Duel:Kang v Kasyr

From HollowWiki
Location: Frostmaw Fort Main Room
Duelists: Kang (Team Balgruuf) vs Kasyr (Team Hildegarde)
Judges:: Jesen, Josleen, Gilwen, Shishi, and Raiez
Stakes: If Kasyr wins, he succeeds in killing one of Balgruuf's generals, sending the army into disarray without direction. If Kang wins, Balgruuf's general believes that the battle is lost, and to spite the victors razes 80% of the fort, save the enchanted throne room and war council chamber. 

Frostmaw Fort Main Room

The entrance room of the fort is massive in size, with flooring of stone and walls of gargantuan logs linked together snugly. Upon the wooden walls lay various trophies obtained by the generations of Jarls to have ruled over Frostmaw. A wide variety of creatures' heads are mounted, from dragons to mammoths, even giants and a few humans, in clear display of Frostmaw's victories big and small. Among these trophies rests a tapestry of masterful craftsmanship that draws the eye of most visitors. The woven image depicts a small, vulpine figure atop of the Gray Dragon, Ishataulak, a blade poised to thrust into the dragon's eye. Around the dragon and in support of the sword-bearing figure stands a skeleton knight and a black-clad swordsman. The tapestry conveys a sense of danger and death weaved within the image, caught paused just before the final strike, showing the destruction of the murderous Grey, and imparting the despair Ishataulak felt moments before death was driven home by the Queen of Frostmaw.


Kang calmly edges his way past his larger cohorts. A few of the frost giants take umbrage at being shoved out of the way by the smaller warrior, but when they see the helmed preklek they let it go. Kang had more than once proven his worth to them all. Several had cracked ribs and bruises to prove it. Besides, Balgruuf had forbidden them to harm the mercenary. They don't know the deal the lizardman had struck with their leader, but they were loathe to break it. As they watch the lean, muscled preklek stalk to the front of their line they examine him for weakness. Various charms tinkle at the ankle of the otherwise silent preklek. The silence is quite a feat considering his natural agility and the weight of the armour. His armour shows thorough wear from many battles, brawls, and attempted maimings. The sleeves bear various marks from conditions that would balk the strongest warriors. Scorch, acid-burns, and even indentations from sharp fangs mar the mithril trappings of the Krekai Dedicate. The black sabre at his side looks brand new by comparison. His brown eyes scan the area outside the gates of the fort. He awaits the enemy with avarice. One breath, two. Without relaxing his grip on the strange white staff he carries, he begins the exercises learnt by necessity to force his body to do what battle requires. In a world of magic, natural speed is not enough.


Kasyr 's form soars through the air, borne on a combination of the great leathery wings which protruded from his back, and empowered by the electrical energies he so deftly wielded- his approach only discernible as a streak of dancing light across the sky. Driven by a combination of brutal Machiavellian purpose, and a burning need to make amends for his own perceived failure at the ambush, he hurtled towards Fort Frostmaw, with every intention of violently murdering whatever chain of command was present, as well as every single poor soul in his way. Hildegarde would perhaps disapprove of the swordsman's intended assassination/gratuitous murder spree, but Kasyr's patience for noblesse oblige or diplomacy has long since vanished. Proximity to the fort comes soon enough for the Kensai, and it's about that point his form promptly dips out of the air, hurting towards the ground like some errant bolt of lightning- a burst of steaming stone, dirt and miscellaneous shrapnel kicking up into the air as Kasyr slams into the ground in a crouch, the kinetic force redistributed through a peculiar combination of unnatural durability, and last moment buffers provided by the same electrical energy that had allowed his violent entrance. Unlike Kang, Kasyr would appear relatively unarmoured, given that beyond his clothes, he only seemed to be sporting his trench coat, and that ever billowing scarf. That said, a wicked trio of katanas rest sheathed at the swordsman's hips, and his right hand is already shifting towards it, “Move. Or don't. It's fine, either way.”


Kang takes the man at his word and moves. Very quickly. In the space of a moment, the preklek goes from standstill to supersonic speeds, bowling over two unprepared frost giants. The others had braced themselves. The frost giant contingent links arms to serve the dual-purpose of anchoring themselves against the onslaught beginning in front of them and preventing the intruder from passing. Kang taps out a tune on the edge of his staff, but considering the speed he's moving none of his allies can discern it. The preklek stops directly beside the Kensai and waits for the sonicboom to hit before saying, "There. I moved." Without waiting for a reply he swings his staff, which had reacted to the tactile command as it always does, and shifted into an urumi. Once again, Kang increases his speed, focusing his breathing and heartbeat to force adrenalin into his veins. His steps become a dance swinging the segmented blade in front of him in a movement that is both attack and defense, an imperative. If the pawn doesn't move, a more important piece may be lost.


Kasyr , for just a moment, looks absolutely startled by his opponent, surprise painted across his face, his body futilely trying to shift back from the incoming blur- and all but standing still in time when compared to the preklek's speed. The wall of force that slams into him a moment later courtesy of the sonic boom is disorienting, and more than enough to rob Kasyr of his capacity to hear Kang's retort, but the Kensai is not wholly defenseless, if the brief flicker of white-blue energy arcing across his form is any indication. All at once, Kasyr's form is overtaken by a wreath of electrical energy- the Kensai attuning himself to the raw elemental energies he's so adept at wielding, pushing his already unnatural sense of perception and reflexes to a new height. Kasyr's motions mirror the blur that Kangs has become, turning what would have been a blinding whirlwind of death into a more manageable set of motions- one the Kensai actively chooses to lunge in towards, so that he can slam his left palm towards the oncoming lash of steel. The impact is jarring, metal colliding into both the mithril mesh of his glove and preklek plating contained within the humble confines of his coat- mangling the flesh beneath the glove. Fingers break, his palm fractures- but the unnatural force behind his own strike, and the 'push' provided by the electricity coursing through him in tandem with his pre-emptive parry prevents the weapon from passing clean through. It's at this point the electrical energy coursing through Kasyr intensifies- flaring in his palm to send electricity arcing through Kang's weapon, in an effort to push his weapon back and set him off balance, and simultaneously send a muscle wracking surge of energy coursing through his weapon and into his body. Hopefully with enough force that when the Kasyr finishes his forward dash, and slams his right hand forward towards the preklek's chest, his foe might find himself at a disadvantage at evading the blow, and therefore find himself at the mercy of the secondary burst of electrical energy that would flare forward- this one meant less to damage the preklek, and more to imbue his armour with the same energy that the Kensai was so fond of wielding. Either way, Kasyr's left with the after effects, as bits of his left hand begins to flake away into ashes.


Kang continues moving more out of muscle memory and inertia than active will, but electrical shock hurts like few things. He releases the staff, and without further commands, it solidifies back into wood. The preklek slows minutely as he struggles to regain control of his breathing, but he never once stops the dance. In one smooth movement, he draws the sabre from his hip and begins singing one of his favorite wartime ditties, to get his timing back. The words are well-known to his compatriots, and perhaps to the Kensai, but the language the preklek uses is not one of Lithrydel or even of this universe. Kang sings in the langauge of battle, the language of pain, the language that demands blood, and without exception, gets it. Kang belts out the joyous tune in Chtonic, harsh syllables reverberate across the walls echoing the dissonant chords across the frost giant army. Those not at the forefront cover their ears in pain, the wall directly next to the combatants don't have the luxury. Such is their misfortune. Kang licks a driblet of blood from his lip at a mispoken vowel that tears from his throat. He gets off lightly. Blood seeps from frost giant eyes and ears as Kang's voice grows steadier and his movements quicker. Their eyes cloud over as rigor mortis sets in, and Kang lunges forward at near sonic speeds to remove the remainder of the injured hand.


Kasyr 's right hand hurts, as some part of himself intuitively recognizes that punching the armour wass fundamentally as fun as punching a wall. Tactically, however, he can't help but feel a bit of nuanced pride for the gift he'd essentially left the preklek with. Even as his hand recoils from the force, he's already in the process of sliding his feet back, forcing his arm down towards his sheathes so that he can take ho- “Fu-” Kasyr might not know the language Kang speaks on, but some innate form of intuition (perhaps borne of his own knowledge of infernal tongues), grants him an awareness of it's wrongness. That, in tandem with the fact that it was obliterating his ear drums, pooling blood in his eyes and grinding him from the inside out, prompts the Kensai into redirecting the voracious appetites of the energy he's channeling towards his ears drums- effectively ionizing portions both inside and out and therefore destroying his capacity to hear. Freed from the effects of the devastating dirge, and bequeathed of the secondary burst of electricity- the Kensai stands ready for Kang's charge, forcing his right hand on the sheathe of his Katana as the Preklek races forward. Which is about the point the Kensai's trump card kicks into play- as Kasyr takes hold of the electrical energy he'd laced into Kang's armour when the lizardman had failed to avoid the secondary palm strike, and then pushes against it to effectively slow his opponents oncoming charge. Slowed momentum and a relatively small target area leaves the Kensai free to swiftly sidestep Kang's advance, at about which point Kasyr draws forth his weapon in a blur of motion that ends with an abrupt thrust poised to drive the weapon up into the Preklek's armpit, in the hopes the armour was thinner there. Hit or miss, the Kensai continues to pivot in place, taking advantage of his sidestep and Kang's momentum to effectively pivot his way behind the preklek, so that he can thrust his blade towards the Preklek's hopefully exposed back. Sure, Kasyr's sword is mundane, but the surplus of electrical energy gained from the 'sacrifice' of his ears mean's he's able to channel a ruinous amount of kinetic force into the attack – likely at the cost of destroying both blade and impacted body armour.


Kang continues his chanting, saying whatever comes into his head. His steps move with the words, keeping time, and focusing on controlling his parasympathetics. Pain blossoms in his extremities as he overstrains the muscles. Harder and harder he pushes, fighting the armor as it tries to slow him. The trickle from his lips grows as his tongue fights against the harsh language. The dedicate inhales and holds it, denying the pain receptors from firing. He begins shouting a long string of numbers in common, not that anyone is there to hear. The frost giants are either plugging their ears or dead, and his Kensai foe shows no reaction to the data. The wooden staff that had attached itself to Kasyr begins to wag like a puppy's tail and shifts once more, obeying the verbal protocols. It sends out tendrils, anchoring itself to yank the Kensai back, but not enough to stop the blow. Kang topples end over end, trying to roll with the force. The velocity at which this combat takes place, sends the armor scattering. The preklek rises to his feet, stark naked, and grinning malevolently. He was fast before, but now, he's not carrying the weight of his armor. He runs around Kasyr, careful to stay just out of range, shouting commands to the shifting staff to anchor itself more solidly. Sonicboom after sonicboom pound toward Kasyr, and the weapon that is trying to tie him down.


Kasyr s' battle litany is a stream of pain filled hisses and odium filled curses- which only grow more profuse and creative as his advantages explode into so much metallic debris. Between his sword blowing apart from impact, the loss of the tactical advantage provided to him by his foes armour, unexpected lizard man full frontals, a gradual loss of vision courtesy of still bleeding eyes progressively smearing, and now a likely sentient weapon raining on his parade and snaring him in place- It can be safe to say that the Kensai's intended 'Mass-Murder-Parade' has been well and truly rained on. Oh, and he's deaf again. That's - “Hurk.” the sound of all the wind in the Kensai's chest getting punched out of his lungs courtesy of a sonic boom. Blood seeps into the swordsman's lungs in tandem with the deadly reminder that he both needs to breath again, and is currently unable to. Leashed, gasping, and left at the mercy of Kang's onslaught- the Kensai finds his mind shifting from volatile frustration to outright desperation and grim determination. His will manifests itself as not just a plea, but a prayer to his patron, Daedria. Just as he was her sword, she was his shield. Holy energy blazes into existence about his form- solidifying around his body to protect against the consecutive bursts of kinetic and sonic force vibrating through the air. Still, Kasyr blazes even brighter- a ripple of electrical energy pushing through his body as he not only ionizes the sections of his back that the stave had anchored into raw electrical energy, but also his wings. Flesh tributed, so as to provide the Kensai both escape from Kang's trap- and the the burst of energy needed so he can flicker across the arena in a blur of motion literally lightning quick. Meant to intercept the Preklek mid dash- the Kensai thrusts the broken end of his Katana towards the center of the lizard men's chest, in an effort to either collapse in Kang's rib cage, or wreak ruin upon his internal organs. Hit or miss, however, that unforunately leaves the Kensai effectively throwing himself against a solid wall of sonic force- and whilst his divine barrier might protect him from outright bursting apart, it doesn't prevent him from being flung across the fort grounds and into a wall a bleeding, half-blind mess.


Kang is very fast, but not lightning fast. There's only so much biofeedback can accomplish. He sees the light growing and swears quietly, causing the injury in his mouth to widen. Kasyr's blade finds him unarmored but not unprepared. The preklek shifts just enough that the blade slices across his pelvis rather than anywhere immediately fatal. Kang uses the last of his fading adrenalin to stumble bleeding away from immediate combat and into the chill forms of the dead frost giant wall. He finds what he wants in the stachel: a biscuit. With a grunt, he throws it at the Kensai, but it never makes it even half way. The shifting staff leaps through the air and swallows the treat, landing with a thud next to it's injured owner. Kang taps it three times and it melts over the wounds before hardening. It would hold until they found a healer, or the tinkers. This isn't Kang's first injury, or his worst.


Kasyr Wins


Kasyr , ever since he hit the wall, has felt his consciousness slip and ebb – the mortal limitations of a body mostly bereft of the dark gifts it once thrived on now pushed to it's limits. Each second seems to span ages, the Kensai's blood smeared and bleary gaze flicking in and out of focus- flitting between the casual destruction of the courtyard, the corpses of the giants who had meandered too close to the fight, and finally resting over the form of the lizard man. He couldn't fail here- however. He couldn't allow himself to die, or to fail when so much rested on his shoulders. And so, the kensai taps into his communion with the divine one last time- pulling upon that hallowed link to restore himself for the last stretch ahead of himself. Torn flesh, and ripped muscle mends itself- painfully knitting together if only so the Kensai can force himself to stand up. It's a patch job, in truth- but between it, the kensai's strength, and outright stubborn perseverance- it's enough to get him across the courtyard to Kang. Arm's reach is about all it takes, really- one of his two spare katana's drawn out from it's sheathe, if only so the Kensai can promptly skewer the Preklek over and over until consciousness left it. It's only when Kang crumples that the Kensai steps away from the body- leaving behind that particular blade in the Preklek's fallen form. Which, left the Kensai with one more Katana, a burning spark of anger in his heart, and a whole lot of murder on his agenda.