Duel:Karasu v Mathollak, Round 2, 2020 Hero of Freedom Championship
Duelists: Karasu vs Mathollak Duel: Traditional 3 rounds with final defense, 15 minute posting limit. Stakes: Auto-hit to the winner. Judges: Mahri, Meri, and Odhranos
Larket Arena
The arena, like the rest of the city of Larket under Jacklin and Parsithius' rule, has grown in size and splendor. The circular building's walls rise even higher now, to make room for the orderly rows of steps that ascend all the way up to the open top of the arena. Gladiatorial games still seem very popular among the citizens of Larket, for the building is rarely, if ever, empty. The floor is stone, covered with sand, that is replaced regularly to rid the area of the blood-soaked clumps that mark where a fighter has died. The gladiators seem to come in from doors that lead down, into barracks, while spectators file in from both north and south, moving along huge walkways that exit into the stands. The banner of Larket hangs over the arena, where the glory of the city is displayed daily.
Introduction Round
Mathollak waits in the stands with a small crowd of bards under his employ, and his imp familiar. He assumes its the same one, because every time it returns to him it's sniveling as if it has come to expect its fate. It could be that when one returns (after dying horribly) to Delisha's domain it simply spreads the word, and its always a different, reluctant imp. Why would he ask? He's relaxing with his feet kicked up on the stands, haunch of meat in one hand, wine glass in the other. When it was finally time, he placed a heavy clawed hand on the wrought iron railing that separated him from the arena and depressed it with a slight motion. Then he stepped over the ruined safeguard and hopped into the sandy arena. He slams his axe head-first into the sand leaving the handle jutting outward, and throws his hands up over his head. "For Delisha! For Freedom! For LARKET!!" Then he bounces from one foot to the other waiting for the arena to morph.
Karasu strides into the arena, thankfully bereft of delicious icy drinks to, as the kids say, yeet today. At least, it would appear so, given that her hands and torso are completely obscured by an oversized black coat uncharactersitic of the hot summer evening. There is the faintest smell of ozone around her form, and the muffled sound of clicking from the sheath of her long sword matches in time with the click of her heeled armored boots. Beneath a set of Officially Licensed Crimson Mantis Battle Sunglasses™, rhodolite eyes scan the crown to see who all is in attendance. Her eyes light up at the sight of Quintessa, seated next to what appears to be a very agitated elf. She raises two fingers to her head in a salute to the Countess and removes the glasses, tossing them up into the air for her to catch. Somewhere else, she spots a familiar half-orc. The halfling herself gives a half smile at the familiar face. Turning her attention back to the arena, she rolls her neck and shoulders to await the gong.
Environmental Challenge
Orikahn :: The arena field turns slick and white, and the duelists find themselves standing on a flat, featureless disk. It feels a little bit like standing on a giant perfectly clean dinner plate. The ground gives a lurch, and the plate begins to rotate, slowly at first. To compound the duelist's worries, this disk seems to have some concerning electrical properties. At the very edge of it, there's a sudden noisy crack, a flash, and a hiss of dissipating energy. Another pop, a flash, and a crackle as arcs of static sizzle around the edge. The disk gradually picks up speed. As the precarious plate spins faster, the centripetal force exerted upon the duelists will increase. Furthermore, the static sparks at the edge of the plate will grow stronger and arc farther inward. It's a race against time! Keep your footing, combatants, or you could find yourself a victim of rather shocking circumstances!
Duel
Mathollak yanks his axe out of the ground as the arena's transformation begins to take shape, and wobbles a little when the ground below him starts spinning. He finds his bearings however, and starts sprinting toward the center of the dinner-plate, his hulking form hunched to give him a lower center of gravity. For a juggernaut wearing full plate, he's surprisingly bouncy on his feet! It always feels that way when Delisha's carrying some of his burdens. He gets near the center by embracing the centripetal force, then suddenly lifts his battleaxe over his head, charges it with energy, and pulls his arms down, letting the axe fly out of them at the top of the arc. It spins toward...nothing? But the spinning disk means that Karasu will be brought directly into its path. If it connects, not only will it hurt, but a black shadowy fire will engulf her and sap her of energy and vitality.
Karasu braces herself with her knees apart as the arena begins to move. "Fulgur." Keeping her eyes on the Delishan Deathknight, she matches his movments, allowing the force of the spinning plates to pull her towards the center of the arena, albeit slower than his own descent due to her lighter weight. When Mathollak lifts the axe over his head, she plants her feet back on the ground just yards away. "Gravis." She shouts, the spell increasing her weight to keep from being pulled into range of the swing. The sheath of her sword ripples with sparks of her own static. Sagaribana is drawn from its sheath, the blade of which glows with imbued electricity of its own. A sudden increase from the disc causes her to lose her balance just enough to rapidly pull her into the arc of the axe. The feline leans backwards to meet her rival and springboards off the eye of the axe to jump over him. Karasu swings her whip sword out at the man's head. Should he dodge, the blade will begin to elongate out as if following him with the pull of the spinning force, from which lightning then shoots out in an arching bolt.
Mathollak watches his axe get lodged into the ground only a few feet away from him after Karasu pounced off of it with amazing dexterity. Quick as a cat! Now Mathollak's unarmed...except for his arms, and the various other spiky parts of his armor. She goes over his head and he tracks her, ducking out of the way of the initial sword swipe. Thinking he's safe, he takes one step out of the center and holds his claw up ready to strike and catch her when she lands, while the spinning plate does most of the work for him gathering momentum. He makes one tight revolution around and then leaps off the plate, intending to eviscerate her with his claws. Unfortunately, the sword and the lightning connect with him, and he goes stiff. His motionless body spins like a heavy spiked frisbee in midair, and if she can't avoid it, the sheer force might push her all the way to the edge where static is building up more and more.
Karasu feels herself being pulled in midair when the force of her jump, even powered by the gravitational spell, runs out of steam. The sword finishes its attack, and the spellblade feels herself being drawn immediately into the center again where Mathollak's weaponized armor spins in wait. Karasu contorts her small frame to try to avoid him, or even use the sword to push back against him or spring off of him again, but the sword whip still needs time to retract! The half-feline's own mithril armor bounces off of the death knight, sending her back out towards the charged edge of the disk. The second her whip-sword is retracted into its sword shape, she digs the blade into the ground to slow her pull to a stop. Not quick enough, though, as her outward facing feet connect with the static. Karasu seizes as the shock, though surpressed by a leather armor worn beneath the mithril, momentarily stuns her. As she is drawn into the center again, she stutters through the shockwaves. "Ad-d-d-dolbetique." Her wrist flicks outwards as the sword begins to glow a bright red, making a burning hot lance to peirce through either armor or his weapon itself.
Mathollak rises to his feet and shakes off the shock. "Good evening my love," he mutters adoringly to his dark goddess, "Would you lend a hand?" The force of the arena pulls him to the middle, while his axe is swallowed up by the electric current at the battlefield's edge. But the dark mother obliges! Shadowy, tendrilous fingers snake out of the ground like whisps of smoke and lift his axe from the ground. As he meets Karasu in the middle, he has almost no choice but to be impaled. He fights it! Of course he fights it, both hands are scalded on the blade as it presses toward his belly. Behind the two combatants spinning in the center, hellish fingers hurl the static shocked axe through the air toward Mathollak. He takes one hand off the blade, and puts it on Karasu's shoulder as he leans in close, hoping to obscure her vision. Of course, the burning blade sinks into his armor. He can only hope it doesn't skewer anything he needs, and then he drops, falling flat on his back, a jiffy before the battleaxe flies over him. Charged with electricity and the Dark Goddesses luck.
Karasu lurches forward as her sword makes contact, nearly impaling herself as well on the hilt of her weapon with the force of the quick stop. With a grunt, her feet hit the ground and she moves to pull back again. A hand on her shoulder stops her, though, and she crouches down to get away from the knight. "Hands off the merch!" She shouts just before he falls backwards. Look at that, their first words. Her eyes snap up just in time to see the axe coming down on her. Karasu is fast, but not quite that fast! Karasu screams out with pain as the blade cracks through the metal armor. The lightning surges through her, and she forces herself to fall backwards and to the ground to dislodge it. "Obscena stipitem egerunt!" The blades of her sword detach and hover in the air in a wide arc around Mathollak, spinning in the opposite direction of the disc's rotation to appear as if it were one long chain of blades. "Mi-mienai." She grunts, trying to force herself to stand. Her ebon furred coat lights up with blue runic markings that turn the same shade of red as her eyes. The darkness falls away in thick wisps of smoke to reveal her runic jaguar pelt. It's beauty despite its unethical aquisition can only be appreciated by the audience for a hair of a moment before the feline simply disappears. Staggered clicking of her armored heeled boots can still be heard as she fights the convulsions of the electricity still coursing through her, and droplets of blood against the pure white hint to Mathollak as to her general position, though, as she rears the whip her sword back to lasso the handle of his axe with the bare chain. "Paenitet!" The blades suddenly stop and face towards the Death Knight, honing in on him in rapid succession.
Mathollak rolls over to his stomach and comes to a knee, his instinct is to slap a hand to his abdomen to stop the bleeding, but he finds it to be cauterized already. Even better! But he doesn't intend to let her get away, and he snaps a hand to the handle of his axe, helping her to remove it. Finally he gets to wield his axe again. Just kidding! It's snatched away by her whip! He's devestated. How can he deal with these incoming blades? By himself? Without a weapon? He can't. He remains kneeled, seeming resigned to his fate. But he's praying now. "I know I ask you for a lot babe, and I know I said last time would be the last time...but I need your love and I need it bad! Hold me?" The air around them seems to sigh in exasperation, but Delisha actually likes his begging. As the blades sling toward him, the ground smolders in five little burning pools of lava. The smell of sulfur and black smoke heralds the eruption of five stony fingers, that curl lovingly around Mathollak's kneeling form. They arise in time to block many of the deadly blades, but one clangs off his helmet, and another sticks out of his shiny metal glute.
Winner: Mathollak
Auto-hit Stakes
Mathollak feels the stinger stuck in the...top of his leg and decides to leave it there for now. He can't see Karasu, but he knows she must be nearby, the circle is shrinking evermore. With a massive effort, he breaks one of his newly formed stalagmites, the one that would be Delisha's middle finger. He spins the opposite way of the arena and feels a heavy thud against his improvised stone club. His hand finds his invisible foe and he's able to press his forearm against her neck while holding up Delisha's finger menacingly. She's defenseless, the match is over. He makes sure there are no sneaky moves for one more second then struggles to his feet, and yanks the blade out of his butt. "For Delisha!!!"