Duel:Kang v Larewen, Match 2 of the 2015 Frostmaw Tournament
Duelists: Kang vs. Larewen. Duel: Traditional 3 posts each, with final defense. 15 minute posting limit. Stakes: Autohit post. Advancement in the Titans of Winter Tournament 2015. Judges: Hildegarde & Leone
The Sky Pier
Hildegarde announced, "Welcome to the second match of annual Titans of Winter tournament! Here we gather in the proud and noble city of the avian lords and ladies; to watch two noble warriors do battle upon the pier of Schezerade. A beautiful pier of solid marble, yet with such harsh cold and dreadful rain it is no easy place to fight on. The winds grow violent in this sky-dwelling city. There are no barriers here to prevent you from falling from your doom. Yet worse still lurks in these dark clouds, rumour abounds of a dragon flying nearby and we all know of their voracious appetites! Fight for glory, fight to stay on the pier and for the love of Aramoth, don’t draw the attention of the beast to yourself. Best of luck to our warriors: Larewen and Kang!"
Larewen stood upon the pier, unbothered by the cold or the rain; of the elements present it was only the wind that would get in her way (and the dragon, if it were to be drawn to her). Her skirts whipped around her legs, clinging to her body and her hat? It was blown from her head, leaving bistre curls to become drenched. They slapped against her face, occasionally drawing the faintest of winces from her sylvan features when they crossed her eyes. A wicked grin curled the woman's lips upward as her stare fell level upon the preklek that had been chosen as her opponent for this eve's duel. No greeting was offered; no sense of acknowledgment was present save for that cold, calculating stare. Then, the elf began to cast. Gloved fingers reached outward as her hand lifted, palm heavenward. She was drawing upon the darkness, both within her and cast by the shadows of the clouds overhead, molding it, twisting it, and condensing it until it became as tangible as a spear within her grasp. A moment later, it was cast forward, cutting through the wind easily enough as it sought not a weak spot in the other's armor, but rather to pierce it - or, at the very least, guage its strength.
Kang pats the odd unicorn that deigns to keep him company on the endless trek across the lands. He doesn't know why she accompanies him, but he knows she stands a good chance of sustaining grave injury should she remain on the field of battle. He turns to lock eyes with the vampire sorceress, Larewen. Her menacing aura would paralyze a lesser foe, particularly one who is completely locked out from that ethereal mystery that is magic, as Kang is. Without magic, without access to the advanced tech, without the support of his kind. Preklek have buckled and quivered under these circumstances, but not Kang. Not ever. He slides his green palm along the ivory shaft of his odd staff, tapping a cadence at an accelerated pace that no other could copy. The staff melts upward along his muscled arm and down the other, extending outward from both hands to form dual sabers. Without conscious command the left blade whips the spear out of the air. Such is the dogmatic loyalty of the creature that normally takes the form of a staff. Every breath it takes, it takes for Kang. The preklek whips back his hood revealing a bald head and cold calculating eyes. He taps one more quick command on the weaponized doppelganger before lunging forward, recklessly charging straight at the woman with both blades ready, arms outspread. When he gets within range, much sooner than expected, he swings both inward in a pincer movement, but they retract. Instead the blade arcs downward from over Kang's head, like a gigantic scorpion tail.
Larewen 's style of battle was one that thrived on distance. Particularly of the sort that put many, many feet between herself and her foe, and thus she was not trained in melee combat. Her jaw tensed as her magic bolt was knocked to the side, a single breath heralding its disappearance as the shadows spread out once more and returned to their master. In that brief moment, Kang was upon her and the elf found herself on the defensive. Again, arcane notes bereaved themselves of her lips and her arms were held up above her, between the poised blades and the crown of her head. The air before them crackled to life and thickened, as if it were an inward draw of breath and her defense came in the form of her attack: a sudden thrust of air outward between the two, intent on once more forcing distance between preklek and elf - or maybe, if she were more fortunate, knocking him from the windy pier.
Kang flips upward over the blade that had slammed past the vampire and anchored him on the bridge despite the windy slick conditions. He taps a hasty retraction and lands on the back of the unicorn that hadn't left, her unfounded loyalty outweighing the danger to her hide. Another tap turns the shifting weapon into a lance and the reptilian warrior becomes an image that illustrates exactly what he is: a dark knight, what the commoners cal a death knight. The mare rears in perfect unison with a flash of lightning, casting a terrifying silhouette before galloping after the fleeing vampire. The thunder of hooves combined with actual thunder creates a dark melody that plays a foreboding counterpoint to the events of this evening. A mounted preklek and a foul spell-weaver fighting for dominance on a precarious pathway amidst winds howling like a pack of ravenous wolves. Kang stabs forward, and his mount does likewise.
Larewen hadn't expected that her spell would altogether fail its purpose, and though that left her with more than a passing concern and undoubtedly a slew of unsavory words, her first action was to not be caught by the blades as they became an anchor for the preklek. She would dip downward to duck out from underneath and then watch as the deathknight flipped upward into the air and onto his horned steed. Having failed to knock Kang back, she discovered quickly that she was far too close to the mounted knight and as he lunged forward, with blades in hand and the horned head of the unicorn dipped forward, it certainly appeared that the elf woud have nowhere to go. Her lips, drawn upward into a sneer, moved for the third time as the darkness again coelesced around her. It writhed and twisted as it stretched away from her, seeking to coil around the legs of the steed like inky tendrils. If successful, they would seek to pull the unicorn out right from underneath the death knight, and thus hopefully divert the blades.
Kang watches as if in slow motion as the stygian mare stumbles and trips, launching him headlong over the edge. Since Kang is a brave, manly preklek, he does -NOT- wet himself. No, he simply screams like a little girl. Larewen's last view of the preklek will be his backside disappearing over the edge. Fortunately for the daring knight, the sound he just uttered is the verbal trigger for Emergency Defense Protocol Eight. The blades go limp and lash out to grasp at something to halt his fall. Unfortunately, the closest thing happens to be the dragon he'd been trying to avoid. His fingers tap furiously on his constantly shifting tool, sending more and more tendrils out. Somehow he manages to coerce the device into a bridle and bit. The dragon is not amused. Kang presses on the right places, and kicks when needed. This isn't his first rodeo. The dragon jerks away from the well-placed kicks and bucks in the exactly the direction Kang wishes. The dragon crashes sideways across the walkway with a yee-hawing preklek on top, knocking everyone off the side. Hopefully the unicorn escaped in time. Larewen, however. . .
Kang leaps off the back of the dragon along with his shifting mass that once again takes the form of an ivory staff. He watches the dragon continue it's roll over the other side, taking Larewen with it. The mare nimbly dances around the gigantic beast and stretches out it's horn for the vampire to grab, thereby dragging her back from the brink. The preklek nods. No harm, no fowl. He marches off, for once using the staff like a staff: just for balance. If the unicorn wants to rejoin him, she will. He's not her owner, merely a companion on the road. At any rate, he's long gone before Larewen has time to fully recover, even helped along by the ambient energies of the unicorn.
Larewen was, undoubtedly, grateful in some way for the unicorn's unusual moment of mercy. Personally? She'd have let the preklek fall. Nonetheless, the sorceress grasped its horn and when she was once more in safety, she'd allow the creature to take its leave.