Duel:Mesdoram v Alex, Match 5 of the 2023 Titans of Winter Tournament
Duelists: Mesdoram vs Alex Duel: Traditional 3 rounds with final defense, 20 minute posting limit. Stakes: Standard, autohit delivered by winner with allowance for final reply. Judges: Meri, Quintessa, and Valrae.
Grand Cenrili Arena
Fully restored, this grand Arena appears to be the focal point of Cenrili entertainment. Marble Columns and arches awe and amaze your eyes as you enter through one of the two large archways, iron gates are swung open on either side permitting entry. Your eyes fall on some of the ancient stone seats that have been lined with soft material in specially sealed off areas for the well off.
Valrae || As the Mayor stood, there was a commotion from either side of the arena. Valrae glided toward the railing of her box seats and raised a hand for the music and crowd to hush. “Welcome to the fifth match of the Titans of Winter!” Her voice called clear above the lowered noise. Because she knew it would rise again, she waited as the newest challenge was brought in. In an almost mirrored fashion from the east and west, a group of mages appeared. They led two adult ice wyverns carefully into the arena, each larger than typical wyverns and glistened like ice as they stomped into the area. They were outfitted with black leather saddles and pressed against their muzzles in anticipation of being released. Once released, they would take to the skies following their riders command and unleash dangerous volleys of ice shards. “Tonight, we will witness Alex and Mesdoram test their battle skills on the backs of these wyverns.” The witch waited again for the roar of the crowd to die down. “Contestants, please take your mount. The rules are simple, remain inside the arena and try to remain seated. It might be an awfully far fall if you cannot.” Without any further fanfair, Valrae dropped her hand, “Begin.” Once the wyverns were released, the mages would set about quickly preparing a magical barrier that would shield the crowd from any stray ice shards or careless flying.
Alex enters the arena beneath the evening sky with a heavy black cloak shrouding his appearance, the hood taut around his head to hide from the daunting stares of the attending audience and his opponent while something off-white, almost yellow in color protrudes from the bottom of the garment. As he reaches his starting point, he pauses to count his breath from one to four and back again to calm his nerves before reaching up to the hood. As his hand is extended it almost looks as if he's wearing gloves but instead his skin has been brushed black and decorated with ash scattered about in intricate detail to mimic his bone structure. As he pulls down his hood, his face is covered in the same paint as he glares to Mesdoram in the form of a living skull with his long black locks pulled back and held in place by bone clips. A devlish grin is flashed to reveal his ink stained teeth both pitch black and red as blood seems to fall from the edges of his lips. Despite his experience, Alex always found himself fighting anxiety before every show, and this one would be no different - particularly with the thunderous roars of bloodlust that echoed the arena. The bard calms his breathing and readies himself for the battle to come.
Mesdoram is tired. Not from lack of sleep nor the fatigue of an epic night of debauchery. No… the False Drow’s weariness comes from the mental exhaustion coming from his new lease on life – his forgiveness tour seeming causing more stress than he had first intended. Striding in haphazardly, the man’s uncovered face dawns the same stoicism many in the crowd have grown accustomed to; however, his eyes display wavering uncertainty and concern for the task as hand: his first battle since being reborn. Already drawn in his left hand is his famous Earthly Elemental brand where he hopes will give the edge today (his twin elemental dirks given back to Hawkeye for the time being). Mesdoram barely stares at Alex before searching through the crowd of eager spectators… and sighs heavily. “Even in my path of redemption… I’ve never felt so alone.” The man musters as he sees no Hawkeye nor any other friend… nor his brother for obvious reasons. Brushing aside these mental distractions, he does return his gaze back to his opponent for the evening and graciously nods at Alex. “Ready when you are, sir.” Wavy snow white hair flows freely and eventually drape over his enchanted piwafwi and ebony chain-mail – itching and ready for the contest to commence.
Round One
Alex seems relieved at the sight of his opponent as the drow much less... 'frustrating' than the Delisha-fueled freakshow that eliminated him from the previous tournament. However, his relief is short lived as the mayor's words catch up with his processing mind and the sight of the Wyverns suddenly causes his stomach to churn as he curses beneath his breath. His battle plan is seemingly thrown out the window by the unexpected addition, but as they say, the show must go on. He gives a brief nod of understanding and respect to his opponent before turning to make his way to the wyvern. It takes every ounce of self-control to not appear utterly terrified as he lines up by the beast and hoists himself onto the saddle. He takes a moment to adjust whatever he carries on his back so that he can sit comfortably and then a wave of nausea strikes as the creature begins its ascent. It's at this time that Alex realizes something quite challenging... he's never flown on a Wyvern, much less commanded one, and so his eyes dart around frantically as he attempts to locate any type of 'control' apart from the small strap held out in front of him. Finding none, the bard quickly defaults to controlling living creatures the only way he knows how... he places his bare palms onto the back of the Wyvern and begins to hum softly which causes a steady mist of blue to illuminate and fall from his eyes. He feels a sense of calm wash over him as he connects with the beast and their emotions intertwine, the wyverns confidence inspiring Alex's own. The undead looking man mutters a single word towards his new companion, "Kill." The wyvern releases a piercing shriek as it lurches forward and accelerates towards Mesdoram. The force of the wind pushing against the bard causing him to dig his nails deep into the saddle as he grits his teeth so hard they nearly crack. As they approach, an overwhelming chill runs down the sides of Alex's arms as a large shard of shimmering ice is conjured in the maw of his mount before being fired with extreme velocity towards the enemy wyvern's neck, followed by another that aims for its left wing, before preemptively rolling to the side in an effort to dodge any return fire.
Mesdoram blinks several times at the magnificent wyverns are escorted into the arena by an entourage of animal handling mages; as Valrae explains that both Alex and Mesdoram are to saddle up and command these wild animals, a simultaneous stare from both rider and winged beast is shared. Squinting his eyes his luxurious ride for the evening, the False Drow swiftly sprints toward his designated wyvern, acrobatically pushes off the black saddle’s stirrups, and maneuvers himself to grip the reigns with his right hand to command his mount. As Mesdoram gets completely comfortable inside his straddle, he proudly and overconfidently thrusts his Earthly Elemental sword straight ahead of him into the sky. “UPWARDS AND UNWARDS, FOUL ICE BEAST!!” But… there is a fundamental problem with Mes’ battle tactics: he is facing the wrong way; yet, ever so obedient, the winged creature lets loose a fearsome roar matching the intensity of his brother wyvern and thrusts the pair upwards. Taking only 2 powerful flaps, both Mesdoram and his animal fly majestically through the Grand Arena; despite being dragged behind like a parasail, you got to admit Mesdoram looks incredibly amazing as a kite. “NO! THE OTHER WAY!” Mesdoram frantically shouts as he begins pulling himself back onto his mount like he was climbing a rope in gym class; as he finally manages to find himself back onto his wyvern, an angry False Drow bats the dragon-like welp on the head with the hilt of his brand. “NOW LOOK HERE, YOU FO –“ But it is the combination of the traumatic blow and the large shard of ice barreling toward Mesdoram that causes his wyvern to do a barrel roll in the air! The ice missile passes miraculously under the belly of the beast, but the unexpected evasive action causes the False Drow to lose the grip of his Earthly Brand… sending Mesdoram into a blind fury as he regains his equilibrium. “ALRIGHT ALEX!! YOU WANT TO DO THIS?! LET’S PLAY SOME CHICKEN!” Regaining the riding straps with both hands this time, Mesdoram kicks the sides of his mount like a horse to giddy-up, and commands the beast to collide with Alex’s wynern! Picking up great speed and closing in fast, Mesdoram intents to ram Alex off his mount and end this battle prematurely… for even if his attack fails, no doubt the spectators will applaud his brilliant battle strategy upto this point.
Round Two
Alex doesn't seem amused by the unfortunate turn of events for Mesdoram and that is likely due to the fact that his head has been held so close to the saddle since he took off that he missed it completely. The initial projectile skims passed the underside of his opponents mount and crashes into the mystic barrier summoned by the mages directly in front of Jaxson and Lita while the other falls short and collides with the arena floor, exploding upon impact. Relying on the shared confidence with his wyvern, Alex forces himself to lean up and see if his attack was successful but to his surprise, he sees, well, nothing. He quickly swivels to look over his shoulder and spots the drow recovering from his own evasion and suddenly deciding to use himself as the next projectile. Thinking quickly, Alex slams his palm onto the wyverns' scales and hums again, causing the beast to turn one-hundred and eighty degrees and match the tactic employed by their foe. As the distance between the two draconian creatures rapidly closes, Alex whispers and apology before thrusting his full weight to the side causing him to dismount in mid-air and begin free falling towards the arena's floor. As he falls, he rapidly unlatches the clip holding his clock in place allowing it to detach and flutter off behind him. With his head aimed directly at the ground it seems as if suicide has suddenly become the game plan for the troubled man but instead a deafening screech that puts the wyverns own to shame suddenly rings out from Cenril to Rynvale. Alex's mouth is opened wide, and the soundwaves emitting from his throat are so powerful that they are visible to the naked eye as dust and dirt erupt from the floor to fill the arena. The push back from his own voice slowing his descent to that of a feather allows him to correct his posture and touch down without so much as an aching knee or twisted ankle. Despite the pride he feels from the maneuver, he fights the inner urge to bow to the audience and instead reaches for the object hidden behind his back. A single chain strap is draped across Alex's torso, which itself is covered in bonemail and painted emblems of Gerthaog and Gamorg, and he grips what appears to be a protruding bone from his back and pulls it forward. Upon closer inspection, the object is clearly an instrument, a magnificent four stringed bass carved out of ogre bones which oddly seems to be completely solid with no hollow insides for acoustics. Sliding his left foot forward, the bard takes a power stance and turns his head towards the sky as his fingers begin dancing on the strings of the bass with furious fret work. The heavy thumps of the instruments seem to quake the arena with their vibration as the now familiar blue mist continues to rain from the bards' eyes and he focuses on his enemy with hopes that their mounts would collide and send him tumbling towards the earth with fatal force. But Alex opts to take no chances and as he plays his instrument is seems the force caused by the heavy boom accumulates in powerful shockwaves around him until he aims the neck to face towards Mesdoram and slaps at the strings with such fury that a powerful canon like boom erupts from the head and seeks to knock the drow even further away with the force of a heavy club, or to deflect any falling creatures.
Mesdoram is flying with incredible velocity in his kamikaze attack that the sheer force of impact sends both beast into a free fall. Not able to control his avian beast, Mesdoram holds on for dear life as he is flung towards to magical barrier protecting all the spectators from his stupidity – a very strong magic spell indeed, Val. Lingering at bit, the False Drow overhears one of the men criticize his battle tactics. “I am not a goober, sir! I am a combat veteran in –“ But it is then in the middle of his epic rant the bone-shrieking concert from Alex begins piercing through Mesdoram’s fragile eardrums causing him to release the aura barrier – free falling downwards the bard. Each piercing note, each nasty whip of his tongue causing internal hemorrhaging as the capillaries in the man’s face begin exploding and forcing blood out of his ears. “Curse you, bard!” Mesdoram shouts as Alex’s musical masterpiece propels him up and down like a cat playing with it’s prey before feasting. All seems lost for the spell blade as he gyrates 20 feet above Alex… until his wyvern mount swoops in and hovers just inbetween the two combatants creating a buffer protecting Mesdoram. Collapsing back onto his saddle as Alex furiously bangs away on his instrument, the False Drow conjures his retort to the very talented musician. “… 6 out of 10 at best, dude.” The unflattering critique may not have been heard though through the deafening waves of acoustics pummeling both Mesdoram and his mount. With Alex’s performance crescendoing and distancing Mesdoram even farther, Mesdoram regains the riding straps and maneuvers the beast out of the direct path of Alex’s vocals. “Alright my friend, let’s give them an encore!” With that said, Mesdoram begins vigorously clapping his hands so fast and so intensively, the wyvern wants in on this action! Flapping his wings to mimic his Mesdoram’s tempo, the composers begin creating a massive torrent of winds and gusts swirling around Alex’s feet! With enough luck and power from the two enthusiasts, of or more of these powerful flurries will fling Alex’s instruments straight to the northern wall… along with a splattered Alex hopefully.
Round Three
Alex can't help the massive grin that spreads across his face as his plan comes together and he catches himself juggling the drow above him with his aptly named "bass cannon". His calloused fingers continue slamming against the thick strings happily as his eyes glow brighter and brighter with every pulse launched from the head of the instrument. But his amusement quickly comes to a close as Mesdoram's wyvern comes back to serve as his savior, the scene honestly looking like something from a painting seen in a children's fantasy novel! It was impossible to see what Mesdoram was doing atop of the mount but the bard continued slapping his bass in hopes of throwing the beast off balance. But he suddenly begins to feel lighter and before he's able to process what's happening, Alex is flying across the arena with no time to correct course as he did during his free fall. He collides with the north side barrier, and he collides -hard-. His left shoulder makes contact first and the crunching pop he hears sounds similar to a tree falling inside his own skull before he falls the remaining distance to the arena floor with a heavy thud that knocks the wind clean out of him. The thought of a massive ice shard piercing his heart encourages the man to struggle to his feet and while his bass seems to be relatively unharmed, he finds the damage done to his frail human body much more troubling when he fails to move his left arm back to the neck. It's impossible to inspect the damage completely, but it's clear that his shoulder is separated since he has no control of the limb and based on the sight of a very real snapped bone protruding out of his left forearm, putting the ash art to shame, it's quite clear that he is incapable of continuing his current tactic. He uses his right hand to unclip the chain strap allowing the bass to fall to the floor with a loud ring. He looks towards his opponent and opens his mouth to scream, but he still hasn't caught his breath from the impact and nothing comes out. The pain from his injuries causes his vision to become fuzzy and he's quite disoriented so Alex simply staggers out into the arena, unwilling to concede despite his horrific injury. His plan had worked and now? Well, he didn't have a plan at all. Something approaches him quickly and he expects the heavy slam of ice to finish the job and closes his eyes to accept his fate, but instead, he suddenly finds himself weightless once more. Daring to sneak a peek, the bard finds his own Wyvern clutching his shoulders and carrying him through the air towards Mesdoram. Despite the initial shock that the creature would return to help him after abandoning it mid-flight, he quickly suspects the emotional melody that bonded them was still intact. Grabbing the creatures' foot with his good hand, Alex hums, quite poorly, to communicate direction for the beast as they ascend slightly higher above their foes and accelerate. The distance closes quickly once more and as the duo get ready to cross over their opponents' heads, the wyvern releases its grip, sending Alex rocketing towards Mesdoram with an extended leg to try and kick him off of his mount to the floor below.
Mesdoram lets loose a miniature sigh as the maelstrom assault ends that accursed sung bombarding him and his pet of beautiful and deadly musical prowess. “I’M JUST GLAD THAT IS OVER, MY FRIEND!” Having the worst case of tinnitus in both his ears, Mesdoram is having trouble controlling the volume of his voice. The False Drow’s biggest folly may come soon as he completely stretches outward onto his back as overconfidence seeps into his countenance. “DID YOU HEAR HIM GO SPLAT!?” Having his fair share of bone shattering injuries himself, Mesdoram is completely sure that a puny human bard man with sweet wicked locks couldn’t possibly survive that devastating duet performed by Mes and his Wyvern; the two newfound friends hover without a care in the world until Mesdoram notices the opposing draconian start taking high off until the sky – alarm bells begin ringing inside Mesdoram’s head. “If it uses sky attack, it might be quite effective to the Underdark type… wait… that’s me?!” As if a fire was lit under his arse, the False Drow powerfully pounces onto his feet and meticiously prepares for his cunning defense of ‘unaccompanied’ wyvern. “Coming to avenge your master, eh? Well try this on for size your scaly… huh?” With the high probability of being severely concussed, Mesdoram looks down to where his Earthly Brand should be! Then it hits him. “Oh that’s right, I dropped it when –“ Then it hits him again… literally. Alex’s bravado and cunning scheme to upend Mesdoram off his flying beast is a smashing success. The bard’s foot is firmly placed between the False Drow’s spleen and colon and drives Mesdoram into the barrier once more… sounds of air leaving his lungs accompanied by the thuds of chainmail and battle boots resisting against the magic resound the arena as Mes comically slides downward into the cold arena ground. Humiliated… hurt… and in dire need of some diapers, Mesdoram reaches around and finds an old familiar friend: his Earthly Elemental brand near the tip of his right fingers. “So… you like music too, eh Alex.” Gripping the blade like a conductor’s stick, Mesdoram uses what strength he has left and points the weapon skyward. “Well, try playing in the stars!! I hear the weather’s great, but has no atmosphere!!” Upon seeing his master’s weapon pointed sky high, Mesdoram’s dragon companion instinctually skyrockets into the air with enormous velocity! If somehow Alex were in the flight path of this massive beast, the creature would attempt one of 2 things with the human bard: Either smashing Alex into smithereens, or drag Alex to the magical barrier’s summit and beyond… whatever one makes a better acoustic sound.
Final Defense:
Alex feels the weight of his target smashing against his boot as his surprise attack surprisingly connects! The force of the blow slows his momentum and leaves grabbing at the saddle of the opposing Wyvern to keep himself from falling. The satisfaction he feels is immense as Mesdoram flies towards the wall and collides with it yet again and the bard can't help but hope that he won't be the only one with exposed bones by the end of this. But there's little time for celebration as the makeshift maestro below begins waving his blade about, instructing Alex's temporary couch to turn on him by flipping the bard off of his back and grabbing hold of his shoulders before thrusting down towards the earth. As their eyes lock, the bard can't help but feel sorrow for the act of violence he is about to commit, but with no time to cast another emotional melody, his self-preservation prevails just as he finds the air filling his lungs once more. There would be no time for apologies this time around. Inhaling deeply and focusing on the burning and throbbing pain in his left arm Alex opens his dyed black mouth and screams once again, just as loud as he did during his initial descent, but this time he sustains the cry and directs it towards the wyverns' visage with unrelenting force. The soundwaves pierce the beasts ears and its pain is visible to everyone as it cries out and shutters violently as blood begins to form in its eyes before it goes limp. Alex doesn't break his scream and instead turns his head to direct the force towards the creatures' wing giving it the momentum needed to rotate as he holds on for dear life and puts the wyverns body between him and the ground right before they hit the ground causing another massive cloud of dust and dirt to fill the arena.
Winner: Mesdoram
Auto Hit:
Mesdoram’s breathing becomes a bit more regular as he staggers to his feet… the toll of the battle already creeping into his broken in new bound. At Valrae’s announcement, the False Drow can barely manage a smile before shrugging meekly downward at Alex’s form – the dust settling and opening up like a curtain. Dragging his feet with his earthly brand in hand, Mesdoram stops 15 feet away from Alex as he contemplates what do to the bard. And then his stomach begins turning… much like when he entered the battle arena; the False Drow looks up to see the throngs of people, friends, judges, and couples cheering Alex and Mesdoram on during the battle… but the 3 people he misses the most are not among them… and grief seeps into his tiny mind once more. Mesdoram in an act of kindness drops his sword and spares Alex anymore pain. “Get a healer please for him. He fought valiantly against a terrible opponent…” Mesdoram’s inner conscience still grieving the acts of his previous life. With no more fuss from the False Drow, Mesdoram limps away from the battle for healers to mend the brave Alex.
Alex was still struggling to breathe when he looked up to see Mesdoram call a healer for him. He rolls himself off the top of the Wyvern and spots Valrae, pondering only for a moment if she was referring to him, but he somehow knew better and just further removed himself from the creature before finally catching his breath enough to mutter something towards her. "Never risk anything... you don't want to lose..." a call back to his bout in the tournament years ago when his dire wolves were slaughtered.
- Back to Titans of Winter Tournament 2023