Duel:Feir v Reinhardh

From HollowWiki

Duel Type: Spar


Feir stands calmly looking into the sunset where the sun falls upon the planet. A comfortable breeze brushed his dark hair every which way and it rustled his tattered sleeve as it lay folded across his chest. he states in deep thought, " This despair is not yours.You don't have to wonder Whether I win, whether I lose. Rather laugh at it loud Say all these are false doubts That in them lie no wounds For inside thy laughter Lies a living power. Deep in it, something whispers: When hope is snuffed out like a guttering candle. When hope is sadistically excised with surgical precision. When hope is torn from a half-living body in huge gobbets by rapacious beaks and ravening teeth. I, eyes under your skin and fear in your throat will guide you to deliverance." He turns to face reinhardh in a way that issued zen. Smugly, he says, "don't take me lightly mighty one, you will find yourself playing checkers with the wolf...and my advice is don't deal with the wolf." the athletic shape of his body relaxed futher in poise. Dropping his hands to his side to reveal two twin dark steel daggers, he moves his right one to his face and crouches to advance at Reinhardh in great speed. About forty paces away he leaps from the soft sand into the air and spins to gather momentum for a quick slash in aim for the warriors defined jaw muscle revealing the spilled blood of a warrior to match skill of that of his own.

Reinhardh digs his boots into the grainy shoreline as Feir approaches him. The male spellblade sees the attack coming and clenches his fist, and as the dagger nears him he attempts to flinch away from it and Feir with a timed side-step turning out to be a hit or miss stumble more than anything. As Reinhardh coils back, he feels a small trickle of sanguinous fluid cool his cheek and jaw; a semi-transparent, crimson swath cut into his neck over a relative small portion of the man's jaw. His hair flows in this movement, the man snearing and lurking back for a moment as his lightly-skinned hand delves into the confines of his gothic-esque red trench. He grabs four ruby-jeweled daggers, and then swaps two within his other hand, two for both now. He rears his arm back and launches a dagger, then same steps for his other arm, then repeat until the daggers are depleted. All sped their course for Feir's body, one launched for his arm, one for his leg, and one for his chest. One was intentionally cast at the male's feet, but would actually strike into the sand and glow a feindish red, the jewel on the hilt reacting to it's purpose, to shred the air with a vorpulent explosion and harm Rein's foe.

Infidus makes his way across the sand to a large piece of driftwood where he take a seat to watch the combatants. Put all but one of his cards back in his pocket. With the one remaining card he holds it up in the air by two fingers shaking it a little. The card begins to tremble and expand and an insignificant popping sound can be heard coming from the card. After several minutes he takes the other corner by two fingers and pulls as he does a small waft of steam rises from what is now a small paper bag. Infidus reaches into the bag and pulls out a small hand full of popped corn.

Feir plummets to the soft surface into a barrel role and jumping back into the air in defense of mystery and anxieties. "damn..." he says as his powerful legs rocket him backwards toward the incoming waves at the shore. " I missed..." he articulates in his mind before he apperceives the four chaotic blades approaching him. Nimbly, he avoids the primary wave of the first two dodging one that came like an arrow in aim for his arm and reverting the other from his chest still in flight. The sharp pierce of metals sent broken shards of material fire past his cogitative and toned face. Suddenly releases a slight grunt as the sound of breached flesh becomes muffled from an explosion that randomly for Feir occured singeing his clothes into tiny fragments and particles of fabric. His mildly charred body collided into the shallow water knocking him unconcious for a second or two. The warrior looks up to his foe with glassy eyes and bruised flesh. " You are quick, but not fast enough" he shouts as he tears Reinhards dagger from his foot and charges once more this time crouching low to the ground to maintain a low center of gravity while swiftly returning the bloody dagger toward Rein's chest hopefully distracting him long enough for Feir to come at him in an angle and provide enough of a window for him to accomplish three paces of space in between them and alloted enough time for a quick and painfull gouge into the side of his foe's chistled neck only mildly pirecing his neck offering yet another distraction.

Reinhardh watches his adversary with interest. His form braves the battlefield with pride and daring. His keen eyes focus onto the stumbling Lycan, a small glint gone unrealized as his dagger is plucked from the sands and words of the other accompanied by the sound of a churning wave as it's launched. Reinhardh puffs his chest with a laugh, the thrown dagger while not launched with extreme skill slices through the male's adornments, stopping from complete penetration only by a thick layer of worn leathers. The male growls and places his hand to the hilt of the weapon, it lights up with his trademark flame and disappears into his magical reserves. Now he resumes his battle stance and would be damned to let Feir go unpunished. He smirks, throws his arms out and flames ignite over the man's body, pushing out an energy that transforms the man and battlefield. That spire of change, consumes the man, turning leathered rogue into chivalrous Knight, complete with a deadly sword, heroic helmet, and flowing, regal cloak. Small mobile wings burn ever furiously upon the male's shoulders. With these, he strafes to Feir's side, dodging his outstretched aim towards his neck. In this dance of death, Reinhardh clenches his gauntleted fist and seeks to drive it down onto the cranium of the other. A distraction, at the least, as the other hand weilds that macabrous, disastrous blade, fuming with flames and burning with ethereal anger. Fist, hilt, blade ignite with furious blood-fury flames, now coming down over Feir in a celeritous typhoon of destruction.

Feir freezes in mid air in astonishment of the beautiful transformation that become of his opponent. the radiance of power and color ignite the man and in awe, forgets about his intentions to wound. As color plays it distraction feir is pummeled into the sand violently shaking the very foundation benieth the two steadfast warriors. water parts every which way in every other direction topling small sand dunes and sand life.benieth the macabrous and lethiferous mallet of anguish, lie broken boned Feir, sand encompassing his body parts as he oddly resempled a mound of flesh.But the battle had just begun for rein for in front of rein did small orbs of a pure incandescent blue light accompanied by a holy god like glow appear like dancing children around a fire singing a song of old. His body began to crack and break, twitch and spasm and the momentaily dead feir began to rise. like in a natural occurance of ressurection, his body rose and became engulfed in a white conflagration emitting a brillance flash of whiteish silver into the sky and mockery of an explosion, sand and water lift into the sky and disburse rapidlly as the glare becomes blinding. after a split second, its gone and there stands feir in wolf form, growling in rage. Red shimmering runes inscribed upon his skin shined like a wildfire . " I guess it's up from here huh?: he coldly speaks to the warrior. " nOW I will show you what its like to be cataclysmic in power and will!" like a white comet he charges at rein in full force hoping to bring him to his back. this would provide access to another attack where Feir could howl enhancing his beastial abilities and sending a shockwave of seraphic energies through Reinhardh that would temporarily paralize any ability to move leaving him vulnerable to attack once more

Infidus continues to nibble away at his popped corn.

Reinhardh surveys the battlefield, now feeling the conflict of the two warriors at it's greatest. Reinhardh's flames had burned the ground and left it with large wounds that would tell of his tale for days to come. His helmet conveys the malicious intentions of the man, the engine of destruction, sharp metal eyes furious and cold as they stare into the soul of the enemy. As Feir releases his gutteral howl he can feel his enemy's strength increase two-fold, his transformation unlike his own, adding to his natural strength and fortitude making him a true monster of this battle. Reinhardh and Feir could be compared to as Demons, both thirsty for War and blood shed and doing anything possible to emerge victorious in the struggle that seperated the men from the dead. Momentarily he feels the hair on the back of his neck stand as he braces to collide with Feir; burning sabre disappearing within reverse flames, in the palms of the spellsword. The two grapple, and Feir manages to push Reinhardh back, the human's muscles frail and uncompetitive to Feir's unnatural strength. It would seem in this struggle, in this moment, the two clashed with ignorance of the world around them and lived only for this fight. Reinhardh clenched his teeth, and gripped his hands on the rough fur of Feir as their struggle ensued. Rein could do nothing here, he would summon up his magical energy; breath in and focus, stand firm even while being pushed back. His second skin, the armor speaking of legendary tales, stained with the blood of countless immortals, sparks with deleterious electricity. Finally, the energy would swell and a massive wave of electro-fury would be passed hopefully into Feir. Enough to push the Lycan meters away and gain that valuable space to breath and re-summon his blade of war.

Feir howls at the lunar moon as it draws closer to the planet enpowering the demon wolf more. The tempestuous energies that surged into his enemy lit his eyes with a spark of murderous intent. Feir snapped at Rein face hoping to pull back with flesh and blood between the dagger like teeth ripened for the moment. Ripened for the war-like blood flowing through this land and the two puppets of war with a unquenchable lust for destruction. Luckly, there was no flesh or blood but a jolt of righteous power up Feir spinal column sending him alertingly staggering back. His red tipped paws connect with the baked sand turning the ground grey to black under every footstep. " there is more to me human, Just try and kill me again and bite your f***in head off!" he barked deranged and possessed. The demon hound stood breathing heavily and slowly fatiguing. the overwhelming pressures and loud static confusion was taking a bloody toll on him as being the first to reach this form, he was not physically fit for it yet. He could taste fresh blood in his throat being an obvious sign of enervation and anhelation. Then he caught Reinhardhs movements and his sudden fury sparked again as he took flight into the air. Knowing that the fight was drawing to the near, he must have resorted to his last desperation. High into the atmosphere he went until he could see his enemy as big as his paws. within seconds his eyes became a magnified blue-ish purple as reverent forces swirled around his body. the raw unabridged sovereignty of energy melted together to form a gather mass of energy and power. Calling upon the name of the sacreds before him, he howls to dispatch the cascading beam of light groundward onto the very spirit of reinhardh making this last resort attack more spirtiual than physical. This beam of resplendence and platonic entity would crash upon the might of Reinhardh thus rendering him will-less and weak, and vulnerable to the physical effect of the attack that would the burn the armor of his body and in return put Feir in a coma state situation that he could recover from within days of treatment. Feir's fissure had unimaginable recoils and tolls for such a power weilded in unexpirenced hands.

Reinhardh finds himself on the ground, alone, and with enough room to enchant his form with that spectral, yet entirely too tangible warblade of fire and flame. Looking up to the ferocious Lycan, his eyes coasting with burning determination yet the male stands his ground. The beam of energy cascades down from the heavens and erodes Rein's armor, until the magical plates shatter and fade and the spellblade falls to the ground smoldering. The fight was over. For now.