Duel:Lucky v Revion

Duelists: Lucky vs. Revion
Duel: Traditional 3 rounds with final defense, 15 minute posting limit.
Stakes: A custom item from Ranok.
Judges: Orikahn, Lionel, and Lanara

Scenic View

Oh, the view! You think to yourself, as you overlook this cliff. You feel no fear from this great height, due to the amazing view down the mountain, to a tree-filled valley. From here you can see a large park, with people eating and playing sports of all kinds, as well as rolling hills and a large fountain. Beyond that is the great Xalious Tree, the incarnation that the god of the same name has taken. Also visible from here is a small village resting in a valley in between the mountains, and above that the great Mage Tower, the training place of the spell casters. You think you could stay here forever, taking in these wonderful sights, but you must press on soon. Off to the east, you notice a small hut in rather shoddy condition, probably unused for quite some time. In a quiet corner is a tiny little grave, freshly dug surounded by many flowers, the majority of them being baby's breath and and crisp fresh purple roses. All of them left in tribute for what you expect was a very young soul. A roughly carved statuette of a young feline is here, with, - You will not be forgotten' engraved in the base

Lucky sauntered up the the road, the cliff’s daunting edge in plain view with a red sunset laying the land out in all its pretty, twilight colors, and that steep drop. Inky hair pulled back out of her face in a ponytail and callused arms wrapped from elbows to fingers, she squares off at the base of the ledge. That shiny falchion she’d saved up for rested on her hip and she yanks it out from its sheath. Time to break it in the new toy. She squinted against what was left of the sun’s fading rays, but saw enough to place Revion’s position, should he stand right in front of her. Either way, she’d catch those beams on the flat of her blade, angling the light in front of her at anyone in her path, ideally at her opponent's eyes so he got just as much glare as her. Not a half-second later, the towering amazon’s bare feet took her in the start she knew best for any battle, a head first charge into her hopefully blinded opponent, where she’d slash the single edge of that sword toward his gut, for starters. Friendly bout or not, not moving might cost him his intestines.

Revion was standing near the edge of the cliff, peering over the landscape and taking in a much-deserved breather of refreshingly clean air. Given his frequent haunts have been taverns and fighting arenas, packed with all sorts of foul smells and tastes, to be once more back in the embrace of nature revitalizes the druid in numerous ways. He has no real means of divining a sudden and unprovoked attack upon his person, nor would he assume such was coming his way in the form of a wandering warrior seemingly gone berserk! There was no battle cry, no other warning save the shrill ring of her sword being freed from its housing, which barely alerts the elf to something flanking him to his rear. If not for that sound, the druid would have been caught wholly unaware of his immediate doom, and mayhap would have been holding his guts in his hands as the mother had whose child lays in the grave not far from this newly christened battlefield. It is by sheer dumb luck, mixed with a good bit of fear that drives the wood elf’s body to contort in a fashion that mostly saves him. His father would at least be proud to note that years of sword lessons were not wasted, rest his soul. This sudden aggression would usually have been met by the desire to council a peaceful resolution but given recent events have had the druid finding attempts on his life from various sources, he’d chalk this up as another like encounter and begin to react in kind. A guy can only be so passive when his life is in constant danger, ya know? And so, the druid goes into a stance that allows him to use his opponent’s momentum against themselves, hip turning as Lucky’s blade continues its course. The steel, meant to gut him then and there, instead slices deep into his right side, causing a rather crude flow of slurs to flood forth as precious vitae spills upon the group, staining both the blade and Revion’s newly bought leather leggings a bright crimson. But such would not be pondered upon for long, as now the it’s the elf’s turn to attack, to which this would be assassin quickly finds out he has no qualms about. The flat of the blade is met by an open palm that travels with startling speed in a move designed to send the blade flying sideways at an angle that would make keeping hold either a priority, or a disadvantage. This is very quickly followed up by the elf shifting his feet wide, so his frame finds a balance and footing to allow hips to square off, in which his other hand is sent forth with the same celerity as the first. This attack, aimed at the diaphragm of his assailant, packs a power one would not expect from one so small. That is because the druid channels the strength of the bear into his counter, hoping the sudden impact will find a solid hit and knock the wind right out of this stranger’s sails. Either way, the elf would prefer not to continue a fight in such close quarters with an armed foe, and strike landing or not, the elf quickly back pedals as best he can, his left hand going to rest over his open wound, trying to stop the free flow of blood that he will have a hell of a time dealing with later. Either way, right now his focus would have to be on what’s in front of him, and he’d have a good rest on the earth tonight to try to mend wounds later.

Lucky might’ve had a penchant for trouble making as opposed to making friends when wandering the open road, and a day full of frustrating drunks had her gearing for substance. And oh the meaty morsel she’d picked up as that new sword went flying over the side of that cliff into the abyss where she too was headed if she didn’t think fast. She dug the balls of her feet into the ground as the elf twisted, only her body left to defend the former Gualon pit fighter. She skidded to a halt just short of the cliff’s edge, but then that open palm strike came hard and fast just between her ribs. Heels so close to the open air, she eats the hit, but grabs for the stranger’s shoulders so that, if she were to find purchase there he’d come right with her. That punch had a little extra behind it, though, like an orc had slammed her instead of a dainty tree-hugger. That was a crack in her side, not puncturing anything since she still breathed without hacking up blood, but damned if she wasn’t wheezing just then. Quick thinking are all she’s got as she twists and launches herself the opposite direction as the cliff’s edge, expecting to either avoid an untimely fall or if her grab had landed the way she wanted it to, she’d send the two of them rolling toward the base again. And make a hamfisted attempt to bring her elbow down on the other’s windpipe in the process. If she’d missed...well at least she’d make some distance as she went rolling.

Revion feels the warmth of his own blood runs through his fingers that clutch as the wound upon his side. It was bad, but not beyond the scope of his healing abilities should he survive this encounter. But, that seems up in the air at this moment, seeing as this stranger continues with their unprovoked assault. Lucky’s grab finds the loose white linen shirt the druid had on, but due to the tear it received from her own previous attack, she’d find the material unable to bare her weight as she wished, causing the elf’s shirt to rip right off him and spin him about in violent manner in the opposite direction! Her tumble saves this assassin from a fall down the hill, and Revion’s own roundabout sends him stumbling several yards away that he is barely able to catch himself from. A moment is taken for proper footing to find itself again, but now space was between them, and with every moment that the druid’s bare feet touch the earth below them both he can draw power. The first focus is to draw energy that allows him to have increased stamina. This will last a short while, but it will at least stem off the weakness caused by his still bleeding wound. The druid’s focus quickly goes into trying to keep that distance between him and this madman. Madwoman? Madperson? Each step is painful, his left hand almost constantly bound to his injury to act as a blockade for the blood flow, but luckily, he is not a mage, whose hands are often needed to weave their craft. Hoping the earth is in a listening mood, Revion calls forth the ground beneath Lucky as his free hand touches the ground before him, followed by a thunderous “shealbhú go tapa!” Hold Fast! In the ancient tongue of druids. The earth seems to hear its child’s plea, because you ask the earth, you do not demand anything from it. The soil and stone of the cliff rise around Lucky’s feet to bind that woman where she stands, allowing the sylvan the opportunity to ask one more thing of his beloved mother. “Sáigh!” He pleas! Willing the earth to strike back at his aggressor! She listens, and answers with the wrath one might expect of a mother and her child. The same earth around lucky, that stone and root filled soil erupts forth, sending spikes of stone and wood from multiple angles in a circular pattern around the hopefully stuck in between a rock and a pointy place brawler. If she is bound, dodging such will prove a challenge, but if the nimble warrioress has managed to escape the earth’s grasp, she will find mother nature not so simple to evade, as those same stone and wood spikes, measuring some 4 feet long and 12 inches think still try to make her a pincushion. Hoping this buys him some time, Revion goes to channel another bit of magic, but needs time to channel such strength, and secretly hoping the earth hasn’t tired of his requests so far…

Lucky was a woman alright, strapped down as her chest was under the her leather shirt and as much lean muscle as she did have. A feral glint in her green eyes and a toothy smile to match stare back at the druid as she hops to her feet. Of course, it disappeared the next second as the motion sends that cracked rib poking places it shouldn’t and she’s left as one-handed as him as her left arm cradles her midsection to stabilize it. Much as the adrenaline pumping through her veins made the rush she so liked, this fight for sport turned to survival real fast as the ground trembles under her bare feet, stone and soil flowing up her legs. Damn, one of those magic types. Something familiar resembling fear rushes in with whatever else makes her blood sing as she uses those calluses on the heels of her hands to strike at what nature herself started trying to wrap around her calves. There’s scrapes a plenty as she manages to make enough room early on to yank herself out and dart away from the unruly ground, stumbling as the pain lances through her side white hot. Then the spikes, oh the spikes that strike up. She managed to stumble to the left as one shoots up from her right side, then shifts as another shoots up from her left. It’s the one that shoots up from behind, striking low, that bites into her calf, the pointy end slashing hard and the thicker part pushing her toward another. It’s instinct more than willful thought that makes her bend away from the lethal spike and bash her midsection against its girth instead. Still, down a leg with a bruised gut that wanted her head on a pike, she manages some spastic patchwork as she shimmies her sheath’s belt up and tightens it enough that it could hold her rib in. She rolls and manages to grab the next spike that shoots up, mounting it with gritted teeth as the bleeding gash in her calf screams at her to stop already. She didn’t know the meaning of the word as she uses the momentum of the spike shooting from the ground to launch herself at the druid in an improvised pounce, managing to push off at the last moment with her good leg. If she landed on top of him like she planned, she’d try to hook him in another of those grapple attempts and bit his bare torso as hard as her teeth could manage, and perhaps a knee between his legs to make it extra dirty. Nice time was over with blood thick in the air.

Revion felt his life flow through his own wound, even as he felt energy drawn from the earth course through him. Its an odd sensation, to say the least, feeling life come and go in various ways through you. But his channeling demanded his entire focus, else he’d suffer terribly for half attempting to control the elements as he was. While fear of the woman before him was real, fear of pissing off the elements was far greater, and so no time was taken to enjoy the earth’s attack upon Lucky’s form. But, in that same instance, no time was taken to watch the woman ride atop one of those spikes and soar towards him like a hawk after its prey. How could the druid miss such? Well, currently his eyes were rolled into the back of his skull, leaving only the whites of his eyes visible to those watching. Now, time is a fickle thing, doing only as it pleases, and -maybe- sometimes working in some gods like beings’ favor. But right now, Revion could almost see it slow. Ya know, if he was looking that is. Its more of a sensation, time standing still. Word is it happens is all sorts of manners. When you see the love of your life for the first time, or when you’re about to die and all the things you recall flash before you in a split second. Taking a wild guess that this woman isn’t the love of his life, given she has tried gutting him without saying so much as a single word to him. Didn’t even buy him a drink! So, is this death’s last vision of all the thoughts the druid can recall? Is that why the hairs on his arm start to rise as this crazed woman lunges forth to maybe land the killing blow? Was that sensation in the air the arrival of the horsemen, come to take him to the afterlife? No. No it was not. All of that was in fact the build up of Revion’s spell come manifest, and not a moment too damn soon I might add! The once clear evening sky rumbles, dark cloud rush to center over the fighting pair and darken the already gloomy battlefield. Just as the warrior woman’s decent upon him finishes, a deep and resounding explosion of sound burst forth from the epicenter of this gathering storm, sending forth a powerful bolt of lighting that streaks down as a manifestation of nature’s wrath. The woman’s leap finds Revion just as the lightning would find her. Given the leap has her airborne, maneuvering around would be damn well one extraordinary feat for sure. But it seems such an attack has also left Revion, the caster behind the electrical eruption of power, to also be in danger. If she was struck or not, the gods only know, but Revion sure as hell is, and by everything he holds dear he has never felt pain like that. The druid is sent flying back towards the old cabin, right next to the child’s grave as if the earth herself has chosen where he will be buried for daring to use her power in such excess! But, life seems to cling to this elf like this departed babe may have to its mother’s breast, because it seems the amulet he wears upon his neck absorbed a vast amount of the power, the brunt of it if you will, leaving only a white-hot iron medallion searing his flesh in the wake of what should have been instant death! Either way, strength fading, would sizzling from the electrical surges that just ran through him, Revion holds on to what consciousness he has left to take a peak at what happened to his foe.

Lucky had avoided quite a few things in her life: fists and swords, shields and axes, and just then more than a couple spikes shooting themselves out of the ground (her first). But if those gathering stormclouds didn’t make an ominous shadow over her, foreseeing the doom to come as she slammed into the druid. She wouldn’t land those blows, or manage the bite. No instead the world turned white around her, and she felt nothing for a blessed second before the pain started, reverberating through her nerves. The woman forgot how to move, let alone function as she writhed on the inside. It was enough of a miracle to survive a lightning strike, let alone avoid being hit with one. The fact she was still breathing had used up her portion of luck, the human’s skin roasting like a pig on a spit, smelling about the same too. The last things she recalled before slipping under were feeling hungry (she loved roasted pig) and apologizing to the few gods she knew for getting carried away, asking that she could live through this for a proper rematch.

Winner: Revion

Revion watches the aftermath of his battle has left him and his foe little more than overdone chicken. What he gets, he supposes, trying to draw upon that much elemental power. He wouldn't of had to if this crazy ass woman didn't come in sword swinging for no gods be damned apparent reason! But, as he watches her writhe in pain and sizzle, the elf realizes he may have over did it. He could have flew off as a hawk, or changed into a ram to traverse the rocky terrain far more easily than she ever could. And yes, it did not help that it was a woman. He clearly saw she wasn't weak by any means, but he holds women in high regard and thus feels a bit like s***e having roasted her, however well deserved it may have been. The amulet upon his neck glows white hot, but the star jewel upon it glows in unison with the cresent moon charm. Even as taxed as he was, the amulet will allow his to draw upon enough magical energy to not only mend his own wounds enough for travel, but also that of the woman across his way. He'd make sure he was first healed tho, in case she thinks this means round two. He'd had enough of that. So, instead of a direct heal that would allow he to spring up and begin her attack anew, the druid materializes a handful of berries, infused with the life saving energies that just recently revitalized him. Walking over and giving her sword a good kick off the cliff, the druid places the berries in her hand (as well as a few coin for the now lost sword) and says. "Eat these, they will heal you." The look in his eyes hopefully shows her he means he no harm, as if he wanted her dead right now it would be easily done. "I haven't the slightest clue why you'd attack, but know this, even though I offer you aid now, if you attack me, I will not hold back next time." A bluff he hoped he sold. He was a lucky buck to have cast that spell, and even luckier to have survived it. Either way, he continues on with. "Peace be with you, stranger. I hope you find a way to deal with whatever devils ail you so." And with that, the druid would take his leave before the woman could regain enough strength to try to attack him.