Duel:Harg v Pilar, Sykule, and Xzavior

Part of the Thy Kingdom Come Arc

Location: Northern Outpost
Duelists: Pilar, Sykule, and Xavior (Team Hildegarde) vs Harg (Team Balgruuf, NPCed by Trajek)
Judges: Hildegarde and Kasyr
Stakes: If Hildegarde's army wins, the chained Eyrie animals are freed and unharmed, spire remains structurally intact, and the Eyrie's bestiary air force joins the battle. If Harg wins, 50% of the tower itself collapses, harming 50% of the imprisoned Eyrie mounts inside.

Northern Outpost

Battle! Glory! War! These were the things that Aramoth's Chosen craved the most, and now it seemed at least two of those things were upon Frostmaw. But what was Harg's duty? How was the beast master to gain his glory? His was to march these two mammoths with covers over their eyes and a pair of cauldrons sloshing on their sides. His was to feed the animals, to clean to cages, to tend to the weak or cull the dying. His was the furthest from glory in his giant mind, and it had nigh burned his soul black so much he hated his task. His pair of mammoths could sense his anger and forced him to pull harder on the leash that he was leading them. "Come on, you beasts, or I'll stick you myself!" And he could do it, too, if the giant proportioned pitchfork on his bare back, his lower body the only part of his frame that was clothed. He pulled them to the Northern Outpost, to the large, open area before it. A perfect area for a battle.

Xzavior stood not so far from the compound, looking at the place with vague interest. He wasn't in the greatest state of mind but he wasn't going to abandon the mission because of it. He could deal with it himself at a later time. Frowning a bit he looked back at the other two with him before motioning for them to be quiet and moving forward and lifting his hand. With that snow started to fall, gradually at first but then it picked up until finally it was coming down as bad as the worst snowstorms. Had it been anywhere else that is. The wind that accompanied that snow just added to the blinding affect. With a sigh turned back to Pilar and Sykule, "Ready for this?"

Pilar stood next to Sykule as Xzavior conjured the snowstorm. She was wearing her battle armor, sharkskin and hagfish leathers covering her, head to toe. A slightly curved black blade, about a foot in length, was sheathed at her hip. Her hand rested on the young dragon's side as the wind whipped around them and the blinding snow flew through the air. This was it. The day she'd been training for. She hoped her meager courage wouldn't fail her now. With nary a sound, she climbed onto the dragon's back, into the saddle in front of his wings, careful not to brush against him with the sharkskin leather of her suit. It was highly abrasive, and could shred though wood with little problem. While dragonscale was made of sterner stuff, she didn't want to take any risks. To Xzavior, she only nodded. Ready as she'd ever be. Which was not very. Oh gods.

Sykule raised his head to the skies, watching as the snowstorm formed. Perfect. The dragon had nothing but a simple leather saddle wrapped around his torso, with his feathers fluttering about in the cold wind. They were white as snow on his face and wings, and slightly darker around his underbelly. He looked back to Pilar, to make sure she was safe on his back, then turned to face Xzavior with a saurian grin as an answer to his question. He approached the naga and positioned himself behind him, unfolding his wings and beating them twice before grabbing Xzavior by his arms and torso with his talons and soaring quickly through the skies towards The Eyrie's spire.

Harg shivered violently as the sudden snowstorm came down. Shamans had warned him of no impending storms, but the warning of new arrivals came from the mammoths. Even masked, even subdued, they shook their heads and pawed at the ground, all but pointing in the direction of its source. And then there were the beatings of wings; not wind, but gusts against the wind, clashing with it, and it was in that moment Harg cursed loudly. He ran to the outpost, to his former destination, and, with a quick pull and push, sent wheels to turning and locks to squealing. A panel of doors struggled open, but the creatures within them did not. Wyverns, six in all, flew with their own thundering flaps of wings into the sky. Months of captivity with little food had leaned their muscles and worn down what little intelligence they had. Starved, they now hungered. Freed, they would now feed. In the storm, tossed on the air, they smelled their kin, and on any other day the group would’ve climbed higher and searched for easier prey. But mad and all but starved, they surged forth. They brought fury instead of tactic, throwing claws and teeth against dragon scale and whatever beings were upon it. Like lice or like locusts, they sought to attach themselves upon Sykule’s body and wings, the softer parts of the dragon, to gorge themselves on whatever didn’t break their gnashing teeth. They fought to feed or die even if that meant the former caused a falling impact of the latter.

Xzavior was lucky he hadn't need his sight in a storm. Heat sensory came as a plus with his cryomancy so when the wyverns came from the tower Xzavior was already waving a hand, as best he could with Sykule's hold, and some of the snow that was flying in the wyvern's directions quickly morphed into more deadly shards of ice. He didn't want to, but with how aggressively the creatures were going to make their assault there wasn't much of a choice. Hopefully they will still have a chance to at least glide down to the ground. His aim was more towards their wings then anything. Though he wasn't going to place his life on the chance that they could still fly. Once the ice was on course for the wyverns he shouted to Sykule "Drop me off at the top and I'll secure it for us! You try to lose them!" He knew that he was weighing the dragon down. Without the added weight of Xzavior there was a way better chance that Sykule could get rid of them.

Pilar clutched Sykule tightly as they flew higher and higher into the air. She wasn't especially afraid of heights, really. She was a vampire and could survive falls that would be lethal to other creatures. But the Eyrie tower was tall, and even she would end up a smear on the stone if she dropped from that height. Her keen ears caught the creaking of doors opening, even through the howling wind, and she spotted the shapes flying towards them. "Mister Sykule! Look out!" she cried, and then the wyverns were upon them. She held Sykule in a vice grip and flattened herself on his back as claws swiped at them and teeth gnashed. They would tear through her armor like it was nothing. This armor was made to deal with giants, not dragons! As Xzavior tried to slow their approach, she threw her arm out and concentrated hard. Balls of fire formed in front of her palm and were launched forward. They were mere illusions, but so long as the wyverns believed them real, they would burn.

Sykule flew through the snowstorm, flapping his wings constantly both due to the strong wind currents and the weight of his passengers. He certainly wouldn't be able to keep up flying for too long so he had to reach The Eyrie fast. If he were on his own, he could have easily outmaneuvered the wyverns, but there wasn't much he could do while carrying his friends. The dragon made a sharp turn to his left, narrowly avoiding one of the wyvern's sharp teeth from ripping a piece of his wing. -Crap, they're fast- he thought to himself, breathing heavily due to the effort. He started to gain altitude, trying to catch an updraft, when he felt a sharp pain on his tail. Sykule instinctively swiped it, trying to hit his unseen foe, and continued to ascend. "You don't have to fight them if you don't want to, Pilar. Jump with Xzavior and release the beasts. I'll be fine." The dragon spoke telepathically to his friend, more worried about harming the girl with his dragon blood than his own safety. Once he was high enough, he folded his wings and dived towards one of the tower's openings.

Harg worked quickly on the ground beneath the titanic battle that happened within the sky. More levers were worked, more wheels and locks squealed, and dual panels opened a second pen onto the fantastical fray. Something larger in mass than a wyvern was curled in sleep, its head tucked under its large wing. Its wings twitched with the change of temperature and the snow that melted upon its scales. It was not until the first of the wyverns fell upon it did its angular, draconian head lift towards the heavens. It watched as two of wyverns fell, their bodies broken and wings shredded by the weaponized shards of ice. Each thudded upon its body and careened of its agitated tail. It growled deeply when one more that thought it was burning fell and writhed upon its draconic body. Two more of its brethren were tossed by the wings or tail of a dragon; too weak from starvation, they could do little but fall, flapping madly to ease their descent. The last, the leader, could do little but throw back its head and roar in defeat. The draconic creature had seen and heard enough. It lumbered up to its feet, its wings flexing life and limberness into themselves. And with a roar that thundered as loud as the winter storm itself, it flung itself into the air. By a comparison, it was not too much smaller than a younger dragon, but it bore weight upon its bones that made it bigger than those that called the Frostmaw Mountains home. It surged up beneath Sykule, its wings beating hard, its mouth thrown wide as if to launch a breath attack that dragons are known for. But all that came was a second roar, a warning of sorts, as the frost drake threw itself against the dragon. Its goal was to entangle itself with the dragon, to foul its wings and force Sykule to fall form the sky and be forced to do battle on the land. If those who rode upon the dragon or were grasped by it also were injured, Harg would be all the happier.

Xzavior watched as the last of the wyverns fell to the ground. As they neared the tower Xzavior gritted his teeth as he swung his weight back then forwards, slipping his hands free from Syk's grip he didn't notice the other dragon's ascent until it was almost too late. Had he been there a moment earlier he would have had to deal with the dragon slamming him into the other. Now all he had to deal with was not getting smashed into the ground as he landed. The dragon's roars distracted him enough that when he went to summon up a snow drift for them to land on it was only thick enough to cushion the worst of the fall. For himself anyways. With a thud he felt the air rush from his body, groaning he quickly tossed a hand and added to the snow pile so that Pilar would have a more smooth landing. Now on solid ground he took a moment to regain his breath before looking back at the two fighting dragons. "I don't think I can cast anything without hitting the both of them..." He growled disappointedly, he didn't want to leave the young drake by himself but Xzavior couldn't give assistance in this one.

Pilar leaped from Sykule's back towards the tower, arms flailing. She barely managed to catch the ledge, missing the snow drift entirely. The jolt from the sudden stop was almost enough to cause her to let go, but she held fast. With a grunt of effort, she pulled her slight frame up and into the opening recently vacated by one of the wyverns. She looked back out at the battle. "We have to help him somehow..." She darted towards the interior of the cell. There were bars here, to keep the creatures from wandering freely, but they were spaced widely enough for a human--or in this case, a vampire and a naga--to slip through. Pilar did just that, looking around the interior of the spire. There were many barred cells going around the perimeter of the spire, along with additional openings, though these seemed to lead into apartments. There was no way up or down for those without wings. They were stuck on this floor. Cursing to herself in her native tongue, Pilar did the only thing she could think to do, and traversed the walkway around the spire, peering into each cell. More wyverns and dragons, griffons, anghas, and giant birds were locked away. Were these bars always here or were they a recent addition? Suddenly a voice cut through the quiet. ~Wait, come back.~ Pilar stopped. She took a few steps backwards and peered into the gloom of the cell she'd just passed. Within was a winged serpent, with scales of blue and plumage of white. A couatl, she realized. "W-were you talking to me?" she asked. ~Yes,~ the couatl said within her mind. Xzavior would hear nothing. ~You are not like the ones who keep us trapped here. Please, free us!~ "How?" Pilar asked. "I-I don't see any way to open your cage!" The couatl slithered forward. ~The levers, on the ground.~ Pilar walked away from the cage and looked down. There was a giant several stories below them. He must have been the one freeing the creatures to fight them! "Xzavior, we have to get down there," she said. She looked back at the couatl's cage, making a note of the number. She looked at Xzavior. "Can you make a slide?"

Sykule heard the creature's roar just seconds before he saw it coming for him. He took a quick glance inside the tower, to make sure his friends landed safely, before he braced himself for the impact, trying to avoid a fatal injury. There was nothing they could do to stop the drake. The creature hit him hard, scathing Sykule's flanks with it's claws, and his momentum drove them both upwards for a second before they started to fall. It was a blur of scales and feathers, struggling with each other, as Sykule tried to keep the drake's jaws from digging into his neck with his sharp talons, while he tried to do the same to the drake. The dragon waited for the right moment, as they approached the ground, to deliver a strong kick with his hinder claws, in a last effort to break free from the drake before they crashed into the ground, giving him enough time to try and land safely somewhere below.

Harg let out a boisterous laugh when the first of the attackers fell to the ground. It did not take the giant long to lope over to his mammoths, who threw their heads to the ground to tear at their blinders and pawed at the ground. One hand freed the leash that held them together while the other hand tugged the leather strap that held both blinders connected. The bull mammoths reared back, one after the other, forcing Harg to stumble and crawl away to safety. In unison they saw Xzavior where he stood, and in unison they thundered forward to spike him on horns or trample him under hooves. // The last wyvern had remained in the air watching the fray from a safer distance. It saw Pilar make her lip and fly-fall into one of the animals’ cages. It flew onto the ledge as soon as she turned to the telepathic conversation with the couati. Here was a creature that was smaller than the plummeting dragon, and would be far easier to take down without its saurian guardian. It let out a raspy, tired roar before it lunged its snapping jaws at Pilar. // The draconic battle was one for the ages; Sykule, the more hale and more present dragon versus the weak and hungry drake. The drake nearly let out a celebratory roar when it found itself above Sykule guiding the dragon’s back to the unforgiving ground. But a hair’s breadth before the time when broken bones was an assured thing, it was thrown. It toppled through the air, landing in a heap that had it sliding against stone and tumbling down the northern pathway. But while the mammoths charged, while the wyvern lunged, and the frost drake slid, Harg had readied his work tool-cum-weapon. He was in mid fall from a hard running jump, the giant’s pitchfork aiming to pierce its long throat with a force that would have it stuck within stone.

Xzavior muttered his own curse as he saw the two mammoths charge his way. It was not going to be an easy task taking down those things... but maybe... Quickly formulating a plan he chose to dodge out of the way of their goring tusks and barely managed to slip his tail from under their trampling feet. He hated to think of what might have happened had he not. If he had the time he might have shuddered about it. Instead he whipped around and tossed his hands up to where Pilar was. If she looked over the edge she would find that the slide was forming itself from where her platform was and spiraled all the way down. It was even cupped so she wouldn't slide out when she went to take it. "Sorry, that's all I can do!" He was starting to feel the effects of all the magic he was throwing around. It didn't help that he had wasted so much more the night before. Panting with exhaustion he looked over at the mammoths and flicked a hand out. Pillars the size of a giant's fist rocketed from the walls to slam into their sides and head to hopefully wear them down then knock them out. He really hoped he didn't have much else to deal with.

Pilar shrieked as the wyvern charged her. The couatl inside the cage hissed and reached its tail out through the bars in an attempt to trip the wyvern up. Pilar dove out of the way, and just so happened to land on the slide. She grabbed at the edges to stop her descent, but the ice was too smooth. She ended up sliding down on her back, headfirst, screaming in terror the entire way. She hit the ground hard, stars exploding before her eyes. Holding her head and groaning, she barely managed to get back to her feet before the wyvern landed on her. She'd have a hell of a bump tomorrow. She bolted towards the levers and searched for the proper one. "Come on, come on..." she murmured, panic starting to rise up as the wyvern drew nearer. Finally she found the lever she was looking for, and pulled it. Within seconds, the couatl who'd spoken to her was free. With an enraged hiss, the couatl launched itself at the wyvern, aiming to wrap its thick, powerful coils around its reptilian cousin's throat, fangs bared and snapping at the wyvern's torn wings. Pilar, frightened, drew her knife. She was terrified and trembling, but the adrenaline was pumping and she knew she had to act. Screaming for no real reason, she rushed forward to deliver a savage, piercing blow to the wyvern's belly. The armor would protect her from the draconic blood, assuming it didn't soak through the material... or get on her exposed face.

Sykule glided at blinding speed towards the ground, trying his best to slow down his fall until he crashed in the snow. His heart was still racing fast and his mind fuzzy when he heard a peculiar sound. Laughing? He turned his head towards it, just in time to see the giant leaping towards him, weapon in hand. The dragon quickly unfurled his wings and beat them with all his strength, sending himself backwards with a strong gust of air towards the giant. He barely could manage to land on his feet, his left leg ached, probably sprained from the fall, and he could taste his own blood inside his mouth, but mind was filled with nothing but wrath. The giant would pay for his affront. The dragon focused his wrath, and his emotions into willpower, he would not be defied by such a lowly creature. Sykule felt his magic flow through him as he looked the giant in the eyes and roared. He intended to bend the giants will with his magic, something he could not do with a feral creature like the drake. The message he passed was clear. "Fear me". It's effectiveness would depend on whether or not the giant had a will strong enough to resist his own.

Harg landed on the stone in an eruption of sparks. With his pitchfork hitting only rock, the impact jarred it free from his hands, the feeling from his arms, and quite nearly his shoulders out of their sockets. And it was in that manner he stood before the dragon, armless in quite every sense of the word. The death rattle from the wyvern mingled with the deep bellows of pain from the mammoths, but soon all was consumed by Sykule’s bone-rattling roar. He did not fear the dragon at first, only that he could not die with weapon in hand like a true giant. But the roar was wearing down his will, and right before his bowels were evacuated he was saved by a disoriented mammoth. The beast waddled more than wandered into the Dragon, and if it did not stop the dragon from roaring then it most certainly brought the giant back to the real. Wounded mammoths, a frost drake down, and a full clutch of wyverns massacred: this was not good at all. He needed reinforcements, and with that thought lodged firmly in the fore of his mind, he turned, fled, but would be back!

Pilar, Sykule, and Xzavior win!