A Meet With Xander by Desser

The ledge of the roof was just high enough to cover over Desser as he crouched, his ear close to the stone ridge to hear the rustling below. With his rose thorn plated sword in one hand and his matching dagger in the other, he crept alongside the ledge waiting for the opportune moment to catch his opponent below off guard. Though it proved useless to wait for the mongrel seemed to be lurking just beneath Desser moving at every step he took, as if mocking his moves. He knew he couldn’t creep around for too long, especially if he was going to get some real answers. The messenger’s mask had to be unveiled.
“Come now, Desser. I thought you weren’t afraid? I thought you feared nothing?” the challenger said. The tip of his blade scratching against the stone wall of the building could be heard as he paced back and forth below.
Desser chuckled to himself. “This is a skill tactic, my friend.”
“Skill tactic? Seems more like a conceal tactic to me.”
‘Fine, you win,’ Desser thought. He gradually rose to his height and looked convincingly down to the voice below. “What are you going to do with me once you have me in your range?”
“Why don’t you come down and find out for yourself?” the challenger said with a light smile and readied his sword.
Desser nodded in agreement. He bent his knees slightly and then pushed off in a leap, hurtling over the ledge, descending to the grassy ground, and thrusting into the land onto his feet, his sword too at the ready.
“Impressive…for a human,” the opponent muttered and without hesitation made the first swing.
The two of them danced without form, clashing their weapons to and fro, and throwing in a few gut blows with their elbows or knees. It wasn’t long before Desser realized who this “man” was, or rather vampire, for he wasn’t too superior at hiding his pearly white fangs. They glistened with a sneer at every mark made on Desser by the vampire’s sword, or punch or kick.
They came to a sword cross, both of them not able to break each others force. By now the two of them were tired of sword fighting and unintentionally but simultaneously they backed off and tossed their blades aside, even Desser’s dagger. They stood a few feet from each other, both heavily breathing and eyeing the other for the next move.
“How ‘bout it, Desser? What’s it gonna be?”
“How ‘bout a name?”
“Xander Mason. The pleasure is mine,” he said with a smirk.
Desser returned the smirk as he added a wink, which contained more than what Xander had expected. As soon as his eyelid mounted open, Desser released a hint of his power, an electrical surge reflecting a baby blue that stormed straight for Xander, piercing his chest and tossing him yards away into a field.
“Now that’s impressive,” Desser muttered to himself as he went for his blade and then to see what damage he had done to this Xander fellow.