The Fissure Between Hope And Despair

Just then, it began to rain; starting as droplets, and quickly turning into a shower as he briefly looked up at the gloomy weather that cemented the primordial fear that resided in his abdomen. 

"Kill him, kill him, kill him! Then we get the little princess," Renata leered out as he moved abnormally, lowering his stance as he flicked his arms limply as they began to shift. 

Losing their appearance of arms, his slender limbs shifted into lengthy, razor-linked chains honed for nothing else but maiming. 

The Marquis held no sense of urgency in his smile as he cracked his neck to both sides, beginning to walk towards the knight, as Renata stayed in place, using his range to his advantage. 

I see, Damien thought, the big guy will keep me occupied in the close-range while the runt attacks me with those chains. Pretty damn annoying, I'll say.