Everyone remembers the first time they fought, and died, to Randal the Vandal. There's something different about him: his eyes glow with a ferocious, murderous intensity that no other Fallen has; his gait is a nonchalant swagger that promises you'll get your ass beat so badly you'll need to get it amputated; the way he curls his talons and positions his arms, rippling with lean muscles, at the side of his body, in preparation to rip your Guardian's heart out. Most of all, though, it's the chilling, bloodcurdling aura that radiates out from him--you feel that power surging around him and you know that this is no ordinary Vandal. This is a Destroyer of Gods. That suffocating miasma of raw violence and carnal savagery that flows from his being in sickening waves, that promises nothing but torture and agony, is what separates Randal from the Kells. The plants around him wither away, the light fades in his presence, and the air becomes coagulated. Even Hell would be preferable to going up against Randal.