Duel:Kasyr v Mihael, Match 3 of the Frostmaw Tournament

Duelists: Kasyr vs. Mihael.
Duel: Traditional 3 posts each, with final defense. 10 minute posting limit.
Stakes: Autohit post. 5k to the winner. Advancement in the Titans of Winter Tournament 2012.
Judges: Satoshi, Kuzial (mid), Hanwi

Frostmaw Colosseum

Kuzial stalks silently into the hidden Colosseum. To those who look in his direction, the patron of House Stavret gives a smirk full of contempt, until finally he finds himself a seat. His hands never leave the hilts of his fine weapons as he sits down and prepares to watch the coming fight.

Gorzhageigk is here, but his writer is too damned lazy to write him through any actions. Thusly. He just... Sits here. Probably eating something. Or someone.

Gorzhageigk said, "Omnomnom."

Kirien arrives in true Kirienesque fashion, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Having jumped out of a solid wall of rock, he stands at the very top of the stands for a few moments as though to survey the colosseum in its entirety, before he casually hops down in the direction of the private booth and its seven curious chairs. He bounces over Kuzial on the way, and might have flashed the drow the ghost of a grin over his shoulder.

Kirien is subtle.

Kuzial offers Kirien nothing but a dark scowl.

Kirien 's toying with a pebble as he slips into the booth and looks as if he's resisting the urge to throw it at someone's head.

Kasyr s' entrance is preceded by the discarded remains of a cigarette hitting the ground, something the Kensai casually snuffs out with his foot as he strides into the Arena. With a careful glance offered to his surroundings, the Revenant shrugs before simply proceeding to march over to the section of the Colosseum that the private booth looms over.

Kuzial watches Tiphareth materialize from a sphere of scintillating un-light that appears beside a seat strangely free of other spectators. Be this providence, preparation or perhaps psychic precision, it is none the less fortunate - who would want to sit next to a lich of such appalling power, after all? Kuzial snarls in silent anger at the appearance of Trist'Oth's mighty ruler, but otherwise makes no gesture towards the man. They were far from friends. His gaze remains in apparently watching the arena, though he is careful to ensure no one gets too close... - wrote it for Tiphareth, because he's convenient like that, and not at work.

Satoshi paces alongside her revenant husband, only to part from him once they reach the private booth. But not before the kit leans upward to whisper in Kasyr's ear and offer it a light tug by way of small affections.

Satoshi said to Kasyr, "Destroy 'im, love."

Kuzial seems to find the fleeting hug between Kensai and Ice Magus quite amusing, though why would be unclear to those who do not know him.

Kasyr whispered to Satoshi, "Count on it~"

Satoshi would kick Kuzial, but since he's sitting in the commoners' area, she can't be bothered to~.

Kasyr offers Satoshi a salute and a slight wiggle of ears in response.

Kirien rests folded arms atop the railing of the booth, leaning so as to peer down into the arena proper and offer the entering Kasyr an enthusiastic wave. There's a hint of something particularly gold in his eye, but maybe that's just a trick of the light. The empath glances in Kuzial's direction after that, and maybe the drow will feel his seat jerk beneath him once or twice, as though trying to buck him off. Kirien couldn't quite resist despite knowing he'll be scolded for it later.

Satoshi climbs up to take the frozen seat among the seven Coterie placements, Kirien given an unreadable look as she passes him. The Empath will feel not a flicker of any emotion from the kit other than a frigid hatred lurking just beneath the surface, albeit a loathing not aimed at her vulpine kin in the least.

Kuzial draws from a hidden sheathe a small knife and begins to casually clean his nails with it. He doesn't look at Kirien as he does this, and he ignores the bucking chair... but the silent message in his actions should be enough even for Kirien to pick up.

Mihael slowly enters the Colosseum, the sound of his staff hitting the ground with each step can be heard along with each step as he walks forward. His head turns while looking about, taking in the grand structure and the crowd, pressed between his lips is a pipe emitting a sweet cherry scent. Stopping for a moment to shift the massive boulder on his back, he proceeds forward to the center of the arena and sits down.

Dulcinea settles into the stands, finding a better vantage point from whence to watch her boss compete. After what had happened at the last round of fights, she felt prepared for pretty much anything. (Yeah, right.)

Kasyr s' response to Kiriens wave is an altogether frigid stare, before the Revenant simply turns on his heels and proceeds to lean up against the colosseum wall. Once situated there, he promptly begins to tug at the sleeves of his trenchcoat, as though it's suddenly begun to fit him poorly.

Kirien seems to become momentarily distracted from teasing Kuzial by Satoshi's silent arrival to the booth; the icy emotion surrounding his sister instils a certain sort of worry in the empath. He pauses, slants her a bemused sidelong glance, and after that turns his attention away from the brooding drow in the stands to focus on Satoshi and the two in the arena instead.

Kirien , completely out of the loop, gives Kasyr one of those confused looks as well.

Cyllth : One of the torches burns a light green color for a brief moment, before going back to its regular colors.

Dulcinea waits for the match to begin by practicing her people watching. Turning about in her seat, she tries to get a good gander at everyone present.

Satoshi, with Mihael's appearance, tightens her grip on the ice-encrusted bark of her Xalious staff before bringing it down with a resounding crack against the ground, the sound, as always, magically amplified to be heard by all present and ensnare their attention. Once she's successful, the magus announces simply, "The match between the hermit Mihael," she resists the urge to refer to him as Tortoise again, "and Frostmaw's own king-consort, Kasyr, will now begin!" As words end, the kit takes her seat with another mild look given to Kirien. Like the matches before, no magical wards have been put in place to protect the audience from collateral damage during the match, thus leaving them completely open to the elements as is only fitting for Frostmaw.

Dulcinea spots a familiar face as her eyes find Kirien. Smiling ever so slightly, the healer gives him a shy wave, wondering if he even remembered her.

Dulcinea finds her attention immediately caught by Satoshi's words, her gaze swinging back to the duelists as the fight begins. Time to cheer for the boss.

Tiphareth makes his way toward a vantage point suitable for maximum viewing pleasure of the ensuing carnage; an attempt is made to offer a nod toward the Queen if her glance lands in his direction, otherwise not going out of his way to make his presence known.

Satoshi does manage to catch sight of the Eldermage and returns his nod, along with the hints of a smile in welcome to his presence. As the Lichdrow's own fighting events had been the inspiration for this tournament, the kit takes a certain honor in him making an appearance.

Kirien 's ears ring from the impact of Satoshi's staff against the rock so nearby him, but he quickly becomes distracted in following the wave of vibration the motion cast out into the colosseum, and draws it back toward him like a net of garbled sound and mapped out landscape. He blinks, once, then sinks back into his seat - Satoshi earns herself another glance, Kirien's brow furrowing before he reaches to nudge a hand briefly against her own. It seems he missed Dulcinea's silent greeting during all this, but knowing him he'll likely take note of her presence soon enough.

Kasyr outstretches his right arm, as a mass of swirling shadows proceeds to pour out from the sleeve of his trenchcoat. Like living liquid, the sinister substance slithers around the Revenants arm, if only to abruptly condense into the form of pitch black gauntlet, one of the myriad guises of Kasyrs' infamous weapon 'Gospel'. It's only then that the Kensai promptly shoves off the arena wall, hurling himself into a frenzied run towards Mihael. As the distance between the two rapidly is devoured, the Revenants curls his body inwards- his right arm drawn in towards his chest so as to obscure it from Mihaels chest. From there, all it takes is a simple invocation of the element the Kensai so adeptly wields, a brief flicker of electrical energy the only warning Mihael gets as the Kensais abruptly propelled towards him in a literally-lightning quick dash. With his body already ducked low, the Revenant simply proceeds to hurl a stone shattering punch towards the lycans gut, before he abruptly lowers his body even more and proceeds to step off to the lycans left, a quick pair of jabs launched towards Mihaels kidneys. Sadly, Mihaels still somehow earned himself first blood in this encounter, if only because the invocation of the Revenants ability has coaxed a fist sized chunk of flesh and muscle to ionize along his left arm.

Satoshi, after a long moment spent staring at Kirien's hand, returns the nudge. With that nudge also comes the faint hints of the kit's underlying grief for the Empath to pick up, even as she passes him a look that plainly reads, "We'll talk later." For now, Satoshi's attention is for Kasyr and the match that's unfolding rather violently.

Kirien flinches. He's quite aware of what he just sensed with that brief contact, being particularly well-practiced when it comes to discerning the traces of more telling emotions lurking beneath something unpleasant - and, though he might not be able to see that look itself, he takes note of the meaning behind Satoshi's stare and nods. The scent of lightning fills his lungs and a heavy sense of worry is leaden in his chest as he watches the match's violent beginning.

Mihael rests with his head down, smoking out the wooden pipe pressed between his lips, the scent of the cherries rises into the air along with the smoke that seems to stop within a two foot radius of the man and refuses to disipate. His head tilts and perks up at the sound of Kasyr shoving himself off the arena wall, as well as the footsteps upon the ground. Knowing full well that with the boulder upon his back he would not be prepared for any attack, the old man reaches down with his right arm, the iron clad fingers close upon the wooden shaft of the pick axe handing at his hip. As he brings the improvised weapon up, the hermit cuts the bindings that hold the smooth stone with the mass of swirling black and gold smoke like substance below the surface. A loud thud is heard as the spiked boulder falls to the ground, whipping around, muscles tighten in his leg, the nerves reacting as quickly as possible, his legs pressing against the ground and a portion of the boulder to propel him backwards and away from the Revenant. Though it is futile to do so attempt to evade the man rushing at him, the lycan still has experience fighting against vampires and can judge their speed fairly well. His left hand rises to the steel at the tip of the shaft, to clash with the gauntlet that would have broken several rips, instead however the steel holds for a moment before shattering into hundreds of razor sharp shards which fly in every direction. The Kensai's fist proceeds to make its mark though, in which case the lycan flies through the air even faster before crashing into the ground and bouncing all the way to the other side of the arena. Rising slowly he coughs up blood, ignoring this fact, the man pulls the other axe from his left hip and readies himself. Dashing toward his opponent the swings with his left arm in a wide horizontal arc, with the right he brings a diagonal like verticle slash in an attempt to cut the vampire from his left leg to his right shoulder. As he does this though he lets out a heavy cloud of smoke toward Kasyr's face, hoping this would disrupt his vision and allow his weapons to taste his flesh.

Kasyr didn't waste the time garnered by Mihaels forceful bounce across the Colosseum, the Revenant using those stolen moments to slip up into a standing position, and sidle up against the large boulder that's been provided. Upon Mihaels approach, the Revenant is swift enough to react- his body lurching back in a sway to avoid the horizontal swing. With the ensuing cloud of smoke, it's no wonder that the Kensai hesitates in lurching forward once more- sparing himself the effects of the cloying smoke. Unforunately, with Kasyr extended as he is, he's unable to stop the second cut as swiftly as he'd like- suffering a nasty gouge up along his front leg, before he can promptly slam his gauntleted hand into the weapon with enough force to hopefully shatter the damnable thing, and knock Mihael off-balance. From there, the revenants left arm lashes forth to ensnare the Lycans right, if only so he can abruptly wrench him towards the boulder- every intention of smashing him off against the spiked surface and keeping him further offbalance. Insult to injury comes with Kasyr abruptly shifting all his weight onto his left leg and promptly trying to pull himself into a pivot- so as to effectively shred Mihael open against the impromptu obstacle.

Mihael lets out a small growl of displeasure as his first swing is evaded and hits nothing but air until Kasyr slams his hand against the weapon and shatters the entire thing from steel to wood. The objects creating shrapnel projectiles that burst forth as did the steel before. A few of the steel shards find their way between the slit that is where Mihael's right eye would be, however it is to no avail since he has no eye there. With the force of the weapon being forced to the ground and shattering in his hands, the man soon finds himself facing the ground. Using the momentum of his speed, along with the momentum the vampire has provided him with his strength, the ancient being ducks and rolls along the ground as his arm in ensnared. A loud pop can be heard as his arm is dislocated from its socket, letting out a muffled snarl, the hermit uses this to his advantage and twists his body so as to barely avoid the spiked boulder by a few centimeters. As he rises however, several voices can be heard echoing from within the black helmet that encases his head, though they are whispers it is clear that they range from the highest and lowest of tones. While he does this he hurls what remains of the pick axe in his right arm, what is now only half the steel, end over end at the King's right ankle, the scent of the vampires blood clinging to the metal while the remaining blood spreads across the axe. Once he has finished the short spell, the smoke swirls about like a tornado, the mass of silver clouds creating a vortex that sucks the wind toward's it as well as the oxygen out of the air. This would allow Kasyr a short window to move, otherwise he would be sucked into the vortex and have the oxygen sucked out of his lungs as well. Not quite satisfied just yet, the old man's crimson and black orb flashes a saphire hue in the very center of the swirling mass, as this happens, the lycan delivers a round house kick with his right leg that is powerful enough to shatter stone, it's mark is that of the ribs along his adversaries right side.

Kasyr hasn't let go of Mihaels arm. Despite the fact that the Kensais' left arm is protesting his antics, due to the gaping wound in it, and he's been likewise coaxed to balance his weight upon his right leg, because of the injury his left had received, he'd been -stubbornly- clinging to Mihael. It's only when Mihaels pickaxe bearing arm thrusts towards him that he finally shoves away from the Lycan, effectively pushing himself clear of the impromptu projectile-pickaxe. For a brief moment the Kensais' arms jerk out into a flail, before he abruptly comes to a stop, that unnatural sense of balance of his kicking in and preventing him from sprawling out. It's only about then that he becomes aware of the swirl of smoke, and the fact that the Lycan was still pressing the offensive. With not a moment spared, the revenant flings himself towards Mihael, his gaunteted right hand snapping forward to pre-emptively impact into the lycans right knee- so as to partially nullify the momentum the force of the kick (and potentially shatter the Ancients kneecap). Whatever the result, The revenants arm still proceeds to make a number of unpleasent crunching noises due to the force of the impact- though not so many as to prevent the Kensai from the simplest of responses. Even as that twister starts to pull him up into the air, Kasyrs fingers abruptly close, the unpleasently angular digits of the Gauntlet seeking to puncture through flesh and bone. Simply put, the Kensais simply intending on pulling Mihael up with him into that suffocating swirl of air, so that he can use the Lycan as a cushion when they inevitably fall.

Mihael narrows his only orb as the Kensai reaches out to shatter his right knee cap, he is left with no time to stop the kick, thus he prepares himself for the pain as his knee cap is shattered. The the pain tears through his leg and up to his spine, he does not allow himself to be distracted, knowing full well that his lower leg would still swing through the air and make contact with the man's ribs. Unfortunetly for Mihael, there is not enough force behind it to shatter the bone, though it would be enough to crack if not bruise his ribs. Feeling his arm tighten and the pressure upon his forearm from the vampire's grip, Mihael feels himself flying through the air and up into the sky toward the vortex he has created, his orb changes color and the saphire hue grows to form a more visible speck in his orb. Trying to decide between the choices he is left with, though he has but a few seconds, the armour in his arm crunches and begins to crack the bones. Letting out a growl in pain, the lycan makes the decision to lash out in a headbutt motion, his skull held low so that his forehead would crash upon the Revenant's face, though that is not his true goal, in fact his goal is to clamp his jaws upon his foe's shoulder and hope that it might force Kasyr to release his grip. Knowing that this might fail, the goes to his back up plan, the lycan's ebon claws burst forth from his black gauntlets with lightening speed, he once again prepares himself for what is to come. Twisting his body, and swinging his arm, the old man moves to cut off his own arm just above the Kensai's grip. In doing so, the old man cuts off his own arm and falls to the ground with a sickening crunch, bouncing as he does so and rolling toward the spiked boulder he came into the arena with. Pushing himself up with the stub of his arm, the lycan growls in pain, his right arm dislocated, his left arm a stub. His right leg is bent in the wrong angle and is bleeding heavily, while his left leg supports the ancient lycan. Coughing up blood again, the lycan is drenched in his own blood, as he holds the stub close to his body, his eye never leaving his target, his mind racing at the possibilities that the fight might bring, preparing for a counter attack should there be one.

Kasyr isn't quite sure how he got ahold of Mihaels arm, when his intent had been to grab the fellows leg. What he -is- certain, however, is that he's going to do everything within his power to avoid ending up an unpleasent impact with the ground. And so, when the lycans head lashes forward into a headbutt, the kensai simply dips his head down- favouring the ringing headache that ensues, over the unpleasentries that come from a broken nose. Thankfully, the created vacuum serves well enough to clear out the blood that spills out from the split flesh on his forehead- thereby preventing him from being blinded. With his head as close to Mihaels as it is, the Revenant simply keeps it pressed to the lycans to forcibly deny him his bite. On the other hand, it prevents him from seeing Mihaels severing shenanigans until they're well under way, and the Lycans wrenched loose of the Revenants grip. Hardly one to relish the idea of a solitary plummet, the Kensais' desire is quick enough to manifest- Gospels form abruptly shifting into the much more common guise of a broadsword. Hence armed, the Revenant simply proceeds to invoke those curious abilities of his, the wound upon his arm promptly expanding as more flesh is ionized. The plan is simple enough: Mere moments before impact, the Revenant calls upon that peculiar power he's refined, momentarily converting his form into electrical energy to at once cancel out gravitys pull upon himself. More than that, the maneuver will promptly allow him to redirect his direction of his choosing- or rather, at a target.

Winner: Kasyr

Kasyr is, briefly, but a black blur- illuminated by the vivid trail of electricity that arcs off the wake of his passage. That peculiar meld of shadow and lightning only cross Mihaels path for the briefest of moments, its' final destination just in front of the exit from the Colosseum. It's only then that the Kensai is fully perceivable by the naked eye once more; and only then that a thunderous crash echoes through the colosseum, as Mihael finally crumples to the floor from the immense force carried behind the strike Kasyr had landed on his ribs, a strike that had been slipped in during that brief lightning-quick lunge. Fortunately for the lycan, the Revenant had only used the flat of the broadsword, having entrusted the unnatural density of the weapon and speed it had been moving at to drop him to the ground.

Kuzial stands from his spot in the stands and snorts with contemptuous disdain. Just briefly does his euphonious voice ring out onto the battlefield and perhaps up to the area separating those of importance from the mere commoners. "Pathetic, Kasyr. You fight like a damn monkey." With those words hissed through starkly white teeth, the dark elf turns and stalks from the Colosseum, entirely confident he is safe from attack by the kensai standing close to its exit; protected for the duration of the tournament by the frozen kingdom's laws of hospitality... though, he wasn't going to wait around and test their bounds just yet.

Satoshi rises from her seat and approaches the front of the private box where she can lean one-armed against the stone edge to better peer down at her husband while he's bringing the match to an abrupt--and thunderous--close. No surprise is apparent on the foxkin's features, her confidence in the kensai's abilities unwavering and well confirmed. And so if he looks her way, he'll find Satoshi offering him a faint little smirk coupled with an unseen mental nudge through their bounds that hums with pride at his success. The lack of verbal congratulations is evident a second later as the Frost Giants in the audience begin cheering for their king's victory at the top of their behemoth lungs, a noise that shakes the colosseum to its foundations.

Mihael falls to the ground a crumpled unconcious mass of steel and flesh, his body limp as it lies there beside the boulder. A pool of blood forms about the man and grows due to his wounds, the man obviously needs medical attention. His severed arm lies beside him as well, though thanks to the terrain of the land, he does not need to put his arm in ice since it is already lying in it. A leather purse of five thousand gold falls beside his body and rolls away.

Kirien 's lungs are still full of the taste of lightning. He tilts his head some and presses his cheek into an arm, as he's back to leaning on the railing of the private booth, slumped forward and idly kicking his legs. There might have been a soft whistle of approval when the match comes to an end, though it's soon drowned out by the triumphant roars of Frostmaw's giants congratulating their king. Shifting his blind gaze away from Kasyr in the arena, the empath watches Kuzial leave and resists the urge to 'accidentally' trip him up with some of the flooring.

Satoshi, fighting to be heard over the cheering, directs present healers to see to Mihael before the hermit can bleed to death.

Kasyr finds his right arm drifting over his left, a subconscious attempt at styming the bleeding. With a bow towards his adoring fans, and with one specifically directed towards Satoshi, the Revenant simply begins to slowly walk out. Though, not without his prize- those who are diligent might notice the peculiar behaviour that his shadow engages in, as a small portion of it distorts and lengthens, if only to ensnare that fallen coin purse, and drag it away.

Satoshi moves to follow after Kasyr, but not before pausing to gaze at Kirien once more, expression and detectable emotions a solid wall of neutrality the Empath is unlikely to crack in the immediate. But at least there is nothing of the glacial look Kasyr had given the terramancer. Nodding to the fox, Satoshi departs to catch up with her husband as the matches are done for today.