It was a mostly dark room, save for a dimly lit light centered good twenty-five feet up on the ceiling. A rusted door from an archaic time long past was the only entrance and exit. The only one window centered on the opposite end of the door was barred with a sleek and polished steel alloy, although there was a slight coating of rust, maybe blood. The room, from the dimly lit center, was twenty meters by twenty meters; a silver ceiling vent hood was placed on the ceiling near the single fluorescent light bulb. A drainage hole was on the ground directly below the overhead light bulb, with a smell protruding from it that was vaguely familiar to that of the inside of a limestone cave: sulfur-like and musty. On the opposite side of the ceiling vent hood, and on the other side of the light bulb, was what appeared to be an intercom. On the very borders of the room where the walls met the ceiling were long tube-like light bulbs that were turned off, although not dusty like the overhead light bulb seemed to be. Overall the room was dank and uncomfortable to look on. There was distinct coughing coming from the intercom, and the two persons in the room were roused from unconsciousness. Two men, held in place by magical chains and shackles on opposite sides of the room, disgruntled and unharmed outwardly. Both were hidden from the other by shadow dark enough to only give the other an outline of the other.

"Look at what we have ourselves here gentlemen," said a voice that can only be described as strong and unstable, "we have our new subjects. Of course, the rules are simple: beat the other into submission. You two are free to leave after, but my rich friends and I just want a good show. The lights go on when both of you are ready to fight."

The shackles would simply cease to exist as they did, and the two men in the room would simply fight it out until one gave up and they would be free to leave on their own accord. One of the men was beginning to come to his senses, although not entirely unconscious prior. Everything was a blur to him, but he did know that he was in an unfamiliar place. The smell was unfamiliar, but the smell of the dank room was unbearable. However, he was able to pick out other scents in the room, notably another person on the other side. He could not see very well in the darkness but that did not stop him from getting to his feet and wiping his face of outward exhaustion. The Lycan's form was undamaged and intact, void of any signs of a struggle or fight to have made him wind up where he was then. Zancrow was adorned in a simple black suit; sleek and solid black slacks and a blazer to match with a maroon red button-up, long-sleeved shirt. Shirt cuffs stuck out from the blazer, although Zancrow would take off the blazer and roll the cuffs to his elbows. The one single light bulb seemed to be running on magic, so it would be a given that the other remaining lights would run on the same sort of energy.

Zancrow kept his gaze on the other figure on the other side, keeping his guard at a vigilant high, eyeing the room for all of the properties of the objects at a glance. Nothing was able to conduct electricity, not even the floors, walls, and ceilings; the intercom lid, the vent lid, as well as the drainage lid, were of a plastic-like substance. There wasn't enough liquid to slip on the ground for any good reason. With a calm sigh, he would stand ready to combat the other fellow. Upon the other man standing, both lights would come on and the fight would, hopefully, ensure.

Roman was lost in thought as his body that there in silence, his body suspended by magical chains. There was a drug running through his veins that kept him docile for the moment. Someone had snuck up on him while he was out on a nightly stroll. Granted it was most likely his arrogance that got the best of him, his sloppiness led to a mistake that could turn into a bonus very quickly. A distorted sound came from the speakers above him as it came to life. A voice came through but it only sounded like a muffle wake up call to Roman. His mind was swirling around for a moment as he was being brought back into the real world form his own thoughts. Blurred vision only accompanied the opening of his eyes. Slowly but surely the voice became a bit more clearer in his ear as the drug began to wear off at that very moment. A smell filled the room, a nasty stench of blood and rust. It was accompanied by something more, the smell of a wet dog. Something that Roman was not really prepared for. However, it aided in bringing him back to his senses.

The voice crackled over the speaker as who ever talked into it spoke. Roman was only able to catch the end of the statement. “The lights go on when both of you are ready to fight.” The shackles that held him up released themselves for the moment. His arms dropped down and the weight shifted into his legs. He was a bit unstable at first but, Roman managed to regain his sense of balance. It took a moment for a equilibrium to realign but he looked around the room to see that there was another here with him.

Roman looked down and noticed he was not in his usual clothing attire but only a part of it. His top had been removed and he was only in his pants and wing tipped shoes. Someone had taken the liberty of undressing him slightly. His bum was not sore so thankfully his ass had not be tampered with. Roman's mind had latched onto the reality that had presented itself at that very moment. He rubbed his wrists for a moment before looking back up across the room. Someone was standing there and had prepared themselves. Roman did not make any sudden moments he only glanced around the room to get a guage of where he stood. He was near the wall, directly across from this other male figure. The room itself had no form of conductive properties but it did not really matter to Roman in the slightest. The area was hexagonal in nature and judging from the distance the figure was ten meters away. The room had a 20 diameter radius for close combat purposes. Whoever owned the place did not much room for running. Considering the room smelled of blood this room was used frequently. Not much if any time passed by why he eyed the room. The figure did not make a move at all for the moment.

“First off before we do this give me a name.”

The other male came to his senses at his own pace, seemingly disoriented from the condition of the room or recovering from some sedative. It was a guess, although whether it was the case was not entirely Zancrow's business to care or understand. The smell was slowly but surely starting to become bearable. Zancrow wondered if it was all that necessary to fight with a shirt on, seeing as he may be grabbed around easily by his unknown opponent. Whether the other man's motives were to actually take the situation seriously or not was uncertain. The smell coming from the vent gave the impression that they were still in Crocus, but that seemed to be it. Where in the massive city they were was an unknown variable.

Something about the other man seemed to give off a bloodthirsty vibe. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps it was that sense of danger that dogs get when they are in the presence of something or someone devious. It may have been nauseating, but the smell of the room as a whole took care of that. Zancrow ran his hands through his short-cut, unkempt and spiky hair as the lights at the borders of the room came to life, giving the two men a perfect view of the other. The room appeared to be more hexagonal than from what Zancrow had observed; then again, considering his position in the dark he was not surprised in the slightest. The Lycan's burn scars littered his body in large patches that seemed too painful to look at for very long. Sure the pain was non-existent, but...

The other man was fair-skinned, tall in comparison to the average human male. He had seen a fair share of battle, perhaps, given his physique and intimidating nature. Zancrow felt small to the man, for some reason. Of course, the Lycan was well nearly a foot over the other male, but there seemed to be an air of killing intent in the room. Perhaps it emanated from the other male; perhaps it was just the stale scent of rusting blood on the walls. Maybe this male was truly some sort of malignant being of death, but it did not matter much to the Lycan. The man would speak with command, asking for Zancrow's name. It was an odd request to the Lycan, but in the given situation there was no time or effort to be smart or witty. Maybe after.

"Zancrow. Zancrow Windcaller. Yourself?"

Zancrow would keep himself to the wall behind him, folding his arms over his bare chest as he had discarded his shirt during his response. There was not much else to think on. Just a response and, hopefully, getting into the thick of things.

As the light swayed he noticed the male on the other side was a bit a taller in stature but not in presence. Roman could tell there was a difference between them, he was a bit more tense. For this it was another day for Roman. However it was on the flip side, he was the victim in this case. It was quite refreshing actually. A nice reminder that he was not on top of the food chain. 'Well, at least not yet.' Roman rolled his shoulders back to wake himself up some more. He knew what the circumstances were it was only a norm that he get the name of his target before going into this. He watched the man run his hands through his unruly hair. At this time Roman was already visualizing how he would dispatch the lad. A sense of blood lust would seep out and could possibly be visibly felt by the other guy. This was okay but it was no secret on what was about to happen. Roman's senses had become focused on the man in front of him. He seemed of a more rugged background which was something Roman was quite familiar with. A lot of men would underestimate Roman because of his clean cut look. This was a fatal error as the saying went, 'Looks can be deceiving.'

Roman himself was no stranger to danger and his hands were already stained with blood of lives long since passed. He could not tell what the male was thinking but he did not look to happy when he was sizing Roman up. He could tell that Roman had seen some shit and that this was not going to be easy. Roman would make sure that the male would not walk away from this without a few scratches. The lad would respond to the request of a name before things would get started. 'Zancrow Windcaller.' A mental repeat of the name to make sure it was remembered. Zancrow kept his back to the wall with his arms crossed. “Roman Astoria” Suddenly the lights would flicker on as a sign that this show was gonna get started. Then the speaker clicked to life for a moment

“I see you are both awake, lets get this show started shall we? Triumph or Die!”

Roman only responded with action. He would only walk forward towards the boy in a menacing fashion. His eyes focused completely on the lad waiting for some kind of action. It was a calm walk with both hands by his sides. They hung loosely by his side ready for any action the boy may take.

No time to lose for both men, so it would seem. The other male appeared ready to combat and destroy with a certain air of readiness; certainly, this was not his first time in a situation to kill or be killed. The man wanted to walk towards his next intended kill with uninhibited menace and wrath. He smelled like a lizard, and appeared like one, too. There was just something about how he looked at Zancrow that made the Lycan curious, for loss of words. This blonde male was a predator, and although Zancrow would meet the man openly as well in the face of combat, he would be wary. As this other male made his calm walk to Zancrow, the Lycan would do the same, matching the man pace by pace in mirrored tandem.

Zancrow would stop only three meters from the man and assume his stance. He placed his feet at shoulder width distance from each other, aligning his left big toe with his the heel of his right foot. The right foot would be pointing more so to the far right but not by too much. His feet were not that wide apart from one another, in case he would have to bob and weave, which he predicted he would be doing a lot of. Zancrow's back heel would be slightly off the ground, his knees were bent; his shoulders and arms appeared slumped and relaxed. His dominant right hand would be at his forefront, covering the good majority of his body that could not be defended otherwise. His left hand would be closer to him, but not outright brushing against the skin of his cheek. The fists of both hands were curled and balled up, the rear hand serving the job of protecting his face.

Mobility would be needed, and even though Zancrow would take this most simple of boxing stances he was prepared to switch at a moment's notice. He eyed the other man and prepared himself for whatever would be thrown at him, and hopefully live to tell about it.

Roman's natural walking speed would have placed him at about seven meters away from the lad before he had even made a movement. Given the situation he had a upper hand of making the first move. He actually gave the courtesy of letting Zancrow take the first shot. He would only continue his casual stroll towards the boy as he began to make his movement. Zancrow would only walk forward in response mirroring his pace. Difference he stopped at three meters. This was not a indication that Zancrow understood the invitation he was giving. So therefore it was Roman's chance to take first blood. Roman's style was flexible, and unpredictable therefore extremely dangerous. He could attack with various methods at his disposal. It had been a while so he had a itch to add some extra spice in this fight.

Roman would not give the lad a chance to set himself for this fight. At the moment of Zancrow stopping Roman's right foot would be pressing against the ground. Using his well trained leg muscles he pressed into the ground, propelling himself moving at five meters a second. So in less than a second he was already upon Zancrow with a open right palm moving at an upward angle towards the boy's neck. With his current speed the palm strike would be enough to knock the lad completely off balance. The open palm strike was aimed directly at the center of the throat. Roman aimed for a throat strike to dampen his breathing ability by knocking on his atom's apple. This could prove as a automatic advantage in this fight. Even if the strike was not dead on the open palm could easily be turned into a grab and the boy would be at his mercy in a instant. Or should he move in a certain direction it could actually end up even worse. Should the boy dodge, Roman would change his actions completely. A  a responding snap of his fingers would occur causing Roman to ignite a electrical discharge that would cover the immediate area.

This was Roman covering all angles of attack that the boy may think of. Of course he would be completely unaware of the possible repercussions of dodging this initial strike. Not to mention Roman's left hand was still free to deflect any attacks that could be fired off from that stance. It was all about timing in the end. Roman was a seasoned combatant. He was curious to see how the boy would react in this situation.

900/900 or 875/900

Spoiler:

The Lycan's blood began to boil, and in what seemed to be an instant, things began to take a turn for the strange. A rage enveloped the man with a tenacity that would almost seem to rival that of the most feral of lone wolves, and in this setting, it would seem that such a primordial sense of violence would overwhelm him. Gone was a sane man who would otherwise have made some simple form of martial arts; now what would be left would only be considered to be a questionable contradictory. Zancrow would hold on to his composure as his body underwent the very fluid and virtually instantaneous metamorphosis into the raging beast that he truly was. Such a transformation was made by the time Zancrow and Roman were only five meters apart.

After this apparent transformation, he would simply open his mouth and howl twice, successively and quickly. His fur would stand on end as he would be enveloped in a bolstered feral rage. After this first howl, he would make a stop. This first howl, in actuality, was made when the two of them were only four meters apart. The strides to go from being four meters to three meters apart would be minuscule and trivial, too trivial for any counter action that would not result in the following action.

His second howl would be the one to yield any sort of projected attack upon his opponent, and it would be for good measure. A cone-shaped blast launched within an instant of the Lycan opening his mouth the second time, sending a shockwave of concussive wind to blast into the man, who would make an attempt to strike forward for the Lycan. No, Zancrow would not make some form of defense, as that was not in his repertoire of abilities to enact. He was short on mana overall, so he would have to keep his opponent on his toes if the fight were to go in his favor. However, it may not be so simple, but with Roman having launched himself directly into the blast of the wind it would mark an uphill obstacle for the Lycan to overcome. All he needed was patience, quick thinking, and a plan.

140 | 200 MP:

Roman thought mid action as he could feel a sudden surge of energy emerge from the lad who he was locked into combat with. Something that he had never experienced before. A transformation bloomed right before his eyes, for any normal person this would be enough to knock them off balance but this excited Roman. He had never experienced this kind of thing first hand, let alone he gets to fight it? Shit man Roman was happier than a man beating a Asian to death with a baseball bat. A since of blood lust would be brought forth in the form of pure ecstasy. However, this sudden transformation would have interjected and created an alternate time-line that would cause Roman to change his initial open palm strike into a defensive measure. Now he would do it would be revealed in a sequence of actions. Two barks would erupt from the lad while Roman closed the gap after the transformation. Considering his movement speed the first bark would go off no doubt. So at the time of the second bark he would have been in full motion. Roman would have been upon the lad so dodging at this range was not a option for him. Now in some cases some would think Roman was at a distinct disadvantage. It was quite the opposite. This sudden transformation and the following of the barks would only cause him to accelerate this fight even more so. He was on a mission to push the lad to his limits. At the moment of the second bark, which would in-fact catch the wolf like being completely by surprise.

Roman's hand right hand that would have been a throat strike switched to a snap. So his hand was directly between them. The electrical discharge that was spoken about before would erupt at point blank. In fact canceling the dog's bark. But wait there is more, in that same instant of negation of the first bark  his own mouth would open up firing off an orb that was aimed at the boy's center mass. Even if the boy tried to move suddenly it could possibly fail. Because his first action was set in the current event of actions. Here is what could possibly happen, Zancrow tries to dodge and Roman clicks his teeth and the orb blows up prematurely and he will get a nice dose of voltage. Or the orb would press into his chest and blow up. It was honestly dealers choice for him. Roman kept his left hand close just in case a fail safe. But he would dash backward after firing the orb putting him back at five meters. He would then run to the left in a circle to see the after math of the initial attack before his next move. No doubt the boy would not fall to such weak attacks but it would be enough to rustle his jimmies a bit.

850/900

Spoiler:

As Roman suspected his accurate predictions would land a hit on the chest of the beast at point blank range. Of course as expected there would be a relational almost instantly due to a multitude of possibilities. The major one being Zancrow's transformation. At that close of a range every single moment would count. At this close of a range Roman was dancing with death. Any wrong move could land a blow that would knock him on his ass. A knee fired up towards Roman's lower abdomen for a chance to stun him. At that range Roman had two options, strike down ward with minimum strength to soften the blow or he could block. There was a third option that would stem from the first option. With his free left hand, he punched downward at the boy's upward moving knee. This would cause yet another ability to activate that would be nearly impossible for Zancrow to deal with. A dragon would fire out at point blank range. It's gaping maw would attempt to snap down on his raising knee and press back down on it to counter act the move. Right after the spell would fire downward, Roman would use his planted feet to step backward and to the left. This was a attempt to reset is stance before going in. This took less than a second to do and no doubt Zancrow would be still reeling back from the serpent biting down on his knee. This should provide a opening that would give him free reign to rain a flurry of punches down on the transformed lad.

He would dash back in this time, leading with a left jab. Considering that Roman was opposite of Zancrow he was aiming at his right lower jaw side. This was a attempt to get a stun in. The jab was quick but carried a lot of power behind it so he would be able to pull it back in before Zancrow could make a reach for it. At the moment that his arm would be retracting he would have been in close combat range again. This time a right lower upper cut would be directed at Zancrow's solar plexus. Should both of these hit it would spell doom for the lad. As both of these would incur a staggered state in a instant. In response to that should both hits connect Roman's hands would move in a rapid punching fashion, aimed directly at Zancrow's upper body. A flurry of punches that could overwhelm the lad's transformed state. Roman was very deadly in the field of battle. Even though he was having fun he had full intent of making this boy feel pain. Even though he wasn't trying to kill Zancrow he was trying to show him there is much he needed to learn in this world.

825/900

Spoiler:

OOC: Confirming hits

The boy did not react properly in time to Roman’s chain of actions. A chain of actions that would spell doom for the lad in an instant. The downward punch would counteract and harm the boy’s knee. This forced it back down to the ground. Due to Roman’s initial actions following up with this he would be able to dodge the cone like bark that would erupt from the boy’s mouth. He would dash back in at the moment of dodging the attack. The left jab that was fired out would meet the right side of Zancrow’s jaw. A punch that would be fast enough and strong enough to rattle the lad’s brain around after the blow. This would act as a concussive nature and reduce Zancrow’s ability to react instantly. A right upper cut followed this punch for a classic one-two combo. The uppercut would press into Zancrow’s solar plexus, Roman could fill the boy’s muscles try to push him back. He would only press harder into them. This would cause Zancrow to be completely out of breath and gasping for some air. But the onslaught did not stop here no. Roman wanted to make sure he would go down at this moment. A flurry of punches would come in an instant. Eight punches to be exact. Each one was aimed at the boy’s upper mid-section. A string of hits that would send the boy flying back towards the wall.

A loud thud would echo throughout the hall as his back slammed into the wall. It would serve as a finishing blow in itself from the impact. Granted Roman was not going for a killing blow, he knew he could not take something like that lightly. He had to overwhelm the boy’s body to get any form of results as seen before when took the spell head on. Roman had won this fight very decisively, with nigh a scratch on him. He knew this would be the outcome because the boy was inexperienced. No doubt this was only the start of his journey and it would be foolish to end it here. “Let us out of here now, or I will get angry. When that happens everyone hiding in this facility will die.” Roman’s voice carried throughout the arena. He made himself very clear and he meant it. He was going to take this boy and get out of here. He would not let them have him for whatever purposes they may have. He could not let Zancrow’s possible potential be wasted in this cell.

Zancrow was no doubt unconscious at this point after that onslaught of moves. Or he would not be able to really move naturally because of Roman’s attacks. He walked over to the boy’s body and slung him over his shoulder. A door would open directly behind the two. There would be no words from the speaker as they exited the poorly lit fighting pit. “See you guys are smart good. You live to kidnap another day.” These words would be a spoon twisting up the soup of fear generated by this man. Roman took the lad outside. He saw a lit house and laid him down on the front porch. Roman would then knock furiously before someone answered. A older male looked outside, he looked up at Roman not knowing what to expect of the shirtless, and blonde haired man. “Do not speak, take this lad in and heal his wounds. Or I will butcher you and your entire family.” The older man gave a nod in response and Roman turned his back to the man to leave. The man’s eyes would widen as he saw the mark of the Phantom lord across his back. He would step over the body of Zancrow and head into the night towards the place where he was staying for the night. ‘Damn I need to put some clothes on before the whole world knows where I am from…maybe I should go back and kill everyone for drugging me. Also they would know what guild I am from. Maybe when I come back to crocus.'

[Exit]

For one reason or the other, the werewolf was unable to counter the opposing man's series of barrages. Somehow he was unable to have much of a defense against it all and was knocked unconscious. It all happened in a blur, and the beast man felt his transformation wear away, and everything seemed to fade to black as his head hit the ground first. He was unable to recall anything that had happened since, although he did come to his senses in the care of an unknown older male. He explained to Zancrow what happened, and the werewolf only nodded before heading out on his own, most likely out of Crocus and to the hometown of his guild.

[EXIT]