[Galefore]

OoC: Alright, if this doesn't quite fit your setting, just tell me.

In the fierceness withheld in the eyes and heart of a somber warrior, there is a remorseful glare that peeks behind the threshold on sanity and biting and hard insanity. A song, perhaps of silent contempt, plays and flutters about with the intensity of the suns glare, and this song sings, ‘I have seen the other side, where fire burns and incinerates, and that side doth hold my fears, where I hope never to pass into Hell’s gates.’. This song summarizes the fear that had locked itself within Galefore’s heart and soul; he gave up his chance, and repented. Now, he stared down this cathedral, where he came not to fight a normal battle, but to fight a battle of chance. He had never hoped, by any means, to find such alienation, when he was a child, but as the elemental he was, a battle here and there in despair and seclusion was impossible to avoid. Thus, Galefore had his reason now, and he had felt the presence belonging to his opponent, which he felt so inclined to ignore. Architecture and silence, two marvelous things, met here in this Catholic Church to create beauty.

But, as known by the observant and intelligent, Galefore was not of a silent remorse. He had a veteran of war’s look to him, and he seemed a bit shaken by sights and sounds, but Galefore was far from silent. He carried about his personality a cocky idealism, which he always made painfully clear and loud. In this cathedral, however, he was reverent, and he was not to be cocky and evil here. Though his own Christian faith was not of Catholic sort, the element of Lightning still found this place suitable to pray to his God and Savior. Galefore kneeled, silently and quickly, and then rose, a glint of a smirk on his worn face. He sat on a pew deep inside, and then hoped to see his opponent. He had, in fact, just missed him on the way in.

After a few minutes, he rose to explore.

He admired the inner church, his eyes scanning the pulpit and the seating, and his mind audibly admiring the architecture through a series of ‘wow’s and ‘huh, cool’s.

“So, a battle here would be sacrilege? Hope it ain’t gonna happen.” spoke Galefore, his mid-pitched voice echoing through the empty hall.

“Anyone here?” No answer, despite the red-eyed one’s presence.

“Well, no-one’s here, it seems. Better get outta here.” Thought the lightning master. He began to let his eyes wander about as he spoke, almost in a whisper, those words.

Galefore mutely checked his cumbersome equipment. His sword was in perfect condition, and he ran his hand down its silver blade. He had brought with him, at least this time, a Katana instead of a scimitar or claymore. The katana was his newest weapon of choice, and his spear was his backup weapon. The spear, three pronged and jewel encrusted, was motionless, despite it’s seemingly impatiently made holster, and its loose position. Galefore held his hand up, checking for electrical current and useful objects that conducted electricity, and then he stood up and walked back outside.

He waited there for an opponent’s attack, as if he, the mustached one with the shoulder length black hair, expected an unwelcome fight, in which he would fight in the steeple of a church, with giant bells and beauty…