The axe felt uncomfortable in his hand, but in the face of danger, he didn't care. Night swung vertically, keeping his shield closer to his body, as he anticipated the counterattack from the man in black.

Edmund hung back a little bit from the main fight as he watched. He had wounded the man with the shield, now it was time to hurt the man in black. Wounding the man in black would require patience and careful watching because the man in black did not fight like Edmund fought. Taking the man in black by surprise was probably his best option as he was both slower and less flexable then the other. Plus, right now the man in black seemed rather focaused on the man with the shield.

Skoll brought both blades up to parry, but the force behind the axe sent him staggering several paces backwards. Without much thought, he switched his right hand's grip on the blade and threw it, then flew after his own blade.

When the man in black threw his blade, Edmund moved in. A swift attack to the general area of the torso was all he had time for and Edmund drew back cursing. He was pretty sure he had missed completly, the man in black was faster then he had originally thought.

He stopped the axe as it finished a 205 degree arc from behind him to straight above him. From there, he parried the thrown blade to his feet, (hopping back) and swung down to attempt to break the blade.

Skoll tripped and nearly impaled himself on the blade as the gray-haired man's sword flashed out in front of him. He saw the descending axe and from the ground swung his remaining blade out weakly to block. The impact numbed his arm, and as he pulled himself upright on the wall, Skoll nearly dropped his weapon. The billowing but ragged cape now draped over a single shoulder; the leather straps had been cut.

Skoll glanced down. First the first time in a while, his eyes weren't the only thing drenched in red.

As the axe touched the ground, he noticed the handle cracked and would break if he made another direct blow like that. His arm felt weaker than before as bandage began to stain a darker red. If he didn't want to die, again, he needed to finish quickly.

((You do realize what I was referring to, right, Funk?))

((the cape went from one shoulder to another? XD...*reads more*...oh, you got cut in the chest. ok, but the axe still touched the ground. Its handle it too long.))

((....-facepalm- Edmund actually hit Skoll, who's bleeding heavily.))

((I thought she said he missed...XD))

(I said he thought he had missed. I left it up to Espy weather or not his guy was actually hit though.)
Edmund was surprised when he saw the blood coming from the man in black's shoulder. His attempted attack had aparently hit. First blood was his, now could he keep it that way?

The second thing that Night noticed was that the man in black was bleeding, and his blood wasn't on his axe. How dishonorable he thought, looking towards the criminal who had done such dishonor. To do such harm, while his opponent wasn't looking, only made Night incredulous to the man's actual strength.
"I'm afraid that our fight will have to postpone, quick one," he called to the man in black. He slid his shield further up his arm than before and grasped the axe with both hands. Even if this weapon breaks, that man must be slain... "For the honor of ODIN!!!" he cried while charging the scythe-wielding man, circling right (around the man in black in case he had any ideas).
...But as he charged he aimed to strike through the man and head towards his hammer, just in case the axe broke...

Are the both of them idiots?! Who cared about honor in a real fight? Skoll had always done whatever he could to win a battle; this was no different. His wound wasn't because of cowardliness; rather, he cursed his own ignorance of whatever was behind him.

Maybe he'd take a few breaths before trying to finish them off. Or perhaps they'd kill each other.

((You see, Funkie, at least you've some form of honor >.>))

((Are you saying that I think I have no honor?? XD))

((EDIT: Hey. Let's have the winner of this one choose the next area. Valhalla isn't just a chaotic arena, you know. ;D))

Edmund heard the shout and drove his weapon into the ground. It work as a barrier between himself and the oncoming weapon. The axe met Edmund's weapon and the wooden handle shattered sending wooden shrapnel deep into Edmund's body. The thousand little bolts of pain were enough to make him double over, almost causing his head to be taken off by the axe head. The axe head still nicked his arm though causing a large ribbon of blood to flow from it. He silently cursed his choice of armor, it was light but it offered no protection.

Edmund righted himself though, still alive and said, "What is honor in the face of battle? Honor will get youself killed. Our other opponent understands this, so the only way to beat him is to have no honor yourself." Edmund was under no illusion he would survive this battle as he had just been severly wounded.

((Go ahead and post, Funk; Skoll isn't gonna do much other than stand around for another couple of posts or so. Unless someone charges at him.))

Slipping past the warrior, Night found himself with a broken piece of wood in his hands. Turning to face the warrior, he said, "Honor is all that is had. If one does not live by honor, it is no test of strength. Play your tricks, grey reaper, and I will fight them with the strength of being, and with honor!" He then threw the pieces of wood at the man to buy time and scrambled to find his hammer.

Edmund avoided the thrown wood, not wanting even more wood stuck in himself. It agitated the current wounds he had but it was not bad enough to have him give up. Edmund found the other's speach funny and gave a little laugh, "And people wounder why no one fights with honor any more. Those that have a code of honor are fools." Edmund noticed that he was inbetween both man in black and the man with the shield. The man with the shield was looking for something though and not paying much attention to either Edmund nor the man in black. Seeing this as his chance he went if for the kill, intent of simply beheading the man with the shield while he was looking for his weapon. It left him open to the man in black though and Edmund was sure if the man in black saw the opertunity Edmund's blood would join the others on the floor of Valhalla.

Night nearly had to bear-crawl at times while he weaved through the chaos looking for his weapon. Left; no hammer. Right; no hammer- and then he saw another nameless warrior try to pick it up. He was scrawny and looked more fit to hold a bow and arrow than a war-hammer. He was glad that he was already running towards him, because other-wise, that one would have surely been beheaded while trying to pick up the weapon. He went from jog to full-sprint and slid as he snatched the hammer from the scrawny kid.
"The battle is not kind to those without haste," he told him. From the corner of his eyes, however, he knew he may have to heed his own advice as he instinctively raised his shield to the bloody hurricane.

((and the bloody hurricane would be you, DFL, whether as a kenning or a literal hurricane, you may decide))

Skoll, having caught his breathe, winced and yanked his blade from the wall, where'd it had been stuck after he'd thrown it the first time. The effort made a fresh wave of blood well up from the long gash. Somehow, he'd have to help the scythe-wielding man defeat the warrior; there was no way Skoll could take the red warrior on by himself, but maybe he'd have a chance against a weakened newcomer once the strongest one was down.

Edmund had lost sight of the shielded man, so he simply sliced though those who were in the general direction of him. He took note of which attacks agitated his wounds the most and carefully avoided his cripled arm. The thick coat of blood on Edmund when he finally reached the man with the shield was no longer his own. Edmund was miffed to see that he had reached the shielded man to late, as he had repossesed the hammer.

Edmund's sword met the shield with a clang. The shield saved the shielded man, but the skinny man beside him was not a lucky. Edmund kicked the shielded man aiming at the knees. He hoped to knock him down as to quickly end the man's life.

As sword met shield, Night's legs began to shake. Is it too la- CRACK. A swift kick to his knee bent his leg backwards, without the proper support. He lost too much blood, and he buckled to one with a scream. "RAARGH!" he yelled, as he used his strength, or what was left of it, to throw a blow from his hammer to the man's shoulder, attempting to break it. Thoughts of honor no longer prevented him from reaching the conclusion, that if he missed now or was blocked successfully, he just might die again.

The hammer crushed his already injured arm. It was now completely useless, Edmund spared it a glace and was privately amused at how the knife had warped to match the crushed arm. Quickly returning to his attention to his original prey Edmund drove his sword into the man before him, not paying much attention to where.

and the sword drove into Night's shield arm and shoulder, rendering it useless. As the sword hit the ground, Night yelled again flexing his neck in pain, but it was stopped short. Blood oozed out of his makeshift bandage, onto his shirt. He knew that he was too soon to be done for to deal with the man in black. He had no more strength to muster upon as he let his hammer fall to the ground, and his vision began to tint a dark crimson...is this the end? he wondered in dazed agony...It's not the end if you fall here, said an alien voice. Remember that your will is your own, for this is Valhalla... The voice faded as his vision came back to hint, now tinted a lighter color. Though it seemed like a minute or to, it must have been less than three seconds as he heard the hammer hit the floor. With renewed strength, he threw a punch to the grey reaper's neck.

The sudden revival of the fallen man was a surprise to Edmund and the attack hit. It dazed him slightly but not enough to put him down thankfully. Edmund staggered back and glanced warily at the man who he had thought beaten. He seemed renewed and envigored, if his eyes did not decieve, then this would be his end.

Looking at the staggered man only a few feet ahead of him, he tried to give chase but was met with pain as he tried to move forward. Night grinned: "This isn't the end you know, grey reaper, though you look much more reddened, now that my blood clouds me. We will meet again." He said as he moved forward and crashed to the ground, a white plume appeared over his body...and it slowly began to fade among the other bodies leaving a sturdy shield and a heavy warhammer.

Edmund stares at where the body had been for a while before disolving into a coughing fit. Blood came from his throat and he gave rough laugh. He was hardly a grey reaper as the other had put it, he was more of a red punching bag. Edmund stood very still, trying to asses his wounds. He knew the man in black was still out there and very much alive, he still had to defeat that man before he could lay down and wait for oblivion to rescue him.

((Wow, you two got pretty far >.> Back from my shower, anyways.))

Skoll watched from the sidelines, mentally willing his wound to heal, then strode slowly over to the remaining fighter.

"Your choice. I could finish you here, or we could fight." It was the first time he'd spoken since this second warrior had joined the fray, his own low and slightly rasping voice sounding strange as it echoed back from the tall gray walls.

"We fight." Edmund said. He would not just allow himself to be killed like a lamb to the slaughter! Edmund was heavily wounded and his right arm would be rather useless, but it only took one good hit to down a man. He dropped his sword and took one of the knives from his waist into his hand. The sword and scyth were both too bulky to properly fight the man in black.

Ignoring the throbbing wound, Skoll took a step back. What, does he plan on killing me with just a knife? He brought both blades out in front of him. This man...his moves are so hard to anticipate.

Edmund then look a highly calculated risk. With his broken and useless arm out in front of him as a shield, he charged the man in black hoping to take him by surprise. If his plan worked, he would just have a few more injuries to loose blood from and the man in black would have Edmund's knife through his heart.

Skoll blinked. From the front...? He awkwardly threw a blade with his right hand, hoping that it would stop the man before he got too close...

-shunk-

With his left-handed blade still almost parallel to his crossed arm, Skoll glanced down as the knife buried itself up to its hilt in his chest. His reaction time had been too slow. Too weak to attack with the one blade, he crumpled slowly to his knees, dragging his opponent down as Skoll tried to hold in the knife with his right hand. Pulling it out would've meant a quick death from blood loss, but even now a crimson stain was darkening the already blood-dyed shirt.

((What happened to the blade he thres is up to you.))

The thrown blade buried itself into Edmund's lung. Well, that is were Edmund assumed it was because he was not dead yet. His vision darkened and Edmund fell backwards. He grasped the knife, its hilt slippery with his own blood and pulled it out. Ripping out the knife caused the blood to flow all the more quickly. One short gasp was all Edmund had before he passed out and shortly afterwards died of bloodloss.
http://i1141.photobucket.com/albums/...yer3TheEnd.png

Edmund's body then disolved into ashes and was quickly scattered by the wind. Leaving only his weapons to watch where he had fallen.

((Okies, will have to wait on Funkie because Skoll is about half a minute away from dying.))

(Okay. Do we even know what happens when someone wins? 'Cause me and Funky are dead making you the winner by default even if you are a minute away from death's door.)

(give me a few minutes to throw out the storyline from my mule. Would you prefer to go to Freya or Odin?)

(:confused: Ask Espy while I go chase my brain down.)

((I just realized that Skoll's name fits the setting XD And...neither, really, because of the wolf's nature, but I'll choose Freyja for her sorcery.))

((As you wish))
Two more feathers appeared along with two more sisters, unseen
Thouh weary from work, they took their souls from the dirk,
so that they were stripped from the body; they were still unclean
And improperly readied, to be readied though, for Freya's work.

"Awaken. Awaken, souls of Odin. There is no need to fight here, for a new master of fate you must serve, lest you do not be given your wish." She spoke in a strong acient voice that seemed odd to here from her. The heroes (Skoll, Edmund, and Night) 'wakened in the arms of the Valkyrie, unarmed and unaware of their sorroundings.