Duel:Callamyre v Khitt, Match 4 of the 2023 Titans of Winter Tournament

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Duelists: Callamyre vs Khitt
Duel: Traditional 3 rounds with final defense, 20 minute posting limit.
Stakes: Standard, autohit delivered by winner with allowance for final reply.
Judges: Mahri, Meri, and Quintessa.


West Arena

Large crowds can be hosted here, with ample room in the rise of stone seats. The arena has been restored to pristine condition with beautiful carved white marble archways and pillars. The center is filled with hard-packed earth and lined with fully stocked weapon racks.


Callamyre — The Good Doctor's carriage arrived ahead of schedule only briefly. The carriage itself was made of sturdy charcoal-tinted wood with sculpted jet-black metal framing, with windows featuring a motif of a white sarcelly cross center-stage in a viridian green background, and was being led by a pair of dappled storm-gray horses. The driver wore a matching livery uniform of black and white-green embellishments. Once they arrived, he descended with grace to pull open the carriage door, revealing first a small feline with calico markings and eyes like lambent golden moons. Following in the feline-apparent's pawed footsteps came Calla herself, her left hand momentarily lifted to her brow, her right hand curled around the door for a few beats. As she stepped toward and into the arena, the air grew subtly thicker in her presence, crackling with a sparkling undercurrent of her magick. In place of her usual dressy attire were smartly tailored ebon-threaded pants with a high waist, within which she had tucked a satin-and-lace, billow-sleeved button-up bodice in the same dark hue. Carrying herself into the space with her head lifted higher than she felt confident to assume, her heeled black lace-up boots left hesitant scuffs on the ground, while the calico cat whisked around her ankles. "Lady Jemia," the alchymist began, her voice directed to her furred companion, "please promise me that you'll be on your very best behavior. Remember, this is for Frostmaw." The cat made a sound akin to a mewl of dire offense and left the woman's ankles to prance indignantly ahead as though forging the path for them to take. Calla dabbed at her carefully-plaited coiffure, which rebelled against the humidity into wiry ringlets along her hairline. Thereafter, she smoothed her hands over her hips before flexing and unflexing her fists, then followed after the cat with an amused sigh. As soon as she could sense Khitt's arrival, Callamyre na Trough's chest twisted with apprehension, excitement bubbling up like an overflowing cauldron. Nevertheless, she surged forward, hoping to greet them with a friendly, outstretched hand so that she could assure her newest acquaintance that she was counting on him to 'not let her down,' the reference punctuated by an earnest albeit lopsided grin.


Khitti || A temporary bar and an orb enchanted with the hottest dance music in Lithrydel had been set up on Khitt’s side of the arena where he was warming up for the fight. There, a bartender from the Obsidian Refectory had been serving the redhead shots as the witch removed his suit coat revealing a silky midnight blue shirt beneath, adorned the runed leather gloves from Quintessa, and brought out the planisphere to hover beside him. The bartender let out a sharp whistle at Khitt, holding out the cocktail shaker he’d been messing with towards the witch. Khitt responded with a smirk and snapped his fingers, the shaker setting alight with violet flames. All the while, his usual horde of fans screamed and swooned over him, dancing to the music that played. The bartender poured the flaming drink into several shot glasses, a gradation of colors plucked straight from Cenril’s flag. Once he was ready, Khitt threw his hands up into the air to get the attention of his fans, to which they let out a gasp. A gloved hand moved to his mouth, giving that universal sign to shhhh, and the crowd followed along, hanging on his every movement. The rockstar witch grinned, then quickly went about his business downing every single flaming shotglass in rapid succession and turning them over after he was done with each one. When he was finished, the fans went nuts again, and Khitt threw both of his fists into the air in acknowledgement. As time approached for the match to start, the dance music died and he finally turned to face where his opponent was, and just shrugged at Callamyre with a smirk, “Like I said before, no hard feelings.” Despite his cockiness, he’d still shake her hand, then offered her a pair of fingerguns before taking his place a few feet away.


Valrae || At the motion of one of her officials, Valrae stood and stepped forward to address the writhing crowd. “Welcome to the fourth match of the Titans of Winter!” Her steady voice rose over the noise as she lifted her hand to halt the music. “Tonight, Callamyre will face off against Cenril’s own, Khitt!” She paused as the roar of many voices filled the arena, her lips perking into a slow smile. “Contestants,” Her dark eyes move now to the two that stood waiting at the center of the hard packed earth. It began to rumble as she continued, “You’ll need to be skilled in navigation as well as the art of battle tonight. Mind the traps.” The ground below them would then rise up, thick sheets of clear ice towering around them to form a maze that shifted loudly at random. In addition to this complication, there were faint runes, so pale white that they would be difficult to see in the heat of battle, that when activated they would eject a vicious flurry of painfully sharp icicles. They were on the now slippery floor as well as the walls, dotting the maze without any organization. It would take only the barest hint of motion near them to activate the magic within. Without further ado, the witch drops her hand, “Begin.”


Round One

Callamyre — Khitt's awkward fingerguns would be no match for Callamyre's hyperactive nervous system when it came to this match. They had had their niceties shared, and it was now time to get down to it. As soon as the fight commenced and the ground was split open by sheets of ice, Callamyre found herself considerably pleased — in the pure spirit of the Titans of Winter, or so she had only witnessed from afar before. Now was her chance! The air grew thicker around her in reaction to the environmental challenges she now faced, and her grin took a crooked turn. "Mind the traps!" she parroted with zeal. Her magick was now streaming out of her in all directions, seeking out those traps as well as leaving some of her own between the sheets of ice in this new labyrinth. Searching left and right for the presence now recognized, these tenuous invisible tentacles shifted around the walls of ice as well as through, honing in on that familiar witch. As she searched for Khitt in the maze, she carried herself through it as well, this way and that way, no that way, then this way, the walls danced around in a discordant array, and Lady Jemia slipped in through one corridor, disappearing in the mess of corridors while Calla continued alone. In her wake, though, the alchymist left pockets of space, invisible to the naked eye but functioning as doorways that would carry someone away if they tried to sneak up on her. Calla was certain she'd located Khitt, or did she? The maze played tricks on those ethereal wisps of magick weaving toward the witch, until at last she caught sight of her. Calla suddenly reached forward with her right hand, curled into a tight fist, and the air around Khitt compacted around them at that specific moment, as though the vampire were trying to squeeze him with her very hand.


Khitti || The ground quaked beneath Khitt’s feet as the sheets of ice and their accompanying traps made themselves known to all. “Goddamn it, Valrae,” he muttered to himself as he dodged out of the way of an ice wall just before it managed to cut his entire form in half. Of course, all this movement left him open for Callamyre to seek him out with her magic. Being the sort of creature she was, wielding those magicks, she’d find him first and he wasn’t very pleased with this either. And yet, as he gasped for air, the planisphere that had been floating near Khitt seemed to come apart mid-air, it’s circular parts separating into twin chakram, the wootz steel glowing faintly with the same light magic that he’d shown her recently, the chakrams landing in his temporarily outstretched hands. He took a half-step to the side to catch one as he fumbled it a little thanks to the constricting air around him, stepping too close to a trap rune, sending shards of ice around and through him. With both in hand, he tossed the chakram into the air, the discs spinning, spilling star-like bodies of light around the maze as blood spurted from the various spots where the ice shards had entered and exited his body, the alcohol from before the match thankfully dulling the pain enough for now so that he could do -something- to try to escape this predicament. As his breathing worsened and threatened to stop all together, the stars would explode, giving a deadly display of lights, as well as setting off some of the rune traps with the sheer force of the explosions, hopefully catching Callamyre amongst it all.


Round Two

Callamyre all but cackled with excitement as the spatial forces quickened around her target. That damned chromatic magic, however, was a very clever little trick, and her hazel eyes flashed with haloes of gold. Her smile melted into a smirk as she darted around a frozen corner, hoping to dodge out of the way of the first of those brilliant prismatic lights, as she stumbled back through one of her constructed portals. The freckled planes of her cheeks sizzled as side-stepped the orb at the very last moment, and she cursed out the names of her favored Gods. The wisps of magick recoiled from around Khitt as a reflex, the sensations of that rune exploding around him were felt through to the empath and she twisted instinctively back, unintentionally triggering another rune behind her. The vampire leapt easily out of the way, but she'd lost sight of Khitt in the process, her magick faltering. Again, she sent it out in wandering, weaving tendrils around the icy walls and walkways until it could close in on the redhead again. "Mind the traps!" she taunted. All at once, those tendrils of magick pulled around Khitt, this time carrying glass bulbs which the alchymist released with a twist of her wrists, the noxious liquids splashing in a spray toward him before they coagulated in a viscous netting.


Khitti || Quite suddenly, Khitt was allowed to breathe again and he made a great show of this by inhaling and exhaling like he was in the middle of a panic attack--I mean, he kind of was. Still oozing blood here and there, he stumbled a little as he moved forward through the maze, trying to find that godsdamned doctor when her vials of liquid crashed around him, singeing flesh and hair as the net tried to close in around him. “Not this time!” He shadowstepped through the nearby wall, letting the net fall to the ground where he’d been standing, as he continued through more and more walls triggering more and more traps until it was a flurry of ice and snow around them. He finally came to a stop and let out a ‘tch’, shadowstepping one last time to the top of the wall beside him, so that he might look down on that which both the environment itself, as well as Callamyre had wrought. From atop his self appointed pedestal, he gave a sweeping wave of both arms, letting more of those star bombs dance above wall and path alike, each one powered up and blinking violently thanks to the planisphere chakrams. He threw each one, letting them both pick their own path, each circular weapon colliding into the stars, letting them burst above the arena, hoping to catch the vampire in light again. Meanwhile, he outstretched both hands, letting great arcs of shadowfire seep out from his fingertips, to snake along the floor of the maze, trying to seek out the doctor from the floor, if she would not be caught by Valaane’s light.


Round Three

Callamyre ran through the corridors of ice and snow, dancing around one trap, pierced through with frozen spikes the next, drawing a growl out of the vampire. She stumbled ahead as she pulled the spikes out of her left shoulder and lower-right stomach, the healing process already beginning. There — she felt him move ahead, no: atop! He wasn't within her sights, but she pinpointed him still. As did Lady Jemia, who moved from one corridor to the next, a blur of tortoise-shell-and-white that started to grow in size until it was a monstrous panther, moving at a speed parallel to her vampiric owner's; and like a giant cat, Lady Jemia lowered herself to leap on her prey as Callamyre was doing her very best to avoid those bright celestial bombs to intermittent success, burning, sizzling skin trying to heal itself in random spots around her body as she prowled the halls. She also had to contend with those wicked dark snakes of Khitt's other magic and she staggered forward with the witch in her line of sight once more. "Lady Jemia, no!" she cried out, and the cat moved in and out of visible space in a blink before lunging already toward Khitt with the intent of catching him in her giant claws. The shadowfire licked at Calla's heels, and she sensed the nearest rune trap begin to trigger. Enough games, she mused, brain churning, thoughts at pace. With her left hand outstretched, her magic reached through the space between them, hoping to grab onto the witch and pull him in and then out of space until he was by her side so that Khitt would instead catch the full force of the trap the second it sent those dreadful ice spikes toward them.


Khitti || As he summoned up both purple hellfire and the heavens’ light, Khitt was quite unaware of the cat that had begun to stalk him. When he finally did notice, he turned just right (or wrong in this case) and slipped on the ice beneath him, losing his footing, which seemingly sent him tumbling off the wall. And yet, just as the claws missed him, and he thought he was surely going to hurt something on the way down, he was plucked from his space and settled into Callamyre’s own by way of her spatiomancy. This was all well and good until ice spikes hit him in the back, like arrows launched in a flurry on a warfield. The ice had hit true, Khitt issuing forth an angry growl, mixed with a few bloodspattered coughs. Using all of what was left of his strength, he lunged at the vampire, but ultimately shadowstepped behind her at the last second to grab her around the neck and waist. Regardless if he fully got hold of her, the chakram soon returned to their master, reassembling themselves mid-air in front of the vampire as light swelled around the star-charting mechanism. The light grew and grew, like those many stars that had been unleashed before, albeit much bigger in comparison. Surely, he wasn’t meaning to kill her, right? The light continued to grow and ultimately exploded, just like all the ones before it, aiming to bathe not only their creator, but his opponent as well in the violent holy magic.


Final Defense:

Callamyre's clothing was a spotted mess of burnt satin and lace by this point, and her perfect coiffure was now a tangled mess of curls, a wild halo to match the shape of the gold rings of her eyes. It had been a cat-and-mouse game from the start, but now the final move had been played. Space moved, she moved with it, and Khitt moved in to grab ahold of her behind; she twisted in his grasp, twisting the space around them at the same time. She was weary. Everything crackled and vibrated around her, around them, and then — with a sound akin to a thick piece paper being torn by hand, the air immediately around Calla shifted with glittering light. By the next second, it had hardened into a gossamer-thin, scintillating crystalline barrier. Its only purpose, one last attempt by its creator to protect herself from the vicious divine-touched attack.



Winner: Khitt



Auto Hit:

After the light died away, it left a somewhat healed Khitt in its wake. The dance music from Khitt’s side of the arena started to play again with the announcement of his victory and he released Callamyre for a moment, only to grab her by the hand again and lead her in a mock waltz while she tried to recover from the onslaught of light magic. “Gotta hand it to you, you did well, kid.” He paused in his words as he twirled and then dipped her. “But, I gotta say, kinda pisses me off that I didn’t get one punch in…” It did. It really did. So what does he do? He spun her one last time, releasing her fully, and once she’d spun just right to face him, he’d unleash his trademark right hook, right at her poor face. And with that, he’d shadowstep his way above and over the maze back to his temporary bar and the victory shots that awaited him, and the eventual trip to the healer’s tent to deal with all those puncture wounds in his body.


Callamyre was ready to collapse in Khitt's arms, but moved with the last morsels of grace and took that fist to the face — she did so with pleasure and with pride for her combatant-of-the-night, feeling their "bargain" had been fulfilled. Not to mention, bruises and broken bones were but temporary ailments to a vampire like her, and she allowed herself to 'go down for the count' in a delicate faint on the frozen and fractured ground. For now.