Duel:Jerralith v Vaako
Jerralith vs Vaako
- Judges: Keter, Arysel, Hvitr
- When: 9/27/08
- Stakes: 10K Gold, +0 Custom
- Rd/time: 3/15 min
- Venue: Trist’oth Arena - Saturday Night Fights: Week 4
- Decision: Jerralith, unanimous
Keter makes his way downward from his lofty perch in the prominent area of the arena. Standing between the two combatants he turns to face the crowd. "We have tonight for the D'Artes Underdark Fighting Challenge, the Champion Jerralith versus the challenger Vaako, The Invader. Can the human fight off this mighty outsider? We'll find out tonight..." Keter turns to face the combatants, "Good luck to you both, lets see a good fight fellas", with that, the Drow trots up to his seat, sitting down to purvey the ensuing action.
Keter shouted, "Let The Battle, Begin!"
Dergious eyes the two combatants and grins, "A stinkin thin beard er a lizard! Who cares who wins?" He shouts loudly.
Jerralith stands across from Vaako within the arena, already appearing a bit worn; apparently the youth has already seen some combat this day, as evidenced by scar-like marks along his legs that are a sure product of rapid magical healing. Oddly enough, the twin axes are absent from the loops at his waist this evening, and the spell blade appears entirely weaponless as he leans down to a nearby pile of bones, plucking a rapier from the remains of some poor, unlucky bastard - giving it a testing swipe to ensure its durability, the talented-yet-arrogant man offers the preklek a sly grin before stepping forward into a run. About halfway to the intended destination, Jerralith kicks off of his feet and launches into the air with cat-like grace, though where he eventually makes his landing appears to be a little short of just before Vaako...a shimmering, almost glitter-like material can be seen in the dust between where the two face off, and with a sudden sweep of his booted left leg, this unknown additive is tossed into the air along with a cloud of dirt, right for the preklek's eyes! The pixie dust, undoubtedly magical in nature, will likely only further disorient the lizard man if it reaches his eyes and nose, and the spell blade moves in to capitalize on this; lunging forward, Jerralith shouts a simple word, "Chath!" True to the meaning, the rapier he holds erupts into flame, which is then thrust forth. Clearly, the youth's intent is to drive the burning weapon into Vaako's left leg just above the armored boot he wears, and cripple his mobility.
Vaako Turns to face the ugly dwarf and grunts as he hears the shout from the man, a soft smile crosses his lips “You’ll be next short one” This remark seems to be the preks first downfall as he doesn’t catch the sight of the human in his run. Turning back face his opponent, the assassin is caught of guard as the dirt cloud is tossed into his visage. The visor placed over his eyes does it job keeping the particles from his eyes, however his lower face was a different story. Taking in a deep breath the powder goes in though his nostril causing the prek to sneeze once, and once more. The second being more powerful then the first, thus causing the invader to take a quick step backwards. The distance between the rapier and the high ankle of the preklek grows by a slight inch. Causing the blade to miss its intended target, and scrape along the outsiders boots. Lowering his right hand down to the sheath, which holds the blade of his katana safe and snug inside. Vaako starts to take in the distance between the two as his left hand crosses his body to grip the hilt of the blade. His left leg is lifted and placed behind him. Placing the bulk of his own weight onto his hind foot. He quickly withdraws the blade swinging horizontally at the current foe, shifting his weight forward as he does. Wishing to place a slash into the human’s chest.
Jerralith grunts as the strike mostly misses, withdrawing to a defensive stance instantly as the preklek before him shifts his own, bringing up the rapier just in time to meet the katana that rushes out of its sheath with lethal intent. The rapier does not prove to be all that durable, drawing a shower of sparks from the contact with the opposite blade before an ominous 'SNAP' resounds, undoubtedly weakened by whatever unfortunate warrior wielded it before; with the sword broken, the unforgiving edge of the katana rushes in and catches along the chainmail, which thankfully offers enough protection to prevent the spell blade's chest from being split open...still, due to the sheer force, a portion of the armor is sliced away and falls to the ground, leaving Jerralith with a scowl as he takes a few steps back in retreat. Without a weapon once more, the once brazen youth searches the ground desperately for a suitable weapon, only to find...a whip? Wrinkling his nose in disgust at the practically useless weapon - after all, preklek's likely have tough scales - Jerralith nevertheless takes hold of the leather whip, uncoiling it with a testing 'SNAP!", not unlike the one that resounded when the rapier broke; again those grey eyes of the youth go searching, not for another weapon, but an opportunity...and finally he finds one in the set of nails and a spiked mace lying in a pile of bones near where Vaako stands. With a devilish grin spreading across his lips, Jerralith snaps out the weapon right for the same leg he attempted to strike earlier, seeking to coil the whip right around it snugly; then, summoning all of his strength, the human grunts in exertion before pulling back! Clearly, the idea is to send the lizard man into a stumbling trip...one that may send him onto the nails or perhaps the spiked mace and bones.
Vaako lets only the slyest of grins cross his face as he watches a portion of the humans armor and weapon fall to the ground below. Indeed the outlander skewers the grounds as well, looking for what weapon would be used he shakes his head as the human picks up a whip. “Make sure you know how to use it dirt grubber” he shouts just as the loud crack echoes though out the arena. As the leather extension is set on its way to bring down the assassin. Vaako mistakenly doubts the strength of his opponent. Looking down at his captured leg the prek lets a smirk cross his face, only for it to fade just as fast as a loud “Thud” is heard as the prek is dropped onto his back. Upon being dragged along the littered ground Vaako looks up in time just spot nails one would use to seal up a coffin. The looks of it being he was being drawn into their path. Starting to twist from side to side the assassin attempts to roll out of the way. Rather he has not the time, as his captured foot is penetrated armored on the top left free on the bottom proves to be the preks flaw as his foot is quickly impaled by the nails. Letting out a quick hiss, the prek sits up and quickly reaches into his side pouch and opens a small pouch in one of his pockets. A quick, as toxic as the liquids inside of the pouch escapes and fill the arena with a horrible smell. Reaching into the pouch the prek draws a small dagger. Raising his hand across his chest, the prek extends his hand and launches the poisoned dagger at the human’s throat.
Jerralith smirks slowly as his plan at least partially succeeds, tossing the whip aside -- after all, he can't drag the preklek along the ground -- and watching closely for his foe's next move. The horrid smell that comes from the pouch bombards the spell blade's olfactory senses, a wave of nausea overcoming as he holds a hand over his nose...one that only hours ago was broken before he was healed; perhaps misjudging the distance between himself and his lizard-like oppnoent, Jerralith's grey eyes widen considerably as the dagger sings for his neck, turning to run at the last moment as he raises an arm with the motion. Unfortunately for Jerralith, he is not quick enough - the projectile doesn't lodge itself into his neck due to his changed position, but it does find a home within his forearm, no doubt due to tossing his arm up at the last second; a spray of blood flies from the wound as the youth gives out an agonized shout, reaching over and dislodging the weapon from his flesh as soon as possible, which only tears the skin further, sending that crimson fluid trickling to the ground below. Now the wave of nausea grows -quite- real due to the poison, not to mention a numbing sensation within that now wounded left arm of his...keeping it as still as can be, Jerralith's gaze falls to the weapon that wounded him, which is still held within his opposite hand. Feeling his strength sapping, the spell blade that once lived in the very caves in the underdark begins a hushed chant, one that seems to feed from the unseen sources of magic; a thick cluster of ice suddenly forms along the bloodied blade of the dagger, giving it new life as a freshly enchanted weapon. Taking precise aim, the wounded human pitches this now heavy dagger straight for Vaako, speeding along likely with the help of some unspoken spell; the intended target is the presumably still kneeling preklek's chest, intent on not only piercing through his tough, scaly flesh, but to induce a freezing sensation with the frigid enchantment smothering the dagger. Meanwhile, Jerralith drops to his knees, placing his now free hand to his stomach as another pang of nausea and weakness hits.
Vaako upon the release of his blade the preklek desperately tries to pull his leg back to check on the wounds created by the nails. Yet doing so, the prek sneezes once again. Just as he tries to dislodge the pins the preks inner defense system tries to rid itself of the magical substance. Failing at removing the items. Vaako decides its best to give the battle his full attention and worry about his wounds later. Unseeing that the same poisoned blade that he had used was rushing at him, rather he had registered it as some item that was left from a previous battle. While still in his sitting position the assassin judges the speed, the distance and the power behind the throw. Raising his hand he goes to swipe the blade off its intended path. Though judging to early, the outlander shifts his hand down onto the blade of the weapon. A large gash is formed in his hand. His own blend of toxins working on him as well as hypothermia starts to settle in, the paryliss of the toxins preventing the movement of his arm allows the coldness to move faster though out his whole right side. Un able to draw any of the daggers that were placed on his right side, the prek quickly starts to search the ground around him for something to throw, a dagger, a rock.. Anything. Yet only he finds a skull of some being who had by the looks of it became a meal for another. Waisting no time the prek takes a tight grip with his weaker of the two normal hands and throws, aiming to hit any part of the human.
Jerralith sees the incoming skull, weakly tossed as it is, arcing toward him en route to his head. Recalling the sight of the gem encrusted shield lying behind him, the spell blade turns around as quickly as possible - which isn't very - and reaches for it, only to be too late! The skull makes a crude, yet sound connection with his own head, emitting a 'clunk' that ends up with Jerralith falling face first into the ground; a weak groan leaves his lips before his stomach suddenly heaves, and he loses his lunch from the poison nagging his system...right on top of the license, no less. Hopefully it wasn't a valuable license or for anything overly useful, as it is now soggy and ruined.
Keter descends into the arena, making the long trek along the steep stone stairway to take a place between the embattled opponents. "Thank you all for coming this evening, we've had another spirited duel in the arena tonight. We saw blood, we saw savvy, we saw courage... and most of all, we saw Jerralith defeat the preklek Vaako for the 10,000 gold purse, to remain champion of the Underdark Fighting Challenge." turning to Jerralith, he drops a large familiar sack before the man, the bulging bag hitting the ground with a thud as a few coins spill out onto the ground, "Congratulations Jerralith"
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