Duel:Fox v Kanna, Match 1 of the 2021 Titans of Winter Tournament
Duelists: Fox the spellrogue vs Kanna the bardic necrobotanist Duel: Traditional 3 rounds with final defense, 20 minute posting limit. Stakes: Standard, autohit delivered by winner with allowance for final reply. Judges: Caltarok, Leone and Josleen.
Walled Courtyard
Passing through the impressive North Gate or standing upon the threshold of Frostmaw Fort, the courtyard sprawls out before you, securely fenced in by the mighty wall. High above upon the wall, soldiers march and sentries stand guard, ever watchful of Frostmaw city's borders and those that move throughout the fort. With the knowledge that sharped eyed archers oversee activity, one can move through the courtyard upon a stone-paved pathway, each piece handcarved with intricate, tribal designs beloved of Frostmawians. Bordering the path are grounds that should be nothing more than packed earth and snow, yet it appears to be a lawn of finely trimmed grass, of all things. How is such a thing growing in these harsh climes? Whatever the sorcery behind it, grass dominates this courtyard, a rare splash of color so far North, and dotted with statues of various famous warriors of lore. Lining the pathway are lengthy, tiered constructs of stone and ice: benches, you realize, cunningly wrought to provide seating for races of any height. Southward lies the gates to depart this area, well-guarded to prevent the ill-intentioned from fleeing. While northward looms Frostmaw Fort, a behemoth construct of stone, wood, and ice, riddled with battlements, towers, and a myriad of deadly defenses. As if the walls, mounted, giant crossbows, and guards were not daunting enough, to the east and west lie the courtyards of the Titan Sentinels, their earthen and frozen heads visible over the walls. The City of War seems to have earned its title.
Kanna is the type of woman who would rather draw 25 cards than dress normally for any kind of event, this one included. Inspired by the nobilities of Enchantment, the self-proclaimed bardic necrobotanist looks as though she is dressed for another ball instead of the fight. Layers of black chiffon drape her figure, held in place with fashionable interlocking webs of ghrondium along her torso and arms. Similarly, a ghondium chainmail decorates her hair, held in place by a crown of thorns that weaves in and out of the armor. In one hand, she carries a long wooden staff, curled in on itself with multiple thorned branches until it reaches the top, where it separates and curls in again in the shape of a heart. A stark contrast of the stoic guards of Frostmaw, the short ghoul nearly bounces with excitement as she enters the arena, ready to showcase what she has learned for her patron.
A coach as dark as night trudged up the snow-capped mountain, led by sturdy beasts with wooly hooves and frost-tipped manes and tails. The driver was garbed from head to foot in black liveries, black brocade on black wool, cloaks of black bear fur draped around his broad shoulders, and he guided the horses on with a diligent and subtle hand that might suggest he had taken this route before. Arriving at the fort, he slowed to a halt and leaped down to the snow to circle around to the coach itself. The windows were curtained on the inside, blocking the passenger from view while the footman descended from his perch as well, and together, the two flanked the door. Standing like sentinels of the night, they stood tall and proud in silence as shadows started to push through the stone and snow to coil around their ankles, fanning out from the ends of their capes. At last, the door to the coach swung outward, and a fog of blackness rolled out, rippling outward from one ebon boot and then the other onto the steps of the vehicle. Following the shadow-swept leg, a hooded figure emerged. They were of average height with their steep heels, a few inches shy of six feet, and shadows continued to stretch away from them when they alit upon the frozen earth. Not a single span of skin could be seen through the impenetrable swathes of shadow that wrapped around the figure, and they offered up no words of greeting or salute to anyone gathered, their only sounds the crunch underfoot as they approached the battle yard, the only indication of consideration the subtle tilt to their head as the person behind the guise shifted a boring stare toward Kanna.
Leone said, "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen to the 2021 Titans of Winter tournament - first round selections. Tonight, we have Eleanor "The Fox" against "Poison Ivy" Kanna. Contestants have agreed to 20 minute rounds, Kanna going first, and no extra stakes. The judges are Josleen (substitute for Kasyr), Caltarok, and myself. Tonight, I'd like to remind the contestants to mind the weather. For Frostmaw is victim to sudden winds, freezing rain, and blinding snow at any given moment. The clock will start as soon as I get a "yes" from both contestants. Contestants, are you ready?"
Round One:
Kanna wastes no time the moment the duel begins. With a wave of the gnarled wooden staff in her left hand, grass along the sides of the arena begins to spread, covering the statues, and creeping until the walls of the courtyard are covered in foliage. A hum escapes the bardess’ throat as she prepares to sing. “When leaves have fallen, and skies turn to grey, the night keeps on closing in on the day.” She begins to sing, her voice echoing off the snow and newfound foliage. Chunks of ice splinter off of the walls as the greenery forces itself through. Sharp shards fall towards the shadowy figure as Kanna swiftly navigates around the pseudo-avalanche. She seems to tilt her head just so that with every word of her song, the soundwaves push the ice midair to angle its fall towards the rogue and away from herself. “You better hide from the freezing hell, oh on cold wings, she's coming, you better keep moving.” Singing was second nature, but Kanna continuously averts her eyes from the rogue to make sure the second part of her spell is working. From within the grass along the arena and up its walls, violet mushrooms begin to bloom. The gills pulse with the cold winter air, and shudder, releasing clouds of spores that fall onto the arena once there is no more ice to angle in the Fox’s direction. A nearby guard officiating keeping the audience at a safe distance makes the mistake of breathing the spores as they pass by him. With moments, the guard is on the ground, limbs seizing. Kanna quietly murmurs an apology to the poor frost giant as she moves to separate herself from the rogue with the poisonous cloud between them, fresh mushrooms continuing to blossom and rain fresh paralyzing agents onto them. The act of remaining well within the rogue’s sight is also a ploy, as the spores seem to distort where her exact position is; a double-edged sword, as Kanna also has no way of knowing exactly where her opponent stands now.
Fox stood still as did time, or so it felt to them. Their gaze was trained on Kanna, and everything else in this walled courtyard faded away into nothingness, little more than background noise. One step forward, then another, slow at first, and then skipping ahead in a straight line toward their bardic foe. As they did so, they crossed their arms in an 'x' and crouched in their sprint, as though they were about to launch into a squat dance to the beat of Kanna's song. However, far from Fox's intentions, they instead flashed two glints of steel, paired blades now wielded in each gloved hand. The darkness loomed around them still before it surged outward and rose up in a shield to take the brunt of the snowbound tide. As a result of the rippling sonic blast that followed, their boots skid backward a pace before they slammed a boot down, cleats emerging from the soles to prevent them from losing any more ground. Leaves and vines pushed through the snow to close in on them, and although it was unlikely to be Kanna's purpose, it certainly made the courtyard a lot easier to run along, boot spikes piercing plant matter and snow in stride. The rogue leader's shadows bloomed higher and higher, growing like a tidal wave before it was rent down the middle, spreading outward to flank the necrobotanist. It was then that Fox truly heard the horrid sounds coming from the girl's mouth, and they could be seen shaking their head, shadows swaying around in a momentary lapse. At least, they'd hoped it was ephemeral, but it was joined by the clouds of spores, navigating growing more treacherous by the beat, but behind the shadowy facade, the Fox grinned. Their surging shadows suddenly whipped around from Kanna's backside to push her closer still to the spellrogue, whose twin blades were ready to switch through her flesh crosswise the moment Fox was close enough. The plume of poisonous spores settled over the combatants, but for now, the dagger-wielding shadowfiend appeared unaffected; a more intimate observer though might notice the last-minute slip in their step.
Round Two:
Kanna coos in adoration for the manipulation of shadows. As the wave approaches, Kanna deftly spins backwards to lessen the reach of the sea of shadows. Her song uninterrupted, though she does improvise the lyrics some. “If you wanted to dance, you should have said so.” Seeming to be unbothered by the embrace of the shadows, she lifts her feet off the ground to allow the wave to carry her into the waiting attack of the spellrogue. As she approaches, Kanna raises her staff, the intertwined branches that had comprised of the heart decorum opening to reveal spiked tendrils of the Ya Te Veo tree from which her staff was crafted. As they open, the branches whip about violently in search of some semblance of a meal, something much more living than its owner. “Don't you see it? You better believe.” She releases the staff to allow it to greet the Fox in Kanna’s place. The moment the staff connected with the ground again, it would sink into the muddy snow and out of sight. The bardess leans back, allowing herself to slide beneath the battle stance of her opponent. When she returns to her feet, she looks at her hand and gasps. Surely, she had started this fight with all five fingers, no? Kanna looks up just in time to see three of her left-hand fingers land somewhere in the audience. No matter, they would grow back soon enough. With one hand impaired, but the other free, she withdraws a musical instrument hanging from a thin silver chain around her neck. A polished perfect pitch pipe from some long forgotten club, the bardess raises it to her lips to release a single high-pitched note. The resounding soundwaves displace the mess of snow and foliage on the ground as it surges forward to knock the Fox off their feet, or at the very least cause some very nasty damage to her ears.
Although Fox skipped across the ground unsettled, once they had their footing again, from within the adumbral cloak, they laughed, low and husky, raspy sounds of conceit and amusement. "Oh, mah wee songbird," it spoke in lilting, taunting waves. "Keep spinnin' yer words; we'll see who is th' better weaver." They sucked in a sharp breath as if to punctuate the warning and followed it with more crackling chuckles. The air in the courtyard was growing thinner, colder. Fox could feel it in their lungs, sense the changing in the atmosphere. As Kanna's staff slithered away, she might also notice the wounds left by the mistress of crows may very heal back, just not entirely as intended, and in the wake of contact with her strange and eerie appendages, Fox's daggers gave off a dark and ominous aura. Fox spun around on their heels to follow the bard's retreat, their shadows jumping over rock and under limb to act as ballasts and rooting the shadow-swathed miscreant in place. Hoping to draw energy from anything absorbed by the blades, they used their shadows to thrust them toward the bard, and in doing so, exposed them to the keening of that shattering note. An animalistic growl was ripped from Fox's throat when they were knocked backward, tripping over boot and root until they rolled a few feet across the ground, forming a snowy, shadowed embankment. No time was wasted to rise again, grunting as they did so, and right arm whipped out, their shadows responding instantaneously to reach for the pitch pipe, intent on snatching it from the bard's fingers if intuitive enough not to try and steal it from them altogether. Meanwhile, Fox shuffled forward a pace, two, three, and from within the shadows emerged a beat of blue, a bead of green, pulsing as they summoned the dregs of power from the blades. Another yell pealed out from the hooded figure as they unleashed Kanna's magic back at her, tainted and corrupted as it had been in the channeling process to smother the bard entirely.
Round Three:
Kanna was undead, and could only sense the growing cold in the air as it became more difficult for her to move. Being cold-blooded had its limitations, and being susceptible to her limbs locking up was certainly one of them. This coupled with the lack of fingers on her left hand to block the shadows with, enabled the trinket to be robbed from the bardess. “Phooey.” Kanna’s bubbly facade slips as her lip curls with revulsion at the thought of some stranger touching her things without permission. Back at the stands to where the Fox’s back is turned, frost giant who had succumbed to the poisonous fungi clambers to his feet, though somehow much paler than before, if such a thing was possible for the race. A violet liquid oozes out from his mouth as he turns straight towards the Fox, intent on capturing her. Only a quirk of the lip back upwards in satisfaction is garnered from Kanna before the stolen magic knocks her back into the walls of the courtyard. A resounding crack echoes throughout the arena, nearly deafening the footfalls of the rapidly approaching ghoul Kanna created. The transformed frost giant roars as it attempts to descend upon the spellrogue, armored arms outstretched. With her song interrupted, the mushrooms on the arena’s walls quickly rot and begin to rain down onto the arena as well, splashing a foul-smelling substance with each sickly plop. A mushroom lands on Kanna’s sleeve, quickly eating away at the chiffon, then through the ghrondium armor beneath as she bats the rotting fungus off of her arm. While Fox is distracted with her puppet, Kanna slips behind one of the courtyard’s statues, uttering a lullaby of healing to herself to mend anything broken. An inability to feel pain left Kanna paranoid of overexerting her body when damaged.
Fox did not have the opportunity to revel in giving the necrobotanist a dirty taste of her own medicine. Beneath the shroud of shadows, behind the bits of glowing arcana that fluttered between the umbral, writhing disguise, the oft reckless leader of rogues lost their grin. Frosty the Bard-touched Snowman descended upon them with outstretched arms easily the size of their head if not more than enough to crush it, and the first swipe was only narrowly missed when Fox somersaulted away. Once their feet were under them again, it wasn't for long, and they kicked off from the ground to pirouette under the second lumbering swing of the giant's arms. A ghastly shade of blood oozed from the gaping wound the rogue's blades left in the monster's thigh if it could even be called blood at that point, and it hissed against the ground. Fox's shadows had been dispersed, but now they amalgamating together again in a shifting, swirling form. It rapidly grew in size until it was a shadowy twister as large as the giant itself, long tendrils for arms sweeping around to bearhug Frosty when it went in for third-time's-the-charm. Fox sneered behind their mask of shadows, but it was replaced by a new grin when Kanna was nowhere to be seen. Fox did so love a hunt. Sending out a pulse of arcana, subtle, delicate, and nuanced, it reached and searched and probed the courtyard until Kanna's spellcasting gave her away. It flashed in Fox's gaze, which narrowed on the statue behind which the bard crouched, and without delay, they began advancing on it. Fox's left arm now stretched outward, sending an invisible force of her magic against the statue, as much as to crush the girl as draw her out, at which point the assassin moved in to finish the job. The daggers had been replaced now with a round instrument, steel in make and lighting up with runes the moment Fox's gloved hand curled around it. Launching it, the chakram whistled through the air like a disc, spinning accurately after the bard with every intent to decapitate.
Final Defense:
Kanna had just become satisfied with the state of her healing, when the crumbling of stone alerted her attention back to the duel. Hrm. She needed more than one puppet next time. A mental note is quickly made to ask the queen how much each guard’s life costs. The ghoul steps back, but not before the falling stone connects with her left shoulder, the joint cleanly disconnecting from the socket. Despite not feeling pain, Kanna could still feel panic, which was exactly what she felt as she realized she was down a limb completely. The glowing of runes draws her eye back to Fox as her opponent draws the curled weapon. In an attempt to defend herself, she holds her good arm out. Responding to her call, the Ya Te Veo staff re-emerges from the earth just meters from where it had burrowed itself into the ground before. The malleable wood wraps around Kanna’s usable arm, and up around her neck and torso for stability as she raises up the makeshift shield, spiked thorns facing outwards.
Winner: Kanna
Auto Hit and Response:
The chakram cuts short as it becomes lodged in the thick knots of the wooden shield. With a grunt, Kanna wordlessly commands the wood to her will as the thorns shoot out, curving inwards to pin the Fox by her blackened furs down to the mushroom-laden ground. The staff resumes its natural form, the spellrogue’s weapon sinking into the rot. Kanna stumbles over to the Fox, raising the head of the staff as if to impale her with it, but instead gives her opponent a light smack with the heart-shaped end, then angles it with her one good arm so that Fox can use it to sit up. “That’s going to eat through your coat, and that fur is way too pretty for that. C’mon, let’s get some tea at the Healer’s Guild tent, I’ve gotta know how you caught my fingers anyways.” As her opponent rises to her feet and the pair march off the arena to patch their wounds, “Oh, and I’ve gotta give you some of these mushrooms for the road, they’re really useful--” It was a real shame Kanna did not get decapitated after all, lest Fox be spared from her incessant chattering.
Fox knew that they had lost the upper hand, knew that fate had intervened on Kanna's behalf, acknowledged her skills in the cosmic spheres, a reckoning of enchanted steel against the wood. Kanna would be wise to be careful with the rune-scripted weapon; the sigils weren't just to ensure its accuracy. As with other assaults the leader had laid out, it wasn't as simple as all that, and soon enough, the weapon was zipping back into their gloved grasp, where it was tucked under the shadowed cloak. Darkness within Fox's hood kept their visage obscured, but Eleanor was grinning broadly behind the summoned mask. Taking the Ya Ta Veo staff in their left hand, Fox drew themselves up, grunting and shrugging out of the fur shawl before it seemed to disintegrate into a fine grainy mist, carried away by an eddy of snow and frost. No love was lost for it, it had served its purpose well, and each piece of the puzzle fitted together nicely. "Ah'll pass on th' tea," the shrouded figure replied, amusement a short huff away. "Bu' Ah migh' be inclined tae share a few secrets ower whisky."