The two men stared at one another, their senses on a knife's edge. If this was a normal circumstance, Cyrdic would be wary but confindent that he could overpower the man. But his Ulric honed instincts made him realize the way he moved, the easy grace in which he smiled, the controlled grip of the man's hand. He was far more dangerous than he appeared. He seemed to be studying Cyrdic as well, though the Ostlander could tell he seemed far too at ease for what was about to occur. 

Maybe if Cyrdic could head inside and beat him to the party. No, that wouldn't work. Perhaps if he could- 

The music started. 

They looked at one another one more time, and then moved. Cyrdic and Rishnekov stepped forward simultaneously. Cyrdic had the feeling that the man wouldn't fall for an easy punch, so he moved forward with his weight but kept his guard up, feinting high then kneeing low. Somehow with a serpent-like grace, the dark man knocked aside Cyrdic's leg with a mere sweep of his hand, his other hand shooting forward faster than the eye could see, grabbing Cyrdic's shoulder. Sigmar he was strong! 

The mercenary pushed forward, grabbing the expensive cloak of his adversary and pulling upwards to lift him off the ground, though Rishnekov snarled and slapped Cyrdic so hard across the face, he dropped him and stumbled backward. It was only on instinct that he punched forward, somehow landing a solid blow on Rishnekov's abdomen, though it seemed to faze the man little. As they traded punches, Camilla and Indendre were the object of the court's eye, the music echoing off the chambers as they watched the two dance. Outside, Cyrdic felt nail-like claws puncture his skin beneath his furs. He only just barely caught the wrist, muscling the hand out of his lower stomach before he was eviscerated. 

"What the hell are you?" Cyrdic growled. 

"You're strong for a human." Rishnekov replied back venomously. "Even stronger than you appear." As if he was savoring the moment of his triumph, Rishnekov opened his mouth to reveal predatory fangs. Horrible realization flooded Cyrdic, and the reason he was fighting an uphill battle became frighteningly clear. They found themselves grappling in a contest of strength. Wolfish ferocity against Unholy might as they each tried to break the other. 

Slowly, all too slowly, Rishnekov's unlimited stamina began to win. Cyrdic felt his grip on the Vampire's wrists slipping, and even the strength Ulric had granted him was waning in the face of this monster's will to feed. The dark regent opened his mouth once more, fangs protruding as his face inched toward's Cyrdic's exposed neck. Until Cyrdic felt the warmth of one of the balcony brazier's behind him. He did what Rishnekov did not expect, buckling under the force and using his weight against him, going under and then pressing up with his massive shoulders, sending Rishnekov end over end to fall into the flame. 

Rishnekov shrieked, his skin instantly catching fire as if he was laced with black powder, his dark suit lighting up in a parody of oil on water. Cyrdic did not have time, he grabbed the Vampire's kicking feet and pushed them upward, sending him falling to a fire death into the darkness below. Behind Cyrdic the curtains opened a moment later, and the Servant walked out with drinks. "Herr Reiner I..." he began, looking about. "Where is Regent Rishnekov?" 

"He went back inside." Cyrdic said, trying not to appear too out of breath, holding a hand on his disheveled mane of hair. "Could you fetch my wife?" 
[@Penny]