Duel:Mahri v Rhocielle
Mahri vs Rhocielle
- Judges: Tiphareth, Thea, Svilfon
- Stakes: 10,000 Gold
- Rd/time: 3/15
- Location: Trist'oth Arena UFC
- Decision: Rhocielle, unanimous
Setup Post:
Tiphareth makes his way upward back to the VIP area in which he generally spends the duration of these events. Turning back to face the venue below, the Eldermage motions to a number of Drow waiting in the wings. Upon completion of this motion, the massive arcane veil drops into place to protect the crowd from any errant attacks within the arena. The mage's favored implement is pointed toward the arena floor as he proceeds with a series of incantations and manipulations that initiate a most dire situation within the battle area. Silver spikes some 10 feet in length suddenly begin jutting randomly from the floor, remaining for but a moment before they descend back into the stone and reemerge some distance away. With increasing speed and quantity, the apparently random appearance of these deadly pikes makes any maneuvering within the arena quite the tricky prospect for any who might be trapped within the war tested venue. "Let the Battle Begin!"
Rhocielle , at the signal, simply looked at Mahri and took a vial from his bandoliers, drinking its contents. It might have seemed that the wolfen male chose to take a swig of liquid courage before confronting the female Lycan. To any that had faced the woman before might not blame him for such a choice. Blade in hand, he approached her with swift, if cautious strides. With silver spikes propping up throughout the floor like a macabre twist of Whack-a-Mole, full charging would only be a sure death sentence. The sword was unsheathed, smoking tendrils fluttering from within the sheath itself as if the weapon were red hot to the touch. He decided to demonstrate the weapon's worth with a wild swing in Mahri's general direction. Too far away for the actual slice through the air to be a threat to her, it might catch the woman off guard as an abrupt wave of flames courses along in a straight line towards her. As he watched the attack surge forward, he winced sharply as the tipped end of a silver spike scratched at the side of his uncovered clawed foot. The rest of its length merely shoved the wolf away. Already the sting of it the silver caused the injured foot to burn with increasing pain. The spikes had blossomed before him before only to disappear just as quickly. A brief flash of horror in his eyes. Had he taken one more step, he surely would have been impaled. "Mahri!" he shouted in warning, "Its silver!" He cursed himself slightly. An injured foot meant limited mobility. Rhocielle drank a Fire-breath elixir.
Mahri had already noticed the spikes and try as she might to time them, it was nigh on impossible. And that is probably what saved her from getting singed by the swords burst of flame. "No, shyte!" she hollars back, sparing a moment to glare at Rho. "Bloody hell!" The distraction was enough to take her attention from the next round of spike upthrusts. The sharp point scoring a slice up her back. That'll scar. Another among many. Driving the screaming pain from her mind, the lycan kicks up dust in the race towards the pile of goodies and she grabs the first thing her fingers close around. A mace? Used even. Her luck. Hefting the weight Mahri's not still for long. The more she moves, she's hoping, the less chance she has of being impaled like some luckless fish in a pond. Holding the weapon parallel to the ground the bludgeoning end gets raised when her momentum takes her within reach of the black. It's unfamiliar, this weapon but it'll have to do. Swinging it forward like a club, she'll aim for Rho's shoulder, the sword arm. She's hoping she'll hit hard enough to numb him, possibly make Rho drop that damned sword that belches fire. Connecting or not, Mahri'll pivot on her heel, firstly to avoid quick retaliation; secondly those damned spikes.
Mahri picked up 1 bloodied mace.
Rhocielle did not even bother hobbling to the woman as she rushed him. His foot caused enough pain as is without adding the strain that came from attempting to move it abruptly. Focusing most of his weight on one foot, he waited her charge. He might be strong enough to deflect a mace blow, given the noticeable lack of experience with the weapon Mahri expressed, but he did not. Instead the wolf dropped the weapon outright and raised his paw like hand. The palm open and clawed digits flexed, a bright blue light flashed at Mahri in hopes of causing temporary flash blindness while he rolled out of the way. A Healer's Light could be a weapon as well, one just had to know how to use it. It was fortunate for both that they had chosen to retreat following attack and counter. Another patch of spikes erupted between them. On his knees, an iron bucket and yo-yo caught his attention. Hoisting himself into an uneasy stance, both were collected. The string of the toy was hastily wrapped around the handle of the bucket, the yo-yo itself the handle. A makeshift weighted whip in hand, he limped his way around the spikes as they descended. It was swung in a wide arc, hoping to connect the metal bucket with her head even around the mace if she chose to use it for defense. As it flew, he drew in a sharp inhale of breath, chest puffing beneath black armor and bandoliers. It was not alcohol he had taken earlier, but something else entirely. A controlled burst of potion-produced flames was blown out of his mouth at the female Lycan.
Mahri stumbles, off balanced and temporarily blinded. Up comes a spike, piercing the toe of her boot and grazing a toe. Cursing a streak too dark to be called blue, the lycan blinks and rubs at her eyes. The leather of her glove irritates the lids but at least the after-images are fading. Dragging the mace along the ground, Mahri turns her head the second she hears the whistle of bucket through the air. In time to duck but not bring the unweildy thing up to block and certainly not low enough to avoid being singed by the new fire. The hell? She hadn't seen where it came from and as she backpeddled, Mahri trips over something. Glancing down, blinking rapidly everytime the bright after-image appears, she has to bark out a laugh. A toy sheild had brought the lycan down! Rolling with her free hand around the edge, Mahri comes to her feet and just sees the tip of a spike sink back under the sand. The child's toy will do as a disc and it's thrown like one as soon as vision clears well enough to aim. And aim she does. Right at Rho's head. Keeping on the move, her injured foot seeps blood that stains the sand, if one could tell it was fresh, causing her to slow considerably. Not to mention the burning ache in her back.
Rhocielle had only just gaped his maws again to blow out another burst of flames when his neck suddenly jerked back. Silver eyes widened as he gagged slightly. His canine mouth had inadvertently caught a disc, but he would not be calling Mahri master, nor was she playing a game of catch with him. Neck jerked and the toy was almost expertly flung, possibly striking Hanan or Jaeger, by accident of course. Either announcer might very well have the first frisbee in Hollow. The black furred male uttered a dark curse to himself as he saw the female Lycan limping away from him. She had been injured as well by the spikes. He needed to end this quickly before one or both them ended up as Tiphareth's new rugs. It was only speculation, but who knew what the Drow did with Lycans that were slain in the UFC. He chased after her as best he could as well, stopped after a few steps by another set of spikes as if he were in a jail. The iron bucket was swung again, this time aimed for the retreating long legs that Finn so enjoyed looking at. However, the handle was not kept in his paw. It was released fully, turning the makeshift whip into makeshift bolos Whether his aim were true or not, the Lycan male lunged at Mahri to attempt pinning her submissively. With a bed sheet laying nearby on the floor in the arena, the crowd might just see a pair of wolves literally rolling on and beneath the sheets.
Mahri is just getting her vision back when two things happen at once, or rather almost simultaniously. First, the bucket catches her left ankle. Startling a yelp of pain from the alpha bitch. The glare she turns to the male is turned to wide eyed disbelief. Was that a sheet coming at her!? It was, and the two are enveloped in it. Tangled in fabric and limbs, the insults and shouts that rise up within might turn a more innocent persons ears red. The sound of rending fabric doesn't come from the sheet however but within it. Boots split and leather pants are useless except for maybe as a hula skirt. The shirt's in tatters, too. Not that anyone gets more than a glimps of the black and white-pattern furred body that joins the other Anthro-wolf's. Within though, Rho'd have a damn good idea of what's coming next. Fingers turned long, bony and claw tipped swipe at a tender belly mid-roll. The rolling though, might be a good thing as spikes continue their cycle of rising and falling. Now if the sheet doesn't just get caught on one of them, the two just might be well on their way to a pleasantly maimed ending. Assuming of course Rho isn't left with deep gashes in his midsection.
Rhocielle rolled violently with Mahri, though even the bed sheets were not spared by the end of it. It was only a ribbon by the time the spikes had snagged a corner, leaving a pair of bloodied Lycans kicking and scrabbling at each other. For every slash at his body, the male Lycan returned one in kind, until spikes suddenly jutted so dangerously close to their lupine faces. Growling menacingly at the female, it was he who chose to disengage and shove himself away from her. Black fur on both of them obscured just how injured they were, but the puddles of blood as well as the bloodied remains of the sheet might have been a clear indication. Panting ragged, looked around for the next thing he might use. Maybe that ball of twine would be useful in tying her up. Bed sheets, rope, alcohol. What was Thea thinking?
Autohit Rd:
Rhocielle went with the idea of the rope, so to speak. With bloodied sheet ribbons in paws, he approached the equally bloodied Lycan. So many injuries on both, it was amazing that the male could still stand, let alone walk. This worked in his favor as Mahri might be too wounded to offer much resistance as her ankles and wrists were bound swiftly. "You can run after I've finished healing you…" By no means was he one to simply strike someone already defeated. Bound Lycan was lifted squarely over one shoulder and carried her off.
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