Duel:Ekodas v Jacklin

Jacklin looks onward to her opposition with a tinge of discomfort, unseen on her outlook. His frame being calculated in terms of actions against him, it was not often the human faced such a strapping creature. Unsheathing her newly forged spear fluidly and planting it into the ground at her side. Uabhasach being of the same make as Perfidelis but darker and stronger in cast, also unblemished by the dents and dings of battle. Scratching with nude footing at the soil below with toes acting as talons would, settling her stance into battling position. The form-fitting gown was hiked up and tucked into a coarsely fashioned belt, knees fully unhindered now. The beginning motion was in her corner, lips drawn into a humble grin while eyes lit up from the excitement of returning to her core existence of life, fighting. In her right hand she held an ordinary bottle of some alcoholic beverage of another. The corked liquid swung upwards and jostled around in her hand, lifting it analytically up to the moonlight. Releasing her hold on the spear she took a step back, focus now returning to the overbearing beast before her and the meaningless bottle settling into her right hand. In one rapid movement her back leg was thrust forward and planted firmly ahead, the action giving her right arm enough momentum to pitch the bottle upwards and over to where Ekodas would be standing. Within the next seconds the necromancer rotates her palm upwards, brow tendrils had begun to spider outwards until reaching the tips of her fingers. Directing her aim at the bottle, which was just about to sail over the trolls head, she discharged a measly fireball. One of the few skills she’d kept up from the dark arts. The release was true, fire meeting alcohol and combusting in a fiery display. Scorching remnants and smoke raining down from the sky, branches and leafs immediately alight only to join the other falling debris. The umbrella of smoke and red would blister and catch the mighty creature ablaze were he too sluggish, or blinded from smoke, to find an exit.

Ekodas exits the tavern with an arrogant stride, having already tested himself in battle today he is more than confident in being victorious against the man’s servant. His flesh shows the marks of his early dance with the deceased vampire; one arm hangs loosely, his flesh is already covered in a wicked tapestry of semi_healed burns that vary in intensity. As the bottle is hurled the troll’s brow furrows in confusion – having spent most his life under various bridges he is unused to the strange actions of these surface dwellers. He watches with an almost detached interest as it soars through the sky, before the fireball strikes true and he stands under a rain of flaming liquid. A curse resounds; rather insulting to humans, before the troll covers his head in his good hand and stands still, his body very soon raped by the falling fiery fluid. He screams, agony awash in the sound, as the fires eventually die out, leaving him once again covered in horrendous wounds. In his weakened state he can feel the twisted essence of Jesserios swirling though his body; the troll having eaten the former King of Larket, The former Lord of the Obsidian tower, just hours beforehand. His face still looks demonic as his own corrupted, green blood has mixed with the sanguine vitae of the slain monarch and stained the already ugly troll’s face. He grins, then; the look grotesque, before the warrior draws forth energies from The Amulet of Coreliant, stolen when the vampire was devoured. Using arcane energies usually declined to the wounded warrior, he takes advantage. His limited knowledge of the subtle nature of arcane energies means he is only able to create two fireballs. But they are beautiful as they float with an almost sentient grace, languid as if dancing to music unheard. Tendrils of ebon smoke dance into the sky as they sit stagnant, before, with a wild gesticulation, the troll sends both balls hurling at Jacklin, their intent to burn away the flesh of her face and hopefully blind the powerful woman.

Jacklin was most pleased with her fireworks, so to speak. The frenzied dance of the troll and scent of burn flesh, even more potent than a humans, a sight the human found humorous beyond all else. The crackling remains of her work cease to exist just as the trolls orbs are borne into creation. Cranium tilted hesitantly, the smoke wavering up into the atmosphere causing the warrior to shift in place. And at their release, she reacts. Too slowly it would seem as a leap away proves faulty and instead of the menacing fireballs catching her face aflame, her chest takes its place. The searing heat and utter force are enough to drive the lithe figure of the warrior back along the path and frantically rolling about in order to douse the painful flames. Jacklin remains in her reposed state, staring up at the starry sky, beneath her tattered gown lay already-puss spewing sores and crevices of crimson. Leaning over she grappled onto the upper portion of her spear, luckily her hold hadn’t reached the apex and further harmed the human by burying itself into her hand. Yanking the thin utensil from it’s nest in the ground took no effort. The exaggerated force she’d anticipated for the event causing her to stumble back clumsily. Regaining a semblance of composure, her firm stance again defined. The ebb of pain having ran a single course, the elder never one to heed the shock of injury on her figure. Ekodas again become the target of her visceral vision, cobalt pools narrowing in an act of pure aggression. Uabhasach was lowered again to her side, resting just shy of her knee with tip pointed in the large mans direction. Signs of weakness were not something he permitted, his hulking self looking more like a boulder than an actual fighter. Though within the abstract section of her being, she knew one thing. A weakness that most people, human or creature, had. Jacklin would literally ‘run’ with this idea. The resonation ‘snap’ of footed flight came, the pounding rhythm of thudding bare feet against lax, trodden soil was a indication of her movement well before she was seen blazing across the path. Distance was timed perfectly, ample space projected to allow a near breaking pivot of ankles to the side of the troll. The Executioner was now at his backside, knowledge of his sluggish ways being another flaw he’d created for himself, where she’d dropped to one knee. Before the troll could turn to see where the human had gotten to, Jacklin would bring Uabhasach around only to aim the crown at the soft flesh behind his knee and drive the spear upwards. A most guttural groan churned thru clenched teeth, putting a majority of her learned skill behind the drive. It was an area she assumed to be one of the only fragile points on the beast. If her prediction was false, the spear would be bent badly. Though if her predictions were correct, the troll would be missing the power of competent mobility for awhile.

Ekodas moves far too slow to begin to dodge his skilled opponent’s wild attack. The tip of her odious weapon soon lavishing its sadistic attention upon his knee; easily it tears through his disgusting skin, lacerating through tendons and ligaments with an arrogant ease. Within moments the troll has released another scream of agony, his leg soon torn free of the weapon by a wild stride that results quickly in him falling onto his back. He reacts quickly to this, though, clawing himself back onto his one good leg within moments. In his heavily wounded state; burns on his flesh, his shoulder all but ruined, his knee now all but ruined, the crippled warrior can again feel the pull on his soul as the body incarcerated within, that being Jesserios, attempts to struggle free. Perhaps it is the use of his Ascendi_cursed weapon that brings forth the fallen monarch, but regardless the warrior is barely able to deal with the struggling powers within. So instead he turns his head to the side and vomits up part of the slain king. It is his arm; it still wears the rings that mark him as royalty. A small shake of his head is all that heralds the troll’s next move: Ekodas bends down, picks up the arm and using the wet end he traces an intricate pattern into the well trodden ground below. It is obvious, by the look of surprise that adorns the ugly one’s features in wake of his drawing, that the archaic picture at his feet was drawn more by the powers of the Ascendi than by his own will. Regardless, the pattern’s effects take just a moment to become violently obvious. From the ground below a surging, swirling mist has begun to pour into the wretched world, eventually taking the form of Jesserios. It is his shade, the shadow that once walked the void but is now damned to walk this world as his soul takes its place. With another wild gesticulation the troll sends the shadow warrior hurling at Jacklin, its sadistic intent not even known to Ekodas: It seeks to tear free the soul of Jacklin and damn it to stalk between worlds as it takes her place in the void, upon the Road of Souls that leads to Paradise. In the wake of his attack Ekodas again falls onto his side, his bulk far too much for him to balance on one leg without both his arms to guide him..

Jacklin again was jolted with the mirth of landing a blow. Surprised to see that the witless troll would continue to battle in such a potiable state. It was not her choice though, she needed this battle. She was not, of course, expecting the next course of action. The troll beginning to scrawl foreign signs into the earth with none other than the arm of the King. The belching sound he’d made was obviously done to expel a part of the damned King, how repulsive a move. Following the troubling painting of the troll came an even greater woe, the shadowed appearance of her former King. This troll be damned! He knew what a weakness this would be for the aged warrior, a foul trick indeed. As the image of Jesserios raced a path towards her she rose to her feet. Unable to compile thoughts into a single defense, her mind had completely lost its will to function in this situation. And so, with no other options, she allowed him to seek his target. Bracing herself only with the spear and level footing. Jesse slams with a sudden physcial force into Jacklin’s figure, hurtling her across the pathway and into the exterior wall of the Tavern. Such a simple attack for a most vile puppet? No, as the female lay slumped against the wall it became clear what the effects of the attack had been. Skin began to chill over, becoming a most hideous shade of blue. Her movements frozen by the weight of Jesse near here again. The protecting factor in the attack would again be her fathers emblem, Slit. Body slowly struggling upwards, her last power put into the final attack. She had no other resort left but for a full-on assault. All men have hearts, she thought. Wan thews began to quiver, sagging down over brilliant optics of steely cobalt. Again Uabhasach was erected to her side as she remained motionless. Chest heaving from the last few actions, a human of her age rarely would include herself in this type of exercise. As breathing regulated itself and bosom slowed she readied herself for a final onslaught. Shoulders hunching fourth, narrowed into her body with legs adjusting to shoulder width accordingly. Jacklin’s spear jutted outward again, both hands clutching the weapon firmly. Jacklin proceeded at a slower pace this time, a mere gallop compared to before. But gently the tempo improved before finally becoming an expected charge. Uabhasach was knowingly stung into the earth below, the human propelled upwards only to land again a few seconds later with an even greater velocity behind her. Spear was brought forward and the action repeated. Just as she neared the healthy troll, spear was driven a third time into the soil for the desired boost. This time, though, the tool was swung around to her front and leveled with the chest of Ekodas. The tip aimed to enter the arrogant trolls chest cavity, taking the life from his body.

Ekodas can barely keep his agonised gaze upon his shifty opponent. Unsure what happened to the shade of the king, the troll discards the arm and prepares himself for her attack. As she begins her wild charge, he gets ready, waiting until the very last minute to push off with all the strength left in his good arm. He rolls quickly right, his movements fast enough to save his life but not fast enough to save the remnants of his wounded arm. Her spear severs into the flesh with an arrogant ease that causes the troll a moment of confusion. For his body keeps rolling to the right, whereas his arm stays still. Oh no! The woman has cut the limb from the troll, and as this registers the searing agony of the wound rapes the troll?s mind. In his heavily damaged state he can only panic ? having faced more than one battle against rather powerful opponents already, he is unable to really offer anything that even resembles an attack. He almost gives up then, this shown by a shimmer that shines across his scorched skin. But no! He remembers again the sweetness that comes from sinking his fanged teeth into the flesh of a goat, or a goatfish! He remembers again the power that resides below the bridges, the sweet princesses who taste so delicate, who scream with such divine terror. Holding onto these last vestiges of a life worth living, the tormented warrior screams as he surges to his one good leg. With a grunt dripping in wild power, he hops a might hop at Jacklin; a trail of tainted blood dripping from his shoulder. His mouth opens, teeth ready, for he seeks now to bite down upon her very head and for the second time today taste the sweet, salty supper that is brains. His one good arm is retracted, talon_like claws soon extended and with a swish that slices through the air, the limb is sent towards Jacklin?s midsection in a disembowelling swipe.

Jacklin stood staring blankly at her own luck. How had she managed, in her practically dead state, to cleave the arm from the trolls body? Had she actually done that? Her mind swam with such a haze that the reality of the situation was not something she could understand at the moment. The Kings creeping effects had almost completely taken over her beaten form. Light toned skin continued to flush in the deep blue shade, her head lolling on her shoulders as she stood in her fazed stupor. Recalling a sudden force of focus she remembered that a person could live without an arm. A troll probably even better. It was too late for a reaction, too late for even a cry for unknown help. She had no Gods to rely on and her spear was worthless to her weary arms. A suave step back saving her mid-section from spilling it’s contents. Although her head was not so lucky. The turn of cranium had only caused his teeth to clam down along her cheek and jaw. She was like a damned rabbit to the troll! His massive jaw sinking firmly into her face and poking out inside her mouth. His tooth was in her mouth. With delayed reaction she pushed herself from the troll, stumbling back only to fall flat on her backside. Her face a veil of sanguine, flaps of flesh peeling down and fluttering along the side of her jaw and cheek. The elder was unrecognizable

-Jacklin wins.

Jacklin practically crawls over to where the trolls prone body is, her one opened eye searching his body carefully for where the amulet had fallen in the chaos. Alas, it was right in front of her half-face. Clutching the fallen King’s amulet she drags her body a few feet away, clutching the Tavern wall to hoist herself erect again. A final pitiable look given to the troll.