Duel:Landirion v Tiphareth
Duel Info
- Judges: Kirien (mid), Vexar, Lirithen
- Stakes: Autohit beatdown round, no maiming
- Rd/time: 3rds / 10 min
- Date: 7/28/11, 11 PM
- Venue: Kelay Way
- Decision: Tiphareth (unanimous)
Venue
Kelay Way
Tiphareth vs Landirion
Tiphareth looks over the wood elf, disgust evident upon his aged features as he studies the man from head to toe. A slight gesticulation of his hands sends the Xalious wood staff suddenly into appearance within his grasp, knuckles growing white in contrast to his ebon skin as his grip tightens in anticipation for battle. The Eldermage contemplates provocative words, but decides rather to allow his actions dictate for him. Adept grace sends the magical staff spiraling between his fingers, the venerable Drow chanting a short incantation as his spellwork draws arcane force into form. A sudden sideways swipe sends a large ball of light hurtling forward in his opponents direction, though the chanting and twirling continue. The ball splits, once, twice, three times, each time slowing and spanning outward horizontally. The arcane incantations appear to be guiding these magical orbs, though in reality they are merely a cantrip meant to distract the druid as the true target of his mystical casting may be seen by the keen of eye gathering above Landirion in a hazy cloud of scintillating tumult. A final shout is issued by the Eldermage as he slams down the butt of his arborous implement toward the ground. A stream of arcane force mirrors his actions as the bolt of violet energy rushes down from the summoned cloud. The magical energy surges with unrelenting speed in attempts to drive deep into his accursed foe, striking the man's very nervous system and leaving a mere helpless shell upon the dusty road.
Landirion watches as the Eldermage delves into the vast arcane knowledge that is at his command, and sends forth his vicious assault. While not a mage himself, magic is known to elves, and thus, when the cantrip is sent his way, the druid is prepared for the real attack. As the Drow yells, signaling the climax of his spell, Landirion begins to chant ancient hymns of druidic verses, causing the earth about him to answer in response. Beneath the druid's feet, the earth rises up to about him to form a protective dome of stone. Within moments the druid rests within, just as the bolt sent forth by the Patron of the Underdark hits. The reverberations caused by the clash of arcane and druidic magic rattles Landirion, but his protective enclosure holds. Now within a thick sphere of stone, Landirion wills the creation forth, sending the giant boulder toward the dark elf in an attempt to crush him beneath it. If Tiphareth is not quick, he will find himself flattened between the druid's protective stone sphere and the ground on which he stands now. The Eldermage has only moments to summon forth a defense, as Landirion is upon him in surprising haste, thousands of pounds of unforgiving stone rushing forth at impossible speed.
Tiphareth smirks to himself as the druid summons forth the protective barrier, it had been too long since he'd faced another wielder of force, and he welcomed the opportunity. The artificially crafted boulder is sent rushing in his direction, though still the Drow remains stoic. He was raised among earth, enveloped by it, lived it and breathed it for the bulk of his centuries. Immediately the Drow summons forth his Drow birthright and utilizes his racial ability to levitate into the air, pointing the staff directly at the oncoming ball as he recalls one of his favored incantations, the basic transmutation of stone to mud. With the completion of his brief utterances, the shell about his opponent, along with the soil and rock some 20 feet around the druid instantly shift into a wet and sticky mud of 3 feet in depth. Not a moment after the mud forms, the Eldermage utters the counter curse reverting the earth to its formerly solid consistency, hopefully trapping the Druid within. Knowing he has only moments to react before the wood elf can free himself, the Drow extends his hand as large black ball of magical darkness surrounds his opponent, another of his innate abilities inherited by blood. Within the darkness the Drow calls forth his attack, locking his fingers together as the stone about Landirion suddenly juts upward in vicious spikes, looming toward him from all directs set to pierce the druid in nearly every vital area about his elven form.
Landirion is lodged within the tomb of stone, thus is blind to the world, until he is reacquainted with the world by a most vicious means. The momentum he has acquired by traveling at such a speed has the druid flying through the air the moment his protective dome is transmuted into mud. The elf lands upon the unforgiving stone with a loud "thud!" that sounds sickening to those who are present. But with the grace of his kind, and a few acrobatics learned from watching the ranger known as Lirithen, Landirion is back upon his feet in the blink of an eye, though not without having a good measure of pain along with him. The jagged spikes that protrude forth by means of the occult verses Tiphareth unleashes manage to penetrate the druid's left leg in a gory display, causing a bone chilling cry of agony to escape the wood elf. But, as was taught to him by the enclave, Landirion quickly forces his emotions back under his control, and delves into castings of his own. Laying his hand down upon the twisted stone about him, the elf summons forth powerful druidic energy into the rock. The clashing of arcane and druidic magic causes a blast of some magnitude to explode beneath the levitating Drow, sending chunks of stone rushing forth in a powerful spray. These jagged chunks come in many shapes, from large flat slabs to some of those spikes the Eldermage created being propelled forth toward the dark elf himself. Should Tiphareth not be quick, his ancient form will be riddled by stone of his own creation, his venerable form shredded and torn asunder by the unforgiving forces of magic
Tiphareth stares down into the darkness, awaiting his opponents response and snickering a twisted smile of pleasure as he hears the cries of pain from within, though his glory is short lived as the sudden rocky blast fires upward in his direction. Propelled by the sum of druidic and arcane, the aggregate pieces pelt the Eldermage with unwavering fury. Aided only by the protective enchantment upon his skin, Tiphareth is battered about amidst the air by the pieces, some even penetrating his wards to cause a ripple of crimson vitae to emerge near his upper thigh and chest area. Iniquitous claret eyes glowering with intensity, the Drow has grown weary of this battle. It had gone on too long and he intended to end it forthwith. The Xalious wood stave discarded during his rocky onslaught allows his hands to manipulate freely and unhindered. With a speed and grace only capable by one of his kind, the Sublime Master calls forth a massive gathering of his arcane power. Acting as a conduit of the mystic planes, as practiced over hundreds of years, a brilliant aura may be seen gathering about the Drow, his chanting begins to accompany the gesticulations as his movements grow even more complex. Words flow together in arcane verse not uttered upon the surface for aeon's, the air growing still and thick as the entire venue grows quiet. Not a cricket nor breeze, a mere rustling of leaves can be heard, only the stentorian chanting of the venerable mage before he finally aims his palms toward the darkness below in which his opponent resides. "You wish to trade terramancy with ME!" The mage shouts in anger as he completes the spells with a final yell. The earth about his opponent suddenly shifts, as if an earthquake were targeted directly beneath him, though this is only the forward indication of what is to come as the ground cracks into massive boulders and suddenly begins churning about as if whipped about a blender, adept movements continue from the Drow as the ground grows more turbulent with each passing moment, attempting to grind the wood elf into a bloody mass of bone and flesh.
Landirion would watch in horror, if he were not still trapped within this globe of darkness the Drow placed about him. And while this looks most horrible for the druid, the truth of what unfolds is quite the opposite. Keen elven hearing picks up on the prideful boasting of the sublime master, allowing the wood elf a moment to contemplate what is to come next. Terramancy is the dark elf's specialization, aye? Very well. Within those very close moments that the world seems to go silent, Landirion dives into some of the most advanced of druidic abilities. His body begins to contort as the earth begins to rumble, bones realigning themselves as the elf's lean body take on the shape of a large eagle. With wings spread wide, the druid takes flight, just as the whirlpool of earthly death cascades upon his surroundings, the darkness that dominates where he once was, now home to utter destruction below. Tiphareth would have only a moment to take in the sight of a large hawk flying toward him from out of the globe of darkness, the shrill cry of the druid in animal form overshadowed by the savage torrent of stone-death that lies below. Unless Tiphareth is expecting this, he has only moments before his ancient form is impaled by razor sharp talons, aimed to dig into the Drow's ebon flesh, and then rip apart anything it takes hold of.
Tiphareth breathes heavily upon the completion of his casting, though just enough breath remains for him to curse the vile opponent who had just escaped his massive onslaught. No screams of torture, no agony from within, only the lone hawk rising upward with stunning speed toward the Eldermage. Utilizing what minor energy the mage has left, his right arm reaches down to draw the Immortal spirit of Trist'oth from its hook upon his side, quickly swiping in a diagonal motion toward the oncoming creature. A torrent of barbs are sent rushing out, though only enough to cause a minor course alteration in the raptor's flight as it latches onto his forearm. Quickly declining from his levitated state the Drow, flicks a small latch on his wrist sending the hidden dagger jutting outward. The knife is thrust in between the creatures talons and the flesh of his arm as he grunts a curse of pain whilst prying the creature from him. Finally getting the nasty creature from off his flesh, the Drow takes firm grip upon the whip, preparing for another possible assault from the winged beast.
Autohit post
Tiphareth watches as the eagle seems to be growing weaker, the druid slowly shifting back to his previous wood elven form. A keen eye spots one of his barbs stuck cleanly in the creatures side, ah.. it had met flesh, and now the Drow paralytic poison was doing it's work. Walking slowly over to the creature, blood dripping down his hand and coating the flogger's many falls, Tiphareth narrows his glare upon the helpless creature. The whip is spun deftly within his grasp before the Patron drives down with all of his might to slash across his opponents flesh with it's ensorcelled falls. Stinging barbs drive deep into the wood elf's flesh, spreading their painful toxin deep into his soft flesh. Once, twice, then finally a gruesome third blow is rained down upon his fallen foe. The man's chest and shoulders bear deep lacerations from the barbed strikes, leaving behind vast quantities of poison. Turning his back on the druid, the Drow slowly walks to the place where his Xalious wood stave had fallen to the ground, recovering it as he walks northward into the tavern for a well deserved refreshment, leaving his foe in torturous pain upon the unforgiving earth behind him.