Duel:Ralinde v Gorehilt, Match 2 of the 2022 Vailkrin Tournament

Duelists: Ralinde vs Gorehilt

 Duel: Traditional 3 rounds with final defense, 20 minute posting limit.
 Stakes: Auto-hit to the winner plus 5000 gold.
 Judges: Quintessa, Valrae, Kasyr

Dark Arena

The arena is filled with various corpses, both dead and undead alike. Several zombies seem to be carrying the corpses out of the arena, returning them to the masters they served. Many bodies here look disfigured and ill, clearly abominations constructed by necromancers to serve in the gladiator-like battles held here in the arena. Several of the other bodies though are completely normal, those of which were likely living participants that did not succeed in winning their matches. A battle must have recently gone on here, as the crowds of people step out of the entrance of the area. To the south is the way out, while to the north is a path leading to the back of the arena, and the castle beyond that.

Pre-duel Banter and Introduction

Quintessa || Again Saorsa Cladach, the Steward of the Dark Forest and the head of the Countess’ gaming commission leads and organizes this event in Quintessa’s place, her bright ginger hair becoming a normal fixture here in Vailkrin. As everyone gets seated she rises to her feet to place a hand on her podium, activating the runic device which would amplify her voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys, girls, and enbies- I’m Saorsa Cladach and this is the Vailkrin Blood Bowl! I’d like to welcome each and every one of you here to vivacious Vailkrin! We’re in the Dark Arena tonight for something special folks- That’s right, today we have our second official match slated for you all this evening, so without further ado let’s introduce our next contestants.”

Quintessa || “First up from the swamps of Gualon- His name is practically its own brand at this point. We’ve seen him in the Titans of Winter. We’ve seen him in the Heroes of Freedom. And now adding the Vailkrin Blood Bowl to his list of accolades… You know him. You love him. Let’s give it up for Gorehilt! Gorehilt, please take your position in the ring!” (ooc: Gorehilt post your intro please)

Gorehilt is limbering up by the ringside, first going through a set of routine stretches, then taking up his spear and walking through a few forms. Those familiar with the orc will see nothing new here; he’s a young, athletic half-orc man with dreads, green skin, and tusks. He wears black, spiked armor. A small mark of Vakmathras glints on his breastplate like a medal. Gorehilt’s spear is well kept and of obviously fine make, wrought of some dull, matte gray metal. Or is it some polished silvery metal? Perhaps its a trick of these dark, sunless lands, but the spear’s oddly appearance is oddly difficult to pin down. With a subdued smirk and a cavalier air, the half-orc strides out to meet his opponent in the ring.

Quintessa || “And next is a lady who’s a tournament veteran, fighting in at least four Titans of Winters and once in the Acolytes of War. A paladin of great repute, known as a sword of justice in the face of so much evil today… The Ravishing… The Resilient… The Radiant Ralinde!” (ooc: Ralinde post your intro please)

Mesdoram decides that everyone wants to be in his company today, and sits on the row just above his favorite people: Meri and Magik of course. "We did it, best buddies. We made it to the big times." The soon to be drunker drow declares.

Ralinde watched as the crowd filtered in. She considered this more a test of strength than of spectacle. It was damn exciting though to feel that vibrant energy. Feeling that vibrant energy roll through them like lightning! Ralinde could see why tournaments were always such a big event. The paladin took a deep breath and stretched. Her half-plate settling over cloth and leathers. The silvery gauntlets seemed to ripple with a strange blue light. It was no enchantment, only the shimmer of her own aura as she readied for the fight.

Quintessa || “Before we begin, have you both discussed any wagers, stakes, or special rules for this bout? If not we will default to standard rules (20 min post limit, autohit awarded to winner). Have the duelists agreed on who will be attacking first? If not, the host may decide for you. Judges please keep in contact with me during this match, if three judges have not been selected yet I will appoint people to fill the remaining slots.”

Ralinde said, "Aye. With another 5k gold on the line, make your move, death knight."

Magik said to Meri, "I'll kill him where he stands."

Magik said to Mesdoram, "I'll kill you where you stand."

Gorehilt said, "Yeah, she's got the right idea," he agrees, "we're each putting 5,000 gold on the line." Gorehilt flashes a grin at Ralinde, "and don't mind if I do.""

Quintessa || “If both duelists agree to and understand the rules, say ‘Ready,’ and the environmental hazard shall be introduced.”

Gorehilt said, "Ready."

Meri makes faces at Mesdoram's choice of seating. Meri nods to Magik in agreement. Kill him where he stands. And then she proceeds to tell Magik how much of a fool Mesdoram made of himself at the election yesterday. Loudly. She wants Mes to hear her.

Ralinde said, "Ready"

Environmental Challenge

22:12:43 Quintessa || With both duelists in place Saorsa shouts the vague order “Terramancers! Now!” and the ground of the arena rumbles, so quietly at first that it seems to be just a trick of the mind. Without warning, the dirt cracks from the center outward, revealing fissures that resemble a large spiderweb from above. On the sidelines of the arena, mages borrowed from the Xalious Mage's Tower push and pull the earth further apart from the fissures as if pulling the tides. When the rumbling ceases, it appears like a lackluster challenge for a moment; simply tripping hazards of canyons no wider than a human's height. Then, comes the glass-shattering screeching and furious skittering from below. The fiery Vailkrinese huntsman spiders have been angered, and they are climbing the fissures to attack the duelists. As bright red legs as thick as the contestants legs crest the canyons, as if coming straight from the fires of Perdere, a voice rings out, "I feel like it would only be fair to warn you: These spiders have an average crawl speed on par of that of lycans running in their lupine forms, and their silk can and will burn through your armor if touched. Good luck!" (ooc: start duel)

Leoxander stepped into that territory for the second time in a very long time, but thankfully his destination wasn’t the center of the dark arena. The two maned wolf pups that were growing into their adolescent age stayed close to the pirate’s heels or Loravelle’s robe hems, should she be wearing her usual attire. Heading into the stands, he sought a space to brush some dirt from for a spot for his fiance, and that was about when the rumbling began. His gaze shifted upward, at first, but before he could sit down he happened to look toward the movement creeping from those crevices and some of the audience would hear his remark. “You’ve got’a be bloody kiddin’ me…”

Mesdoram shakes his head in disapproval of the conditions for this duel... he would love to ride a spider into battle with his duel with the Orange one. Maybe he can catch one of these creatures after the bout. The drow then gets distracted by more of Meri's propaganda and responses. "Stop spread lies, woman. I saved a newly elected mayor." The drow promptly returns to his drink.

Mesdoram whispered something to Magik.

Meri glares at Mesdoram.

Magik whispered loudly to Mesdoram, "I'll kill you where you stand."

Loravelle follows not far behind Leo while holding a bag of treats to keep the boys close by. The sound of the rogue's voice has her head turn just in time to see not only the arena's floor fracture and break apart, but the arrival of spiders. Gods above... She mutters a curse and slumps into the seat Leo dusts off for her, and Chee decides it's a good time to hop up into her lap. The book keeper quietly prays that Gorehilt or Ralinde burns them all away or that one of the gods intervenes to do it. She isn't even afraid of spiders. “I hate this place,” she eventually mutters under her breath, while idly petting the maned wolf pup in her lap that sniffs at the bag of snacks she tries to keep out of his reach.

Leoxander tore his gaze from the scene that already made him grimace with a general glance to the rest of the crowd. "Five on the half-orc if anyone wants to bite that bait."

Meri repeats, just in case Mesdoram did not hear Magik the first few times these words were uttered, "He'll kill you where you stand."

Magik said to Meri, "I will."

Khitti || Khitt finally finds himself a seat in the stands, that same box with a bottle of whiskey and a glass in it in hand. Getting settled, he catches sight of those huntsman spiders. "Oh man, Francis would love this." So, what does he do? He summons up the portal that calls to Khitti's "firstborn" spider son, and a cow-sized, white. rune-covered huntsman spider crawls his way out of it. "Hey, buddy! Look! It's your friends!" Francis let out a confused blurbled whine and a tilt of his head, to which Khitt pointed at the arena floor. "See? You gotta be good though and sit like a good boy to watch them, okay?" He patted the arachnid on the head and Francis somehow manages to do that thing dogs and cats do where they turn around in their spot several times before finally seating himself. Then he blurbles happily and clicks his mandibles together in excitement.

Saorsa said, "The Black Pond Gaming Commission would like to remind everyone that getting killed before your match -will- result in disqualification. Thank you."

Mesdoram wraps his arms around the lovely couples shoulder and leans in. "Then it's a good thing I'm sitting, isn't it!?" An obnoxious snort leaves the drunk man's mouth as he returns to his normal sitting posture.

Meri nods in firm agreement to Magik, "I know you will, babe. I know." Shortly after Meri ends up distracted because Khitt goes and opens a portal that summons Francis. While Meri knows Francis, she's never been his biggest fan. That won't stop Meri from playing nice though, they are family, so both are greeted with a wave.

Meri slaps Mesdoram's hand. Hard. "Don't. Touch. Me. What is wrong with you."

Khitti || Khitt returns the wave and Francis wiggles his spider butt happily in his seat, very clearly happy to see his aunt.

Leoxander trailed his gaze in Khitt’s direction, at first just by coincidence for his arrival. But the rogue’s burned features paled as that portal opened to provide access to those long, spindle legs crawling out, six others to follow in rhythm. A step back causes him to nearly trip over Loravelle and the twins, one of which with both eyes intact yelping out of surprise, not because he was stepped on.

Magik does a thing quickly. Something about a knife blade under Mesdoram's chin firmly as he leans in. He then looks to his wife, "He's out of line, but he's right.." With Mes sitting down, Magik turns in his seat just a tad to keep Mesdoram in his peripherals.

Khitti said to Leoxander, "If you need help standing or sitting in one place, I can send Francis over to bear hug you for the duration of the duel to keep you steady."

Magik offers Khitt a wave as well. Brother-n-law and such.

The Duel

22:34:29 Gorehilt steadies himself on the rumbling earth, spear in one hand like a walking stick, the other arm outstretched for balance. The ground stills, and there’s a flash of hesitation in his eyes. Is that all? Of course not. Gorehilt doesn’t need anyone to shout “go,” or “start” or “good luck.” There are angry spiders bubbling out of the ground. Gorehilt is running, and as fast as he can at that. “Aaaaah!” Whether in rage or terror, it’s hard to tell, but the half-orc has raised a cry as he sprints and vaults across the increasingly inhospitable ring toward Ralinde. A spider rushes at him, and he curses with an acidity to match that of the forewarned webs. Acting half in terror, half in blind rage, and half on luminous intuition (he’s really giving 150% here), Gorehilt twirls his spear and swats the oversized arachnid with the butt. The spider curls in pain and rolls several meters, its legs a folded tangle before they spring open again and it resumes its vicious advance. Aha. Hefting his weapon alternatively as both pitchfork and golf club, the half-orc advances on Ralinde with one swing after another–clubbing, pitching, and slinging spiders at her. Some roll toward her feet, some sail through the air at her in arcs, others dart straight for her middle like fastballs. “Gods. What. Hells.” To say he's getting the hang of it wouldn’t be quite right, but panic is a particular sort of muse. Gorehilt is very very keen to keep tossing, knocking, herding, and otherwise directing the spiders away from himself and toward Ralinde as quickly and surely as possible.

Meri could agree with Magik, but that would give Mesdoram the satisfaction of hearing Meri say he is right. So the blonde lycan takes the stubborn route. There is a few more glares at the drow before Meri tries to ignore him. Instead of antagonizing the drow, she'll encourage Khitt to antagonize Leoxander, "Do it. Leo loves hugs."

Loravelle “Leo-!” Lora stands and reaches for her fiance, grabbing at his forearm if she can get it, and decides it might be best if they swapped spaces. Not that she's much of a shield given her size, but she can try positioning herself between him and whatever spiders might be lurking in the audience. “We could leave,” she softly suggests. Her being somewhat unafraid is a rarity, but she's trying. She tries to soothe their yelping pup with soft words and a ruffling of his big ears, before offering him a treat. The one-eyed pup gets one too, just in case he starts jealously whining for attention as well.

Leoxander glances from Khitt to Meri, the expression on the rogue’s face not the usual glare but drained. As wonderful as it was that they were having a laugh at his trauma, it was fairly soon with him still sporting burns from the young necromancer’s fiery spell. Anger triggered, he jerked his arm even from Loravelle’s grasp to pace another step back. “What the hell did I ever do to you?” He sharply questions Meri. Khitt and his counterpart he could expect it from. The phrase ‘learn to take a joke’ might come to mind but his phobia was real and warranted.

Khitti || Khitt narrowed his eyes at Leo, whatever sort of enjoyment--either for his joke or the duel itself--washed away for the moment. "Chill out and quit talking to my sister like that, before I -make you- chill out."

Mesdoram begins cheering for the spiders. "Let's go my arachnid friends!! Show no mercy!" He hopes to get one on those creatures good side for his next battle. Heeding the warning from the gaming commissioner, the drow is going to try his best not to die before his turn in the Blood Bowl!

22:50:31 Ralinde saw that her opponent was athletic and an expert in battle. She could hope to outrun him and get under his spear. His spiked armor would be a problem though. She watched as the ground opened up in front of her. Seeing magic at work was awe-inspiring. but what came with it inspired only fear. Those things were faster than any half-elf and their silk was more than a simple ranged deterrent. She would have to make this quick. The paladin surveyed the battlefield and strategized her approach. Whether Gorehilt could back up that smug confidence or not was on trial. It was hard to tell if his opening move disproved that. He was using the spiders -as- projectiles! The paladin smiled despite herself and began to leap back and forth between pillars of earth. She couldn't keep dodging them though - they were massive and could melt her plate off her with little effort. With a quick gesture and a prayer, Rallinde enveloped herself in a shield of light. The shimmering field of whitish-blue thickened up to deter the living missiles. It acted as a buffer, slowing them down and allowing her to evade with more ease. "Arkhen protect me, and let me walk in the path of light-" a spider came up from the rock behind her! She had to leap forward, her shield slowing down one of Gorehilt's screaming missiles enough to act as a stepping stone. With a leap and a kick, her shielded aura became a deadly weapon. She burst through one of the spider's abdomens and came out the other side holding the end of its leg. She used it like a dart, wrapped in the melting fiery silk, launching it towards Gorehilt's chest. There was no telling how long her shielded aura would hold out under this onslaught though. The paladin tried to keep moving forward and gain ground with every step.

Meri lifts a brow at the reaction that she earns from Leo. The blonde is slightly perplexed but does not see a point in arguing over it. So to Khitt, "I was joking. But it's whatever. Let's just watch the duel." Meri's eyes are forward now, paying no further mind to a bulk of the crowd.

Leoxander narrowed his eyes right back. Today was obviously not a day meant for him to socialize. “Go (#^@*) yourself.” He tried to focus back toward the duel but remained standing. He wasn't about to leave Lora' behind in Vailkrin, particularly in that setting. They'd come to see what the half-orc was capable of and he tried his best to put some focus back on that.

Magik whispered something to Meri.

Loravelle 's hands fall limp at her sides, and for a moment she frowns. Acting as mediator isn't really her forte at all, but she's gonna step in anyway. Looking to Khitt, she stammers, “C-can you...keep y-your um...” She gestures at the spider, having missed that his name is Francis, “Would it be alright if you kept them away from u-us- please, sir-” Well, so much for her try at a polite, stammering request. Leo's swear has her closing her mouth shut, and she quietly sits back down with the pups, wringing her wrists and hoping the situation doesn't boil over into something worse.

Mesdoram peers around as Ralinde's attack unfolds. Spotting someone of political note, Mesdoram shouts out to Mayor Valrae and waves drunkenly at the newly elected. "MAYOR!!" Mesdoram nudges Meri with a firm elbow. "That's who I saved yesterday, and then..." The drow talks directly into Magik's ear. "then Meri kicked me out! Can you believe that?!" Before his two best friends can react appropriated, he leans back into his seat for some whiskey.

Meri whispered something to Magik.

Meri had been having some sort of exchange with her husband right when Mesdoram started nudging her with his elbow. This only serves to sour Meri's already bad mood. Mix in the way that Leo talks to Khitt? Well. Meri is getting very close to losing her cool, though she's trying very hard to not make a scene at the event.

Meri said to Mesdoram, "Don't. Touch. Me."

Khitti || Khitt just sighed and nodded at Meri. Leo's cursing was ignored and a frown offered to Loravelle. "It was a joke, first of all. Second, Francis is more well-behaved than most people are and hasn't moved an inch beyond saying 'hello' to his aunt Meri. So, he's going to continue to sit here, like a good boy, and watch his friends try to eat the duelists." And then, he does what Meri did and focused on the duel and tended to his drink.

Magik clears his throat loudly after Mes bumps into Meri. Magik shifts once again but to get a much better look at Mesdoram. The Lyastri points a single finger at the bottom of the drow's pants, "You are about to have an issue.." With a quick wiggle of his finger, Mesdoram's pants set aflame around his ankles.

Leoxander so swiftly returned to a familiar public enemy status. So much for the social graces. The wolf’s glare lingered on Khitt while Lora’ did what she did best, timidly trying to defuse the situation. On edge and still bitter from a loss, he reluctantly lowered down into a seat beside the grey-eyed maiden, tension in his shoulders and back and a look due to move over his shoulder for anyone walking or hovering behind him. The pup trying to gnaw the durable edge of his boot was nudged with knuckles, but that only made Jee try to attack the pirate’s hand, harmlessly for now.

Meri turns her gaze away from the duel long enough to see what Magik is up to. It's enough to bring a smirk to Meri's lips. This is why she loves her husband so.

Mesdoram frowns at Meri and Magik. Clearly, his best friends were tired and hangry. So, for now, he will sit in peace and enjoy the fight... Mesdoram pours a bit of whiskey down on the ground below him as a tribute to his fallen friends and immediately makes his pants disintegrates in a cartoon flash of irony. Luckily for the viewing public, the drow decided to wear undergarments this day. "Let's just enjoy the show!" Was he talking about the duel? You be the judge...

Khitti said to Mesdoram, "Why are you the way that you are?"

23:11:52 Gorehilt is just beginning to run out of adjacent spiders to fling. It seems as though he’s managed to clear himself a little breathing room. What a relief. The last immediately nearby spider gets skewered though the head, he he picks it up, just about to throw it when Ralinde’s words make him hesitate. He frowns in black, profane piety. “Vakmatharas, snuff her. Extinguish her light and plunge her in spiteful darkness.” Thus, he abjures her divine protections and trusts (he hopes not in vain) that his god will win out in a contest of favors. “C’mon,” he adds under his breath as he swings up his skewered spider like a shield, “you owe me, Vak Man. I never ask for anything.” With a juicy *pthock*, Ralinde’s leg dark sticks into Gore’s spider shield. He flings the carcass aside, snarls, and mirrors her rapid move forward, quickly closing the distance as the they mutually advance to melee. “That’s more like it!” The half-orc lunges, slashing through the air in a whistling arc, his spearblad streaking down toward… her shoulder? Her head? Her arms? Some wicked enchantment on the spear makes it difficult to grasp with one’s eyes, as though it wishes not to be seen. In actuality, the strike is a feint. The downward momentum bends the flexible spear like a spring, and quick as lightning, Gorehilt flicks it back upward between her legs, hoping to slice at the insides of her thighs or her belly.

Magik whispered something to Khitti.

Mesdoram offers Khitt a seat next to him and a whiskey.

Mesdoram said to Khitti, "Would you like to hear the story?"

Leoxander took a small wooden case and a box of matches from his back pocket with a lean, again impatiently nudging the half blind pup away until he decided his sibling would be a better adversary. Striking the match and lighting the end of one of those herb-laced, hempen wrapped smokes, he set those objects on the seating between himself and the petite bard, free hand flexing as if squeezing an invisible stress ball while the other pinched the cigarette from his mouth after a take into his lungs.

Khitti || Khitt nodded solemnly to Magik's whispering. "It's true. Those poor things. Someone think of the children."

Khitti said to Mesdoram, "Only if Francis can eat you afterward."

Mesdoram shrugs at Khitt's offer. "Guess you don't like whiskey. Suite yourself."

23:20:13 Ralinde took a serious expression on. "Oh so now it's becoming a personal religious thing? All right." Snuff her out plunge her into darkness? Her prayers had been defending herself but if he wanted to get - real - about it she could -get- real. She could feel her shield flicker and dim, either by the will of his putrid god or the lava-like silk. Time was running out and Gorehilt's spear was coming forward. Her instinct was to dip back out of his reach, but instead, she moved forward to his flank. His spear would come back up within of her thinning shields, slicing at the outside of her thigh. With the momentum of her turn, she focused the remaining shield energy around her right fist. She put the limit of her power into making it a massive ball of holy energy aimed between his shoulder blades. She needed him out of the fight asap.

Magik shakes his head at Mesdoram then wraps his arm about Meri. Next step is burning off Mes' eyebrows. Let's just hope it doesn't take that kind of turn. There's a duel going on. This is the time for everyone to be civil, damn it!

Loravelle keeps an eye on their wrestling pups while reaching for Leo's free hand. She gives it a squeeze, hopefully reassuring, since it seems like things are mellowing out now. Hopefully. Fingers crossed.

Meri leans into Magik when he wraps an arm around her. Meri was trying to be civil! Yet things had gone awry to the point that the only people Meri was paying half a mind to, outside of the duelists, were Magik and Khitt.

Leoxander managed not to crush Loravelle's hand when she found her smaller grip over his inked knuckles, turning to thread their fingers while he smoked his cigarette and kept his attention on the fight and away from 'Francis'. The creature was probably friendly enough, but Leo had a hard time even being near Dezerae's 'Coco' let alone a giant man hunting arachnid.

23:41:24 Gorehilt would have liked to capitalize on his advantage, and just as he is throwing his strength against the spear to flex and whip it again, Ralinde spins. Before he can understand what has happened, the woman is behind him. Outwitted by footwork, the blow lands square on his back and sends him flying. It knocks him a full somersault. He skids several meters, and lands, alas, dazed on the ground and too near a grouchy spider. “Oh no.” He groans, and kicks at the nightmare creature, fending it off with toe spikes, but not before a line of web falls across his calf and hisses through the mail. Gorehilt howls in pain, his eyes go bloodshot with adrenaline. He grabs the spider by one fang and tugs it in for a headbut. The spiders face caves against Gorehilt’s famously thick head. Roaring now, the half-orc rips the fang free and hurls himself up onto his feet. In a fluid motion he stands, spins, and hurls his spear at Ralinde like a javelin. It flexes and twists in the air with the force of the through and, somehow it seems, with a malicious intelligence that seeks to slip past one’s guard and one’s senses alike. Whether the spear flies true or not, the enraged Gorehilt is charging Ralinde at a galloping limp. His fist crunches the spider fang in his hand, and it pops like an overripe pimple, oozing venom down his spiked gauntlet. As he swipes to grab at her with his free hand, he swings the envenomed other at her face, hoping to score even so much as a grazing hit.

Leoxander was still a bit hoarse, but he managed to shout toward the center of the Arena loud enough to be picked up on by the contestants, stamping out the rest of that rolled tobacco and herb blend under a boot. "Let's go, kid. Giv'er hell."

Mesdoram stretches his legs out as he has been sitting still for too long. He also elects to eat a few pieces of bread to balance out his whiskey consumption.

Mahri arrives. Late, but she's here. Give her credit for showing up. It doesn't take long to find a place to sit, and if she had to nudge someone out of the way to get that seat she will, but it'll be right behind Leo or near enough. She won't say anything though, simply watch what's left of the fight.

23:59:22 Ralinde looked beyond angry but she still felt bad about the spider getting on him. She was about to stomp her way over there to kick it off before Gorehilt tore himself free. In a flash, his weapon headed towards her, homing in with that strange twisting way. It was far too fast to dodge. She had to brace herself, feet shoulder-width, deep breaths. She moved on instinct, feeling the energy pump into her core and her arms. As the spear zipped towards her she spread her arms wide- and clamped down. Her hands still rolled with the remains of her shielded energy. There would be a rush of air as she let out her breath, staring down. The death-defying stunt stopped the tip less than a finger's width from her heart. The shock of it traveled up her arms as her magic tried to absorb the impact. She'd been so focused on it that she hadn't seen Gorehilt limp towards her. His venom-covered hand swung at her unguarded face. She dropped the spear somewhere into the spidery canyons below, screaming. Her flesh might be dripping off the bone but they were both fueled by adrenaline. With the absorbed energy from his spear, she covered her upper body in more of her shielded aura. The paladin would let out another scream and charge her shoulder at him. She wanted to force him off the pillar of earth and into the spider-filled canyons below.

Meri smirks knowingly at Magik but doesn't bother to keep her response hushed, "Same. Very much same." Mes is given a look when he moves, because he moved, but he keeps quiet so Meri leaves him be.

Magik would offer Mes some diet tips if he wasn't scum of the earth, but..

Leoxander had been keeping watch on his back since arriving, though he had the tendency to do that in almost any scenario. Seeing Mahri settle into the seat behind him, he carefully leaned back against her leg or knee, avoiding pressure to the fresh sutures of that electrocution scar. It brought him some reassurance, having his pack sister at his back while watching the fight continue in a pit of spiders. But safe to say his appetite was ruined for the day.

Mesdoram would offer Magik and Meri some tips about being better friends... but they would have to be his friends first.

Mesdoram wraps his arm around the empty seat next to him and takes a big romantic swig of whiskey.

Meri offers Mahri a wave when the other lycan woman makes an appearance but keeps the exchange short as the duel will be wrapping up soon. Who will win? Dun dun dun.

Mahri returns Meri's wave just as Leo is leaning back. Rather than one knee, he'll get both. Dude's heavy and the extra support helps. She might even reach out and tug a bit of hair at the nape of his neck - glad to see you're mostly normal.

00:10:56 Gorehilt counters Ralinde’s shoulder with a push and a grunt, turning the pushing match into a contest of raw strength and, perhaps more importantly, weight. Snarling, seeing red, and throbbing in the temples, he leans forward. Gorehilt commits himself to the the shoving match, plying his boots and his spiked toes against the earth to add traction to his other advantages. If he can, if the opportunity avails itself, he will even hoist Ralinde up off her feet; after all, she can’t push him if he’s picked her feet up off the ground, can she?

Loravelle 's head turns to look behind Leo when he leans back, grinning when she sees Mahri behind him. “Hi Mah,” she greets.

Saorsa said, "Boys, girls, enbies, both our duelists have put up a great fight but only one gets to move onto round two. Let’s give the judges a few moments to talk amongst themselves…"

Mesdoram without warning stands up abruptly and beings cheering loudly! "Let's see some blood!" Due to the proximity of Mesdoram and his pants-less situation, he begins gyrating aggressively as he sways side to side behind his best friends.

Mahri pulls her attention from the fight to smile over at Mouse. "Hey, Mouse." Glancing at the reclining Leo, Mahri asks, "Comfy?"

Meri has been so good...up until this moment. But the moment Mesdoram begins to gyrate behind where she and Magik are sitting? Well. The blonde whips around and throws a punch at him in the process. She's sitting. He's standing. You take your best guess where she aimed at....

Leoxander kept hold of Loravelle’s hand, in public, even. A slight tilt of his skull away from the pluck of his hair, some of it singed short to be about the most reckless and confusing style the rogue had ever sported. Eventually he’d have to take a blade to it, but that was a long ways down his list of priorities. His gaze didn’t leave the fight as he asked of the two nearest to his finally settled position, some of the anger dissipated. “Either of you got a drink?” As if he hadn’t had enough. But there didn’t seem to be any Vailkrin vendors and he wasn’t sure he would trust to consume their confections if there were.

Magik stretches an arm back for reasons. You know, sitting for a while makes the Elder Lyastri stiff. Oh and he's still holding that knife. Watch yourself, Mes.

Mahri always has a flask of ~something~ and she hands it to Leo. "Got something from the JR. Not sure what it is. Booze Roulette, I guess?"

Leoxander said to Mahri, "Nope." Might have something to do with Francis and the volley of dead and crawling spiders on the field. "Not even."

Leoxander took the flask, willing to take the gamble. "I'm all in." To the fellow alpha as he popped the top and hoped it wasn't the peach schnapps Simon had recently delivered with the rest.

Mesdoram thinks he'll just sit down right in this chair until it's his turn to duel. His besties have worn him out. Then an angel with ice comes and saves him from any further pain. "You are a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, maddam..." Due to the pain and possible blood loss (and copious amounts of whiskey), Mesdoram passes out before thank Brennia properly.

Mahri || Leo's in luck. It's not peach schnapps. It's probably moonshine.

Saorsa said, "We have our winner folks- you ready for an answer?"

Ralinde said, "Aye!"

Gorehilt said, "Ready!"

Meri said, "Dooo it!"

Saorsa said, "Our judges have decided! As always these things are hard to figure out but together we have reached a conclusion. This winner will go on to fight Khitt in the next round… Snatching a narrow victory… Ralinde, please give congratulations to the victor, Gorehilt! Gorehilt will be the one to go up against Khitt in the next round. Ranlinde I offer you commiserations, and since you wagered your 5000 gold payment that is all I can give you. Gorehilt, you may finish this fight- and please come find me once the Arena personal clear the area of spiders for your 10,000 gold pieces."

Winner: Gorehilt

Leoxander gave 5000 gold to Gorehilt.

Leoxander handed back the flask after a drink caused him to grimace just a bit, bringing that hand to his mouth in order to bite on thumb and forefinger with a curl of his tongue and a shrill whistle at the announcement.

Magik said, "Booooo! That orc cheated!"

Magik has no proof of that outburst.

Quintessa gave 10000 gold to Gorehilt.

Mahri didn't see the grimace, but she made one of her own hearing that shrill whistle.

Leoxander turned a look toward Magik, briefly, still leaning back against the rest Mahri's legs provided.

Meri wiggles her brows to Magik.

Mesdoram 's passed out body twitches positively to Brenia's whispers of sweet nothings... sweet buttery nothings... ZZZzzzzzzzzz

Gorehilt bends his knees and pulls Ralinde forcefully into his grip. He shoves her back one, two, three paces from the ledge, forcing her tighter into his hold all the while. Twisting his spiked arms into place, he gains inside control, hooks his hold tight under Ralinde's elbows, and hoists. Roaring triumpantly, the enraged half-orc lifts Raline up, throws his back in an arch, and flips her body clean over his. Pulling with all his significant might, he throws her for a suplex, arching his body to bring her crashing down behind him on her head. The blow would have been terrible if, perhaps by the grace of Ralinde's goody-two-shoes deity, a spider had not been creeping up behind Gorehilt just that moment. Ralinde crashes into the middle of it head-first, lodging her head in the spider's guts with a sickening, splattering crunch. Well, at least it broke her fall... 00:38:05Magik catches Leo's gaze. What? It's no secret Magik has a strong distaste for orcs. Just look at them. Or, maybe, it kind of is a secret. Magik doesn't normally belt out that type of thing. All Magik can do is slightly shrug at Leo before whispering to Meri once more.

After Duel/Wrap-up

Magik decides to help the resident homeless drunk on his way back to that particular luxurious treehouse in southern Sage..with his smoking hot wife, Meri.

Leoxander couldn't recall the last time his eyes actually met Magik's dark gaze. It lingers there just a moment and there's the slightest shrug of a shoulder in return as if to say, 'Is what it is', whether regarding the orc's win or his distaste. The moment passes but it did in fact happen, shrug for shrug.

Mahri whispered something to Mahri. It was titillating.

Leoxander widened his eyes at what Mahri whispered. "Time to get the hell out'a here. Who's volunteering to grab the kid?" A motion of half burned jaw in Gorehilt's direction.

Mahri snorts a laugh and pats Leo on his shoulder briefly. He may get a sudden burst of energy and some of that singed hair falls and grows back healthy - and somewhere a small colony of insects is suddenly no more. "I'll help."

Loravelle cheers for Gorehilt's win, a little late. She's screaming something in orcish and it's startling Chee, but she figures now is a good time as any to round up the pups to get ready to go as she intends to follow Leo and Mahri out.

Gorehilt is in a proper rage and wont stop dismembering spiders until a couple of brave tournament attendants get him calmed down and led off the field. He's got blood and viscrea dripping down his face from when he headbutted that spider, not to mention a nasty-looking limp. Using his spear for a crutch (he had retrieved it from Ralinde's chest) he makes his way toward Quintessa, though he scans the sidelines for the medic tent as he walks. "Did you say," he clears his hoarse throat, "ahem, you had wanted to see me after the fight?"

Leoxander probably wouldn’t notice Mahri’s improved remedy of rogaine, but he did feel a little less sluggish as he stood up and had two twin maned wolves sniffing in Mahri’s direction, either eager to know who the similar smelling wolf woman was, or anxious to continue whatever adventure the day might bring. They were a pair of ugly lookin’ beasts, losing their summer fluff with their ears and legs seemingly growing much faster than their torso. One also happened to be missing an eye. “‘Ey, Spike. You good?” The pirate called down to the half orc as he finished exterminating the infestation of the dark arena. Even if he was busy making his way to the tournament host.

Mahri eyed the two beasts a moment then ignored them to follow Leo down to the arena. Spiders didn't bother her so much, but she knew they did her counter-part. The orc gets a good sweep of her eyes, looking past the gore and injuries to the potential beneath. A brow quirked - Leo had already settled on a nickname for the duelist. From what she'd seen, he was a decent fighter.

Gorehilt is a little swollen in the face. He throws Leo a lopsided grin. "Never been better," he says. "You should see the other guy." His eyes, still bloodshot, sweep up and down the lycan. "You look a little rough yourself, boss." Hearing Loravelle's cheer, he catches sight of her and fist pumps the air in gratitude. "I'd sell my family jewels for a healer right about now," he confesses through his smile.

Loravelle scoops up Chee, the pup with both eyes and clearly a momma's boy, to cautiously carry him down to the arena to join Mahri and Leo. Jee, the tougher one-eyed pup, follows at her heels, but scampers ahead when they're in closer proximity to Leo to linger near him. The pup in her arms seems keen on staying put, practically digging his claws into her robes to avoid spider guts and gnarled legs that might be nearby. She's of a similar mindset, eager to leave but willing to stick around until Leo led them all out. Besides, they gotta make sure Gorehilt is alright.

Leoxander wasn’t exactly going -near- that arena. Dead or not, he’d had enough spiders in the past week. The pups followed Mahri a few paces before returning to Loravelle’s feet as the pirate called back to Gorehilt. “Thanks for noticin’.” Back toward the stands, mostly to Loravelle and Mahri but in general. “We got one’a those?” A healer. Mahri’s technique was a bit technical and Lora’s stitch work on skin might need some more practice, but they’d managed to patch him up well enough to attend that day. 01:16:01Mahri 's technique was - complicated, not quite technical - but in any case she should be the last resort if healing is needed. "Ah... not sure?"

Gorehilt returns Mahri's aloof glance with similiarly cold appraisal, sweeping her once up and down with his eyes. "I ain't choosy." Orcs heal quickly on their own, and Gorehilt's hybrid vitality hasn't treated him wrong yet, but all the same, he'll take any help he can get after a fight like that. He'd see Mahri on a few occasions, but he couldn't put a name to her face, and he couldn't even recall if they'd been acquainted. Lora, of course, needed no introduction. "Shoulda been you down there," he chides her, "could have laid her out in one punch. Blam." He throws a slow, mock jab. "Right on the jaw. Laid her out flat."

Leoxander cast a sidelong glance Loravelle's way at Gorehilt's remark about her fighting.

Mahri tried to imagine Mouse hitting anyone. It broght an amused twitch to the corners of her mouth

Loravelle might flex her non-existent muscle at Gore's compliment but the pup in her arms is squirming. Instead she feigns a very serious, super tough look. Obviously she learned it from orcs back in Gualon from all of her uh...orc wrestling. Yeah. Lora totally secretly wrestles orcs in the swamp. “Blam,” she repeats, trying to suppress a laugh. “Good job.” She doesn't speak up about being a healer since she wasn't one yet, but that was a path that seemed to be one she'd be heading down soon. Instead, her eyes wander over toward Leo, and she feigns that super tough look again. “Pianos. You have no idea.” She didn't either, but she's trying to look serious. Gorehilt knew.

Mahri might just join Lora and give that pup in her arms a brief scratch under his chin, after letting him (or her) sniff her hand first.

Leoxander muttered to his fiance. "Clearly. But startin' to feel a lil' afraid." He beckoned Gorehilt over if the half orc managed to walk the distance. Leo wasn't going anywhere near those folded up and charred corpses. "A drink'll tide you over till we find one, mate."

Gorehilt regards Leo and Mahri's dubious looks with reproach, and he hurries to offer Loravelle apologies on their behalf. "Don't rough 'em up, Lora. I know they're askin' for it, but this one," he jerks his head at Leo, "got himself on my good side, and this one," he stiffly jerks his head the other way at Mahri, against the protestations of a sore neck, "sounds like she might be a healer, so at least wait until after she's patched me up. You know. Before you clean her clock." Gorehilt begins to suppress a laugh, but the effort strains something painfully, and his face scrunches up. "Ow." Ironically, the fact that it hurts to laugh is kinda funny, and it makes him laugh again. "Ow. Ha. Ow. Ha. Oh no."

Gorehilt said to Leoxander, "Now there's a man with the right idea. You lead the way." 01:40:05Mahri looks all wide-eyed at Loravelle and presses a hand to the base of her throat, "Mouse, you wouldn't really 'clean my clock', would you?"

Loravelle is worried this joke about her being some ruthless and dangerous woman might be getting out of hand, mostly because Mahri's wide-eyed look was convincing. “N-no, I wouldn't! It's just a joke...” She realizes then that Mah is most likely teasing, and wants to smack herself. “I...Hmm.” Her face is turning red now.

Leoxander felt his mood repair a bit at Gorehilt’s comment, and the company of trusted friends. His arms crossed over his chest until the green skinned male passed toward the book keeper, and Mahri’s performance almost earned a smirk. “Let’s get this man a drink. This pit fug’n stinks.” He didn’t bother to coddle Chee as Loravelle did to the fully sighted twin of the pair, but the tough little bugger would keep up as grace on too-long limbs allowed as he turned toward the exit of the arena.

Mahri winks playfully at Loravelle before stepping behind Leo on the way out of arena