Duel:Eshton v Heyx

Duel Info

Judges: Kaval,Eyren (mid),Zeneth

Stakes: 2000 gold

Venue: Kelay Way

Date: July 10, 2009

Winner: Heyx (Split decision)

Heyx vs Eshton

Heyx's brilliant blue optics wash over the man before her, crashing over his robed figure like an ocean wave crashing over a jutting outpour of cliff rocks. How dare this man deny his actions? How dare he deny that he had indeed stabbed her, stole her money, and just recently, sent her a letter proclaiming her a dead woman, and that she should simply watch the shadows, and her back. Teeth bared slightly as the insane woman lowers herself, her shattered mind takes in a plethora of visual information. Every rock and person in the area is taken in, each a potential benefit as she would attempt to end this little personal conflict here and now. Dark, petite digits extend as the left arm is placed behind her back, pressed tightly against the black, reveiling bodice covering her lithe frame. With right appendage outstretched, fingers outstretched, the woman's lips part to expel a soft whisper. An incantation of sorts, as a pale red aura begins to encase her fingers, softly spreading across the hand like a waterflow, where it begins to build up at the palm. Then, the girl's eyes burst wide open as a massive flash of purple screams across the area, signifying the arrival of a widened blast red, cascading towards Eshton like a hawk for its next morsel. If the strike were to succeed, it's speilwerk qualities would produce a agonizing, earsplitting scream within the man's head, rendering him nearly deaf and dazed. It would seem her opening attack was to wither the enemy, softening him up for her next attempt at revenge.

Eshton :: Having been the first to exit the building, Vengeance stands at the ready facing the Tavern door. He gazes lazily at the woman's figure, half wishing that it would go away, half glad that he has a fight. Indeed, it had been months since the man had participated in a fight. He was eager to unleash some of the skills he had gained while meditating in the dessert the past months. Fire fills the man's eyes as the woman begins her incantation and a smirk plays across his lips. Of course, one would have to be paying special attention to notice either facial features through the movements of his lips under the skin tight cloth mask covering his face. His hand shoots to the arch in his back where his crossbow is hidden as the red aura shoots from the woman's fingers. He leaps into the air, performing a back flip before landing seven feet behind his previous position with crossbow in hand. He pulls the trigger, sending a poison tipped bolt in the woman's direction just as the aura hits him, leaving him with less than perfect hearing and, were it not for his excellent training, off balance for his opponent's next attack.

Heyx watches in hateful agony of this man, and his biting poison. The same poison that had been injected into her thigh not but quarter of a week ago. Biting her teeth down to keep from a hideous cry of fury, the girl can do naught as she watches the impressive feat of physical prowess. Indeed, this man was beginning to show a bit more potential than the clumsy bastard that decided he would try for her life and coin, but she could not deny the fact that they both were using the same weapon. Not about to allow the same thing to happen to her, the girl flings herself down upon the dirt, onto her stomach. Easily, the crossbow bolt flies overhead, several small droplets of its deadly concoction spilling lightly over her back. Perhaps it would cause a rash later as it sunk into her clothes, but that was unimportant now. Eager to return the agression, Heyx leaps to her feat, this time aiming for a more traditional exitium spell. Waving both arms forward to help gather her mana, the girl whispers cooly to herself, in an effort to stay her furiously beating heart. Although only requiring a verbal component, this spell was difficult to perform under stress or great pressure. Having completed her incantion, the drow watches in delight as a thin, clear liquid resembling water pours from her fingertips, splashing across the dirt at her feet where it begins to bubble up and sink deep into the earth. Seconds later, the ground beneath Eshton's feet begins to shake ever so slightly, before a burst of razor-sharp, needle thin icicles explode from the rough, brown, slightly grass-covered and foot worn dirt beneath the assassin. These would hurt very dearly if they were to make contact.

Eshton :: Vengeance curses under his breath as his bolt flies over his opponent's body, not even scraping her body. The assassin knew that he would have to implement a more direct approach if were to attack this woman. He places the poison crossbow back in its place in the crook of his back and draws his sword, a shimmering, intricately carved longsword named Ballard from its sheath and retrieves his shield from its place on his back. Always attuned to his surroundings, Eshton feels the ground move under his feet immediately and leaps straight into the air. Looking down, the man whispers something obscene under his breath when he sees the razor sharp pikes jutting from the ground. Thinking fast, he swings his shield under his feet as he falls back to the ground, landing on it and crushing most of the icicles underneath. Still slightly disoriented however, the assassin stumbles forward, receiving a nasty cut on his left knee; the same knee which had been injured once already today. Grimacing, he straightens himself, steps over the few remaining icicles, and breaks into a run for his opponent, leaving his shield behind and limping ever so slightly on his leg. About halfway from his opponent, he reaches for a dagger at his side and sends it flying towards the woman. Amazingly enough, it stops only seconds away from her chest due to the unknown effects of the man's prized chronoblade, Ballard. He grabs the dagger out of the air as he reaches, slashes at his opponent's chest with Ballard in an impressive twirl and proceeds to stab her in the gut with the dagger once facing her again.

Heyx's neon green lips move in a manner that could leave nothing to the imagination. Somewhat distraught by the man defeating her glacies magicarus with nothing other than a mundane shield, the woman begins to step back slightly, already aware of what a close range melee fighter can do to her. No, this man could not reach her. If he did, she could hardly defend herself with her bare fists, especially against an opponent bearing sword and dagger. Nay, those footsteps could not reach her. Hands sink into the sides of her short skirt, producing a very unfamiliar object, indeed, to the assassin. A gris-gris. What appears to be a tiny head and body with twigs coming out either end of a hasty wrap about it's tiny body. Small, loose teeth seem outfitted to the face, where two tiny, beady eyes peer at Eshton. Indeed, a strange object, it was no less necessary for Heyx's next move. Swiftly, as the man nears her, she slides a side of the twig onto her finger, slicing through it easily. A light bloodflow ensues, gently coating the side of the gris-gris before the girl tosses it to her feet. Then, a sword swing and a still dagger is grabbed in air. Heyx twists to the right, her left breast taking a nasty slice around the center, not deep enough to remove the thing, but deep enough to cause some of the worst pain ever thrust upon this little lady. Then the dagger blow, a near miss that produces a faint slash upon the girl's hip, splitting the skirt to reveil grey skin adorned by a thin red line, dripping blood. But what about the gris-gris? Well, now that a barell of smoke is flowing from it, it is far from unnoticable. Grinning as she turns to ever so slightly face Eshton, looking him directly in the eye for only a brief moment, the girl pushes past him, taking only a few steps foreword an explosion of tiny needles erupts from the little doll, flowing in every direction furiously. But are these truly needles? The assassin may think so, but they are indeed in fact little peices of the material used to build the gris-gris. If they make contact with Eshton, they will imbue him with a terrible curse. Patches of red swellings will begin to form upon him, first on the soles of his feet and the palms of his hands, and then upon his back. They will ich, and ooze a green puss. Very unpleasant, indeed.

Eshton :: Faces the gris-gris with grim determination; the wheels in his head are turning faster and faster as the duel helps to break the rust from the seldom-used gears. He jumps back to gain time, repeating a move similar to his first jump and lands, kneeling on his good knee with the hilt of his sword grasped in both hands. As he focuses his thoughts on the sword, it begins to glow a bright green color which explodes in an five foot outward radius just before the needles would hit him. Every needle which does not enter the aura around Eshton flies into something: a tree, a bush, a bystander; the needles in the aura, however, are frozen completely in time. As the master assassin stares at them a small trickle of blood oozes from his nose, an obvious result of the conversation required to hold off the onslaught. He turns to face his opponent once more and says, "If I were the man… I'm sure you would remember something like this." His voice is hoarse and strained, another result of the level of concentration. Suddenly, the assassin leaps into the air, though not as high as he had wished due to his injured knee, and releases the hold he has on the needles. Some happened to be flying in Heyx's direction; those he let go as his attack, but some hit him in the leg, a result of his low jump.

Heyx bites down on her tongue, eyes wide as the remains of her gris-gris seem frozen in the air, as if held semi-animate by some ancient arcane force. Now bleeding heavily from the slash upon her breast, the girl is panting, chest heaving as sweat rolls down her face. This battle was taking it's toll, to say the least. Not wanting to respond to the man's words, Heyx breathes deep, taking a gulp of fresh breath as she holds a hand over her wound, stiffling the blood flow slightly. Then, the remains are loosed, raining heavily in Heyx's direction. Not at all worried from the speilwerk imbued within the bits of twigs and whatnot, as she was exempt from her own curses, she holds a hand over her face, wanting to protect her most vital and weakest points: eyes. The little bits rain down upon her like a sea of arrows, some lightly digging into her skin, but many simpling failing to peirce her flesh and collapses all around her where they form a small blanket across the girl's boots. Indeed, not a very particularly deadly attack, it was none the less the final act of agression in this bout. Both duelers were exhausted, evident by Eshton's bleeding, and Heyx as she went down leans foreward, hands over her knees as she heaved for breath, still watching Eshton closely.

Eshton sighs, apparently fatigued and tired of fighting. "Child," he says, "I did not attack you and I have no idea why you think I did." The assassin places a hand in the fold of his robes and retrieves a pouch of gold. "But... id you insist, take this. And let it be a peace treaty between us."

Heyx stares upon the man for a few moments, before accepting the pouch of gold. She offers him a slight smile, before sitting down to recuperate.