Been around long enough t’ know one when I see one.

Y’ve got the stench of demon blood about you.

A devil hunter. .

The refined metal bit deep into the knight’s ancient armor. Reynauld took the blade in his collarbone.

In that same motion, Reynauld smashed the end of his mace into the Sergeant’s foot, shattering the bone into splinters.

As for the second one, nerves were getting the better of him. He was trying to reload his pistol, hands shaking in fear.

They were not equipped to fight a hulking monster.

Suddenly, the Sergeant came flying at Reynauld with his sword raised.

“DIE!”

>>

The Sergeant glares at the retreating men, eyes like piercing daggers.

“Yellow-bellied cowards!”

His roar echoed down the alley, followed by the sound of his saber leaving it’s scabbard.

Reynauld’s eye shifted to the blade. Then back to the man.

>>

A damn downpour, that’s what it is.

Reynauld caught him by the collar of his coat with his gauntlet, lifted him up as if he were a sack of grain, and slammed him onto the pavement, knocking him out cold.

One down, four to go. .

Two bounced off of his armor. One caught Reynauld in-between the plates of his armor, digging into his scaled flesh. They managed to halt his advance, but only for a moment.

He corrected his stride, and, in what seemed like an instant, lunged towards the closest guard with an inhuman speed.

>>

Reynauld didn’t even flinch from the shot. There was a mark on his armor where the lead ball had shattered. He just kept coming towards them. .

“Abomination!”

The Sergeant roared, looking to his men to steel their hearts.

“Fire! Fire at will, boys!”

Three more shots rang out.

>>

Kneeled next to a creek, the knight’s helmet sat by his side. Reaching down to partake from the flowing water, he froze as he saw his reflection.

He saw a monster looking back at him.

He had sought light all his life, but he could not escape the darkness.

Every look back yielded the same result. Trees. Shrubs. Green. Nothing but forest. Except. . for a moment, it looked as if there were someone there. Another look back and he was gone.

Something seemed to move amongst the trees.

Something big.

The youngest guard caught a glimpse of Reynauld’s form in the moonlight. That lone yellow eye seemed to pierce straight through the guard. Fear washed over him.

Panicking, he leveled his flintlock and fired. The bullet slammed against his breastplate with a sharp crack, sending sparks flying.

The sergeant of the squad barked aloud, hand flying to the hilt of his saber. Reynauld was roused from his thoughts at the noise, finally turning to look at the men.

They had began to spread out, surrounding the knight. It was five to one.

>>

Magic. Not the first time Reynauld has run into such a thing. Certainly not the last. A demon like Reynauld had a keen sense of magic. He had a weird feeling about this stranger, couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Now he knew.

“Halt! By the order of the Lord Regent!”

>>

// i gotta do a no helmet sketch. I gotta. That is, if I can kick myself into doing it lol.

// I should try drawing reynauld again tbh.

“You might want to get a move on, stranger. I’ve got a feeling they’ve been tailing me for a while,” he rasped, reaching for his weapon. A heavy, two handed great mace.

Reynauld was expecting a fight.

Reynauld looked over his shoulder at them before turning back to the masked stranger. The guards were looking for them, there was no doubt about that.

If they saw some hulking knight, there was also no doubt they’d think the same as the Masked Felon.

More of a beast than a man.

>>

Reynauld stares back.

“Not much for talk, are you?” A rhetorical question.

A rat scurries it’s way past the two and into an alleyway, followed by the sound of laughter and footsteps. A squad of City Watch guards.

>>

Wash away the sorrow all the stains of time
But there’s no memory it's only dry inside

“You’re the one from the posters. The felon. With a weapon like that, you seem more like an assassin to me.”

A lone, yellow eye stared back at the Masked Felon — pupil like that of a reptile. The knight must’ve been seven feet tall. An inhuman stature.

“Easy.”

He spoke gruffly, eying the man’s sword. A short blade, not suited for long fights, but still deadly in the right hands.

>>

The first thing Reynauld notices is the familiar mask. Intricate. Shaped like a human skull. Would shake the boots of any normal man.

Reynauld is anything but. He is a man trapped between two worlds, one of the living, and one of the infernal.

>>

Reynauld had stuck to the shadows so far. Drawing attention from the City Guard would only have less than favorable results. So, he opted to take the less traveled route.

Little did he know it would lead him here. . under somebody’s watchful eye.

The air smells of ozone, salt, and the ever-so slight hint of rotting fish. Beneath the knight’s boots lie the slick, whale oil-stained cobblestones of Dunwall.

Here, he sticks out like a sore-thumb among the grim, industrial decay of the Empire of the Isles.

>>

I live. . again!

MOST of the time he’s usually got his helmet on. He doesn’t like to show his face, considering he’s kind of an undead demon. Of sorts.

> | faceclaim | <

Probably going to just stick with Guts until I can find something more suitable, we’ll see.