Duel:Belphesius v Sanlig
Duel Info
- Judges: Jerralith, Kuzial
- Stakes: OOCFC It's the final, baby.
- Assigned Duel Details: Ascendi of your choice, all of Hollow is your venue. They have escaped their confines and each blame the other for being exiled, thus each are trying to seal the other away forever.
- Belphesius playing as Arclandon, Sanlig playing as Daedria
- Rd/time: 3rds / 15 min
- Date: 14/12/2012
- Venue: Cenril City
- Decision: Belphesius
Venue
All of Hollow
Belphesius vs Sanlig
Belphesius stares down into the mortal realm from upon on high within the Ascended Plane, scanning the aether for the presence of the damnable Daedria. She shall pay for her sins on this day, never again will she cause them to be locked away. Finally, spotting the accursed female within her Cenril Temple, he descends with the full wrath of a God possessed. Choosing to face his adversary here, in the material plane, where their power is finite, and they may be weakened into submission. Hovering well above the city on gossamer wings which shimmer with divine light, the ancient Ascended being begins a procession of arcane verse which spills forth like a river of mystic might. Words not uttered since before the dawn of man now flow freely the through the air with an ominous grace only such a being could muster. Deft gesticulations of his delicate digits send the seas to move at his command, rising in a great tidal force as his esoteric formulae go to work upon the vast body of water. Surging upward, a massive wave some 70 feet tall rushes onward to overtake the city of Cenril, casting buildings aside like playthings as it finally crashes upon the Temple of Daedria. No thought is offered for the lost souls within the city torn asunder, the millenia would see them reborn... for now only his adversary on this day was of concern. Earth, wood and stone rush inward with intent to pummel the mighty being within her holy temple, though this serves merely an appetizer of Arclandon's wrath as he completes the final stanza of his summonations. The the entire city is suddenly brought to a boil, hopefully rending Divine flesh from bone within the watery confines.
Sanlig , goddess of song, sits upon her throne. She is the picture of serenity, with flowing carnation robes and a golden harp held delicately in her hands. Her fingers dance on the strings, idly playing a tune as she entertains those mortals gathered in her temple. Forces changing in planes above catch her attention though, her tune lulling for a moment as she determines what is happening. The time is short, however, and when she does understand, she acts with a speed that the mortal eye cannot follow. The harp strums again, faster this time, the sound bolstered by the instruments that line the walls of her shrine, all of them beginning to play in response to the goddesses' need. The music surrounds Daedria and her worshipers like a cocoon of light, propeling them sideways toward the very wall of the building. It is that moment that the wave strikes, and as wood and stone are washed away, all that is left is that cocoon, and those within. Daedria unravels the barrier, and begins to play again, her song now soothing, calming, as she attempts to still the waters, and force the temperature to ease. All the same, the steam from the water below that layer affected by her song begins to scald, both her and her mortal followers. Her eyes narrow on Arclandon, and the tune played upon the harp takes on a faster tempo, the notes sounding angry. The screaming mortals begin to move, their scalded limbs jerking in time to the overpowering tune as they walk, entranced, toward Arclandon, kept afloat on a bridge of song. Again the goddess' tune speeds, her eyes focused solely on her foe as she causes the hypnotised men to claw out, meaning to rend him limb from limb if they can which, while unlikely to truly harm the god, is surely enough to distract him from his casting, keepign his attention away as Daedria sings one single note, her voice low. That raw power sends out a wave of force, meant to wind around Arclandon's head, the sound whirling and spinning, rising to deafening volume, enough to distract even the most battle-hardened mage.
Belphesius scowls slightly as notices the ensorcelled cocoon about his target and her mortal follower, though no time is allowed for such petty things as emotion as he undertakes the next phase of his onslaught. A slight laugh under his breath is all that may be heard as the possessed followers make their way toward his position, movements beyond human grasp send him whipping about the various fodder, lopping them in half by mere swipes of his wand. Just as the path of destruction is carved through her floating followers, he comes to realize the true nature of her distraction. Music... the kind only capable from one such as herself now rings through the air, vibrating the entirety of the land as if the earth itself were lofting songs skyward. Feeling the melody seek to rapture his mind, the human-sized pixie thrusts his hands into the air, calling forth upon his near limitless reserves as he summons forth a storm of epic proportions. Clouds billow forth as a thunderstorm manifests from blue sky, lighting streaking across the land in a turbulent sky never seen within mere nature. Thunderous rumblings reverberate through the air, shaking the remaining foundations of the broken city below. Continuing like chaotic drumming of Gods within the sky, the massive echoes finally drown out her accursed song. Finally able to focus his attentions, he directs the lighting upon the Divine figure below, bolts strike forth from countless directions with intent upon frying her halfling form.
Sanlig begins to play frantically, her voice amplified by the harp as she struggles to be heard over the storm. Abandoning that notion almost at once, he song takes on a softer quality as, rather than trying to fight the storm back, she attempts to alter it, undermine the authority exerted by her foe. Faster and faster she plays, as the energy builds more and more around her until, suddenly, the lightning strikes! It is then that the true nature of her song can be seen, for rather than splitting the air with its normal speed, the electricity moves as a man would through water, sluggishly approaching the target. A peal of high laughter interrupts the song as the goddess simply walks forward, shrouded by lightning, her long hair rising to answer the energy in the air. That laugh, however, weakens her song, causing the lightning to move just a little faster than she is expecting, and so with a crack, one touches her harp, shattering the instrument and melting the metal, burning the flesh where it had once stood. Angered now, Daedria begins to sing again, and it is no simple note now, but a high, wordless melody, rising and falling like the wind, while another octave, deeper in her throat, springs up as well. The power that stems from that lower note seems to call the might of her higher tune to it, combining and bolstering, and it is that perfect harmony that soars toward the god of magic, blades of raw sound flashing out to slash and batter, hack and pick, no longer melodious in nature but instead a terrifying barrage of disorienting, painful sound; an attempt to disable the very mind of Daedria's enemy.
Belphesius looks onward at the masterful use of Daedria's chosen implement, indeed he had underestimated this foe and must increase his fervor to defeat the damned Ascendi. A slight glimmer of joy may be seen as her harp it struck by his assault, though he notes her immediate alteration of tactic as lips begin forming once again into song. Knowing full well the power in her divine voice, he reacts quickly with a series of arcane manipulations by finely seasoned digits. A sphere of arcane force develops around the hovering Ascendi as the air outside his protective bubble grows suddenly thin, air rushing away from the two opponents as mystic forces pulls all semblance of the gaseous material from there current positions. Mortals below gasp as the breath is literally sucked from their lungs, blood vessels popping as the entire city of Cenril takes on the vacuum of space. Lacking all medium for transmission of sound, the venue falls deathly silent, her sound borne slashes die mid-flight as the waves upon which they ride fall flat within the void. Having no assistance of sound, the Mage falls upon mere somatic components to create his magical workings as arms move with blinding speed. A large hole begins to open under his targeted foe as the very gates of Hell become cast open beneath her. A flood of demonic creatures begin pouring out from the arcane portal, all intent on nothing less than the destruction of the first being they encounter. Claws, teeth, tentacles, and every possible manner of nightmarish attacks surge forth upon the Ascended being as Arclandon watches from his protective sphere above.
Sanlig feels the vacuum come and, while she needs no oxygen to exist, still finds her words muted. Unwilling to fall so easily to Arclandon's wiles, she begins to simply dance. Lacking the friction of physical air, her movements pick up speed unheard of before as, robbed of her music, she conveys the might of her divine power through her own movements. She sees the beasts arrive from Hell, and begins to flit to and fro, first around one, then the other, creating gravity in this space where none exists, grouping the demons together, their own mass crushing the life from them until, with a dramatic display, the halfling dances upward, shattering through the perimeter of the vacuum, leaving nothing but destruction in her wake. Now on a level with Arclandon, she continues to dance, ensuring that the vacuum cannot pull her back in, and begins to sing once more, strengthening her position and opening a sort of protected tunnel for the rest of her song to travel through, toward the pixie. Daedria's song suddenly drops, a glorious crescendo one moment, a seething whisper the next, low and gutteral, her breath coming in and out in short, ragged gasps that give birth to shreds of might, each one shivering in the air before her like some sort of wispy spirit. Again and again she breathes life to these apparitions until, without warning, the song erupts to its full majesty once again, and the spirit-like shards scatter out before the wave of song, seeking the presence of Arclandon. Each shred of song begins to weave its own tale, its own song as they try to sing into existence a tune of severing, of destruction, of separation of the Ascendi from his own patron, Xalious, and the magical essence over which Arclandon has dominion. Like a pack of insidious wolves, Daedria's song strikes at the very might which made Arclandon ascend, the goddess sparing no effort as her wailing tune urges them on.
Belphesius smirks slightly at the halfling's sudden transition to dance... a crafty one she is. Though his smirk fades rapidly as she dances the mass of his creatures underfoot. Her impressive display of adept grace notwithstanding, the Pixie knows she is certainly up to no good as he ascends the heights to take position within the air. A single swipe sends the air rushing back into the venue as her song resumes, no longer held at bay by his arcane manipulations. Making attempt at a return attack, he begins his own series of chants, attempting to overpower her echoing song with little avail. The power surges into him, before it is suddenly cut off, like a switch had been thrown on his arcane abilities. Words of power ring out one after another to no avail as the canals of power which link him to the divine have been suddenly dammed. Wings suddenly sprint into action, despite his lack of magical power, the speed of a divine creature still lives within him. Diving down toward the earth, the Ascended targets his previously formed hole, seeking it out with focused celerity as his Divine form rapidly disappears into the otherworldly void and thus severing the tie which she'd bound upon his mind.
Autohit
Belphesius relishes his reconnection with the God of Magic as he reaches a calm in, of all places, Hell. Finding a balance within himself, the Masterful mage reaches into the pouch at his side and retrieves the item he'd intended for his damnable foe, the Eye of Sven. The intention had been to utilize this ancient artifact of sealing as he stood over her battered and broken form, though her power and ingenuity had proven too great for such a rewarding victory... he would have to settle instead for a more sneaky and subtle claim upon his prize. Arms begin moving in great sweeping motions before Arclandon as he summons forth Spaciomantic powers reserved only for the most adept, folding space upon itself as he transposes his current position of hell with a far more nefarious location to the direct rear of his opponent. The Eye of Sven is held outward to meet contact with the unsuspecting halflings back, as he offers forth the single word of activation before she's even had a chance to respond. A mighty flash of blinding light, met by a crack which resounds through the land signal the immediate effect of the divine Artifact. The Ascended halfling, goddess of Song and Dance would grace the world with her bardic abilities no more, now trapped for all eternity within the gem held firmly in Arclandon's grasp. A deep sigh is released from the Mage, having finally achieved his goal after so many aeons, and with a blink of light, he's gone; leaving nothing more than the destruction of Cenril in his wake as he returns to the Ascended plane with satisfaction in heart.