View Full Version : Nhaleet (iarentevil) vs The Gentleman (SaulMurphy)

02-22-2014, 06:34 AM
This would be both our second battles. Blood, sweat and tears went into these and I hope for a good feel from everyone! CnC fairly and may the best man win!



The Gentleman:

The evening was cold and miserable. The snow could be seen doing its seemingly eternal descent upon the already white covered ground. Icicles were seen forming around street signs and under window frames. The moon was hidden in the darkened sky and none of the stars revealed their light to the world. It was a glum scene indeed, save for the slight hum of music.

A gentle breeze picked up and angled the falling snow onto a window. The snow didn’t sit on the glass for long and melted, but before it could go very far it added to the icicles that formed below. The window was massive however and custom made to be fitted in that particular spot. The walls were high as well to suggest a very large room on the other side of it and once a person did glance through the window the inside did indeed show the massive ball room of the Prince mansion.

This was also the origin of the music and what beautiful music it was. George hired one of the most aspirational classical musicians of the time to play at this event. The Prince School of Thought for the Less Privileged is an initiative his mom started all those years ago and tonight was just one of those typical fund raisers.

Many of the hottest and richest population of the whole Upper Stickpage District showed up to show their support and hopefully to give the School some financial support. George can only hope.

The Gentleman was dressed in one of his finest black tuxes with a black bowtie. The white shirt under the jacket emphasized his athletic build while the trousers reached down to emphasize his tall physique. He was currently spinning on his black pointed shoes and once he finally stopped, he faced the Lady Pearl. They danced for a while, quite formally, and once the music finally reached its conclusion of the song they both clapped their hands.

She was one of the more attractive women to come to the Fund Raiser with her light pink dress. It was embroidered along the hems and near the bosom area. She was well endowed, but was modest by not showing as much skin. These kind of formal events usually frown upon the modern skin-flashing fashion. She had pretty green eyes and long brown hair with blonde highlights along the tips and while she stared at the RHG before her, she couldn’t help but wear her adorable smile.

George gently inclined his head and dismissed his dance partner with a kiss on her hand. Afterwards he spun on his heels before Lady Pearl could say anything and approached the refreshment table as the new song started. Once there he grabbed himself a glass of the punch and sipped at it irritably. “What I would do for a warm cup of tea right now.” He muttered to himself.

“That would be lovely!” A nearby voice said. He turned to see who it was and was pleasantly surprised to find it belonging to a woman with big brown eyes. She could well be the most beautiful girl at the event and he couldn’t help but smile at her almost completely forgetting his irritation with the lack of tea. Almost.

“Evening my lady, I don’t think we’ve met.” George said placing his cup on the table and extending his arm to take her hand. She placed her hand gently on his and he placed an even gentler kiss upon it. Her skin was soft and clearly well looked after. The rest of her milk-white skin also seemed smooth and clear.

“I don’t believe we have. Marion Walters,” The woman wearing the silk blue dress said. It was of a fine cut and showed her thin figure and tiny waist quite well. She wasn’t very tall, but carried herself in a manner that makes her seem taller. Her arms were exposed all the way to her shoulders and the dress hangs around her neck. “I come from one of the wine estates outside StickPage.” She took back her hand and softly stroked her long black hair. Her face, with the small nose and think lips, seemed distant for a second before she wore a smile again.

“Well met Ms Walters. I am George Prince, the organiser of this event.” He stroked his moustache as if proud of his title. What she said next made him feel less confident.

“Where’s the tea then?” She said jokingly.

“I… I… My mother said that I shouldn’t add it to the event… Not that many tea drinkers among this crowd.” He looked over the waves of people dancing and conversing all over the place. He spotted Lady Pearl giving him a stare, but before he could decipher what it meant, she looked away and continued talking to one of her friends.

“Do you always listen to your mother?” The amusement in her voice clearly grew. Marion seemed to enjoy making fun of him, but before he could stutter a reply she added; “Maybe you and I could go get some tea somewhere alone?” She seemed to have a mischievous look on her face now. George has encountered forward women before, but one with such fire has never truly caught his attention.

He quickly cleared his throat before speaking again. “I’m sure we could find something my dear Ms Walters.” He offered her his arm quite confidently. She looked at it, smiled at him and hooked her slender arm through his. The music changed to a more mocking tone as if to emphasize the fact that their walking past Lady Pearl who clearly hasn’t had enough of the handsome Prince heir.

Just before the couple reached the stairs, clearly making quite the scene with their movement across the floor, a familiar voice said; “There he goes again. I thought he grew up.” Luckily a more positive voice answered; “That’s my boy.”

The voices belonged to none other than his parents who were standing to the side near the staircase that the Gentleman and his companion were approaching. His mother, looking very stern and angry at the world was completely grey on the top of her head. She wore a red silk dress with frills running across her chest and the dress was quite loose downward. She was wearing red high heels to match her dress and it made her as tall as he. Her face was what defined her; smooth, cold and slightly furious at just about everything. She wasn’t impressed with his organisation of the evening, even though nothing has gone wrong, and she is especially not impressed with his current doings with the wRHG.

His father on the other hand was wearing a suit instead of the tux that most other males attending the Fund Raiser. He was as tall as George and also completely grey on his head. Underneath the blazer was a blue button up shirt and a black tie. He had a slight gut visible, but nothing more than most men his age. His face was one that indicated he was handsome once, but withered away through the stress of life, but he still had a smile on his face. Most important thing he told George was to enjoy life no matter what happened. “Live the good life son.” He would say and George has.

‘It is ironic,’ George thought. ‘That those two are married and stayed together all these years.’ Regardless of the comments that were thrown his way, the couple walked up the stairs and left the beautiful mocking melody behind.

They walked in silence for a while, touring through the hallways of the mansion. It was slightly colder there than in the ballroom and Marion gave a shiver. Being the man he is, George took off his tuxedo jacket and placed it over her shoulders.

“My Mr Prince, aren’t you just the gentleman?” She said almost teasingly again.

“Funny you should say that.” He said and gave himself a smile. He pulled his hand through his hair, missing the feeling of his top hat. After a while they reach a room that was above the ball room. If looking through one of the windows that have frosted up a bit one can notice the lights and movement from the celebrations below.

Inside the room were a few elegant couches and a small coffee table. The carpet under it all was made in an eastern European country. On the one wall was the window looking out and on the adjacent wall was a counter top with two items on it. One was a tea set while the other was the marvel of the room; a quaint little kettle. It was an average kettle that would be used in most households across the world, but Marion definitely gave it a curious look.

George sensed his partner’s confused look and quickly explained; “I love my tea and of course having a fancy tea pot is always nice, but I had that specific kettle since StickPage University and it has never failed to produce a perfect cup of Earl Grey.” The music downstairs changed to a more lively sound than the mischievous one of before.

“Interesting. A sentimental kettle. Something I never thought I would hear from a man.” She replied slowly, moving toward the counter top that the items stood on. “So tell me, what is the ingredients to a perfect cup of tea?”

The Gentleman approached the woman in black from behind and placed his hands firmly on hers. “First you flip the switch on the kettle.” He said using her thin finger to switch it on. Marion smelled like lavender and he didn’t hate it. “Next you grab two cups from the set.” Using her other hand he reached for the cups and pulled two closer. She turned her head and looked at him with those brown eyes. His grey eyes were lame in comparison. Her mouth seemed slightly open, but he ignored the hint and continued his instructions. “Next you grab two Earl Grey tea bags and drop them in the cup.” Which was demonstrated as instructed. He stared at her eyes now, moving his face slowly closer. “Next you wait for the kettle to get really hot…” He whispered and moved in.

Sadly their lips never met because the music downstairs suddenly stopped violently. There was a general unrest from the people in the ballroom and Marion didn’t seem to notice. She stood there against him, eyes closed and lips pursed. He turned away from her and headed towards the door. He looked back at the disappointed face she wore and how beautiful she looked wearing his jacket.

“I will be back shortly my dear. Something is wrong.” He left and made his way back down toward the origin of the commotion. He ran quite quickly and reached the ballroom with a flourish in which to announce his presence to everyone within. They were however staring at two people arguing. One was his mother, her face almost matching her dress while the other was a man George has never seen before.

The man arguing with his mother was quite unusual. The kid was probably extremely average-looking with short brown hair and plain features, but that was where the averageness ends. His skin was quite white as if he has not gotten enough sun in years and his outfit made it look even worse. Dark purple suit with a yellow tie and red shirt, the man was dressed to stand out and flourish his extremely horrid fashion sense. His blue shoes were a laughable concept and if not for being slightly shorter than George, he would’ve said the kid was older than he looked. The kid must just be gate-crashing the Fund Raiser.

No one seemed to continue their night until the stranger was dealt with. Even the musician stood staring across the dance floor. George needed to sort out this problem and get back to Marion before the mood left her. However as he approached he heard the words: “Gladiator” from his mother’s mouth and immediately felt like turning around. Sadly he cannot change the direction he is walking anymore for his mother had noticed him and was already opening her mouth for another tongue-lashing.

“Listen here Georgey. I didn’t quite understand why you joined this fighting game, but now it has followed you home. This is unacceptable! You hear me?” George wanted to reply, but she cut him off. “Don’t give me any of your excuses. I want this…” She gave the youth a murderous look. “… thing away from us and the faster you do it, the better.” She spun around quite elegantly and returned to her husband who also seemed a bit worried.

George sighed as his mother reached the other Prince family member and looked at the man who seemed calm and collected. “Mothers huh? They do seem to rub us up the wrong way don’t you think?” He tried sounding less humiliated than he felt.

“I wouldn’t know.” The kid replied quite respectfully, but with a knowing air.

George stared at him quite curiously. “Who are you anyway? My mother mentioned gladiators? You from wRHG?” He adjusted his cuffs.

“Yes. I’m your opponent for tonight!” The reply was quite straight to the point. He clearly seemed to want to showcase his outfit in front of everyone, but his tone suggested something else entirely.

“I need to be informed beforehand via a letter being delivered to me. I have not received such a letter.” The Gentleman pulled at his moustache and was quite aware of all the eyes staring at the pair. ‘Clearly this was some misunderstanding.’ He thought to himself.

The brown-haired kid scratched into his inner pocket of his purple jacket and produced the letter which was clearly signed by the RHG organisation. He handed it to Mr Prince ‘It was a coincidence. Might not even be me he’s been assigned to fight.’ As he read the words he wasn’t sure of it now.

“You are to fight The Gentleman. Meet near the club named; Harrington’s Yarn tonight.”

“I guess you were pranked my good man.” He said as he handed back the card. “I don’t recall having received any letter.” George wasn’t sure what he would do if it was indeed true. ‘Fight him I guess?’

The kid seemed confused, but quickly replied. “I don’t think so. Could you have missed it?” That question was insulting, but it could also be true, because George was indeed busy the whole day organising this event.

Earlier that day, George was sitting in his room at ActaSanctorum working tediously on a few last minute orders for the Fund Raiser. The sun was setting and he needed to get ready for the ball himself. His tuxedo was neatly lying on his bed so he could put it on at a moment’s notice.

His blonde haired team leader walked into the room eating a piece of chocolate. “Hey Mr Prince. Special letter for you from…” George cut him off.

“Not now Mr Gladstone. I am in the middle of finishing up details for tonight’s Fund Raiser. Just leave it on the table over there.” He pointed at a small bedside table that stood to one side.

“I think it’s important.” Seb took another bite of his chocolate. “It says it’s from…”

“LEAVE!” The stress of the moment was far too great for him to care about a letter. Sebastian ran out the room leaving George a moment to quickly get dressed and to rush up to the Prince Mansion.

Thinking back, George realized that it must’ve been the letter of the challenge that Gladstone was trying to give him. Embarrassed, he extended his hand and the kid took it carefully. “I accept this battle.” After a moment he asked. “ Why are you dressed like that?”

The kid gave a smile and said; “It was a fancy party and I needed to make an entrance.” He seemed confident and as if he knows something that he’s not letting on. ‘I have to be careful against this one.’ George thought to himself.

“What is your name?”

“Nhaleet, and you are The Gentleman I suppose?” George nodded. After they shook hands he turned toward the crowd of people watching. His mother was clearly livid and his dad was making attempts at calming her down. The Lady Pearl seemed to be excited for what is to follow while a crowd of expectant faces looked at the odd pair.

George walked up to the musician and whispered into his ear to tell him to resume playing; something to set the mood. After a moment’s hesitation, the music started up in a upbeat cheery tune. He walked to the front of the crowd and said; “My umbrella please!” Suddenly Umbra was flying through the air and he caught it in one hand. “My top hat if you please!” A black top hat came out of the crowd as well and he caught it with his other hand. His mother’s eyes grew as she started realizing what is about to happen.

Nhaleet was stripping off his suit and revealed that underneath he was wearing a mottled grey uniform and attached two knives to his back. George was slightly relieved to see that his opponent didn’t have any firearms.

The crowd formed around the two gladiators and there was a decent amount of space between the two of them. ‘An audience, an opponent, music; what better way to spend the evening?’ He thought to himself as he aimed the front edge of Umbra at his opponent.

“Let’s go.” George said fixing the top hat firmly on his head and heard a moan from his mother before the two of them rushed each other, he with his umbrella ready and the other man readying his fists it would seem.

Since his last battle George learnt not to underestimate his opponent. Thus he quickly reacted as the man’s fist aimed for his face, he spun around and attacked with Umbra, but it seemed that Nhaleet was expecting this and dodged the attack. He quickly retaliated with a firm hook under George’s chin which caused him to stumble backwards. This was however not the end of the attack. His opponent quickly came at him with a firm jab that turned his stumble to a fall. Crashing on the floor to the sound of the crowd’s shock, George quickly rolled away.

Nhaleet seemed to stare at the Gentleman as if weighing him up. The look was calculating as if he knew exactly every move that could be executed. ‘What powers does this man possess? He seems so confident.’

George got to his feet and faced his opponent once more. He could try matching his opponent with his speed; maybe he could out manoeuvre him with that. Thus he rushed forward, trying a different tactic of stabbing at his opponent who confidently dodges it. After the dodge, he felt a pain in his abdomen. ‘How did he manage that?’ George thought as another blow struck his face. The crowd seemed to have a general “Aaah” sound from them. The music also changed to a sadder tune.

Luckily Prince brought his umbrella up in time to block another punch. The pain on Nhaleet’s face was apparent for he has never struck Mithril head-on. He quickly pulled away his hand and the opportunity was there. The retaliation came with the butt-end of Umbra as it slammed into the other man’s face pushing him back. Another strike came as he tried pushing the sharp end into Nhaleet, but his opponent was quick enough to dodge and back flipped to a safe distance.

He stood there calculating George again. ‘What does he see?’ The music’s sad tone picked up a bit again and people were actually urging them on. He even heard his farther shout something, but it was lost in the crowd of voices.

‘Let me think here. A head on attack is usually dodged by him and he retaliates immediately. He seems to be caught off guard once he punched Umbra and that seemed to have given me some sort of advantage.’ His thoughts were cut short as the pale youth ran with trained speed towards him. He seemed to get ready for a direct attack and George quickly opened Umbra, but with a quick jump over him, Nhaleet managed to get behind him and round-house kicked him in the back.

The top hat above his head fell on the floor as he cried out with the pain. As always the attack didn’t stop and another firm kick was felt between his shoulder blades. George fell to his knees and quickly retracted Umbra. With one swing around the boy wasn’t there anymore. He blew irritably on his moustache as he found his opponent behind him again wielding one of his knives. ‘He’s ready to finish me off so quickly.’

Quick thinking, the Gentleman kicked out behind him and tripped Nhaleet. The kid used the momentum of the fall to roll away to safety once more and George stood and readied his umbrella. ‘I think I’ve figured it out. If he expects the attack, he can counter it, but if it isn’t predictable, he falls victim to it.’ The knowing eyes of his opponent were now not such an unease as it was before. The music seemed to compliment his mood with a loud celebratory tune. The crowd was now getting quite into the fight and what a fight it has been.

‘Time to end this.’ George approached his enemy a little slower because of his pain, but no less threateningly. Umbra at the ready he feigns an attack to the one side and as Nhaleet moved to block he kicked at him making his eyes widen with surprise. Another quick jab with his weapon and as another attempt to dodge comes, the jab turned into a quick swing. The kid was hit and backed away. He seemed to be searching the Gentleman for answers, but no time was given for a full analyses. This time Umbra opened up and as he spun the umbrella around to confuse his opponent, he closed it quickly and managed to stab into Nhaleet’s leg.

The kid cried out and managed to retreat once more. He seemed to have lost some of his confidence, but he was still radiating danger. He held both his knives in his hands now and was limping a bit. Blood was seen pouring through the grey material.

George ran at his opponent now and feigned another hit at his head, but the real strike was in the momentum to knock his opponent down. However, this time he saw it coming and dodged the feign while rolling to trip the moustached man.

With a crash and a scream from one of the women in the crowd, Lady Pearl maybe, the well-dressed man hit the floor. Nhaleet took the moment and managed to get a quick stab into his lower back with one of the knives, but George rolled before the blade could be extracted and with blade inside him he managed to get away leaving a small puddle of blood on the floor.

They both breathed heavily, but neither really seemed ready to end the other just yet. ‘He likes the attention as much as I do.’ He stood and pulled out the blade and dropped it near his feet. A commotion among the crowd indicated someone was concerned about him. Probably his mother. The music came to a soft melodic tune.

Nhaleet was probably coming to a similar conclusion and might be thinking that winning a fight against someone on their home turf will definitely make him a great warrior, but he lost his speed and George knows now how to counter his ‘ability’. All it will take is a little luck.

George pushed at his wound trying to put some pressure on it. Nhaleet seemed to be used to pain and seemed to be ignoring his wound. It would also seem that the average-looking gladiator seemed to have derived some plan. He ran through his pained leg and managed to build up quite a bit of speed, but George was ready for him. The knife came at him, but with a quick dodge he managed to miss, but it would seem Nhaleet’s intention was to get his other knife and so he managed to do a forward barrel roll and picked up the bloodied knife in a quick swift motion. The next attack came quickly and even though his lower back ached, George managed to steady himself.

The knife flashed from the left and Umbra came up to block, but it was a feigned attack; from the right-side came the other knife and clipped his right hand. He managed to get past his defence and was within range to end the fight. The first hand’s feign ended up being real and stabbed into his left shoulder. Umbra was dropped and George knew this wasn’t going well for him. All that was left was his luck which he believed in so much since fighting Zero.

The Gentleman embraced his opponent who seemed confused for a second, which was all the time that was needed to make them fall onto the floor. The music stopped, the crowd went quiet and there laid George on top of Nhaleet. George’s left arm went numb and he managed to wrestle the knife out of his opponent’s other hand. ‘What now?’ He thought as he held the knife. The kid was trying to get out from under the tall man, but to no avail. George discards the knife away and rolls off his opponent. He pulls out the knife with his right hand and also throws it to the side.

Nhaleet was on his feet and got ready to finish off George with a kick to the head, but luckily Umbra was close at hand and with one quick grab and swing, he managed to impale his opponent through his shoulder as well, but instead of letting go, he pulled out Umbra and stabbed again. Nhaleet seemed so shocked that he gave up the finishing blow.

The Prince Heir pulled his umbrella out of his opponent and stood up facing the kid. He seemed to be defeated and with good reason. He was disarmed and bleeding profusely. George also bled, but he wasn’t losing half as much blood as the gladiator before him. The pale kid seemed to become paler and before he collapsed, George caught him and eased him onto his back.

“We need a RHG medic!” George shouted. The crowd seemed to be talking among themselves for a while before a man came out wearing the common suit and tie of the evening.

“I work for them. This was an official battle?” He enquired casually as he approached the two of them. George merely nodded. “I’ve never really seen one. I usually see the aftermath.” He got down on his knees and produced a syringe. “Don’t worry, this will stop the bleeding and stimulate recovery.” He placed the sharp end into Nhaleet’s neck and emptied its contents. The bleeding did seem to slow down while his breathing stabilized.

“You fought well kid.” George said as he smiled at the teen, giving his moustached a familiar pull. “Hope you go far with those skills.” He laughed as the average-looking boy opened his eyes.

“Thanks. You were too adaptable, I just couldn’t get hold of you.” He said with a weak smile.

“Just rest my boy. You need it.” George said standing up. The medic produced another needle.

“For you Mr Prince. Just to stop the bleeding. You might feel a little drowsy afterwards.” He smiled when George gave him the go-ahead. “Might hurt a little, but nothing you can handle.” George winced as the needle pricked him, but felt a lot better once the serum started working.

After arguing with his mother, being complimented profusely by onlookers, especially Lady Pearl, George went back upstairs, blood stained and all, to his mysterious lady. As he entered the room, she was sitting enjoying a cup of tea that she obviously made herself.

“My dear miss Marion. You seem to have figured it out.” He said as he sat down beside her on the couch.

“I did Mr Prince. Probably isn’t as good as yours, but it is quite pleasant.” She placed the cup neatly on the coffee table. “So, where were we my gentleman?” She said looking at him, but she was surprised to find that George has fallen asleep right there on the couch. She gave a small smile and placed his tuxedo jacket over him before she snuck towards the door. “Sleep well Mr Prince. We will meet again.”

02-22-2014, 06:44 AM
Umm I just want to say that I's battle link is invalid for me, can you copy and paste it into the post?

anyway I'm going to do my best with CnC despite that I have no clue what I am doing

I think it is a brilliant write and all BUT I found it long and not very interesting, try making it more interesting and alluring to continue to read it.
anyway great description of the environment and with the people.
It was also a good idea to reference to your earlier battle and incorporate it into the story

otherwise than this I got no clue

lesse with I's:
Short but deadly I must say
Not such a huge follow up to it thus not making the reader bored. (NO offense intended saul.)
And also good description of the gentelman and nhaleet

*sigh* I find it an equal match but my vote goes to Iarentevil, sorry saul.

02-22-2014, 06:52 AM
There you go, edited the link, should work now

02-23-2014, 02:30 AM
Btw I sent you the link so you could paste it in (Thus the [/I] stuff).

02-23-2014, 07:55 AM
Oh, haha. Didn't know... but... this is fine too I guess?

02-23-2014, 11:05 AM
It's fine as long as people ignore the coding behind italics and such.