Loss of Perfection

[Darkwolf]

"Intresting weapon" Dragoth said. The inhuman man rushing towards him, his speed was not too much unlike Dragoth's own. At the last moment Dragoth drew his blades, and joined in this dance with windmill parrys and blocks. The light that shined from the weapons were reflecting from the glass windows, the metal bases of the candles, and everything that could possibly reflect light.

As the last spark flew of this show of speed, Dragoth took his offensive. He started by just continuing to slash at his opponent. Every strike he did, he let his control of heat grow and flow from his blades. Soon they grew flames, and soon even Dragoth was sweating. Once his "dance" was done Dragoth flicked his blades and shot the flames at the man for less than a second. A simple but effective offensive.

Their speed were about matched. Dragoth thought of what would happen to him if he had not grown in power. He was so weak back then... it was only a matter of time before he was beat. Dragoth closed his black eyes, and now wanted to show this man what he was now. He opened them to show the crimson flames that burned inside him. This was what he wanted. One grand fight with an inhuman opponent. The light that was inside the room was magnificent. If this building could even stand up for an hour of this fight would be amazing, however.