Duel:Gevurah v Nymh

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Location: Razed Forest
Duelists: Nymh (Surface Allies), Gevurah (Drow Allies)
Judges: Leone, Kang, Tristram
Stakes:  Autohits.

Razed Forest

Abruptly the forest shifts from green, brown, and silver to cinder, charcoal, and rust. The springy grass beneath your feet fades into a crunchy carpet of ash. At the center of the destruction you realize that not a single tree stands for a mile in any direction. What more, the hum of insects, twittering of birds, scurrying of rodents, and melody of magic has been silenced. Only the wind howls past you, changed from a forest breeze to a brazen gust. Gone is the serene glade, that testament to the resilience of nature. But watchers of the forest would recall that the glade was nature's salve to past destruction, and the forest can overcome ruin again and again. To your east, south, and west, lines of green in the distance hint at life beyond death, of leaves and birds, of light. To the north, the drow military camp, the blight in the forest responsible for this destruction, taunts any who would question the drow's right to rule.

Entrance Posts

Nymh was eager to find his way onto the battlefield. He was the loose cannon, the knife in the darkness. He played music, as the troops marched, frost giants and elves and more marching into Sage to liberate it from the drow occupation. Nymh's music inspired, pulled out the resolution of warriors and freedom fighters and seekers of vengeance alike, bringing them all the resolve to conquer their fears and misgivings, and focus on their parts in this all out warfare. Nymh would do more than play his resounding music of the Bae'qeshel, however. His eye scanned the battlefield, searching for the enemy commanders... his greater purpose here. To use stealth, and eliminate whoever lead the troops... to cut the head off the serpent.

Gevurah isn’t ready for battle yet. Her body had mostly recovered from the trials she put it through in the bowels beneath Gualon City, but she’s still not at her fittest. Drow scouts sent word from the camp to the D’Artes compound as soon as the invading army cleared the distant horizon. The First Daughter didn’t have time to dressfor war. She left in a simple black dress, silent boots, and her trusted satchel of treachery. Astride Halbyrn, her giant spider, she weaves through the line of reinforcements coming up through the tunnels. The soldiers have no love for their leader, but her presence buoys them all the same. Love her or hate her (it’s the latter), the power of D’Artes follows her and the troops hope they can ride those coattails long enough to survive another battle. But the army has thinned in the past week after Matron Laezila withdrew her soldiers — horrible timing. Within the camp’s darkness, she casts spells to reinforce her troops’ morale and murderous efficiency. May Vakmatharas glide their blades. The Frostmaw army approaches from the western entrance, and they will have to squeeze through one opening to infiltrate the camp. The drow have the advantage, but will it be enough? The army is large, and the giants powerful. No doubt they bring with them siege weapons as well. She leads a second battalion through a small southern exit, through the razed forest, to attack Frostmaw’s army from its flank. Pop them like a festering pimple. Her spells follow the second battalion. A line of ten warriors receive giant strength and rock-hard skin. Mages tap into a deeper well of arcane energy. This is where a High Priestess excels, in supporting tanks and mages, prolonging their life and effectiveness until the enemy is defeated or retreats. She doesn’t bother looking for the head of the snake. That’s the type of ego that gets bad leaders killed.

Nymh is looking from on high as the battle begins, frost giants throwing rocks with the efficiency of catapults. His music has been played, his part in the thick of the fray over already. Now, was the time for subterfuge... to aim for... his eyes widened in surprise. Gevurah D'artes herself?! Truly, this was a blessed day. His mask hid his madman's grin, as well as his features, cloaked to look much like any drow assassin. Dark mithril under spider silks... he wondered if she'd remember him. Dancing across the battlefield wouldn't be easy, but those of the eyrie often took to the skies. Nocturnal though it was, it was on the back of his giant bat that he circled the battlefield, staying out of range of sight through the canopies, and speeding towards his destination. Gevurah D'artes. He'd leap from the claws of the bat, and catch himself in a tree, then make his way to the ground, hoping to catch her with a blow before she even knew he was there. Of course... considering her mount, and those among her... he had to be careful, in how he advanced, and remained hidden, looking for an opening.

Gevurah sees the bat, but doesn’t have the attention to spare to sniff out if the rider is anyone of note. Her hands sign fluidly, instructing mages to fell the airborne soldier. Assuming they can handle it, she moves on to other concerns that beg her attention. She levitates just above the heads of her soldiers so that she is not in the way and can survey the field better, but not so high that she draws unnecessary attention onto herself. Halbyrn, her spider, scuttles away. Her fingers oscillate between commands for the army and ritualistic shapes for her spells. She bursts one catapulted rock to dust before it collides with the tower, then plagues a section of the invading army with a disease-carrying mist, and so forth. In short, Gevurah is far too preoccupied with the massive invasion to give the bat rider his due. And what more, each spell cast slowly weakens her ability to focus, to tap into her spiritual energy that allows her to communicate with her god and ask for his favor.

Duel

Nymh finds that he doesn't quite make it to the tree he desires. The mages send missiles at the bat, and forced to flee from injuries, his drop is haphazard. He comes down into the tree's, but with ocarina in hand, casts a Sonic Boom at the ground before he hits, sending him into a tumble towards Gevurah. With an intense, burning bloodlust and hatred, he ignores any bruises he takes, and takes to his feet without losing any momentum, dashing quickly towards the First Daughter, and leaping to plant Shatterscourge in her back while she is pre occupied casting spells. The sonic boom would definitely draw attention, not at all the quiet entrance he desired, but if he could connect, he could draw her from her forces and keep the fight to a one on one, instead of finding himself flooded by her army. He was all but throwing his life away, and with abandon, seeking to assassinate Gevurah at the rear of her whole army in battle.

Gevurah turns abruptly, mid-spell, at the sonic boom at her flank. A translucent, slate-colored orb snaps into existence around her like a reflex, but it isn’t enough to stop a dagger as powerfully enchanted as Shatterscourge. It crackles as it penetrates the orb and chases Gevurah’s evasive retreat. The dagger cuts through her dress’s draping sleeves but misses her flesh altogether. As the masked assassin follows through with the attack, Gevurah drops to the ground just above his extended arm, in order to pin it between her thighs to keep it out of harm’s way. She thrusts her hand against his forehead as she shouts Vakmatharas’s Word of Death. His divine sigil glows black on her palm and transfers to whatever she touches. If her target is alive, it will age the course of its life within a minute and be brought to the brink of death, withered and desiccated and hallucinating a vision the God of Death’s skeletal face. Only He knows if the victim will die, and Gevurah defers to His better judgment.

Nymh is utterly unable to do damage, and feels that hand on his mask... through his major enchantment of magical protection. He see's a face... that of Vakmatharas himself. He feels his life ebbing, but has known such sensations since birth, such horrors. He grins. With his free hand, he places his ocarina to his lips, and plays a horrendous melody... a piercing cry that would unbalance her, leaving her unable to hold herself upright, let alone keep that hand on his forhead. He felt the draining effects, though, his strength ebbed... who knew what havoc it wreaked on his body? Still, he knew only to feed Shatterscourge now. The dagger in the hand she had bound was suddenly in the hand that had held his ocarina, ocarina discarded, and he brought it up to thrust into her side, roaring, as he lifted her up with pure, hate filled strength. He was bigger than most male drow, stronger. He'd shank her in the side with that vampiric, cursed blade as many times as he could from that position, dagger flashing back and forth, hoping to paint its self scarlet with her life's blood. His body quivered with the efforts of his overexertion. He was wearing himself out, quickly, but knew he didn't time to spare anyway. She had to die, -now-. A few more moments, and the effects of her magic would show just how devastating they had been.

Gevurah instinctively pushes back off Nymh’s arm when he plays the ear-splitting screech, and it’s a good thing she does too, for it puts enough space between them for her to react to Scatterscoure’s second attack. Her arm comes up as she tries to fire off a skin-to-stone hardening spell, but even basic spells need a little time to complete and Scatterscourge catches her forearm mid-conversion with her skin like hardening clay. It sinks into her flesh which ripples and hardens grotesquely, bleeding around the blade which is now stuck in her stone arm — a regular sword in the stone, drow version. Gevurah lets loose a shriek that rivals Nymh’s own ear-splitting song, though it’s more than pain. She recognizes the blade now, and she knows who her assailant must be. NYMH! Him again?!?! Her rage fuels her bestial side, the side which is incompatible with a priest and better suited for a barbarian, the side which wants to feel a pulse wane beneath her clutch. With her opponent weakening in spades thanks to her previous spell, Gevurah jerks her bleeding arm down to the ground, hoping to throw Nymh off his feet. Her uninjured arm unclasps her seven-viper headed whip from her hip and sends the serpents flailing against the half-blood filth at the end of her arm. Each of the seven viper’s venoms layer over each other and build, so that one bite may just cause nausea, but the fourth paralysis, and the seventh death.

Nymh laughs aloud in insanity as Shatterscourge catches in her arm. It was too perfect. Her flaying was set off by her imbalance, and he dodges, albeit clumsily. One bites him, and the dagger's handle reappears in his hand... without the blade, which is cracking from where it hit stone, from where it detached from the handle. "Now, Gevurah... feel the BITE OF SHATTERSCOURGE!" A flash, a shadow step... and he was behind her, as she swung her whip. Those heads might see him, and writhe, but it would be too late. He'd plant the bladeless dagger at her back, even as Shatterscourge exploded into a frenzy of thrashing, piercing shards. Even her hardened skin would be sliced through, each cut stealing precious life, leaving behind a cursed poison. Worst of all... they moved with such strength, those shards. They were always strongest when they were reforming the blade. Shooting through her if she were there, they would gather back in the hilt, able to pierce stone and armor to reform if needed. This was the end of the line for Nymh, his final attack. His breath labored, and it all hinged on Shatterscourge's power, here. ALso, he thought he was about to puke... just to add to his discomfort. Damn snakes.

Gevurah turns around quickly as soon as Nymh disappears for assassins tend to reappear behind their targets. The dagger butts up against her stomach and knocks a breath out of her, but she recovers it quickly. She drops the whip and grabs Shatterscourge’s hilt as well, claws digging into Nymh’s hand. As soon as she feels the blade fracture into shards in her arm, she figures out the ploy, the deduction made in a flash thanks to decades of magical tutelage. Her blade-bedded arm wraps around Nymh’s back as she sidesteps beside the weakened bard, her hand grasping the hilt to keep it before his belly, and her hardened arm braced against his back just as the shards begin their fiery flight to reassemble at the hilt. She dispels the magic in her injured arm to lessen the damage to her own flesh as the shards bite through her. The new conductor between shards and hilt is Nymh, and the First Daughter lets out a feral grunt as her arm burns and slices, but she grits her teeth through the pain, all worth it to end this pest by his own ruse.

Nymh was a knife fighter, not a priestess. She predicted where he'd appear, and turned quickly, recovered quickly, even managing to take hold of him in his weakened state. Still, she underestimated shatterscourge. The hilt would then be again, in his other hand, his still free hand, and come up from below, the shards dancing around behind her, hopefully slashing her from behind on the way by, adding to that vampirism and cursed poison, to reform in his free hand. He struggled with her grip around him though, and didn't have the strength to thrust the blade into her again, slashing her arm slowly instead to release her grip.

Winner: Gevurah (Drow Allies)

Click here for the post-duel execution.