Duel:Mathollak v Kang, Match 10 of the 2023 Titans of Winter Tournament
Duelists: Mathollak vs Kang Duel: Traditional 3 rounds with final defense, 20 minute posting limit. Stakes: Standard, autohit delivered by winner with allowance for final reply. Judges: Meri and Quintessa.
Sage’s Archery Range
Meri :: Much like the previous duel that was held here at the archery range, a number of wooden benches have been set up along the perimeter so that spectators can watch in relative comfort and from a safe distance. The area between spectators and duelists is separated by rope and the understanding that it is against the rules for the audience to try and interfere from the duel. Both Meri and Magikrios can be found sitting on those very same benches, except that they are not seated in the exact spot that they were last time. Fleur and Mirshann are both with them too! There is one notable difference about the arena today, a levitating platform has been set up at the center of the archery range with a set of stairs so that the duelists can easily come to stand upon this platform. It should be noted that the platform is covered in about a foot of snow. Once it seems like the crowd has trickled in and after Magikrios has been informed that both duelists are present, the very tall elf stands to make the obligatory announcements. His black, fiery gaze sweeps across the crowd as he declares, “Fighting today we have Kang, the last Preklek, against Mathollak, the axe of love.” ooc: Will both duelists please post their entrance posts.
Mathollak is not apparently present at the start, as has been somewhat typical of him. Part of his entourage -is- here however. Scattered throughout the spectators, their identities hidden by their hoods. If one would bother to take the time, they might notice that they were spaced intentionally to form a circle, a wide circle with its center in the fighting arena. And they’ve begun to chant. Lowly at first, far below the din of the gathered crowd, but their words seem to ring beyond the space that they occupy. The words in their strange language soon become louder and louder, but there words seem to be coming from a small ember star that’s begun to form in the fighting pit. As the circle grows, so do the mysterious words, until they reach a cacophony. A portal opens, accompanied by sweet smelling smoke and a pool of molten liquid. Suddenly it explodes! Like a firework, it bursts, casting harmless sparks in a blooming pattern that’s over far too soon. Mathollak falls from this portal as all that’s left of it dissipates and touches down to the grassy floor. He rises exultantly. The crowd roars in approval once they understand what’s transpired, or even if they don’t understand, they see the man they were waiting for. “My loves! I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long!?” He raises a pewter goblet to them and sticks his axe into the ground, wedging it so the handle remains conveniently upright and within his reach.
Mathollak is hardly armored at all this time. In fact, he’s hardly clothed at all. His legs are bare down to his leather boots that rise halfway up to his calf. Spiked mithril shinguards rise a bit further, coming to a point just over his knee. His bare thighs glisten, shaded only occasionally by some woven leather tassels that hang from a leather loin cloth, and the coiled chain cinched to the belt by a buckle, and perhaps concealing a shiny surprise at the end of it today. Above that is his gold plated shimmering belt of freedom, half of the prize for winning a tournament in Larket and enchanted to give him “the strength to break any chains” (giant’s strength)! Above the belt, his scar-striped torso seems to glow from a light just under his skin, a sign of his goddess’s favor no doubt. Only a single buckled strap mars the beauty of it, but it’s necessary to hold the single pauldron covering his right shoulder in place. And there, a cloak made of humbata fur hangs freely, the hooking talons of the great beast dragging on the floor. His arms and hands are strapped with leather up to the palms, while freeing his fingers. But strategically placed mithril plates ward his elbows and forearms. Finally, he lifts his axe out of the ground and rests it on his shoulder. It’s a massive thing shaped like a dane axe, but the heavy stone head is cracked, and all of it his heavily enchanted to magically shatter not just flesh and bone, but wood and stone.
Kang :: Faint disembodied murmuring wafts into the area, growing in volume, seemingly from nowhere. A waft of chill air carrying embers that give off no heat at all signals the entrance of Kang, he calmly steps into the area humming under his breath. His staff melts away into his hand as he dispels the disguise, revealing dark mithril armor smudged by the ever-swirling ashes of the unruly chaos elemental. Several yards behind him, a panicked goblin races to whisper something into his ear. Kang releases a few choice words in Chthonic, upsetting the chaos elemental and causing small wounds to open on both his and the goblin's faces. "We need to hire a farmer. This can't keep happening." He hands over the shape-shifting staff and tells the goblin to figure it out. The goblin looks confused, but heads back to deal with the issue. Kang now appears to be weaponless, though very well armored. "This isn't ideal. . ." he mutters. The chaos elemental collects itself, a little too literally (and forcefully). It glows brighter than ever before and melts Kang's armor, transforming it into something a little different. The preklek looks himself over. Business suit, glistening green top hat, sweet sweet dragonscale duster, and to top it all off a sealed envelope drifts down into his hands. He reads it quickly. "I see," Kang says eyeing his opponent. "Someone doesn't like you. At all."
Meri :: Once both of the duelists have made their way onto the levitating disc, Magikrios produces a snowglobe from….don’t you even worry about where. For those close enough to see, the inside of the globe is a miniature representation of a snow-covered archery range. This very archery range in fact! The moment the globe is revealed, an unseen barrier forms around the two combatants, trapping the two of them inside of what is now a very over-sized snow globe. Magikrios marks the start of this duel very similarly to the last, the crowd and duelists will hear him state, “Begin.” Except this time, the moment that word is uttered Magikrios gives the snowglobe in his hand a little shake and the floating platform that the two fighters are trapped on responds accordingly. It begins to tetter violently this way in that, with enough force that the foot of snow that was laying calm atop the platform is now tossed around creating a makeshift blizzard that will settle…eventually…depending on what Magikrios wants to give his little toy a shake. At some point during the duel, things get particularly bad for the two trapped inside of the globe. Why? Well, Fleur eventually realizes that every time Magikrios shakes that globe…things go awry. And that is just the best. She wants to try it. And Magikrios’ response is to rile his step-daughter up. The two have a small and playful little bicker session over who gets to do the shaking and when to shake. While Meri thinks it is quite amusing, surely the duelists do not.
Round One
Mathollak receives Kang’s warning with a quirked eyebrow followed by a violent-seeming smile. “Here’s to them,” he says, raising the pewter goblet he held in his hand, and then what was once empty is now filled. A cold grey cup glows and even begins to droop with the heat of whatever hellish concoction fills it, and he empties it once more into his mouth. Suddenly, the entire platform they stand on starts violently shaking and a sudden blizzard overtakes the place, as violent as the very earth beneath their feet. Mathollak is lucky to snatch his planted axe a jiffy before he’s bounced up into the air. By the time he lands again, the change has already taken place. Both of his arms are altered from tanned human flesh to a monstrous maroon colored hide. His fingers end in hardened and grotesque claws. He finds his footing in a moment, and scans the area, squinting through the blizzard to find his opponent. He does. He stretches an elongated arm to the floor, driving his abominable claws into the floor and rending it toward his opponent. Miraculously, the scars seem to gouge the floor far beyond where the wicked nails touched, carving three deep fissures that reach toward Kang. Black billowing smoke plumes from them, flecked with worming slivers of fire that seem to seek the eyes and nose and mouth. The ground tumbles again, but this time Mathollak’s ready. He pushes off the floor in time with the quake, angling himself in a low arc toward where Kang is hopefully in a blinded fit due to the Dark Mother’s smoke. He’s arcing toward Kang like a spear, heavy axe cocked behind him, until the moment just before he would crash into him. Then he swings the massive thing in a wide crescent arc meant to divide Kang at the waist.
Kang isn’t phased in the slightest by the sudden tempestuous movements of the ground. The continued disembodied muttering from the ashes of the chaos elemental are beginning to worry him. He’s beginning to discern a few words, and they aren’t in the common tongue. Apparently his constant use of foul language has helped the Chaos realm to learn something it shouldn’t. His armor begins to smoke as he leans into the movements of the platform. The sudden jerks that launch him into the air are something he is very familiar with, even in fancy business attire. A conference room is still a field of combat. Mid-air, he tries to put a finger to his lips to hush the elemental whispers. Kang seems to be completely ignoring his opponent in favor of reigning in the elemental. “Kitty, stop!!” Instead of heeding him, the “bad kitty” commandeers Mathollak’s flame slivers and expands on them reforming them into fiery tentacles that latch onto Delisha’s chosen. He may have the favor of one divine, but not Cire. Indeed, the chaos lady seems to have a growing interest in Kang’s disruptiveness. At least the kitty does. The swirling snow strikes Kang, the chaos energies melting and igniting the flakes at random, highlighting the preklek for all to see. He covers his ears to drown out the dark whispers, and shouts in Chthonic, “Shut Up!!” The discordant sibilants tear through the blizzard and rip outward destroying everything not properly shielded. The chaos elemental only giggles and echoes the words, almost chanting, adding another elemental hazard. The runes on Kang’s ankle glow, revealing hitherto-unknown cracks and invisible runes of corruption. The kitty had been naughty indeed. Mathollak’s discarded portal begins glowing in response to the runes and chaotic chanting.
Round Two
Mathollak is certainly confused by what he’s seeing; none have ever commandeered his beloved’s power before. It was a humbling moment, but one that would pass. As the burning tendrils latch onto his wild careening body, his momentum his drastically slowed. He weathers the searing lash and commits to commandeering her powers right back, freeing one hand first, and using it to sever the connections that still entangle him. But not just sever; he loops them around one of his grotesque claws and holds them as they sizzle, trusting in the monstrous hide that covers his arms. The least they do is dull his pain. Doing this, he drops to the ground, in time to receive a cacophonous blow of sound from Kang. Perhaps by instinct, a red glowing aura, seen earlier glowing beneath his flesh, evaporates outward and seems to solidify into chitinous protrusions to ward against the blast. He’s knocked backwards on his heels, but before he loses himself completely and falls back, he slams his axe into the floor and presses into it, even as the bony spikes made in defense crumble and wither, and his flesh begins to burn away into muscle. In this time, the fiery tendrils have grown taut, and whether or not they snap, Mathollak is going to whirl them around his head like a flail with the might of giants, before spinning it back toward Kang. The elemental seems too caught up in the discord to release itself of its newfound arms, and goes for a ride, possibly crashing directly into Kang catastrophically.
Kang is knocked unceremoniously, but quite effectively back to the present by the collision of Mathollak’s flail with his body. Kang flies back into the border of their arena with a loud thwack. Blood trickles from his mouth and he wheezes. He cannot break focus now. “Definitely not ideal.” He glances at the portal quickly before calculating how much time he has before it goes nuclear, for lack of a better term. The chaos elemental fights for control of its native element with Mathollak. Flames are a fire elemental’s purview! It’s a losing battle, on the elemental’s side, for sure, especially with it splitting its focus. Kang brushes himself off and straightens his jacket. “Now, I believe we had business to discuss.” He holds out the envelope and as the platform launches him again into the frigid tempest, he uses the envelope as a shuriken and launches it at his opponent. Despite the innocuous appearance, it glows with sinister light as it arcs toward the target. It has a mission. Kang angles to the darkening portal and ominous chanting, hoping to close it before. . .nope. A eldritch tentacle arcs out and barely misses the preklek, Kang kicks it toward Mathollak, and it flails blindly seeking prey, a foothold, anything to destroy or pull itself through.
Round Three
Mathollak bares his teeth in a wicked grin as the elemental crashes into his quarry, and he relinquishes his grip on the elemental, more or less on purpose. The grooves burnt into his hands seem to preclude any type of muscle movements from his fingers though, and he might not be able to hold anything with them if he wanted to. It functions fine enough as a shield however, and he uses it to deflect the strange glowing envelope. He interposes it quickly before his chest and inadvertently catches it, despite having no use of his fingers. The corner of it sticks to the back of his mutated hand with a dull thwack, and lingers there. There’s no time to discern the meaning of it (not that he would, this was no time for reading), because a creature from the mysterious beyond has usurped his old portal for its own ends it seems. No problem he’ll just lop it into a nub with his axe. He lifts the weapon over his head with his one hand, no mean feat for a mere man, but with giant-monstrous strength, he can. Then the arena shakes, stumbling him, knocking him into the air where the tentacle catches him. He still swings his axe into it, but with no leverage, it merely gets stuck in the meat. It brings him up, then brings him down into the levitating disc. Again for good measure, before dragging him back into the portal. He’s gone. Seconds pass in the quietude. Magik and Fleur even forgot to bicker and the whole arena seems to grow quiet. But the portal remains open. Mathollak’s chain, tipped at the end by his divine cleaver, erupts through the portal and lodges itself deeply into the ground, stretched to its max. A moment later, a mass of undulating tentacles comes bursting through the portal the same way it just left from. A massive thing, writhing and shrieking, collapsing onto the area and toward where Kang had just been. Mathollak follows it, yanking on his own chain and propelling himself once more toward where Kang had just been. Though he seems less focused on winning the match and more intent to see what was going to follow him through the portal. It was angry now.
Kang sees his opponent get dragged into the beyond. Is that it? The sudden re-emergence of Delisha’s chosen is a strangely welcome sight, despite the circumstances. Feeding those things makes them stronger. Using the short rest to restore his senses and the top hat that had tilted in the altercation, blizzard, quaking, and tentacular discourse, Kang also regains control of his elemental companion with a curt, authoritative snap of his fingers. “Top hats are not helpful,” he chastises the bodiless mass of sparks, smoke and ash. The preklek flips the hat inside out, despite it being mithril revealing its true nature. With great pleasure and no small amount of gravitas he places the Crimson Bowler upon his brow with a smirk. “Much better.” His gaze goes to the portal again, noticing a familiar gash. “Still not ideal. For certain.” He directs the elemental to singe specific tentacles and smudge runes. Now that he knows the specific spawn of Chthulhu that was emerging he could seal it away. . .for a short while. The outstretched tentacles jerk back, though the same could not be said of Mathollak. Kang extends his claws for the first time this combat and engages Mathollak in melee range. The tussle ensues where a very well-dressed preklek uses his centuries of combat training to hold a shirtless barbarian at bay long enough for his elemental to close off K’vlarin. As it flickers closed, Kang sweeps the leg to knock Mathollak backwards into the closing abyss. Of course, Kang then launches himself backwards in response to the expected counter.
Final Defense
Mathollak is momentarily enthralled by the abyss, but only for the brief moment that his attention-span allows him to stare at nothing. Which is good that it was so short, because Kang wasn’t finished with him. Finally, they engage in hand-to-hand combat! Unfortunately, Mathollak is somewhat battered and raw from his experience, and his main tactics are toward avoidance until. He interposes his maimed claw, now wrapped around several times by his chain, to intercept Kang’s extended ones, and pulls it back bloody to intercept the next. He ducks a few blows, and catches some claws across his chest. He’s just not quick enough, battling a slight limp that’s become apparent now. Kang takes advantage, kicking out his one good leg. There’s also a kind of gravity well pulling him toward the portal as it closes, and as he drops to his knee, he plunges his claw into the floor again to avoid seeing the things he just saw. It’s no use however, as Fleur or Magik, have gotten tired of all this level ground stuff. Or maybe they just wanted to see Mathollak go bye-bye again, because they give the globe a shake, and he’s send flying butt over tea kettle backwards toward the portal again. It’s the piecemaker that saves him, still lodged into some part of the beast’s dismembered tentacles and piled high. He’s able to grab hold of it, legs fluttering behind him. The entire mass of calamari begins sliding towards the abyss as the doorway shrinks and shrinks, the force of it seeming to grow stronger as it does. Even the blizzarding snow is drawn in, until they have clear skies. Finally, the portal winks out of existence, and Mathollak falls into the mass of tentacles with a squelch.
Winner: Mathollak
Auto Hit:
Mathollak hasn’t forgotten what he’s seen, or that Kang just tried to make him see it again! After a few more than enough moments for the dismembered tentacles to finally die, they continue to flip and flap to and fro for some time. In fact, they even seem to come even more to life! Then they explode in a fountain of otherworldly viscera that splatters purples and blues and blorples to the ‘window’ of the globe, and not leaving Kang’s face clear of the splat either. The cause of the fountain is clear. Mathollak bursts from the mess pulling himself out of it using his one good leg and one good arm, snatching his axe out of the pile as he flings himself toward Kang. In the surprise and ick of it, he’s unable to deter the hammer half of the piecemaker’s stone head, and it catches him dead in the chest. He goes down, and Mathollak doesn’t let up. He stands over him, one boot planted across his wrist, pinning his chest down with the hammer. He lifts his maimed claw over head like a club, and hammers it down, menacingly to the side of Kang’s head. Victory is clear, and Mathollak knows it, and also wants him awake so he can ask in hushed tones, “What -was- that thing?”
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