Duel:Nemisis v Rikailin
Duelists: Nemisis vs. Rikailin. Stakes: Auto-hit post and 20k gold. Judges: Kristos, Reece (mid), Xarnothorpe
Southern Sage Forest
Rikailin boldly advances upon the Draconian who had dare disturbe her peace on this fine evening, a coolness in her eyes bespeaking hail to come. Switching Katr'Liana to her left hand and thus disturbing her serpentine winged familiar in the weapon's errant passing along her flank, the druid swings the implement skyward and twirls it lightly, re-establishing a grip near its middle almost instantly. Quickly and with no preamble, a thick-looking net wrought from ropes of vine and braces of bough and branch comes tumbling out of the overhead canopy, as if yanked by some invisible ley-line manifested by the fearsome staff. This snare falls atop Nemisis rather squarely and with none of the artless lack of grace common to tumbling objects; indeed, the trap seems to have been neatly laid and then sprung in this half-instant, affording the draconian little chance to escape at least part of its devilish clutch. As the net falls, Nyessa, the snake, darts off her mistress's shoulder, arrowing straight for the nearest bit of armoured flesh she can batten on; scales may prove momentary impediments to her needle-sharp fangs, but even the best of guards can be compromised to an intrepid soul, and this particular specimen has fed little in the last week, owing to her mistress's mysterious absence from the surrounding wilds. At this point, Rikailin stops short, still some fifteen feet from her foe, and yanks her left hand back with the staff still clutched tightly in her clenched fist; immediately, Rikailin's makeshift net sprouts thorns and hooks, then begins to tighten its jealous hold on any and all things upon which it has managed to fasten. If the man should not act quickly, he will be borne to ground and kept there forever by a combination of druidic trappings and paralytic venom from a freakish serpent.
Nemisis is rather pleased by Rikailin’s acceptance to a fight. Without much else to say with words, he took his stance and eased his feet out, pushing up dirt in the process. His tail began to sway slightly faster and the poisonous blades revealed themselves. Ruby red optics scans the vampress very movements as he watches the sword rise and cut what appears to be a well laid trap. The demi offered the woman raised brow as the trap unfolded above with thorns and spikes. Not only did the trap fall but her snake darted straight for him. A grin appeared and with unsightly speed, he drew forth his katana and swung into a skyward arch. Only the sensitive ears would pick up what the eyes couldn’t see. The click of the sword hilt to the sheath indicated a series of swings, cutting through the wind and into the makeshift trap, destroying it. Despite his back ending up being turned away from Nyessa, he did not forget about her. This was only for fun and hence, he decided not to kill the striking snake. Tail lashing out with tremendous speed, a whistle could be heard as he slapped the unfortunate snake back towards its master. With the aerial threat gone, Nemisis turned his chaotic eyes back towards his opponent, hand gripping a sheathed katana. A simple technique of the sword combined with a deadly splash of chaotic energy would create his next attack. With a powerful swing, his katana was used as a medium, sending a raging chaotic slash towards the vampire, leaving tall crystal spikes to replace its path. However, just as it got close to its target, the attack would leap into the air and curve into a dive. The art of the trouble was not only the direct shot, but the amount of area it was intended to cover when it splashed upon impact.
Rikailin begins to move away from the draconian at the instant she feels the lack of tension from her staff; evidently, her ploy had failed, and thus greater room for movement would be necessary. The thud of tail on snake and the baleful hiss which sails past her left ear tell a tale of Nyessa's misfortune as the druid continues to backpedal, intending to achieve some distance before Nemisis can muster a counter-attack. The chaotically enhanced slash comes toward her anyway though; extra room to move means that she is not caught in the ripple of spikes, but is instead blown back by the sheer force of the attack with a hot line seared in her middle. Hitting the ground on her back with an audible grunt, Rikailin claps one hand across her middle to investigate the damage...blood and heat, but not too much of either to be fatal. With a snarl and a death's-head grin, the vampire lunges erect once more, this time foregoing simple tactics to a cunning concept far more complicated. First, she uses the reservoir stored in her sharproot charm to create a plate of ice underground, which she begins to laboriously lift as she begins to hop crabwise across the leaf-littered ground. Next, the druid dips her right hand into a pouch at her hip and withdraws a simple white flower blossom, almost sickly pale in this faint moonlight, which she proceeds to toss into the air; instantly, a gust of wind begins to blow back and forth and in circles overhead, as if seeking a target upon which to vent its wrath. As that sheet of ice reaches the level of the forest floor and the duff which rests upon it, Rikailin brings the two together, causing the focused wind-spell to snatch up the now-frozen debris from the forest floor and then howl toward Nemisis in all its ravaging, lethal-edged glory. Certainly, some of the detritus will shatter harmlessly upon impact...but the force and chill of the wind, combined with its barrage of projectiles, might serve an interesting delay for the draconian as Rikailin slides on the now-visible plate of ice underfoot. She whirls about across the cleared white surface, feet growing numb and pain still a hot thread across her lower chest. She slides until she has gained momentum, gliding back and forth in long elipses, then finally slants toward Nemisis from his left side with her staff outstretched, meaning simply to punch the weapon into an unprotected bit of flesh and, if she is lucky, to end this fight before it is fully begun. A man with a collapsed throat, for instance, will have trouble continuing even a friendlier fight.
Nemisis smiled quietly as he watched his attack unfold. The dodging of Nyessa was expected however the sharpness of the woman slightly surprised him. She managed to dodge most of his attack and just take the force of the shockwave, a smart move that most likely saved her being crystallized in some areas. Resheathing his katana back into his hilt, he watched as she began her next move. His fingers fiddled in the air as he tried to prepare for what she was doing. Before he even knew the extent of the attack, he moved into action at the sight of ice. He hated ice with a passion and it was one of his greatest weaknesses. Deep thought ensued and hands were brought into close proximity of each other as he tried his next technique. It was surely powerful and if successful, he could easily avoid the ice. His body sparked with chaotic energy and his hands glowed with the infamous red aura. Two violent strands of chaos would collide in the center of the limbs and form a small ball of growing chaos. It was mostly a solid orb until it shot up like a fountain trying to form a hollow sphere. It would almost make it before the technique, yet again, blew up in his face and send him cracking into trees. Only a few seconds to recover due to the distance he was sent flying, he stood up only to meet the oncoming icy wind. Wings slipped out of his back and covered him as he braced himself. The gust would proceed to severely lower his temperature and turn his skin blue. Head being covered as well, he failed to see Rakailin’s swing and was hence force sent flying for the second time. This time he was in more pain than ever. Teeth chattering, he stood up and drew in as much heat as he can before the next attack. Raising an angry palm to the woman, Nemisis dug his feet into the floor and released chaos into the atmosphere. As the energy trickled into space itself, his hand shot forth an invisible spatial blast, made apparent by the recoil effect his body took. The blast was fairly large and it quickly obliterated trees on its destructive path towards the vampire.
Rikailin feels the thump of wood on flesh and knows that her staff-strike has found a mark. "There!" she shouts in a slightly breathless voice. "Teach you to be impudent! Are you done squirming yet?" And then she is thrown back entirely unawares, owing to her inability to see the man's arm cock back in retaliation for his onslaught. No warning, and suddenly the druid is sliding along the ground after flying goodness knows how far, nursing bruises and a half-collapsed chest. She needs no breath to breathe, but if a rib had punctured her heart-- But no, the worst has not happened, and likely will not happen. From her prone position on the forest floor, now clear of her impromptu ice-rink, Rikailin retaliates with little thought or planning, intending that the man pay more dearly than ever for striking her in surprise. The only warning from the environment as the druid's magic goes to work is a slight darkening of the sky and a subtle crack from below. In an instant, the heavens open and disgorge fountains of icy rain, whilst the ground beneath erupts in veritable geysers of pulverized earth and icy shrapnel. Terrain might be this man's doom after all: loud roaring rain to drown the sound of imminent explosions, and the explosions themselves, perhaps shrouded to invisibility by falling water, sure to pummel the fellow into some semblance of submission in the wet, cold termination of Rikailin's offensive.
Nemisis heavily breathed visible breaths as he covered his body shivering. He wasted no time into absorbing the heat around him at a faster pace. His mind raced with the thought of another ice attack being sent his way. Knowing full well Rikailin had enough time to take in what happened to him he went into full blown alertness. Even though his body temperature returned and his skin began change back, he did not stop absorbing the heat around him. Vegetation began to dry up as he thought and his body started to steam. The assassin had to give it to the woman, she was good and he was…..he dared say turned on. Before he knew it he began to feel the ground tremble and sky darkened. The realmwalker’s mouth gaped open as he sensed the strength of the oncoming attack. Looking forward, it was almost as if he seen one of his own attack shot at him but with ice instead. He would be damned if he was turned into an icicle! He would not have it! In a fit of anger and heat, his eyes glowed brighter and his aura lashed out. The temperature sky rocketed as the floor rumbled. Pulling back both arms, a shining ray of darkness shot out from both hands before infecting the interior of the reddish hue of aura. The chaosborn’s own floor trembled and with his last stand at the oncoming aerial and ground attack, he roared and lunged forth his blackened palms. The earth cried as the darkest of flames roared in protest of the ice. These flames that burned till there was nothing left. These flames that are fueled by the darkness of energies and emotions. These flames that were selfish and unforgiving. Oh how it clashed with its icy sister, only to caused a catastrophic explosion that leveled the area in chaos. Without much of a care, Nemisis stood there boldly with ambition that would not falter, welcoming the oncoming blast that sent him away into the eddoes with frightening force. This was going to hurt and he knew, but it was worth it and the pain would be lessen by the thought that the very same thing was headed Rikailin’s way.
Rikailin feels Nemisis's counter-attack in the form of empty void...a spreading vacuousness that seems to embody the very essence of death itself. She knows not what the man means to accomplish, feels only the presence of his gathering force rather than his actual machinations...but even the hinted threat of such imminent destruction lends her the strength to lunge upright. In a speedy hobble the druid exits to the north, moving away from the man as fast as her aching legs can carry her, not screaming or even breathing. All of her dwindling reserves fuel her desire to vacate the area before the titanic force is unleashed...and escape she does, for the ear-shattering din shatters her relative silence only as a sound and not another sensory reality. She knows not the hell that ravages the world beyond her, and can only hope that the fool responsible has perished in the folly of his own power.
Winner:Nemisis