been alive, it would have been a blood bath, however the wonderful thing about killing things that are are already dead, if you can even use the word, killing, or destroying the armor with magical properties, no blood would stain the carpet. As Martens moved down the Great Hall, the ghouls and the armored knights would not stop, like Martens in their own disgusting way, they had no fear either, there was nothing for them behind, only in front and they groaned bringing their swords and daggers down upon him, only to be hacked away. Leaving a trail of moldy arms and legs across the entire corridor. Reaching the end of the corridor, going straight, the smell of the corpses and the mess he made, suddenly vanished, they never came back, but the hall was eerily clean once again. Having chose to go forward, the large door was that Martens approached was the most decorative door that he had seen yet in this castle. It was made of beautiful mahogany, frosted glass ran down the middle and two golden handles clicked downward to allow him entrance into the room with a loud creak. In front of him lay the vastness of the Grand Ballroom.

[url="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oquad3rnZSI"]Waltzing with Death[/url]

For all of Martens' energy for defeating the legions of ghouls and armored knights, the Ballroom was unfortunately empty of all things, however a soft waltz continued to play throughout the darkroom. It was expansive, hardwood floors stretched several yards in each direction. There was a banquet table on the far side of the room and elegant chairs that might have been found in Versailles or one of the pristine castles in Vienna or Bavaria, while the mirrors that covered ever wall around him, made the room look much larger than it actually was, and it was already a pretty large room. As he took one step forward, the chandeliers on the ceiling suddenly sprang to life, their candles burning brightly as they swayed back and forth, bringing the entire room to life. The music grew louder off in the corner and in front of him, out of the air two spectres formed, a man and a woman, both dressed elegantly in clothes fitting the Age of Enlightenment, looking deep into each others eyes like signs of love that was never ending a love that was unbreakable.

Then there was a loud groan from one of the chandeliers, if he looked up, he would see the Dark Lady herself standing on one of the chandeliers, rocking back and forth musing quietly to herself. "You see how lovely they look Michel" She chuckled. "I remember those days, getting lost in someone's eyes as you dance across the floor." Sarah stopped and blinked, looking down at the warrior. "Then why are you disturbing them?" As soon as Sarah said that, she disappeared in the same wave of blue light as the dancers stopped. They turned their heads to look at Martens, two normal looking people, albeit apparitions, but they were both handsome creatures. Then out from their sides they pulled two rapiers as their eyes shown like onyx and in unison as if one being flew through the air towards him, a great shriek from both the man and woman alike. The air boomed, as the candles exploded in an inferno of fire at the spectre's attack and this was something Martens might have some difficulty with, both seemed to handle their rapiers with deadly accuracy, what more, they didn't need to stand on the ground to fight, instead flying through the air at him. If they happened to miss, they were quick to regroup and aim for him once again. However, even those apparitions were vulnerable to being cut in half by the warrior's axe, he would just have to match their speed with his strength or face being overrun.


"See!" Sarah's voice filled the ballroom again. "You disturb their matron's party by trying to kill her. Do you think my servants would allow you to leave without a fight and my God Martens, an axe, such poor discipline, this isn't the 4th Century. Now, Victor, Annette...please, teach this gentleman the true meaning of cultured dueling."

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At first, he was dissapointed by the room, and instantly his paranoia told him that there had to be an array of death traps hidden within. That was when the Lady and the spectres were finally spotted by him. He stops inside, and the doors behind him close slowly, silently. Either way, he was not going to turn back now. After her comment, he seems to calm down.

[i]"But I do not remember anymore..."[/i]

He tried to remember the last time. The last time that he had been like that with someone. It seemed to be several lifespans ago in his mind...it had been another world, he himself had been different...but he cannot quite remember. He felt jealous of the spectres for a moment, and he was snapped out of this state when they finally move forth to attack them. He jumps back at once to avoid their attacks and grins, "You say what you want. Soon the axe will be the one to finish you off." And he jumps again, not attacking the spectres. He looked around, and it seemed as if he were in hell itself, not only due to the fire but due to the many reflections on the mirror. He jumps to the side, slides past them, and keeps avoiding. It is strange that he does not seem to hit back...he did not want to kill them. Avoiding them at each turn, he makes his way for the door at the other end of the room, and tries to open it, then he tries to slash it open in a brutal strike of the massive axe. Never had he behaved in this manner in battle, wanting to avoid it in spite of several chances for, perhaps, finishing the spirits off.

"Do not make 'em be no more for your cause, Valkyrie!"

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"Ah." Sarah stopped and looked down at the attacking spectres and waved her hands as they ceased their attacks. "So, the warrior has a soft spot after all. Not wishing to destroy love in its purest form on the astral plane, Michel I have to say. I'm proud of you for something like that. I didn't expect this at all." Jumping down off the chandelier, Sarah walked over towards the statuesque apparitions. "They are lovely are they not, forever to turn and waltz in love's embrace, it almost makes you wish to return to an earlier time..." She reached over and put her hand on Annette's shoulder, but the Countess' hand fell through the spirit as she snapped back into the reality of the situation, glaring back at Martens. "You're right, something about them is lovely." In front of her, the two spirits began to evaporate into blue flames and disappeared completely with their lips still against each others, looking deeply into one another's eyes. "I won't torture even the spirits like that. You see Martens, it is this love that I want to inspire in the world. Do you think leaders of nations, do you think generals, and warriors think about people like Victor and Annette? No, they couldn't have, Victor and Annette were killed ages ago in a war, lovers, taken apart because someone deemed themselves entitled to destroy a people in their way. You are a warrior and yet you stopped, there needs to be more people like you Martens."

She smiled, her complexion becoming fair, snow-white skin and a loving look in her eyes. "I don't things to happen like this. But if want to kill me, then what you see here can never happen! You must be able to see that! We both want the same thing, just different ways of doing that. Now just drop the sword."

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He seemed to feel ashamed that he indeed had a soft spot, and looked away for a moment, folding his arms. "Hm."
"Of course that they're going to love. They have nothing else to do for all eternity. If they didn't have love, they'd be like every other aes-forsaken monster in here. Including ourselves. They're not a part of this world...although some of us may be like them at heart, just being in this world makes it all different."

He steps forwards once.

"You know what would happen if all our people were like this? We'd become a worthless nation and would have to allow our beloved Southern Allies to stomp all over us together with their Danish friends. Your error is believing that our Warriorly characteristics are not compatible with love. We are [i]Spearmen[/i], because our spears mean survival. Our path is made when blood is left behind...else we would face nothing but extinction. The world is against us. All of them. Even yourself. Everyone is against Norddeutschland. Everyone favors our enemies at all times...we will always be...the outcasts."

He grasps his axe tighter. "So then. I have to make my way. Are you going to fight now or still going to run away? I've got plenty more ammo, and I've got nothing to lose."

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Sarah sneered. "No. You haven't changed at all! This is why I died inside Michel because I realized there was no room for hope in this world. You're not an outcast, you're only an outcast if you let yourself become one. But I guess its too hard to realize that if you can never peer beyond the wall that you built up." She stepped back as the same blue flames began to encircle her. "No, if you have nothing to lose, why in the world would I fight you now. There's more to life then just fighting and war, when you realize that, maybe then I'll waste my time with you. Otherwise, you have more to learn." The Countess began to chuckle again as she finally disappeared in the flames, her laugh echoing through the empty ballroom as the last of the chandeliers went dark.

However, in the silence another voice reached through the windows of the far wall of the ballroom, where a door led out towards the garden. "Help...Please...help!" It was a man's voice and he sounded desperate, but not that far away, perhaps just beyond the ballroom out into the darkness of the night. Yet, what awaited Martens outside was Sarah's botanical experiments formed in a manner only she could conceive.

[url="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7r8i3g4xwY&feature=related"]Cross Your Heart...[/url]

The thunderstorm clouds that had been overhead when Martens first arrived at the castle had since dispersed now letting the full moon shine down on the ground with all its brightness. It was a beautiful garden, though it was deathly quiet, there were no ghouls, no monsters opposing the warrior. Only the cry for help from the man that lay beyond the tall trees where the path ran towards. It darkened once inside the small grove and then just beyond that brightened again, apparently there was a glade. If he would walk, the garden would resemble the ruins of ancient Roman or Greek gardens, statues of goddesses and gods, unmoving, yet seeming to watch every step the German took. All with the cries of help filling the damp air outside.

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"Maybe I would not fight all the time if I HAD anything other than a battlefield!" He said, as if it were her fault, as if he was complaining in the same manner that one would do when being given a product which then would turn out to be broken or stolen right away. Like he had been entitled to having more than just his eternal war, but been left only with it against his will. He slams the end of the axe against the floor obstinately, yet childishly if one were to see it from a different angle.

And she is gone. He was turning to leave through the door, assuming it now open, but he hears the voice and nears the window...he looks out of it and then drops out from it, looking around for the one that had called for help. Would it be another trap? It had to be. Sarah seemed to be omnipresent. Still, when seeing the moon, garden and statues he smiled and breathed in. Such beautiful place. Even if he were defeated, it would be a beautiful place to die. He began to walk slowly, with care not to damage the nature beneath his boots, looking around for the one calling for help, but making no sound, holding the axe dearly to himself.

He spots a statue, the statue of a bearded man missing an eye. He smiles and nods respectfully to it before moving on.

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The gravel of the path would crunch lightly beneath his feet as he would walk through the trees of the grove towards where the moonlight shown down on the ground and where the voice of the helpless man continued to cry out, louder and louder the closer Martens got. Finally he came to two white pillars that led out into the open grove, two statues of Hel looked down at him, one statue seemingly all beautiful and the other seemingly all rotten, but now the voice of the man was too close it ignore and if he stepped out into the glade where the moon shown brightly he would find the man tied up against a center wooden pole at the far end of the grove, struggling with all his might to escape.

"Oh thank God!" The man cried as soon as Martens came into the moonlight. "Please, you have to help me, I was one of the Countess' guests, I came for a ball yesterday, but when I woke up, everyone at the party had disappeared. I was the only one left. I think she's an unnatural woman, a witch, a devil. I want to kill her myself and I'm assuming that if you're here still walking around you bested her demons! Please, you have to help me out, she brought me out her to feed me to her plants, they're terrible things." And almost as soon as he had said that, the ground began to shake and the man's face grew pale as the garden nearly seemed to come alive. The very flowers around the glade seemed to sway back and forth as if possessed, when suddenly out of the trees and the shrubs, vines jumped from the plants and wrapped themselves around Martens' legs and arms as well they wrapped around the pole where the man was tied. The vines were strong, it was clear from how green they were, green, thick, and they had a mind of their own. While at the end of the grove, behind the man that was tied to the pole sat a larger plant, that had gone unnoticed until now, because it had been unmoving. A large Venus Flytrap, it screeched, opening its mouth to devour both Martens and the man with its entangling vines.

"Please!" The man called. "Do something! You have an axe! Do something!" Already the vines were pulling the writhing man towards the mouth of the plant and after its first meal, would devour Martens as well.

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He looks at the horrible Hel statue with disgust, and thinking that it may eventually come alive to attack him he brutally smashes it apart with his axe. He called it prevention. Then he moves forwards and smiles to the man - or he tries to, in the end, it's a disturbing, low grim. He may wonder if he was with Sarah, even. But he was not.

"Hold still. I'll help-" He's interrupted by the vines and tries to force himself away from them...it is no use, and instead he ends up swinging the massive axe overhead to then smash downwards against the man-eater plant. If demons could not withstand the axe, surely a plant would not do much better. Afterwards, if it would be possible, he'd instead use his lighter weapon, the sword, to surgically cut apart the vines holding them both. He did not feel like that had been all, there should still be more to deal with...

"You should run away now. Or you'll be something's dinner."

There was less light. Only one cloud seemed to be there, only one, to block the moonlight, as if trying to rob them both from their only advantage, making the night more complete.

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