Duel:Khitti v Cresente, Match 4 of the 2023 War Games - Larket v Cenril
Duelists: Khitti vs Cresente Duel: Traditional 3 rounds with final defense, 20 minute posting limit. Stakes: Standard, autohit delivered by winner with allowance for final reply. Judges: Daisy, Mesdoram, and Rumiko
Fair Lane
The sign depicts an appropriate name for this relatively quiet, pleasant intersection. Running alongside the river on its west side, and the bustling tenements to the east, it is certainly a place for those who wish to begin adventure in the countryside. To the north, the road continues beside the river. To the east, it runs back toward the center of town, while to the west a bridge runs over the glittering water.
Cresente || The mercenary had known from the beginning of his contract that there were several stores sprinkled throughout the city for dissenters of the Crown to congregate. Moving through them to listen for new opportunities, he had heard little but whining and moaning about tax rates and how citizens were not truly complicit in any alleged war crimes just because they did not actively oppose it. Useless. It was none of his business until that damn pair kept crossing his path. Now he waits on a miserable overcast night that threatens rain at any moment, his wings tucked under his coat to keep from getting soggy for when it inevitably comes. Even if it ends things completely, he needs to tell them why he took this contract. As the redhead appears from Anarchy Ink, he steels his nerves. “We need to talk.” Cresente calls out from across Fair Lane. This is a completely normal way to communicate with someone who wants to kill you. So far, so good, buddy.
Khitti had put in her shift at Anarchy Ink. She’d even used the time spent there to practice a little, by giving herself a couple new piercings (one on her left eyebrow and an extra set in both ears). Safe to say she was in a little bit of pain, but it was nothing that a few drinks wouldn’t solve. She’d already had a few at work, of course. Such was the nature of things in Anarchy Ink. And she’d so hoped she’d have a couple more at home. That is… until she locked the door to the tattoo parlor and turned around to find Cresente standing right there. ‘We need to talk’, he said. “There is nothing to speak of. You made your choice. Whatever gold you’re making from this is blood money. If Macon wins this war… do you even understand the danger you’ve put what’s left of my family in?” Just the thought of it brought that anger to the forefront of her mind again. It dulled the pain of her new piercings. But it could not dull the pain that was brought on just by looking at Cresente. “You made your choice, betrayer… Now die!”
Round One
Khitti || After her declaration of death towards Cresente was made, the shadows in the area pooled around the redhead, engulfing her completely until she just wasn’t there anymore. She shadowstepped, of course, to the top of the building, using the temporary high ground to put distance between her and the avian. Violent, violet fireballs erupted in her palms and were soon sent flying down towards the mercenary. Moments later, more shadow elements were conjured up, this time that of ice, grey crystals collecting and forming into various sized spikes, just floating above her hands before they too were thrown below. And finally, she’d send her black lightning, the twilight witch attempting to use all her skills necessary to try to keep him grounded, doing her best to keep the area littered with the elements of the Black Tides.
Cresente reaches a hand out to try to make her pause, let him cut in to tell her that she's got things wrong, but the shadows engulf her before he can take her hand. The strange method of teleportation disorients the avian for a moment, forcing him to look for Khitti along the street instead of up on the rooftops. Only too late does he see the fireballs coming straight at him, and he is forced to take the brunt of the attack. Turning his back, his coat along the back is completely destroyed with the first burst, then his feathers singe at the burst of the second fireball. Gritting his teeth from the pain, he takes his crossbow in his left hand to stave off further attacks. “I didn’t--” Cresente deflects the icicle spears with his sword, and moves straight down the street to get out of Khitti’s line of sight, to hopefully force her to come back down. It does not take long for those nearby to take notice, and a crowd quickly gathers, with Larketian guards shoving their way forward to assess the situation. “It’s not about the money!” Cresente shouts, ducking out from his hiding place behind a towering box of crates to shoot an exploding dart from his crossbow at the roof shingles beneath Khitti’s feet. The lightning strikes quick and true, missing him by only a hairs’ breadth. Then, the world goes quiet for the avian. The resulting thunder has blown out his eardrums, and he can feel the evidence of it trickling onto his skin. Crap, how was he going to be sure if Khitti could hear him now?! Abandoning the idea of stealth as quickly as he attempted it, Cresente flaps his wings and takes to the rooftops as well. Standing a good distance away from the necromantic witch, he withdraws throwing stars and runs towards her, throwing the stars in erratic patterns to make them harder to detect. Those bladed stars that miss, though, hover in midair before beginning to make an arc back towards the closest target available.
Round Two
Khitti || The roof shingles exploded and as Khitti made ready to send more fire to He Who Betrayed Her below, one foot aimed to steady herself, but found nothing but sliding tiles to slip on. Ugh, Magik was going to kill her for that. Or worse, yell at her. That’s all she could think about at the moment as she fell off the roof and hit the ground below, both her head and back connecting with the cobblestones of Fair Lane. Fueled by rage and spite, Khitti did her best to try to shake things off. Olive-green eyes looked around for her quarry, but found nothing but chaos. It’s only then that she realized that she had a few throwing stars sticking out of a leg and an arm. They’re ripped out promptly, but kept on hand just in case as she pushed herself to her feet. “WHERE ARE YOU?!” Seeing double now, thanks to that bump on her head and the blood that seeped down the back of her neck from it, the situation only enraged her more as she bit back tears from the pain. And then finally, she spied him on the rooftops, more black lightning crackling now around her hands, and the metal throwing stars within them. Charged with her dark magic, she threw the stars back at him as best as she could. Though they flew with ease back up to him, one Cresente was now two to her, but she hoped at least her lightning wouldn’t miss.
Cresente peers down at the street in alarm as Khitti goes from standing before him to hitting the hard cobblestones. He allows a curse to fly free as he surveys the area. Civilians are now clashing with the guards who are not letting them pass to get home, and trying to discern who between the two is the aggressor. All it sounds like is muffled conversations to him in this state, even Khitti screaming at the top of her lungs. In his adrenaline-riddled brain, his objective changes from threat-neutralisation to target-immobilisation. He moves to catch his own weapons being thrown at him, not realising the threat they carry. The second he snatches one from the air so that it doesn’t hone in on him, his body seizes as lightning courses through him. Trying to fight his way through it, Cresente manages to pull the trigger of his crossbow and shoot an exploding dart at a large ornate sign hanging over the street. The dry wood bursts into flames and comes crashing down onto the street below, sending burning splinters everywhere, and with that bit of distance and distraction placed between them, Cresente allows himself to take a knee while the dark magic subsides. “Just… want to talk…” He mumbles again.
Round Three
Khitti was too out of it from the fall to really start ramping up her attack again, so she stood there watching to see if her attack worked. The crossbow bolt goes unseen in her haze, olive-green eyes settled on his duo forms, watching as the dark electricity ran through him. The burning sign fell just near Khitti, and the shrapnel from it sent everywhere. Tiny burning pieces blew into her thanks to the wind from the oncoming storm, singing her hair and clothes, but one larger one in particular burrowed itself into her abdomen, the space left open as she raised her arms to conjure up more fireballs. The witch let out an ‘oof’ and a bit of coughing from the smoke of the burning sign, but still she persisted. “What is the point in--” There was more coughing, and this time a bit of blood spattered onto the cobblestones with it. “--in talking?” She left the bit of wood in her side, she couldn’t feel it right now anyway. “We are lesser than you. You’ve always made that apparent. So do what your idiot king has asked of you and kill the witches in front of you!” The violet flames roared to life again and Khitti no longer cared about trying to preserve the random building Cresente stood on, though she certainly hoped those inside were cleared out, as she threw the balls of flame at him again.
Cresente cannot hear Khitti’s wrath, not that he would want to be hearing the rightful indignation coming from her anyways. Instead, he looks down to see her pale face scrunched in fury, mouthing vitriol to him that he can just barely make out through the haze of electrocution. There is a droplet of ice on his back, then another, and another, as the clouds part to quell the flames. The freezing rain does little to stop the fireballs, and he jumps from the rooftops to avoid them. Behind the pair, a riot has erupted between guards and citizens trying to get past the impromptu blockade. Larket is on fire, and it's screaming, and all Cresente can hear is the pulse he thought had died alongside the fall of his city. “Hate me all you want!” The burnt flesh stings at him, it compels him to scream what he has been keeping subdued. Cresente lets his wings unfurl, each end opening wide enough to touch the buildings on either side of the street. Let them get soaked. “But you would do the same if the only chance to find your bloody godsdamned family was being dangled in front of you like a carrot to a jackass!” The giant ebon wings begin flapping, slowly at first, then gaining speed, creating gale-like winds that the storm only amplifies. The burning sign and all the debris is thrown as easily as skipping stones down the street and directly at Khitti, and the freezing winds of the storm begin to mix with the burning air from the buildings to create what could very well be the beginnings of a destructive tornado if Cresente is not careful. And he is no longer being careful.
Final Defense
Khitti || Where Cresente had not heard her yelling at him, Khitti now heard everything he said as it floated towards her on the squall he was creating with his wings. And he was right. She would do it. But what kind of information would Macon even have for him? He was a liar through and through. Cresente couldn’t possibly be blinded enough to not see that? The freezing rain dropped on her, like pins and needles, stinging her already sore body. Despite the strong breeze he created, the smoke that came with it overpowered it and hit her, wave after wave, with each flap of the avian’s wings. Down into her lungs, the aching burning choking smog went, forcing her to cough and with it, spew up more blood. Well now she’s done it. Maybe another fiery death awaited her and she would have welcomed it, if it were not for the fact that it would take Khitt with her. And so she pushed past that urge to just let the elements take her and again summoned up some of her own, her hands going out before her to summon up a shadow-ice wall to block some of Cresente’s attack. It just barely held, as splintering cracks ran along it, from the combined might of her weakening magic and Cresente’s onslaught.
Winner: Cresente
Auto-hit
Cresente steps forward as his wings beat ferociously, raising his crossbow that aimed squarely at Khitti’s throat. He knew the winds better than any short-sighted human ever would, there was no doubt that the bolt would hit its mark through the gales and debris. But he hesitates. His wings slow, and he takes another step forward. The shot would be lethal. From the way tired emerald eyes look back at his own amber ones, it is something that she knows as well. Her magic would not be enough to stop it from this distance. There was nothing honorable about this, and they both knew it. He allowed an emotionally vulnerable human to get close enough that the void in their heart might be temporarily assuaged, not realizing that his heart had done the same. His wings stop, and with it, the gale and impending cyclone ceases. Instead, Cresente strides towards the tired necromancer, who has now fallen to her knees. He takes her hand and presses a letter bearing the seal of the Royal Larketian court into her palm. “Believe me or not, but know I did not betray you for simple gold pieces.” As the citizens of Larket start to calm long enough to be detained by the guards for their participation in the riot, Cresente turns and disappears between two buildings.
Khitti|| Her strength was leaving her. Khitti could feel the darkness closing in on her mind as her magic waned against Cresente's onslaught. But then it slowly stopped. And suddenly he was in front of her and a letter was pressed into her hand. Words were said, but not harshly. The whole thing felt surreal as dizziness took hold of her. And then he turned away, and it wasn't just the avian that left. He took his cynical, moody, cigarette-smoke-filled, yet surprisingly gentle aura--his entire presence--with him. The very thing that had once given Khitt a strange sort of fire, and even Khitti too, of late. It was like pulling the very air from Khitti's lungs, leaving her wishing he -had- ended her existence. Once it--and he--were gone, she knew she had to move. Her magic gone for now, she took the letter and her things and ran into the forest. Ran to the hemlock grove that had once been Valrae's sanctuary, once upon a time. And there she waited, until the guards had taken their prisoners and the fight melded into obscurity.