Duel:Khitt v Lita, Match 11 of the 2022 Vailkrin Tournament
Duel: Traditional 3 rounds with final defense, 20 minute posting limit. Stakes: Auto-hit to the winner Judges: Mahri, Kanna, Loravelle
Dark Arena
The arena is filled with various corpses, both dead and undead alike. Several zombies seem to be carrying the corpses out of the arena, returning them to the masters they served. Many bodies here look disfigured and ill, clearly abominations constructed by necromancers to serve in the gladiator-like battles held here in the arena. Several of the other bodies though are completely normal, those of which were likely living participants that did not succeed in winning their matches. A battle must have recently gone on here, as the crowds of people step out of the entrance of the area. To the south is the way out, while to the north is a path leading to the back of the arena, and the castle beyond that.
The Champion’s Throne of Skulls is here.
Pre-Duel Banter and Introductions
The stone seats of the dark arena have been renovated and polished in anticipation of tonight's event, and are packed shoulder-to-shoulder. One could easily split the crowd down the middle to separate the Khitt fans, sporting the deep violet of his shadowfyres and rounded sunglasses favored by the bare knuckle boxer, and the Lita fans, wearing deep green suede overcoats like the one often seen on the petite woman's form, or who have painted charcoal and ink under their eyes like warpaint. At the highest point of the dark arena, giving a perfect vantage point of the entirety of Vailkrin, a skull of thrones has been assembled for the champion of tonight’s match. Vailrkin’s favorite band, the Sound of Sirens, plays music for the waiting masses on a stage painted by the best and brightest of SoulsKin artists. From the elevated commentator's box, Kanna and Quintessa rise to greet the masses for the final time, each dressed in elegant silk Rynvalian robes. The dark fae’s kimono sports the visage of Ahr’Nuk against blackened skies, while Kanna’s is silver, sporting the visage of Valaane. Upon Kanna's head is the newly revealed runner-up prize, the mysterious nightmare-warding iron crown. Upon her head, it has transformed to show a peridot and ruby center that eclipse each other like Ahr'Nuk eclipses Valaane. In Quintessa's raised fist to encourage the cheers of the spectators is a serpentine athame, its red gemstone eyes reflecting in the moonlight to bathe the entire arena in its unsettling light like the mage’s moon does upon its yearly perigee. Saorsa Cladach, the ginger-headed vampiress of Castle Blackwell rises alongside them, her hand hovering over the runic markings that would amply her voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, nonbinaries and cryptids, welcome one and all to the grand finale of the Vailkrin Blood Bowl! It is the match you have all been long anticipating, to see which fighter will claim the powerful, extremely dangerous items of nightmarish charm, hosted in Hollow’s one and only City of Nightmares!” Kanna steps forward, leaning into the speaking runes. “On this end of the arena, it's the beautiful vampire fighter that makes grown men and women alike weak in the knees, it's the ravishing famed artist of Port Rynvale with a tattoo wait-list longer than a dragon’s tail, let me hear you scream for Lita!”
Lita is mostly no longer hungover, save for the annoyance of a brief headache but she'll live. Long enough to make her way back into the arena at least. There are familiar faces that are afforded brief glances on her way past the spectator stands. There's not much fanfare to her entrance on her part, per usual. Just not her style. She's dressed simply, the usual little black sundress that leaves her arms and shoulders bare, no shoes, just a bone charm anklet around her right foot. The only thing new to her attire for today's bout is the leather braces adorning her left arm, painstakingly if not lovingly crafted by the pirate at last minute. The black leather features the striking image of an outstretched crow's wing, from wrist to forearm, the tips of the feathers stopping at her elbow. The leather gleans details in darker blue when it catches the light just so and probably conceals more than just the silver emblem at the inside of her wrist, the meaning of which a select few might recognize. Raven curls have been tied into a stricter braid than usual, a piece of a red hair mingled in, probably a token taken from a previous duel. In addition, a smear of silver paint on one shoulder depicts the crude image of a smiley face. If nothing else, she'd take her previous victories with her and be proud of those. She raises a hand to familiar faces in the stands, more than grateful to see them.
Leoxander arrived in the company of his book keeper with some ridiculous, cutesy sticker salvaged from a warehouse wall stuck to the front of his shirt on his chest. He didn’t have the fancy pop-up booth Ina tended to work from, but rather than take a seat he leaned into a half seat against the low, barrier wall surrounding the arena, the undipped end of a matchstick in his bite like one might chew a toothpick. Those looking to gamble some money on the spilling of blood would find the rogue giving a subtle beckon to bring their coin his way. Though when he heard Lita’s name announced he took the match from his mouth and replaced it with middle finger and thumb to produce a shrill whistle from the stands.
Mahri claps and stomps a foot for Lita. She's not one to yell and scream, but there might be a ghost of a smile there.
Meri screams for Lita.
Xiembantointh is here with his rowdy band of employees. He offered to pay for everyone’s drinks if they came, but they didn’t need much persuasion when they found out Lita was the contestant they’re supporting. The dragon is surprised to learn his love’s opponent is Khitt, but hopefully his client won’t take it too personal that he cheers for his girlfriend. Many whistles and hollers are in favor for Lita from the Nildran construction company!
Mahri notes the painted smiley face and smirks.
Loravelle is near Leo, but to not interrupt his game with her gigantic pony-sticker poster for Lita, she remains near her seat to unfurl it and screech the tattoo artist's name when she's announced. "GO LITA!!!!!!"
Quintessa leans forward this time, holding the pointed end of the athame at her painted lips. With a coy smile full of razor-sharp teeth, she says, “And what would this match be without an equally wonderful fighter? You all know him as the ever-vigilant leader of the infamous Necromancer’s Guild, the bare-knuckle baker of Cenril, a man who doesn’t like anyone very much, but is adored by thousands, give it up for the Calamity of Khitt!”
Meri obviously does much cheering for Khitt too. That -is- her brother.
Kanna is legally obligated to not favor one contestant over another, but there might be some rounded purple sunglasses dangling from the V in her kimono and some charcoal eyeliner dotting her freckles to make a dark constellation out of them.
Leoxander was fairly surprised to hear Quintessa’s voice announcing Khitt, but after a graze of a look across the Countess, his attention went back to the arena to the red head at the opposite end, offering what might be a courtesy clap of his hands. That, or he was just eager to see what Lita might do to him. Not that he had any real beef with the man - save that oversized pet of his.
Valrae can’t be in Vailkrin, so an unassuming woman with mousy brown hair and a freckle dotted button nose is here instead. Her arm is in a sling, but she still manages to hold a sign up for Khitt and cheer loudly at appropriate moments.
Meri can't help but stare at the injured Valrae periodically during the fight. Meri has read the news, all the news.
On Khitt’s side of the arena, where he normally stood to warm up and take shots before the match, it was drenched in shadows, a curtain keeping him from being seen while he waited to be announced. Within the shadows, he’d prepared himself as he always did, wearing the usual Iintahquohae-made suit (with the coat handed off to his wife) and silk shirt, the latter of which was a blood red, and his red-tinted pince-nez glasses. Red for the Blood Bowl, of course. Annette had styled his hair in a long braid, tying it off with one of her red ribbons for good luck, and did his makeup, the thick black liner wrapped about his eyes, and topped off with a bit of red beneath the lower eyelid. He brought the twin wootz steel chakram with him again, both fixed to his belt, waiting to be sent out on the attack against the vampire, as well as the runed gloves Quintessa had made. When he was finally announced, the shadowy curtain exploded into purple flames that took the form of a massive skull, coalesced shadows pouring from its mouth and eye sockets. He shadowstepped through the flames, moving closer towards the center of the arena, a trail of shadowfire and shadows left in his wake. His wife Annette was cheering him on in the stands, as well as the projected illusions (like the ones seen at last year’s Halloween ball) of Khitti and Brand so they could properly cheer him on, and Dominic and his chickens too. “Hi there,” he said to Lita, giving her his half-assed salute and a lopsided grin. “Are you ready?”
Lita said to Khitti, "I like parlor tricks as much as anyone."
Khitti said to Lita, "I gotta give my fans what they want. *smirks and shrugs*"
Kanna says, “Before we begin, have you both discussed any wagers, stakes, or special rules for this bout? If not we will default to standard rules (20 min post limit, autohit awarded to winner). Have the duelists agreed on who will be attacking first? If not, the host may decide for you. Judges please keep in contact with me during this match, if three judges have not been selected yet I will appoint people to fill the remaining slots.”
Kanna says, “If both duelists agree to and understand the rules, say ‘Ready,’ and the environmental hazard shall be introduced.”
Khitti said to Kanna, "Standard rules. Lita goes first."
Lita said to Kanna, "What he said."
The Environmental Challenge
A powerful wave of concentrated phobomancy sweeps the field, strong enough that even an anti-mage would find trouble fully resisting it. Though the audience sees no changes at first, the warping of the battlefield soon becomes apparent. The ground rumbles and turns a black so deep that not even moonlight reflects off of its surface. Only the faintest vestiges of jet clouds can be seen pooling around their feet. Onyx roses rise from the floors, their petals splitting to reveal rows of sharp teeth. From the shadows below, things that each contestant fears, from the mundane to the horrors of their past, will rise up and become corporeal just long enough to attempt to claim the fighters' lives before their opponent can. Whether the audience or opponent will be able to see the phantoms will be up to how strong they react to the vision. "Ahahaha!" Kanna's soubrette is a sharp contrast to the foreboding feeling taking over the stage. "If I have to face my fears, then so do you, it's only fair! No hard feelings, this was decided way ahead of time. My dear, why don't you give us a demonstration?" From the hostess box, a dwarf in rags is forced up to his feet. "I did nothing wrong! Slave trading is an honest business regardless of the age, you crazy b--" Quintessa is the one to kick him from the edge of the box into the waiting flowers below. The fanged roses act fast, reducing the criminal to gore and viscera that seeps into the nightmarish landscape. If the horrors of their mind fail to add a good element of danger, the nightmarish creatures will do just as well.
The Duel
[Disclaimer: The mid-duel and post-duel banter was lost. If you have those logs and would like to see them added here, message Kanna/Karasu.]
Lita had already been nervous about stepping into the arena today with a magic user. She wasn't so fond of the stuff after her run-in with a particularly nasty and powerful mage some years ago. She'd hoped their environmental challenge might be something simple like lava or more dragon's blood. But no, of course not. What kind of twisted mind- She sidesteps a few of those strange roses, watching with wide eyes as the fanged flowers absolutely destroy Quintessa's poor victim. She would have preferred spiders to this crap. An all too familiar voice draws her attention and she turns, putting her back to Khitt as she stares at seemingly nothing. For a moment she just stands frozen and then she crouches into the darkness that's erupted at their feet, lifting her left hand to find that silver emblem before her hand reaches for the ground, something solid. Something to cling to as she reminds herself to remain in the present. She'd have to somehow try and make her way towards Khitt, if she could make it past those flowers. She takes it slow at first, trying to use the shadows to her advantage as long as she can, but that voice just will not stop. She stands suddenly, still with her back to Khitt as she yells out, "Would you please shut up!" There's probably a few expletives laced in there too but they're drowned up by the sounds of those flowers' teeth- TEETH- snapping at her and she jumps sideways to get away from them. Well, great. She reaches for the smaller dagger sheathed beneath the hem of her skirt at her thigh and probably stupidly, cuts one of those flowers from its stalk in passing, carefully avoiding its jaws before she's tossing it towards her opponent as if it's some grenade she can volley in his direction. "Any chance you're a gardener?" She yells at him. "How does one pest control?" When all else fails in the face of fear, just throw sass at it.
Khitt couldn’t be much more in his element than he was right now. Well, he thought that until the phobomancy set in. Lita’s the first to have her fears made manifest and he thought to take the opportunity to unleash his chakrams on her, both glowing and leashed by chains of Vaalane’s light, the divine magic aiming to set the vampire aflame. He went to throw the first one, aimed at her chest, but stopped when he heard a scream. Annette’s cries and pleading filled the air as she begged for her life, the flowers gnashing their fangs at her, biting at her legs as she ran through them, trying to find a safe place. But alas. She would not. A vision of Viera, a Catalian from Brand’s past, showed her ever-elegant face and grabbed Khitt’s wife, dragging her further into the path of the hungry plants. “Annette!!” Losing Annette was the one thing he feared and his fear was so powerful that the magic manifested for the entire arena to see. Lita’s dagger found a home in his shoulder, its blade digging deep, sending a shock of pain throughout his arm. He pulled it free and tossed the blade to the side, then finally sent his chakrams flying at the vampiress, aiming for her arms and legs to try to slow her down before he shadowstepped off after Viera in a rage. He pulled the chains to jerk the glowing discs back to them, and then sent them after the Catalian woman that had his wife. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance!” For the moment, his full attention was on that wicked woman as he tried to save Annette.
Lita had meant to throw the flower. Hadn't she? She looks down at her hand where her dagger had been and sees only the gaping maw of that rose. She wrinkles her nose and makes a face at it, her shoulders shudding with a general creeped-out vibe as she drops it, shaking her hand as if she'd just touched something gross and slimy. Why the teeth though!? Khitt's screaming for someone named Annette is sharp enough to draw her attention and she looks up to see him tossing her dagger aside. Oh, there it is. Good. Except now it's in the shadowy mess of these plants. Not as good. At least she's cognisant enough to try and dodge the chakram weapons he's aimed for her, very much wary of the trickster's words, that as long as she kept the new dagger on her person, she'd be even more susceptible to damage from fire than she usually was. She narrowly avoids one of them as she leaps over it. Her only saving grace may be that he's as distracted as she seems to be. But the acrobatic attempt leaves her flailing gracelessly and landing in the dirt on one knee, rolling sideways towards on those vicious plants. She'd swear it was drooling at her as it nips for her shoulder, teeth grazing her skin as she cries out and rolls away from it again. Did she just get bit by a plant?? This was gonne leave more than physical scars. Please no one send flowers. She should be scrambling to get her feet under her again. But above her suddenly is the all-too familiar image of her beloved hound. Years later, she still remembers every minute detail of the way the hideous beast had leapt over her and she'd plunged her dagger into its chest. Even now she remembers the way it had felt to have the mage's magic coursing through her veins and now, as then, her limbs move of their own accord and she reaches for the fancy new dagger concealed within the leather bracer on her forearm. Imbued with the ashes of that same hound. Khitt's voice is yelling somewhere outside her peripheral and she reminds herself to breathe again, remembering where she is. She clambers to her feet finally. How was this any sort of fair match? She flips the blade in her palm and squeezes her fingers around the curve of the blade. The pain is sharp, forces her to focus, and she grits her teeth. "Hey!" She yells after Khitt, who like herself seems to be chasing phantoms. "Get a grip, will you?" As if she's any room to talk. "You an' me've unfinished business, here!" She starts picking her way carefully through the flowers towards him again, a trail of blood in her wake from her palm.
‘Get a grip, will you?’ found its way to Khitt’s ears making the witch stop short on his path to annihilate Viera. “Tch, fine.” Deep down, he knew it wasn’t real, but not even the gods could stop him from hurting anyone that hurt his wife. He turned his back on Viera, all the while Annette was still screaming, begging for Khitt to save her and it clearly pained him. He threw the chakrams at Lita again, the now unchained holy magic discs soaring through the air to hit her anywhere it could. That was only a distraction of course, as his hands lit up with that same rainbowy holy magic. He shadowstepped after her, the flowers tearing at his arms and legs as he went through them to get at the vampire. As he closed the gap, he pulled back his right arm to full-on punch her right in the face, but shadowstepped once more to appear directly behind her, the back of her head now his target. Only seconds later, his left fist was pulled back, the witch teleporting again back to her front, the blow aimed squarely for her chest. He was attempting to be faster than the vampire, but whether or not that actually worked out remained to be seen. He’d continue his flurry of punches, that is until the Viera illusion waltzed up behind him and grabbed his arms to hold them behind his back. “You really -should have- killed me,” she said to Khitt, her words cold and dripping with malice. “I always come back and I’m going to finally kill Brand and Annette and there’s -nothing- you can do about it.” Khitt struggled against her, but was failing, his fear of her too strong.
Lita smirks as Khitt turns to face her again. Finally. An actual brawl? She's probably too excited about the prospect of this. She flips the dagger in her palm again, her fingers flexing around the bone hilt of it. She's really starting to abhor those fancy little chakrams of his though. She ducks one, taking a few wide steps, the other thwarted by the blade of her dagger before she tosses the blade into her left palm, shaking her right hand against the sudden pain of that fire having passed a bit close. She hisses a breath through her teeth. She'd seen the shadow-stepping before in Khitt's previous duels, though she's thankfully not as surprised to see it now and she flickers her gaze to track the witch's movements as best she can, trying to anticipate his path. She ducks beneath his punch to her face but isn't expecting him to appear suddenly behind her. The dagger anticipates this before she can and her left arm extends forward in a sharp motion, pulling her a step forward and out of his reach before she can think to react properly. This unfortunately makes her an open target as he teleports in front of her again and she takes a fist square to the chest. The blow is enough to knock the wind from her lungs but she gets her arms up, not even bothering to try and attack back with this onslaught. She's quick enough to block most of that flurry of blows, turning so his fists are deflected as much as can guide them, across her forearms or shoulders. Her fingers flex around that dagger and she can only smirk, keeping her head down. Somewhere behind her is the familiar voice of a mage she'd spent years trying to crawl out from under the memories of. The guilt of the lives she'd taken is thick in her throat but the pain helps her focus and she welcomes it now like an old friend, leaning into it. She'll swear later that she can see someone dragging Khitt's hands backwards and away from her, though the who of it doesn't really matter for her. With the dagger in her left hand, she pulls her right arm back and aims a punch square for the witch's jaw. Then another. Her vision blurs some and it's not Khitt at all. It's that mage she'd spent too many nights running from in her nightmares. It's every goodbye she'd ever been forced to make. Every heartbreak. One punch after another, unrelenting, barely registering the roses trying to gnaw at her ankles as she advances towards him, her fists aiming for his jaw and his chest and anywhere she could find purchase, really. Until her muscles ache with the effort and her lungs burn, unless he's of a mind to stop her.
Khitt took the beating that Lita was dishing out as Viera held him back til the last possible moment. Woozy and bloodied from the punches, the redhead haphazardly shadowstepped away from her, but not very far, leaving him to try to catch his breath, each one short from bruised lungs and broken ribs, and spew out blood every now and then. There was no real way for recovery beyond trying to just push through it all and end the match as quickly as possible. It was then as he looked over at her after a moment, all he could see was Viera standing where Lita stood. The fear magic took hold again, tricking him into thinking that now was the opportunity to kill that wretched priestess of Cire. “You’re going to burn for all of eternity, Viera!” In each hand, he summoned up balls of shadowfire, their flames burning brightly as they flew through the air at Lita. And if that didn’t stop She-Who-Was-Definitely-Not-Viera, well, he’d make the orbs of fire bigger and bigger every time until they even threatened to swallow their wielder whole, as he made sure to attempt to stay on the run, though it was rather difficult. Eventually, he ran out of steam, both with the running and the magic, the tiredness only fueling his rage further. A second wind came and instead of trying to burn Lita, he took to setting the whole inside of the area on fire instead, burning the flowers as they still gnawed at his flesh. He was very much going to kill her if she didn’t move quickly, and he’d kill himself too right along with her, if it meant getting rid of Viera.
Lita is confused at first when Khitt calls her Viera. Breathing heavily, tired and sore, she doesn't pursue when he shadow-steps away from her. She glances over her shoulder at that name though, as if there might be someone behind her. And it's only then that she realizes that Khitt must still be seeing some sort of madness of his mind's creation too. She was used to chasing and running from the ghosts of her past. But for whatever reason, the only reaction she has to Khitt's yelling about her burning for all of eternity, is laughter. A soft and silvered sound which is entirely out of place for the arena's dark setting but it grows steadily, until her abdomen hurts with the effort and she doubles over, wiping at her eyes. This is the only thing that stops that first shot of shadow fire from burning her entirely. Instead it sears over her and she crouches even further to feel the heat of it passing her. All at once that unsettling laughter is silenced and she reaches a hand back to verify that her braid is still intact. Big sigh of relief there. She stands, about to launch some witty retort in his direction, but there's another ball of shadowfire being launched in her direction. She's fairly ill-equipped to defend against magic at the moment, so she does what she can and that is turning in the opposite direction and running. Thankfully, being a vampire has made her fast. Khitt keeps on her heels though, those flames getting larger and increasingly difficult to dodge and keep away from. She slips her dagger back into her bracer as she keeps on the move and touches the emblem there again. She's no ability to shadow-step but that emblem does offer a bit of enhanced stealth ability as she crouches into the arena's shadows, working to avoid those flames and the roses at the same time. She makes a wide arc round the outside of the arena, aiming to come up behind him if she can manage such a thing. He's nearly burned all of those flowers to ash but she manages to snag a few in passing, trying her best not to lose fingers as she tosses the roses- in all their starving glory- towards the witch's ankles. Hoping the shadows might be enough to conceal them and that he might be distracted enough to allow her to get close again and drag him off his feet.
Winner’s Autohit & Wrap-Up
Kanna rises to announce, “Ladies and gentlemen and all those between, this has been an excellent duel, more than worthy of satisfying the bloodthirsty gods that walked Vailkrin's streets before us. All things must come to an end, and there must be a winner, and a runner-up. With that being said, put your hands together for the very first Blood Champion... LITA!!!!!! A wonderfully well-fought match all around that would not be possible without the work of Khitt, so please give him all your commiserations as well! Lita, you may now deal the final blow.”
Lita snags the opportunity between balls of thrown fire- Khitt seemed to be searching for where she'd slunk off to- and reaches from the shroud of shadows at his feet to grasp his right ankle, yanking hard, sending him to his feet in the dirt and unless he wriggled some out of the way, probably into the path of some of those roses. She's not in charge of his safety, here, just her own, which at the moment means getting him to stop hurling angry little suns at her. She drags him closer, pulling at his shirt as he probably tries to get away from her and she reaches for his shoulder, rolling him to his back as she stands, lifting a foot to slam it with all her might down into his chest. As he's still gasping for air, she stands on him, lifting her left foot, drawing it back before unceremoniously kicking forward into his face, as if his head were a sports ball and she were going for the winning basket. Lita doesn't play sports, but she knows how to kick things. And Khitt's head might not be attached but this was the blood bowl after all. Wouldn't be very much fun if she didn't try to spill a little of his, whether that be a dislocated jaw or broken nose, didn't matter much to her on that particulars. But she might be limping a little on that foot now as she turns towards the suddenly cheering crowd, searching for familiar faces.
Khitt didn’t really have it in him much to fight back at this point as he’d all out in hopes of destroying Viera. So when Lita dished out her kicks, he took everyone of them. -Especially- the one to the face that busted open his nose. So he just kinda laid there, half in and out of consciousness as Annette came to tend to him, so you know, he doesn’t choke on his own blood that seeped out of his nostrils and on down into his throat.
Kanna steps down from the hosting box, taking the athame from Quintessa Blackwell, who then disappears into the shadows before those who wish her harm can act. With a snap of her fingers, the phobomancy is gone, as well as any last vestiges of the fanged roses not burned away by Khitt's shadowfire. It's a convincing enough ploy from the necromancer's in the stands to make it look like she is still a necromancer, just for tonight. Turning to Lita, Kanna holds out the nightmare athame by the blade for the vampire to take. "May you always have the strength to fight against your nightmares. You are stronger than anything this world and the next; so much so, that the keepers of nightmares should fear you." And to Khitt, Kanna kneels and removes the crown from her head, which morphs back into it's otherwise unremarkable form. She winces at the bruises quickly forming under the blood on his face as Annete and Meri help prop him up. "And may you always sleep well, knowing that the sun will rise after the darkest of nights." With that, she places the crown on his head, and the Blood Bowl concludes.