Duel:Jerralith v Sanlig
Duel Info
- Judges: Thea, Tiphareth, Svilfon
- Stakes: OOCFC semi-final advancement
- Assigned Duel Details: Jersher Hydromancers, fighting over the last Sugar Dipped Butterfly
- Rd/time: 3rds / 15 min
- Date: 08/08/2012
- Venue: Taylebeck’s Toadally Tasty Treats
- Decision: Sanlig
Venue
Taylebeck’s Toadally Tasty Treats
Jerralith vs Sanlig
Jerralith strides into Tiggy's shop on his wet webbed feet with a wide grin plastered on his lips. This happens to be a favored location of this most peculiar Jersher, having quite the sweet tooth, and here he has indulged on all sorts of tasty treats over the years. The door clatters shut behind him and his gaze sweeps across the establishment, coming to rest on his personal favorite, those sugar-dipped butterflies...only to see there's another patron with one in hand! Ah, no big deal, there's anoth-wait, no, it's the -last- one! This immediately infuriates the toad man, the anger that boils through him nearly sapping his slimy skin dry in an instant. "Stop right there you fickle fingered fiend! The last sugar-dipped butterfly is mine alone!" A staff is procured from his back, entitled SnickerSnack - yes, he named it with his famous sweet tooth in mind - and points it right at this newly gained rival. A torrent of rushing water explodes from the crown of SnickerSnack, speeding toward Sanlig with uncanny velocity. Before it reaches the other Jersher it splits into three prongs, resembling a trident of the gods as they aim to spear into Sanlig with such pressure that it sends him crashing through all sorts of delectable displays...they are unimportant, after all, the famous sugar-dipped butterfly is the only thing that matters this night!
Sanlig squats on a stump, having just begun to sate his appetite for candied critters. When his feast upon the sole remaining butterfly is so grievously interrupted, something seems to snap inside the warty creature. He wheels, turning on Jerralith with the speed only a craving addict can muster, only to see the water rushing at him! With a shrill-sounding croak, he hurls the butterfly back at Tiggy with a last look of remorse, and leaps! Somersaulting backwards off of the stump, the jersher avoids most of the terrible torrent, but one prong strikes him, sending him headlong at the shelf of bottles. Many of them shatter upon impact, sending a small waterfall to the floor, where it is joined posthaste by most of the remaining containers, which also shatter. Chanting in his undulating native tongue, Sanlig calls upon the spilled liquid to rise, shivering through the air toward Jerralith in a mass of tendrils. The whiskey seeks out his enemy's face, in hopes of blinding him to the danger of the rest of beverages, which attempt to force their way in through nostrils and mouth so that they can stop, almost solidly, in the other jersher's airway, either suffocating him or forcing him to find water to utilize his gills. Almost petulantly, the remaining unbroken bottles hurl themselves, shakily, at Jerralith's hopefully struggling form, propelled by the manipulation of the liquid inside of them.
Jerralith gives a victorious cheer when Sanlig is sent sprawling into those bottles, but his joy is short lived when he sees that his foe is a fellow magician of water, like him, and these containers hold quite nasty surprises that are rushing straight toward him! Crossing either of his hands above his eyes, the whiskey sprays into his skin, thankfully not robbing him of vision, but the other tendrils that seek his mouth and nostrils are a different story. They force their way in and send him gurgling madly while the bottles slam into his form, sending him stumbling this way and that, slamming into racks of treats here and there and making Tiggy cry out in an angry protest. The bottles aren't the true danger here, however - it is the liquid that slowly seeks to choke him, and this he has to remedy befor eit become a catastrophy. Opening his mouth wide, the business end of SnickerSnack is forced into it and water immediately sprays in, sending him gurgling further as the liquid of the hyrdromancer sloshes around with the rest of it, his own magic serving quite well in extracting the foreign fluid and ending up in the back of his throat. With so much water in his mouth he looks almost comical, swollen to a disgusting degree before he opens it once more and the fluid is belched and sprayed outward in a watery beam, spewing all over the ground near Sanlig until it is all forced out of Jerralith. Coughing awkwardly, SnickerSnack is pointed toward this soggy mess and instantly the fluids gather together and begin to heat significantly, boiling up into a hideously hissing mass of steam. The superheated steam converges around Sanlig and swirls about, aiming to boil through his skin and deliver only the worst sort of agony to one who would dare think about taking the last sugar-dipped butterfly!
Sanlig cannot help but ribbet in dismay as all of his hard work sprays out onto the floor, but he has little time to focus on that. The room has suddenly become a cooking pot, and Sanlig's one saving grace is that Jerralith did not think to heat the water up slowly, so Sanlig is able to discern the danger almost at once. All the same, the jersher's legs and feet begin to cook slightly, sending him hopping and skipping in a wild, almost comical dance. A jet of water sears along his side, blistering his already bumpy skin, and he decides upon a different course of action. Utilizing one of the few physical gifts the gods saw fit to give his kind, Sanlig springs frantically, making his landing upon the bar. Another painful jump takes him to the opposite side of the room from the boiling torrent. Knowing that he must act quickly, Sanlig opens his mouth with a snap, letting his long, extendable tongue flash out like a whip. Fastened to the sticky appendage are a set of wickedly sharp bone hooks, enchanted by a long time friend and rival; a rare jersher electromancer. They bite hungrily for the other's tough skin, the thin points easily able to slide in to deliver their magical payload: pure electric shock, enough to addle the other jersher's mind if he is not careful. Sanlig's tongue jerks back at once, without the hooks, so that he can chant once more, calling upon the few remaining unbroken bottles. The corks burst free and the liquid, the only liquid not currently boiling, shoots out, as Sanlig tries his hardest to splash it all over his enemy, not much of an attack in and of itself, but enough to send the blue arc of his insidious weapon lancing all over Jerralith's body, perhaps neutralizing the threat of that tasty-sounding staff. The jersher's chanting is often interrupted by little ribbets of pain, however, as the burns begin to ache most dreadfully.
Jerralith again erupts in a happy sort of cry, a ribbity laugh while Sanlig is cooked by the vicious steam and sent hopping madly about the establishment. The sight of that tongue jabbing toward him like a sword isn't so dangerous in itself, but his magically attuned senses probe those little hooks fastened to it, and he immediately knows fear; electricity is deadly indeed, and the staff is brought into motion as well as his webbed feet, leaping nimbly aside to avoid a series of tonguing jabs as well as those splashing liquids from the bottles. A bottle lies hazardously on the floor though, and as he is not truly looking where he's leaping, he gives a ribbity yelp and he's unceremoniously sent dropping to the floor. As such, the latest strike of that tongue does not miss, and the electrical payload is sent coursing through the water upon his slimy flesh, ripping through his body and delivering awful agony! His limbs twitch involuntarily, and it is all he can do to give a shaky sort of command with his voice, and SnickerSnack responds in an instant. The water that's conducting those dangerous cords of lightning is sucked from his flesh and leaves only the current itself coursing through him, which disperses after a while. The pain is awful and he only shakily makes his way to his feet, eyeing Sanlig with somethign akin to hatred; this goes far beyond a sugary treat now! Cords of electricity spiral around the crown of his staff, suspended there from where SnickerSnack stole control of them, and Jerralith takes hold of the weapon and smashes it right into the floor! Something chaotic results; another torrent of water pumps forth, larger than the last with electrical currents coursing through them. Utilizing some of the last of his magical reserves this night, Jerralith ribbits out a command and the torrent splits in two, approaching Sanlig's body from either side. Not only are they laced with electricity, but the sheer pressure of the watter is truly hazardous, nearly capable of utterly crushing him.
Sanlig's already huge eyes bug out all the more as his attack goes so horribly awry. There is nothing for it but to charge at his enemy full-tilt, in hopes of avoiding what is sure to be his demise. He leaps forward, but the burns to his legs and feet send him at an angle as he tries to avoid the pain, and so he is clipped by one of the torrents, the sheer force dislocating his shoulder and sending him spinning, body pulsating with the shock, into the collection of stumps and stools that stand before Tiggy's ruined bar. It is only that that saves him from the rest of the shock, however, as the columns of water smash into and through the wall where he had stood not a moment ago, creating a pool of water that sizzles with energy for a moment or two. A webbed appears from the wreckage of seats, latching onto the bar. Painstakingly, Sanlig hauls himself up with his one remaining usable arm, until he can crouch on the floor, facing Tiggy who, now somewhat frightened, hides by his candies, clutching that precious butterfly. It is that brief glimpse that gives Sanlig the will to go on, to turn and face his enemy one last time. He is exhausted now, and hungry. So hungry. Perhaps the pain from his wounds cause him to hallucinate, or perhaps he has wanted something this all along, but he musters the very last of his magical might, sucking the moisture from around the room and, given that this is a swamp, there is a considerable amount. He gathers it behind Jerralith, and with a croaked shout sends it rushing forth, hopefully catching his enemy in the sudden, unexpected rush. As the water and, hopefully, Jerralith come streaming forward, Sanlig's warty mouth opens up. Wider and wider it stretches, until the jersher's jaws can move no more, and there he waits. The water now tries to lock itself around its unwilling passenger, if Jerralith is indeed there, so as to barrel the hapless jersher headfirst into Sanlig's waiting maw, which would then of course snap closed in an attempt to actually eat his enemy!
Jerralith's breathing is painful and interrupted; not only from the sheer amount of magical energy he's expended, but the moisture that was sucked from his skin with the currents in tow leaves him with little in the way of breath. Those electrical burns still cause his features to contort in agony as well as simply making him give off a foul stench, and he can do little as the moisture condenses into a rush of water and takes him for a ride. It does allow him to breathe easier, thank the gods, but the danger is clear when he sees that he is racing straight for his opponent's open mouth! The staff he holds - the crown broken off now but still mostly intact - is his final lifeline this evening. Just as he nears Sanlig's gaping maw, the staff is shoved right in there, holding his cheeks apart in a comical sight. It holds Sanlig's mouth open long enough for Jerralith to stick his webbed feet along Sanlig's body, grasping the staff that hinges his foe's mouth open while water rushes over him and into his rival's mouth, weathering this wave of water. Only when the threat of being eaten is surely gone does he pry the staff from Sanlig's mouth and his webbed feet come peeling off of his body with a stomach churning 'pop', falling to the floor and giving a sorely weakened ribbit...only hoping he can claim that sugar-dipped butterfly for all of this trouble.
Overtime Round
Sanlig rages, albeit silently, when his enemy once more eludes him. Hunger drives him now, the sweet taste of the butterfly forgotten in his cannibalistic desire to consume Jerralith. He shouts out the words to his spell, in and of themselves sounding much like curses, as he vomits up the water that was so woefully devoid of his enemy's flesh. The water spews out about Jerralith's form, forming not into a puddle, like one would expect of water, but rather in a more viscous state, oozing like jelly about whatever parts of the other jersher touch the floor. Like a mouse trap snapping shut, the water solidifies, not frozen but rather held packed in a way that only magic can accomplish in hopes of holding the enemy to the ground and, perhaps, even holding that cursed staff, while Sanlig's true attack makes itself known. His words change, now speaking spells that were thought long forgotten and banished. His magic focuses on the liquid within Jerralith's own eyeballs as Sanlig tries to make them rupture outward. He is tired, though, and so follows the magical attack with a physical one of the same nature. Leaping forward, he attempts to claw at the other's eyes, perhaps intending to help free the liquid that he is trying to manipulate within them.
Jerralith makes his way to his feet with staff in tow - it is not touched by Sanlig's jelly - only to have this viscous substance entrap them, leaving his webbed toes nailed to the floor in what feels like awfully weighty jell-o. Suddenly the similarly ravenous Jersher feels his eyes buldging and twitching, making him scream in pain and shock! His own magic subtly works to fight against this wicked attempt to burst the fluid out of his eyes and leave him sightless, but it is awfully difficult to concentrate with Sanlig suddenly clawing at him as well! His staff is once more brought into play, swatting away such attempts as his eyes contort hideously, making oblong like shapes then squares, shifting about in a bizarre, puzzling display as their magic fights in an invisible war. Whacking Sanlig's limbs away with a cry, it is all Jerralith can do to stick the somewhat broken SnickerSnack against the other Jersher's skin, focusing his magicked effort with what's left of the staff a a conduit. It seeks to suck the moisture off of Sanlig's skin like a Shop Vac, aiming to leave him nothing more than a dried husk that's incapable of breathing abother breath! His own tongue jabs out, seeking to smack into the Sanlig's head time and time again, leaving him too dizzy to form an effective counterspell he hopes. All while, his eyes continue to strain and shift, nearly driven mad by all of this chaos...
Sanlig hasn't the energy left to cast more spells, but he is fully aware of what is happening as soon as the slimy drops begin to move across his hide. He lets go of his enemy, long legs kicking against whatever surface presents itself in an effort to get away from the life-draining staff. Jerralith's tongue smashes him full in the eyeball, perhaps a just revenge for his own insidious attack, for it crushes his eye to jelly, which begins to move downward towarf the staff. Shrieking in pain, he kicks out again, forcing himself back and away from the staff, finding shelter in the water on the floor which, his concentration broken, now flows freely. One arm swinging loosely, one eye destroyed, Sanlig pulls himself to a crouch once more, knowing that one way or another, this must end.