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			Damn. Just got back too. Sorry guys! Have a wall of Text as a sorry.
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</blockquote><br/>Leonard has a venerable hacking fit as blood and mucus splatters all over his face. To his credit, his eyes show the horror of what he beheld well enough to make up any failures his covered head could not.<br/><br/>And what a horror it was.<br/><br/>Memories, long buried beneath prayer and meditation, brutally rupture the subconscious. Screams and laughter, flash-backs to snapshots of evil, all of it.<br/><br/>And Leonard screams, pissing himself in terror.<br/><br/>Scrambling to his feet, Leonard brought his shield up quickly, slamming it against his dopplegangers sword-arm. The blood-red demon laughs, a sick, wet thing, as Leonard grabs for his sword, and leaps to his feet. His cross-guard comes up in time to block a downward slash, and Leonard counters with a quick headbutt, before shovering his shoulder forwards. His attack was anticipated, however, and a knee to the chest heralds a pommel to the back of his neck.<br/><br/>Leonard stumbles, his eyes going wide as he sees a metal-plated knee fly into his face, and the crack of teeth splintering is far more painful than it sounds. The stunned knight swallows his chipped teeth, unable to spit them out, and not wanting to risk inhaling them. He embraced the pain, thankful that it got his mind off of the corrupting presence of this... Thing, before him.<br/><br/>The two collide in a flurry of blows, both parties coughing up thick ropes of phlegm and blood as they fight. Leonard to his credit, scores multiple slashes upon his dark imposter, but for all his skill, he cannot compete against a clone with far more strength and stamina, without the earlier fatigue.<br/><br/>Leonard drives the pommel into the demons face, before pivoting on the ball of his foot expertly and raising his shield, staving off a savage hammerfist, but unable to account for the side-kick that sends him skidding with a shower of sparks across the floor.<br/><br/>Coughing and wheezing from the constant fighting, Leonards lungs ache as his vision swims, the phlegm in his lungs starving him of oxygen and air. He gasps, desperately, from beneath his woolen mask, the sweat of the constant fighting stinging his eyes. He drags his shield closer to him, his swordarm heavy under the uncompromising weight of the armor.<br/><br/>He is jerked backwards and up, looking up into the flaming eyes of some eldrich monster from his own nightmares. Leonard wants to scream in terror, he wants to run and hide, he wants to void his bowls at what he stares at.<br/><br/>His lungs are too weak to manage more than a strained cough from the rough handling, his legs refuse to move, so tired is he, his shit and piss already soils the inside of the armor, his knees soaking in the stuff.<br/><br/>With a weak gurgle, he watches as the creature raises its blade up, ready to end him, then and there. Atleast he would die knowing he had given atleast this small goodness to the world, that his death had some meaning. Now he could, perhaps, move on to the torment that awaited his wretched soul.<br/><br/>He hoped his death would give peace to those he had hurt, wherever they were.