Noxus: Crumbling Temple

Darius slowed his steed to admire the grand design of the above ground crypt that was Count Vladimir's outer cloister. As he looked toward the imposing temple that contained the last of the hemomancers - his eye caught a shifting figure in left of two bloodstain-glass windows that bracketed the enormous double door.

Darius dismounted, almost seeming to grow taller as he did so; he pressed on, up the grand stairs to the enormous door. When he was so close he was out of sight, several loud thuds signaled the slam of Darius' heavy gauntlet upon the thick door.

Darius eyes narrowed for a moment, "you know who sends me count..." almost as if punctuating the silence, a wind picked up - furrowing his cape as he stood unmoving in the doorway.

"We are gathering forces" he cocked an eye and tilted his head at Vladimir, "you don't seem like much of a fighter, but I suppose the last of the hemomancers wouldn't." His face went grisly dark "no... you're a waste of my time, I will not tolerate cowardice." With a disgusting smirk painted on his face, he let the heavy head of his axe fall to the floor - chips of marble spewed into the air from the point of the pick, and he began to plow a scar into the floor of the mansions foyeur as he turned around and made for the large double doors.

Darius continued to walk away, as though paying no notice to the lacerations coming from behind - until all at once, as though by some rebellion against gravity, he heaved his axe from the ground. He thrust his arm forward as if to hurl the executioner - but in stead used the momentum to curve the blade through the air in a giant arc, spinning on the spot until the enormous cleaver was falling rapidly towards the count.

The three foot blade shimmered against the candles as it whipped through the air, what should have been a killing blow came down echoing the gush of expelled blood through the room. Darius caught Vladimir just above his collar, cutting through his flesh like butter. Bones and sinew popped, like they were screaming in protest as the chop went cleanly through his shoulder, ribs, and was split seconds from striking his heart.

Darius smiled to himself as his wounded prey fell to the floor, but when suddenly his axe fell with it clanging against the floor and smashing into the puddle of blood - spattering Darius in the process. He looked up, and around choking up on his axe as the walls began to fountain a torrent of blood. "SHOW YOURSELF HEMOMANCER!" he howled to the ceiling - when an unexpected slash set him swinging his axe wildly at the empty space next to him. "WHERE AR-" as soon as he saw Vladimir coagulate, he charged like a bull, but stopped short heaving his axe through the air horizontally - set to cleave the count in two.

Darius stood straight-backed, and walked complacently toward his axe. He did not look left, he did not look right, he simply walked across the room, as torrents of blood washed across the floor around him. A slight sense of fatigue could be seen on his face as the blood from his various wounds drained out to join the puddles surrounding him, but the hand was strong and did not falter - stopping to tauntingly adjust his gloves as he stood in front of the executioner, which had hewn itself a niche in the wall, and was suspended about four feet from the ground.