Duel:Hadrian v Kelovath
- Judges: Svilfon, Vaidhe, Rawnie
- Stakes: OOCFC Round 2 Advancement
- Assigned Duel Details: Drow Matrons dueling to be the High Priestess for the Spider Goddess. Each duelist has 1 minor magical weapon, 1 moderately powerful, miscellanious magical item."
- Rd/time: 3rds / 15 min
- Date: 07/25/2012
- Venue: Matron`s Room
- Decision: Hadrian
Hadrian vs. Kelovath
Kelovath entered the room rather quickly. Almost like she was being chased into it. She wasn't one for fighting, but to become High Priestess, she would do what was needed. Hurried into the room like she was, the drow quickly scanned the room for anything of use. Right away, a staff was spotted and pulled down from it's place upon the wall. Along with the staff, a strange glowing orb was picked up as well. She didn't know what it was used for, but with staff and orb in hand, the woman re-positioned herself on the left side of the door. Whenever her pursuer entered the room, she would forcefully swing the weapon down onto her opponent. Whether the weapon connected with the other Matron or not, the staff would spark with magic. It wasn't much, but enough that once it's motion came to a stop, lightening would be sent outward. A surprise for the pair of Matrons, no doubt.(under time limit)
Charearl of House Melund. Upon that otherwise serene face, flawless in the faint light of the winding staircase, is a gruesome sneer. The Spider mother beckons her, beseeches her within her mind to flay the flesh from the back of her rival--to likewise send this troubling soul to the Web, so that the Goddess might feast upon the meager sacrifice. Charearl conquers the staircase, showing little strain to her nimble legs beneath the tight leathers that creek in displeasure. Kelo's breathing, hurried from her quick ascent as well, is the only hint to the incoming blow. The Drowess recoils upon those tightly-wound calf muscles, forcing herself away at a seemingly unearthly angle, whilst simultaneously batting away the gnarled staff with her free hand. Fierce red eyes light up even more, beneath the excruciating pain of that morsel of lightning, to brandish it's godawful presence throughout her entirety. Charearl backpedals, her stark white braid rhythmic in it's swaying, as she draws forth a grisly cudgel. The gnarled piece of wood, studded with random metal protrusions, harbors a keen gleam to its body. To lay truth to the meaning behind her name--Char swings that terrible weapon--poison begins to froth from the grain. Ebony lips mutter in panted words, to beseech her Goddess strength, as that weapon screams impending impact to Kelo's skull, should she not be quick enough to evade. (under time limit)
Kelovath was also hit with a bit of the recoiling magic from the staff. It was completely unexpected and the lightening was enough to cause a very temporary pause in all motion. Once the woman snapped back into reality, with orb tightly in hand and her staff now laying somewhere unknown to her, her crimson gaze caught sight of the cudgel being swung in her direction. Being smaller than her counterpart gave her a slight advantage for speed, but it simply wasn't enough to evade the weapon entirely. The cudgel sunk deep into her right arm, poison and all embedding into her flesh. A terrible, gut wrenching scream escaped past her lips. At the same time, the orb that is tightly wrapped in her hand was sent up and out, unintentionally being slammed into the other Matron's head, if it were to be allowed. And if it were allowed, the orb, much like the staff, would explode outward with lightening, but this time, the whole focus would have been sent right into Charearl and because of the orbs' power, the magic would only be used on Char. Instantly, Kelo could feel the poison within his blood stream, causing her body to weaken. As quickly as she could, the Matron pulled away from Char and climbed onto the bed, readying herself for whatever her adrenaline thinks she should be ready for. From her perspective, it would be difficult to know how the orb truly reacted with the other woman. (Under the time limit)
The mist of blood, as it sprays out in violent conclusion of cudgel to flesh, forces a withering smile to don upon Charearls lips. Too drawn into this momentary revel in first blood, does the Drowess make her first mistake. That orb, it's presence only minimally acknowledge before now, slams into the side of her head. Pain unchecked, unbridled, ripples through her skull--the added element lighting her nerves with an unbearable fire, the marrow in her bones beginning to feel cooked. Alas, before all is lost, Charearl's foe retreats to the bed and she is left to stumble about, blinking past the spots of light in her vision. Afterimages, as if repeatedly watching herself slip up. Charearl will not allow such a foolish error again! The Priestess forgoes her previous choice of melee combat and resorts to what she knows best; Divine Magic, granted to her through the blessed Ascendi, Astrala, herself. As she shakes herself loose from that harrowing blast of lightning magic and traumatic blunt damage, Charearl begins to concentrate. Her words part to emit a silent prayer, a chant in the Drowic tongue, whilst her hands, cudgel held tightly as the conduit of power, gesture in bold waves. Chant complete, the Priestess hisses, heralding the coming of the Divine. A roaring bellow of fire erupts from the business end of that cudgel--a fire black as the heart of the Drowess wielding it--and spews out like a fountain at Kelo and the bed beneath. The dark fire quickly catches up the bedsheets beneath its unholy fervor, a personified intent to devour the Drowess made clear by the way it sweeps in.
Kelovath felt the poison starting to ware down her body. The pain was building steadily and her crimson gaze began to become unfocused. Very roughly, she could see her staff, laying on the floor, still within the room. That's what would keep her alive. Seeing now that her weak attempt to defend herself had actually succeeded, a small ray of hope shot through her. Except she could actually feel the shot, so more than likely, it was the poison still working within her. The mix of the poison and the slight fear of dying kept Kelo on the bed for now, simply standing there until she finally saw that Charearl was working on something more. Almost in a panic, she attempted to remove herself from the bed. Unfortunately, the damn sheets caught her feet and sent her face first onto the floor of the room. Dulled reflexes caused her to hit her head against the floor, but nothing too harmful. Enough to daze and also enough to keep her body still along enough for the flames to painfully scorch the leg that remained caught in the sheets. The pain was almost enough to render her unconscious. But this was no normal fight. She was here to survive and to win. Reaching out, she grasped the staff tightly and sent what seemed to be the last ounce of magic lightening at Char, aiming to blow her away entirely. Again, fate had stepped in and the blast from the staff slid Kelo backward and her charred leg untangled itself. To survive, she needed to escape this room. Surely, Char would continue to stop that advance, one way or another.
The lightning, Charearl expects, as it arcs out with uncanny speed to spear through her body once again. Instincts force the Drowess into a quick dive, hoping to avoid that horrid burst of damnable energy, but too little, too late. The electricity, far her superior in speed, lances into her right arm, forcing her fingers, along with her body, to spasm. The result of this is the Priestess losing her only weapon, to clatter to the stone floor, as she herself follows in its wake. Her knees catch her from flailing face first, but beneath that torrent of electrical damage, thrice times, her body begins to feel the effects. Charearl issues a howl of pain, crimson eyes livid with the passion to end this! And so she draws her only other magical item, previously disguised as a hairpin within that aforementioned braid, and slams the needle point into the cold hard floor. Immediately, the floor beneath herself is inundated with a wave of sweeping kinetic energy, and she rises. Charearl of House Melund rises to her feet, bathing in the light beneath herself, with a renewed sense of power. Short-lived as it may be, it is all she can do to harness the divine magics once more and do away with her bitter rival! "My Goddess!" Comes the peel of her voice, calling out in bold testament her desire to draw upon the Spider Queen's powers. Her arms lift, and a diaphanous light erupts from the focal point between her palms. The light lashes out, brashly whipping to and fro, in dire want to lacerate Kelo into tiny bits of flesh and bone. Charearl refuses to collapse after the issuance of the raw energy, but her earlier regal posture is now that of a stiffened, slumped hermit.
Kelovath does he best to adjust her stance as the lightening is busy with Char. She kneels as carefully as she can, eyes closing and going into a deep prayer, she basically begs to the Spider Queen. In short, she had attempted to explain the difference in power. How she has yet to ask for more during this engagement. To show the Spider Queen that she was indeed the stronger of the Matrons. That she didn't need the power, but as of the moment, she was requesting it, not demanding it. The Spider Queen was not quick to answer. The same arm that was inflicted with the flesh wound and poison was cleanly cut from it's place, the now dead limb falling to the floor. Before Char would even be able to attempt another swing of the powerful light, it seemed the Spider Queen answered Kelo. No power was transferred in any way. It was simply removed from Char, for the time being. Had the Spider Queen chosen her Priestess, or was there something else in waiting? All Kelo knew was, the staff in hand was useless, she was in an extreme amount of pain, but she wanted nothing more than to remove herself from the burning room, along with removing Char's head from her shoulders.
Charearl is perturbed when her magic is ceased, unbidden by the commander of it. She quickly realizes that her rival is finished, and that the Spider Mother herself has made clear of this by way of ending her wrath prematurely. All to divine plan, it seems. Charearl scoops up that meaty cudgel, a toothy grin to splay across ebon lips, "I will enjoy squishing you, maggot," Her voice far too feminine and singsong to suit that vicious statement. The Drowess fights off the urge to give in to the pain that courses her body, if only to step as regally as she can towards Kelo, nose held high. A leather heeled-boot lifts up off the ground and kicks forward, unceremoniously forcing the opposite Priestess to fall to the flat of her back with a violent shove. "I am the true High Priestess! Your death is as assured as my rise to power!" She spits down at her beaten foe, tendrils of that stark white hair breaking free of its otherwise tight braid to whip about her contorted face. And with the utterance of her claim, does she descend upon her enemy. That mighty cudgel lashes out hammering into Kelo's face time and again. She flails wildly, her tight leathers quickly sullying beneath the torrent of spurting blood, crushed skull, and brain matter. With one last violent swing, Charearl sinks her weapon into the remainder of Kelo's face. Or what was. Charearl rises, prostrating herself above the mangled corpse below, as if performing a show for an audience not at hand.