Duel:Reginae v Mathollak, Match 3 of the 2022 Vailkrin Tournament

Duelists: Reginae vs Mathollak

 Duel: Traditional 3 rounds with final defense, 20 minute posting limit.
 Stakes: Auto-hit to the winner plus adorning fans.
 Judges: Meri, Lanara, 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 || Saorsa Cladach, the ginger-headed head of Quintessa’s gaming commission stands not alone on the podium tonight, her hand hovering over the runic markings that would amply her voice as she looks over her shoulder. As people file into the seats she can be seen trying to explain to the woman next to her how it worked. After a nod of confirmation Saorsa would look out to the audience before placing her hand upon the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys, girls, and enbies- I’m Saorsa Cladach and this is the Vailkrin Blood Bowl! We are all back here in Vailkrin tonight, in the Dark Arena for one thing- That’s right folks, it's time for our third official fight, and as a very special treat for you all we have world famous songstress and duelist Kanna! Kanna, would you mind introducing our two fighters for this evening?” The vampire takes a step to the side for the bard to take her place.

Quintessa || From Sarosa's side, Kanna rises, wearing a blood-red Rynvalian-style off-shoulder gown. Decorating the left half of the gown are embroidered silver shields for Aramoth, and decorating the right side are embroidered golden goblets for Delisha. Blood-red roses line the crown of her head as well to contrast her silver updo. "Mortals and nonmortals, friends and foes, we have a clash of the devout to show you tonight. In this corner, weighing in at an even twenty stone, a man with the build of Delisha's lover, you know him and love him from both Frostmaw's Titans of Winter and as a former champion of the Larketian Heroes of Freedom, let me hear you scream for Mathollak!" (ooc: Math, intro if you'd like, can be a hand-wave or detailed, doesn't factor into the duel itself)

Lanara enters the arena alongside her reindeer companion, with a scowl on her fair face. “Why are you here? Don’t you prefer Frostmaw, where it’s nice and cold and you can hook up with others of your kind?” She loves the deer but he happens to be a nuisance at times and he lives to embarrass her and her husband. Tiber. If only -he- were here instead of her rude animal escort, she wouldn’t be in this predicament! Thinking to shush the deer, she buys a huge bucket of popcorn before she finds a seat at the end of an aisle. Rude-Off lumbers after her and his eyes glaze over as he sets his sights on the beautiful songstress.

Meri hangs out near Khitt. She forces Magik to do the same. "Forces". Like he doesn't like Khitt too.

Mathollak :: His corner was highlighted, but Mathollak was nowhere to be seen! Even after he’s announced, the people survey the space with their eyes, checking the obvious spots. Then the concession stands, the bar. Where could he be? Then a voice calls out from above. “The arena really does add ten stone doesn’t it!” It’s Mathollak, balancing on a black chain stretching across part of the arena. His magical super-strength granting belt glitters golden now, making him apparent. “Twenty stone seems like a lot. I don’t know how much that is, but it seems like a lot. That’s all I’m sayin’!” How did he get up there anyway? Pure gumption, that’s all. The better question is, how can he balance like that? He cannot. After posing heroically for a moment, the taut chain starts to bounce and waver under him, but before he can look like a failure, he unhooks his greataxe called the Piecemaker, enchanted to be especially good at breaking things, and cuts the chain. Most of it lies ahead of him, and when he falls, he grabs onto the end with one hand. He plummets to the floor, looking for sure like he’s definitely doomed to be a puddle. Then the chain straightens out, becomes taut again, and takes him sailing just inches above the ground, in a massive loop around the inside of the arena walls. That was enough spectacle, so he dips the blade of the axe into the arena’s floor to create functional breaks. A cloud of dust and muck obscures him, but once its settled, he’s standing tall with a steaming stone mug raised above his head. “To the people of Vailkrin, Delisha loves you!” And he drinks the molten brew bestowed upon him by the Dark Mother. Almost immediately, the changes in his physiology begin to become apparent. From his bare hands, to his forearms, to what you can see of his shoulder; under his heart-patterned button-up (which isn’t in fact, buttoned up) colored with a few different shades of red, and under his fishnet tanktop, his skin seems at times to glow with bright green markings. As her boon makes its way through his body, the marks can be seen just under his mid-thigh length white shorts, between the rest of his leg and his boots. It might be in other places too but you can’t see them yet. The contract. He grins wickedly and tosses the cup behind him (clamoring fans fight over it, looking for his spit). With a sharp yank, he pulls the rest of the chain out of its setting, where it jingles into a pile at his feet. Finally he turns to Reginae, the prettiest snake lady he ever saw, and waits for the dinner bell to ring.

Quintessa || "And in this corner, you'll see the reason we had to hire extra security tonight, it's because we have the beautiful queen of Alithrya in the flesh, and another Heroes of Freedom champion! That's right, it's a battle of the champions tonight in Vailkrin! Everyone put your hands and claws together for the ravishing Reginae!" (ooc: Regi, mi amor, your intro please!)

Kasyr is present this time around, the swordsman having found a spot to spectate that was within arms reach of a grub vendor. Of the literal variety- given they're roasted grublings on a stick. Horrible little things, but they do, in fact, taste like chicken- if you can get over the texture.

Mesdoram is lurking.... stalking... circling the bowl-like arena yet to be filled with blood... they are crazy. "They ALL Called me Crazy!!" The drow shouts as he paces slowly around the arena. Parting with Nariv has brought the drow into a state of solice... or absurdity.

Mathollak looks for Papa Thrug in the stands, was he even on his feet yet?

Khitti || Khitt is def here. Mostly. There's a smirk given to Meri and a nod to Magik as they sit near him. Whether or not he does anything more than that depends on whether or not his writer falls asleep because it's storming outside and is nice sleeping weather.

Reginae slithers into the Arena like she hasn’t been locked away from the rest of the world listening for possessed snails to deliver orders from a giant leviathan that fell from the sky. Crazy. Long, white scales comprise the massive tail her humanoid torso rests on. Scales twist and gleam in the various sources of light, coiling around her until humanoid legs appear where once a tail had been. To those who might remember her appearance in the Heroes of Freedom tournament, she looks painfully the same; a lithe humanoid with a long white braid trailing down her back. Twin daggers adorn her hips and a black vambrace with gold studs sits snugly on her left wrist. While her stature isn’t impressive on it’s own, it hides the strength, speed and resistances well beyond human capabilities. A gold and white band is wrapped around her forearm; a show of Alithryian colors. She watches her opponent’s entrance with curious azurite eyes. “You know,” She grins, “This might be more fun than I thought.” (How da heck am I supposed to follow that Math LOL)

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 hosts may decide for you. Judges please keep in contact with us during this match, if three judges have not been selected yet I will appoint people to fill the remaining slots.”

Leoxander was feeling a bit of dejavu as he approached the Dark Arena from the shadowed streets of Vailkrin. A leather jacket forfeit for a fitted tank style shirt sometimes referred to with a derogatory term, despite the chill that just seemed to exist there, even in the peak of a warmer season. Ink depiction covering most of his upper torso, it bled through the thin, fitted fabric front and back, also giving some visibility to the row of sutures snaking down from shoulder blade to lower back in a jagged diagonal line. Speaking of snakes… the rogue arrived just in time to see Mathollak’s entrance. Oh and yes there was a naga opponent, too. Slowing his pace, he waited until Loravelle picked where they were going to sit, taking a last drag from his cigarette to drop and crush it under the tread of his boot as he continued forward and allowed blue eyes to sweep across the crowd, seeing the trio of sisters and husband while the screams from the drow cause his brow to furrow during a glance his way, too. But it was the smooth gliding motion of white that he focused on when he finally settled in beside the Mouse, the memory of Reginae dim but far less unpleasant than any of his encounters with the blood knight.

Brennia is forced to be here. Well, she was asked in a way that suggested she is meant to come as Regi’s esteemed guest. It has been a month since she’s been outside of Alithrya dealing with the Queen’s mind and trying to tug her back into reality. Yozenra sits with Bre, but it is more of a guarding gesture than conversing with the avian. Brennia promised she would help Queen Reginae and she is simply seeing to it. The avian is unsure why the Queen insisted she wear a stark white wrap dress with a decorative gold hemline as if she’s Alithrya’s property. I mean, she is- whether she wants to admit it or not, Even her hair has been styled by some of Reginae’s staff, making it straight and pulling it to the crown of her head in a long heavy ponytail that is so tight it’s starting to give her a headache. Brennia is nervous and her wings shift, advertising her unease as her solid teal gaze is locked on the arena for now. Funny how the extra security is made up of Alithrya warriors and it makes her wonder who they are trying to keep out… or better yet, keep in. She glances about the crowd, seeing some familiar faces, starting to plot in her mind how she’s going to give Yozenra the slip to talk to some of them.

Leoxander makes that quad, as he spotted the foxkin among the family group.

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

Reginae said, "Ready!"

Lanara is glad that she’s wearing a black dress, because she’s sure to have sweat stains after seeing the naga enter the arena. Rude-Off abruptly lifts his head from the bucket of popcorn and screams at the top of his lungs, “Let’s get ready to RUMBLEEEEEEEEEE!” Clearly, he enjoys seeing a little bloodshed. The mildly mortified witch swats at his butter smeared nose and snaps, “Would you please be quiet?! Could you maybe embarrass me a little less than usual?” Lana rolls her eyes and looks around at her fellow spectators, apologizing for the disruption with a half shrug and a smile.

Mathollak said, "Ready"

Environmental Challenge

Quintessa || With both duelists in place, mysterious robes figures begin to file in around the arena each carrying a clay jar covered with a lid. Once they had spaced themselves equally apart the robed figures all placed the jars on the ground and awaited orders. Seeing this, Saorsa raises her hand to issue an order but a new cloaked figure steps beside her and stops her, hood dropping to reveal none other than Countess Quintessa herself. “Allow me,” the changeling coos to the vampire, a hand raising in mystical effort to cast a spell. “Tywyllwch.” As she speaks this word a dark veil of magic covers the entire arena like a dome, dimming the light until it was difficult- but not impossible, to see. Not a moment after the battlefield was shrouded in darkness the robed figures all removed the tops of the jars, releasing dozens of baleful spirits and wraiths into the shadows. Lurking, stalking, and hungering for their life energies, these wraiths would make this fight that much more difficult. “You may begin.” (ooc: duel start)

Mesdoram keeps circling mumbling incoherently into the void... until he sees Magik... seeing that he might be in trouble sitting next to Meri and Khitt. Before being his venture to warn Magik about the looming threats, the drow begins hastily scribbling a dire warning on a piece of parchment. Throughout writing, he nervously keeps checking on Magik with frantic looks of panic! (looking at his paper, then Magik, then back to his paper!) Heroicly, the drow ventures through the crowded arena, drops the letter right next to Magik, and runs away being all stealth like… nailed it.

Loravelle hurries behind Leo partly to sort of use his larger frame as some kind of meat shield because it's Vailkrin, and she's still not a big fan of the place, and also to sneak holding his hand. She doesn't miss Mathollak's entrance and she can't help her laugh. But if he's fighting, and Leo seems to be letting her choose where they sit...Her eyes search the crowd, and there he is, grey-haired and a little hunched over just like she remembers him. Papa Thrug. Her face lights up, and she squeezes Leo's hand while weaving her way past other people to sit next to the big orc elder. This might be a bit odd for the rogue to witness since he's never really seen her hang around orcs that she's friendly with, but here goes. Her usual shy behavior is gone. Mostly. “Papa!” She throws her arms around him in the most awkward hug she can given the nonplussed look on his face (he's a serious guy) and then she sits down right next to him. She says something in Orcish to him about how his boy is gonna do great and look at how talented he is, and then she gestures over to Leo to introduce him. “Leo, this is Papa Thrug.”

Khitti || Everything was good and fine and Khitt had gotten into his whiskey bottle again (and of course offered some to Meri and Magik). That is, until Quintessa herself showed up as a part of the match. He could feel Khitti bristling within the back of their shared mind, and that cold rage of his began to ice over his previously calm and collected demeanor. "What the frakking hell is she doing here?!" His grip on the neck of the bottle tightened, threatening to break it.

Meri was happy to sit and share whiskey with both brother and husband. Though Khitt's reaction to Quintessa's presence does have Meri lifting a brow. What in the heck had Meri missed?

Tiber plows his way through people. Originally, the man was set up in his new office in Enchantment, but since his extroverted wife decided she wanted to go to -Vailkrin-, of all choices, for a brawl, he decides to play catch up after he forced her to hang out with the reindeer. Plus, he realized he liked a good fight. The man shuffled into the arena before spotting the Kelvarian. Tiber makes his way up behind the witch before placing his face down near her ear and saying a simple, charming, wiggle-brow, “Hi,” before he gets into the place next to her. “I changed my mind. I’m here.”

Quintessa stares blankly ahead, her fringe uneven and tangled and her eyes sunken in her face. She slowly scans the crowd and very briefly makes eye contact with Khitt but only lingers a moment before moving on.

Mesdoram eats these constantly... might have something to do with the visions of ghosts, wraiths, and a flying Quintessa. Thank goodness these are just mirages.

Lanara is seriously considering that she should leave as Rude-Off inches forward and wipes his muzzle on the back of some haughty woman in an expensive dress. She came to place a hefty bet and will walk away with much more than she bargained for, as there’s a mixture of drool, snot, butter, and popcorn kernels stuck to the fabric. Lana covers her mouth to stifle her giggles when a familiar husky voice whispers in her tapered ear and she turns to place a quick kiss to Tiber’s lips, “You’re here!” The reindeer is momentarily forgotten as she sidles closer to her husband and holds his hand, her gaze trailing over his handsome face before she motions to the ring, “Who are we placing our money on tonight? Snake girl or the fat man?” She’s already forgotten both of the contestants names.

Kasyr had been all but poised to try his hand at consuming one of those questionable comestibles- but the appearance of the veritable hostess is enough to give him pause. With a crackle of sparks, and fluid flick of his wrist, a scalpel slips out from where it's stored in his coat- and into his grasp. Only- there was still other considerations, weren't there. Khitti, to be sure- but Karasu as well. It's the sort of frustrating internal deliberation that can even make grubling appetizing. Or start to. That texture really is hard to get over.

Khitti || Khitt managed to catch that raised eyebrow out of the corner of his eye. "She betrayed Khitti again, betrayed all of us. She chose to work with Caluss and helped ambush us at the Xalious tree." His line of sight shifted away from his sister and over to the girl Khitti had chosen to be her daughter. "She's apparently been with that insect this entire time. Sent assassins after Khitti. She was attacked while trying to keep the thralls at bay in Frostmaw and again in Cenril, while Valrae and the witches healed the zombies." But there had been something curious though--the gloves left behind after the Gloom died had been the perfect loot for Khitt, and he fully intended on using them in his fight against Gorehilt. "I don't know what the hell her game is though... After the first creature died, it left behind gloves that were clearly made by her. The second creature... seems to have some sort of humanity, despite its appearance." The conflict between wanting to tear Tessa apart and welcoming her back was obvious.

Leoxander felt his attention divided in several directions. Yes, it was a bit of an initial confusion when Loravelle hurried to hug the orc, but then again, he knew of some of her exploits in the Gualon swamps. Quintessa’s arrival is also noticed by the pirate, though without much animosity, his eyes following the direction of her motion toward the darkened arena as those robed individuals release their wraiths. Lora’s introduction to Papa Thrug reels in a look from Leo toward the grayed orc and he raises his unshaven jaw in acknowledgement, seated at the book keeper’s other side. “Hey.” A simple stated word for a hello, not really knowing if the male had some esteemed rank among the tribe, not that it would have brought any groveling or appreciation from him. Lanara and Tiber are given a look whether noticed or not before returning to watch the brawl about to start, a flask removed from where it was tucked between waistline and spine, though it was more for some casual drinking than nerves, today. It was the first duel of the tournament where he wasn’t plagued by the sight of spiders, giant or otherwise. He could sense a similar fear from a fellow wolf in her black dress and had to assume Reginae might be the cause - though the queen wasn’t particularly an eyesore, despite her scaled design.

The Duel

23:43:42Reginae watches as the jars and spirits render the arena in an inky shroud. Oh goody. The wail of the spirits helps her determine the location of the retreating robed fingers and then, finally, her opponent. A snake’s tongue flicks out between her lips, using her snake sense of smell to assist. Staying low, Reginae’s black boots kick up dirt and grime in her wake. The bodies on the floor make silent travel difficult. Through the dark, she slices forward and out with her blades. Metal meets metal as she grinds the sparking daggers together. A flash of light marks her position and forces a sickle shaped blade of wind out in the direction she thinks Mathollak is in. The winds push away other debris or body parts in its wake, aimed at waist height. Staying low, she keeps her pace, waiting to see if her quarry is indeed where she’d predicted. In a flash, she sheathes her daggers back on her hips, kicking backwards to throw herself back towards what she thinks is the center of the arena. When she lands, steam starts to float off her fingertips as they morph into thrashing whips. The short ranged weapons tear at the already shattered ground where Mathollak made his entrance. Skulls, bones and rocks are hurled into the air. They hit the thrashing whips on the way back down, scattering the projectiles around the arena in all directions. Her boots twist into the dirt to stabilize herself. One of the baleful spirits screeches and dives for her. Normally, she’d kick it in the face but, come on she just did the thing with her boots. Pulling one whip fingered hand away from the ground, she swipes up like swatting away a fly. The wraith howls, swearing revenge before vanishing back to the shadows.

Tiber notices the fabric of the woman in front of them. He side-eyes Rude-Off before kissing the witch in return. “I am. “Work shmirk. Who needs it,” he waves a hand. The man looks at the ring before pushing his lips out. “Don’t you hate snakes? Shouldn’t we go with the man?”

Brennia doesn’t like the look of the jars one bit as gooseflesh rises along her skin and the feathers of her wings fluff out somewhat, making them appear like a couple of fluffy black masses behind her. She swallows hard and fiddles with the diamond jeweled cuff at her bicep even more nervously when the lights dim, but once those spirits are released, she stands while folding both of her hands in front of her chest. Even though Regi doesn’t remember her, Brennia sure as heck remembers the Queen as her dear friend. She feels cool slender fingers guide her to sit back down and then slink away just as fast. That worries her in a different way now and she stands again, offering that dimpled sweet smile, “I’m just going to get us refreshments, want anything?” She watches Yozenra simply nod to one of the other naga in a gesture to go in Brennia’s place while pulling the antsy bard back down on the cushioned seat in the Queen’s luxurious personal spectators box. Her heartbeat quickens as a pit opens up in her stomach as the reality is settling in that she isn’t a celebrated guest as they’ve led her to believe, she is a prisoner in a gilded cage.

Loravelle squints. Curse her normal, human sight. She can hardly see a thing in the arena. With a slight frown, she leans over to Leo to ask, hushed even if it really isn't necessary to be so quiet. It's a tournament after all. “What's happening down there?”

Meri :: If anyone else had been telling Meri this story, she would not have believed it. But it was Khitt and Meri had no reason to doubt the guy. There was talk about betrayal and assassins being sent after her sister. Meri was not entirely sure what to think or how to feel, so she furrows her brows. Besides, what were they going to do about it in this exact moment? Right now? Mid-duel?

Quintessa is distinctly emotionally detached from the situation as she stands next to the announcers’ table, her hands folded behind her back as she watches in silence. The changeling knew it was dangerous to show herself her, but she did it anyway, a sign of confidence or folly. Or both. A few people of note catch her attention, Leoxander among them, but none hold her attention as long as Brennia’s stark white dress did. Quintessa stares at it for an unusually long time before taking a step back in the shadows to further obfuscate herself from the crowd.

Lanara frowns when Tiber mentions that she hates snakes, because it’s not so much that she despises them but she -fears- them. The forked tongue. That sinister slither. The fact that they are cold blooded and will strike without much warning. They make the -worst- pets too, she’s been told, as they carry many diseases and it’s not a matter of -if- they will bite, it’s -when- they will bite. Lana shivers in place when Reginae flicks her tongue out to taste the air, proving her point. “I’m terrified of snakes, yes… Okay, we will go with the chubby guy, then.” Two stones is likely heavy, right? At least compared to the tiny witch who has never been great at mathematics. Lana forces her gaze away from Reginae before she faints, and she spies Leoxander glancing their way. A hand is lifted to wave at Leo and Lora, and the sentiment is also offered to Meri who happens to catch Lana’s gaze, too.

Khitti || It didn't look like Khitt was going to do anything about it at the moment. Well, besides drink angrily about it. Eventually, he'd sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "If she even had an inkling of what she's put her mother through psychologically, I wonder if she might've chose differently. Things are not going to be made easy for her, however, whenever all of this is said and done. If Khitti can even figure out what the hell to do with her in the first place."

Leoxander shook his head slightly with his low murmured reply. “Not sure, yet. But if Quintessa’s here it ain’t good news for them.” He could hear the howl of angry spirits, somehow. They probably all could courtesy of some necromancy or whatever the source of that dark magic was, specifically. Straightening his posture only slightly from a slouch, he offered the flask to Loravelle in case she wanted to indulge in a drink, idly rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand for the slight prickle of hair-standing-on-end sensation. He hadn't caught sight of the inked avian or her 'companions', but that low-class seating gave a better view of the arena than it did the box seating on high.

Mesdoram seems to snap out of his psychosis for a few moments, and returns to his brooding and smoldering intensity. Seeing a lot of potential paying customers here, the drow begins handing out flyers to his play. "Cenril... Khitti's Gothic Garden... bring all your money." Are some of the common phrases repeated to his potential patrons.

Tiber squints as they are calling the man in the arena the ‘chubby guy’, but really? He knows the habit of his wife’s recall of names. It was terrible. Tiber watches where Lanara’s gaze goes and it falls on the pirate and the book keeper. He offers a peaceful nod their way before returning attention to the arena where he watches the action go down.

Meri presses red lips together as she listens to Khitt, blue-eyed gaze once more shifting to Quintessa. She noticed the way that the changeling was emotionally detached toward a bulk of the crowd. Had Tessa even reacted to Khitt's presence? Or Meri's? Or Magik's? A brow is lifted but she says nothing to Khitt, for Meri was certain of nothing right now. Her attention does swivel back to the duel, though.

00:03:37Mathollak hardly noticed the robed figures spilling in and taking their spots around the arena, such was the intensity of his focus. But he could -feel- the ravenous hunger of the things filling up the shadows. Their hunger was insatiable, wasteful, wanton, and gluttonous. Mathollak loved it. He can’t differentiate between them and the shadows, but as darkness begins to encroach around him, he whispers his prayer. The totem of Delisha that hangs around his neck begins to glow crimson, soft at first, wavering. As if it could go out at any second. But no, light suddenly explodes out of it, bathing the space in front of him in a red light, if only for a few seconds. But that was enough time for him to see the host of hungry guests in the form of menacing silhouettes, as well as Reginae moving stealthily toward him, and the scythe of wind carving a path in the deathly debris scattered around the arena. In a feat of moderate athleticism, Mathollak dolphin dives into muk, narrowly avoiding a sudden decapitation and closing the distance between him and her. Continuing with his momentum, he rolls and rises to his feet, heaving the heavy chain he stripped from the ceiling into a massive arc around his head. The luminous glow born on his chest travels to the chain, creating a strobing effect around the arena that occasionally reveals his enemies to him, and in the case of the wraiths, keeps them at bay.. He smiles broadly as he brings his arm down, causing the chain to alter its course wildly. It arcs once more over his head, before the wave of momentum whips it toward Reginae as she rains crud all over him, he’ll weather it as best he can. His aim to ensare her with the chain, as midway through its course, the links grow nasty barbs that would hook clothes and skin and bone alike. Whether or not he can ensnare her, he’ll tear the chain back. The effects of it being dragged across flesh would no doubt be sickening.

Loravelle nods. The name causes a slight narrow of her brows, if only because Ina disguised herself as that person when she was gifted that embarrassing box long ago. She gladly takes the flask Leo offers and takes a drink as she feels her face turn red at the memory. “Where is that box anyway?” Lora asks next, partly to distract herself from the nightmarish noise of whatever lurked in the darkness down there. She doesn't give the flask back just yet, deciding to take another drink first. Seeing Lana wave has Lora waving right back, to the pretty witch and Tiber as well.

Lanara doesn’t seem to be too bothered by the wraiths and dark magic that’s floating around the arena, but the fact that a snake-woman is in the ring leaves her unsettled. Rude-Off belches loudly and a few people turn in their direction, “Watch the duel! Stop staring at me!” Lana isn’t taking kindly to the dirty looks they’re getting, and her annoyance bleeds onto poor Mesdoram. The guy hands her a flier about some performance and she quirks a brow, “Aren’t you a little -old- to be in a play?” She cannot recall seeing him at any of the Bard’s Guild meetings or at the University in Schezerade. Lana knows all the best performers, so he’s either a shoddy one or acting with a bunch of kids. She hands the flier back with a shake of her head and returns her attention to the duel.

Khitti said to Mesdoram, "Tick tock, tick tock. You take too long with writing this play and the Mistress of the Goth Garden will take back what she said about letting you use the garden--and letting you live, for now." 00:14:42Mesdoram makes his way passing out all the flyers he can until he reaches some familiar faces - Meri, Magik, and Khitt. The drow hands each one of the a promo with the usual, "Cenril... Khitti's Gothic Garden... bring all your money." Mesdoram lingers a bit though when he hands Meri a copy, adding "Make sure to bring your good looking elf friend with you." while head nodding to Magik. The drow then leaves to go spread the word of Sin's next big play.

Brennia gives up on trying to wave anyone down she might know because the guards would probably block entrance to anyone else. Concern for herself, but mostly Reginae (as messed up as that would seem), knits her perfectly arched and feathered brows together. As if Yozenra can sense the avian's sudden realization, Brennia picks up on the naga leaning towards her ever so slightly to whisper, “listen, all you have to do is sit here and look pretty. Then it’s back to Alithrya and your harp,” but Brennia fakes the smile she’s gotten so good at and a short raspy chuckle escapes her. “Can’t wait, but I hope she- our Queen wins,” and her eyes are glued back onto the arena. At least maybe she can come up with a better plan by then… to escape? No, she promised to help Reginae. Brennia lets out a pitiful small whine and winces when Mathallock snaps his whips at Reginae because that is a pain she knows all too well. Her wings start shaking subtly like a leaf.

Meri responds to Mesdoram with a point smile, accepting the flyer in an usually graceful manner...given how much disdain she usually displays toward Mesdoram. "We'll be there, a play sounds like an excellent reason for a date night."

Mesdoram said to Khitti, "*halting in his walk away, the drow turns back to you directly* If she wishes not to make money by sitting on her butt and literally doing nothing, that's her lost - not mine. *the drow smirks and continues his walk awaying*"

00:21:37Reginae ’s whipping tendrils continue their wanton assault until the earth birth’s Mathollak like an unholy blast of strobing light. As the chain strobes, pushing back the hungry whisps, the whips that were her fingertips pull back. Normal, humanoid phalanges help block the light but small blisters start to appear on the surface of her skin. Aramoth help her. Adding to the cluster, the chain sinks like a stone in her direction. Reginae interlocks her fingers and keeps her feet planted at an angle. An shadowy slab forms and hardens to a shining metal about the size of a buckler over her linked hands. She lowers her center of gravity, wound tight as a spring, for the chain’s landing. Before contact, she pushes off the ground and knocks against the chain with the shadow buckler. It’s knocked off course, a few barbs separating and flying back at her. Two lodge themselves in left arm, near her vambrace. She howls in pain, pivoting away to the cover of darkness to regroup. Unsheathing her daggers, she digs the blades into the ground, causing a massive wound to spread across the mucky arena. As the dehiscenced arena floor quakes with movement, bones and bodies are pulled up and launched into the air like a foul smelling gorge cannon. The necromancy from the leviathan really came in handy. Each creature’s jagged bones and teeth are oozing inky blood. Acting like acid, the blood will eat away at skin, cloth and metal with indifference. Under the cover of her undead geyser, Reginae holds herself in shadow, on the side of the arena.

Khitti || Khitt looked like he was going to strangle his whiskey bottle again after Mesdoram walked away. "Why haven't we killed him yet, Meri?" He'd try to do it now, but... duel.

Leoxander turned his head to look from Mesdoram to the parchment and back again, but he made no move to take the parchment, returning his gaze to the fight as he answered Lora in a low spoken tone before reaching to take the flask back for another drink. “Why? You gonna finally make some use’o it?” Despite the noise of battle and spectators, a particular whine did draw the rogue’s attention over his shoulder toward the white clad woman in the box, equally sharp eyes barely able to make out the subtle details of her expression. There was plenty of surrounding fear to be sensed and it was too jumbled together to designate hers. Not to mention the fact that the reindeer was proving an unwanted distraction for more than Lanara. That reminded him that he hadn’t eaten that day. Perhaps he could be a solution to the witch’s problem.

Mesdoram looks at Lanara a bit with a perplexed expression. Seeing how he wants to see everyone attend his masterpiece, he attempts to break the ice and bridge the tension with peace and tranquil resolve. "You are not allowed to come now." Mesdoram rips the flyer out of Lanara's hands. "NO PLAY FOR YOU!" The drow continues on his way... the customer is not always right. 00:32:25Mesdoram said to Leoxander, "*gives you a mirrored gaze matching your rudeness* Aren't you the one who ended up stabbing my slave in my last play? You get in for free! *Mes gives you a special flyer that reads VIP Pass - drinks paid for buy Khitti's Goth Garden*"

Meri said to Khitti, "Soon, probably. We just can't leave Magik out of the fun. It's a thing now."

Loravelle finds herself paying more attention to the chaos going on around them than the duel itself since it's easier to see, but primarily she focuses on Leo. She tries to mask her embarrassed look and grimace. “...No, I just want to know where it is.” Her face is still red and she still wanted to set that box on fire. She wants that flask back, and reaches to take it from the rogue again, but stops short at Mesdoram's words to him. He stabbed a slave? Her embarrassed demeanor abruptly shifts, visibly shocked at those words. “You...you did what?”

Valrae arrives late. This is nothing new. She’s accompanied by several more guards than before. They make no effort to disguise themselves or hide the swords they carry. She’s wearing a conservative design from Cenril’s Dannile La Vurstenbrea, renowned for her bold and bright patterns and elegant silhouettes. Her features are glamoured to appear dewy and flawless, free of the burns that still marked her face and neck. The witch stops at the concessions to order herself a beer before heading toward the stands. She waves at those familiar, saving a toothy grin for Meri and Khitt in particular, before picking a seat near Kasyr. “Who is winning?” She asks sweetly, offering him a soft smile. If she’d seen Quintessa on her way in, she wasn’t mentioning it.

Tiber does the eye shift when Lanara starts to go on about Mesdoram not being a little kid and he should not be performing plays. Tiberius bites his tongue and sucks his lips in to hold the bite of laughter back at his blunt wife. The ripping of the advertisement has Tiberius sent and he cannot help but cackle. "No play for you."

Brennia hears Reginae howl in pain and her heart becomes gripped in fear. Both herself and Yozenra are pressed to the railing of the Queen’s luxury box seating. Whenever Mesdoram gets around to trying to pedal his play at the club seating areas, Brennia can spot him approaching and she watches curiously. “Back off,” a rather muscular naga warrior warns in his sandpaper timbre and he rises up on his tail which resembles a huge rattlesnake’s to make himself taller and impose against the puny drow. Brennia gently clears her throat and the guard looks over his shoulder briefly because he can’t stand avians, especially this whiny one! He has orders though and snatches a flyer from Mesdoram for Brennia before nudging him to keep moving, preferably far away from the Queen’a property. If Mesdoram affords a look to Brennia, she would just shoot him a kind smile while holding onto the advertisement before carefully folding it up and tucking it away in the hidden satchel between her back and wings.

Meri responds to Valrae's toothy grin with a knowing wink, lifting a flask of whiskey toward the recently appointed Mayor of Cenril in greetings.

Syrri was only kind of here, but she somehow managed to squeeze in between other duel-observers, or even climbed atop someone's shoulders for a better vantage point from which to cheer enthusiastically at the duelists.

Khitti || Khitt grumbled at Meri's mention of having to wait for Magik. Sure, fine. They can make Mesdoram's death a whole family affair. He forced a smile for Valrae, then went back to staring daggers at Quintessa for now. Anything to get his mind off of that annoying as hell drow.

Lanara drops Tiber’s hand and parts her lips in awe at the audacity of Mesdoram, “I didn’t plan on attending anyway!” He tells her that she’s now uninvited from the garden based event and Lana rolls her eyes and shakes her head as he tears the advertisement and wanders off to harass someone else. Tiber is dying of laughter and she gently elbows him, “Shush. This night is not at all as I expected!” At least it’s somewhat keeping her fears of the snake at bay. To Rude-Off, she mutters, “Why couldn’t you have mule kicked that stupid drow? I love how you are eager to embarass me and wreak havoc but the second I need you to act like a fool, you decide to behave?!”

Kasyr isn't that far from the concession stand, given he'd somehow managed to finish his first roasted grubling, and now angrily biting through a second. That said, given Valrae's prior incidences of squeamishness, the swordsman at least has the sense to stop tearing into it when she turns to address him- the horrible snackfood launched in an arbitrary direction so he can properly address the newly minted mayor. "A bit too soon to say- But it's a fittingly macabre scene, all the same." There's a pause, before the Kensai casually adds, "Feeling better? Heard you took quite the tumble."

00:42:09Mathollak pulls his back his chain, catching nothing on his fishing expedition but disappointment. Then he stalks the place in the shadows where he last saw her, accompanied by an entourage of hungry wraiths, their teeth bared in hungry grins. As is his. Suddenly, the ground under him is broken, and bodies fly out of it, eager to be broken to pieces. The first shatters against Mathollak’s axe as he times a wild rainbow shaped smash, and catches it just above his head. A mistake, the acidic blood rains over him causing the flesh on his face and upper body to sizzle and bubble. But as the layers of his skin are revealed, the magic of Delisha’s boon pumping through his veins seems to see it as an opportunity. His blood seeps out viscously, and hardens over his wounded flesh giving him a ghastly and monstrous visage. And the hail of death doesn’t stop. He needs an umbrella. The ground abruptly, he drops his weapons both, and plunges his hands into one enormous wedge of rock. His own strength wasn’t enough, but the belt of freedom he wears around his waist gave him the strength of giants, and he’s able to lift the massive chunk over his head like it was a pillow. Forsaking the chain, the red glowing light returns once more to his chest. Dead things fall and bounce off his umbrella, while at the edge of his glowing light, he can see the shadows moving toward one particular spot in the shadows. Unable to get through his holy light, they turned their ravenous hunger toward Reginae, seeking to swarm her. But they also told him where she was, and without another second’s delay, he hurls the massive boulder into the darkness, where without his light, it seems to disappear. It’s aimed at her, with enough strength to throw it on a line, rather than an arc. Whether he hits her or not, he cannot tell, not without being closer.

Leoxander raised a brow at Mesdoram’s question. He vaguely remembered the scene where doors had been barricaded and people were dying. Sounded like something he might do. But that ‘free drinks courtesy of Khitti’ mentioned on the flier was probably the only thing that truly interested him. Mostly to move the man along, he took the parchment and folded it up without bothering to study it much. Although he teasingly withdrew the flask from Lora’s reach at first, her question was met with a shrug and he forfeit it back. “Pro’lly…” He also handed the folded paper to the Mouse. “...What? Quit lookin’ at me like that…” It was a mercy killing. Or at least that’s what he would tell himself. He’d watched Valrae pass by to the cool-kids-group before steeled blue fixed back on the fight, a shift of his weight to one side made in order to remove the wooden box of rolled, herb-laced cigarettes and a box of matches that he rattled to hear empty. Unlit smoke between his lips, he muttered a four-lettered curse.

Mesdoram flashes a vicious grin at the Naga as he is order to back down like a lapdog. “Good boy. Sit!” The drow taunts the taller creature showing no fear. As the guard takes one of the flyers without anymore qualms, Mesdoram does infact look through the entourage at Brennia – winking playfully at the avian, Mesdoram offers some oddly kind words for Bre. “Thank you. I hope to see you there, sweet stuff.” Sweet stuff? Mesdoram quickly looks back at the Naga still gripping and moaning, and displays his middle finger as a taunt. “If you come, I will make you into my new boots… so please do attend.” With that, the drow is seemingly out of patrons to give papers too and elects to sit down with his back turned to Brennia.

Valrae pretends not to have noticed the horrid snack fly into the face of an innocent bystander, secretly endeared that Kasyr was willing to part with it to spare her sensibilities. She tilts her head, dark eyes moving toward the battlefield. Spirits and blood and violence. Macabre indeed, and a love letter to Vailkrin. “Hmm,” The witch replies vaguely. When he mentions her ‘tumble’, the witch instinctually touches the crescent moon pendant of Vaalane around her neck. Valrae could feel the magic pulsing from the cool gold, telling her the illusions were still firmly in place. “Something like that.” She turns back to Kasyr, pausing to take a long pull from her beer. “Would you believe Lanlan saved me? I might have died when I fell from the tree.”

Loravelle feels blindsided and is at a loss for what to say, but she takes the folded paper at least. She doesn't unfold it to read, instead letting it rest in her lap while watching Leo. Armed with two hidden emergency flasks in her robes as well as smokes, she also had matches just in case. After fishing the box out of her pocket she strikes a match for him to light his smoke.

Lanara diverts her gaze from the ring when Mathollak’s face bubbles from the corrosive rainfall. The lycan that flows through her veins enables her to see fairly well in the dimly lit arena, despite the dark magic that’s floating in the air. She feels a bit nauseous as the layers of Math’s face are unveiled so she looks at the crowd to see their take on the duel and she momentarily locks eyes with Brennia. The avian looks lovely in a white gown and Lana lifts a hand to wave, accompanied by her signature smile which is reserved solely for friends. Lana then looks back to check on Leo and Lora and finds the pirate to be lighting up. Meri is still seated where she was earlier, except Kasyr and Valrae have joined her party, and the witch offers them a wave, too.

Kasyr might be down a snack, but it also means he's prevented from choking on the news that Lanlan had cast himself as the hero of that particular scene. It's only through his practice as a politician that he manages to keep his expression straight, an air of feigned interest painting his words, "Surprisingly bold of him." If he takes credit for the Kensais research, too, he's a dead man. "I suppose it's heartening to have a glimpse at his true character." That little worm. "No matter what airs he tries to put on." There's...maybe something a bit sharp about the smile on the kensais face- but it immediately ebbs away as he takes solace in the memory of cooking the mud-elf magus. "But what brings you here- the tourney, or more professional interests, et the avenue simply provides the opportunity?"

Leoxander tossed the empty box like a tiny frisbee into any nearby receptacle should there happen to be one in range. Otherwise it was just another piece of litter on the ground in the arena stands. Leaning into Lora’s offer, he pinched the lit smoke from his lips and snuck in a quick kiss under her ear for an unspoken thanks, hopefully sneaky enough that none of the duel’s spectators would spectate it. Turning his head to spit a fleck of dried herbs from the tip of his tongue between his lips, witnessing Mathollak’s interesting means of avoiding being buried in that debris. “Doesn’t anybody fight their own g’damn fights anymore?” Always with the shadows, the skeletons, the spiders. What next?

Khitti || Khitt would ask what exactly made him and Meri "the cool kids", but alas, he doesn't know what Leo was thinking. Oh well.

01:02:41Reginae || Panting hard, Reginae watches the macabre scene. The acid splashes his skin…and then it…hardens. With addition of the thorns in her left arm, the last attack left her a little more than winded. In response, the gash in the ground begins to sew itself back together, squelching and belching like a monstrous maw satisfied with it’s work. Back in the darkness, the specter chilled air bites at her exposed skin. The blisters on the skin graced with his light are blots of raging red, thankful for the drop in temperature. His holy light was a menace. A gust of air pushes her back. Deafening howls swarm around her. The wraith she’d spurned cackles, Reginae’s sure it’s the same one but don’t ask her how. Her left hand throws it’s dagger through the mist, the clatter catching the looming soul’s attention for a split second - or not. A few turn, dead-eyed and hungry for any scraps they could steal. Those who don’t descend like the hand of Aramoth himself. Reginae twists, her left arm a little less reactive, and the humanoid legs melt back into a snowy scaled tail. She uses the massive thing to swat away multiple wraiths but it’s not sustainable. Through the smoke flies a small island of a boulder. Like a batter at the plate, her tail takes much of the contact. She strains to smack the thing back but it’s weight mixed with her hit makes the rock split and shoot back towards Mathollak. It would have been a homerun if not for the dome! The wraiths scatter and Reginae scrambles back out into the cleared space to meet her attacker head on. Dipping and dodging the various destruction on the battlefield, she takes the dagger in her right hand and throws it towards her opponent's chest. If it hits, the weapon will pulse a shock wave through anything it touches. Dagger loose, she slithers behind him, trying to coil her bone crushing tail around his body. Fangs jut from her lips, and snap through the air. They’re aimed straight for his neck.

Brennia tries not to act on the drow’s flirtatious words and actions so she simply grins, but tries tucking her lips slightly to hide it. Of course she’s sporting some Vinabre Flawless Foundation so no one can really tell she is blushing, but the tips of her long pointed ears turn a shade of pink. The guard doesn’t budge from his spot, merely rolling his eyes and resigning to, “just move along,” with aggravation evident in his tone. Later on, Brennia would remember this moment because that very same guard ‘accidentally’ trips her on the way back to Alithrya while mentioning she can thank ‘good boy’ for that. She lets out a sharp gasp as she witnesses the boulder soar through the air towards Reginae and her arms wrap around one of the posts holding up the canopy above them. “Merde,” she gasps and then her gaze is stolen to the opponent, “what the perdere is that?!” She feels eyes on her and she spots Lanara offering a friendly wave. Brennia replies in kind, mostly, but she’s far too worried about Reginae at the moment. Then Regi hits the boulder in a home run and she cheers loudly along with Yozenra even though her raspy timbre sounds tired and weak.

Loravelle shifts uncomfortably in her seat, but stills at Leo's kiss. This really isn't the place to ask questions about what she just heard so she'll keep her mouth shut. Causing a scene isn't okay. As she isn't as sneaky or fast as the Wolf was, she opts for squeezing his hand if she can catch it in her grasp. It likely isn't enough to convey how she's truly feeling at that moment, but hopefully it still conveys that promise she once made to him, despite her reaction moments ago. She isn't going anywhere.

Mesdoram notices that the mayor of Cenril has made her way to the duel, and has to invite her the play hosted by yours truly! The drow makes haste and makes sure to acquire another flyer, and offers Lana's stolen promo to one of Val's many guards. "Mayor Val, as the drow who saved your live at the announcement of your victory, it would be my honor for you to attend my play at the Goth Garden later this summer." Looking at the guards scorning him, he finishes with his interaction with Mayor Val. "Bring all your money, please." With that, he scurries away to watch the rest of the bout.

Leoxander wishes he was as cool as Khitt. (Maybe it's the shades.)

Lanara catches a glimpse of Leo either whispering sweet nothings in his fiancee’s ear or placing a tender kiss upon her flesh. She’s not a voyeur so she cannot discern between a peck and words spoken. Naturally, it’s then that she glances back at the duelists and she nearly screams in fright. Reginae’s legs are gone and she’s now a full on naga-beast in the ring! Fangs are snapping and the snake tail is trying to coil around Mathollak! Lana whimpers and clings so tightly to Tiber’s arm that her nails dig into his flesh. She wants to head home -now- but she also cannot look away from the horrific scene that’s displayed.

Valrae seemed pleased with Kasyr’s response, none the wiser to the undercurrent of his thoughts or the sharpness of his smile. Instead, she nods agreeably. “I think so, yeah.” She’s turned to face him fully now, nearly forgetting the match as crosses her legs and leans closer to the revenant. “I mean… Well, I know you two don’t always get along,” She starts, giving him a look that is both sheepish and somehow apologetic. “But I think he’s come a long way. Don’t you?” Her tone suggests that she’s both trying to convince him and herself. So much for confidence. The look of shy apology returns when Kasyr asks what brought her to Vailkrin now. “Actually, I came because I was hoping to see you. We shouldn’t talk here but,” Valrae leans back in her seat again, hesitation spinning around them in a long, quiet pause filled with the sounds of the crowd and bloodshed. “Eventually, we should talk. You and me.. And Lan. He doesn’t know though,” Her smile is closer to a grimace now. “And maybe he wouldn’t agree if he did.” The witch hoped Kasyr was understanding the unspoken question between her careful explanation.

Meri wasn't entirely sure that Valrae and Kasyr had joined to Khitt and Meri. They might be on the hunt for snacks. Regardless, Lanara us greeted all the same. However, Meri continues her efforts to just mind her business and focus on the duel, given how quickly things got tense during the last duel. She did end up punching Mes, afterall.

Tiber sticks a finger in his ear when Lanara screams on cue of the snake tail going for the coil. Fingers dig into his skin and he lets out a loud, "Ow!" The man then tries to peel her claws out of his arm. "You -wanted- to be here! Rude-Off, can you please?!" Help him, he meant to say. Or maybe Tiber should cover her eyes, so he takes initiative to put a hand over her eyes. "Stop looking and freaking out."

Leoxander didn’t have any bets or best wishes for either opponent, really, but seeing Reginae transform was still an attention grabbing moment of the duel - even though the entire process so far had been well fought by either contestant. Whether Lanara screamed or almost made the sound, he was sure he wasn’t the only lycan that would feel that spike of fear and shot a look her way as Tiber sought assistance from a fricken reindeer to calm his wife. The look Leo let linger… then he shook his head and glanced at Lora, probably suspecting a ‘talk’ about the whole murder situation by the end of day, but for now he’d finish his cigarette and watch the brawl conclude.

Lanara frowns when Tiber scolds her and she is about to say something snarky in reply but finds that her eyes are now covered by her husband's hands. “How exactly is this going to help? I’m more afraid because I can’t see -where- the snake is and what’s going on!” This time she sinks her nails into his thigh as her pulse quickens and she struggles to breathe. A wicked panic attack is brewing. Rude-Off turns to see what’s the matter and he sticks his tongue out at the Catalian before snapping, “-You- are the genius that married her! Your problem now!”

Khitti || Khitt rolled his eyes at the screaming and continued on with his drink. If this, Mesdoram's continued existence, and Quintessa showing up randomly was going to be the way of things at these duels, he might be considering not coming to the next one.

01:23:38Mathollak has hardly a second to react. After his boulder disappears into the darkness, he hears the crack of her tail against his fastball. And then it comes back at him! Or half of it does anyway. He puts his hands up to brace himself, but even if he has the strength of a giant, he doesn’t have the weight. He’s knocked clean off his feet into the muck and blood and acid of the ground. In the horrible aftermath, his good arm has now become his bad arm. It doesn’t move, but he knows its there. It hurts too much to be gone. He pushes the boulder off himself, and almost as soon as he does, the wraiths try to swarm him as well, because not only did the rock mangle his arm, it also knocked his lights out. Or Delisha’s lights. But he has a secret weapon. Mathollak slides his new good hand to his opposite shoulder in a quick motion, pulling free the side-arm, formerly concealed by his shirt sleeve before it got ruined by acid. A celestial bronze cleaver, stripped from the corpse of a zealot of Aramoth, now serves Delisha’s favorite bad-boy. He hopes he’s her favorite anyway. With a single sudden and crushing swipe, the snaggle-toothed edge shreds an encroaching trio of hungry wraiths. And for just a moment, the residual gasses. Not for long though, because Mathollak inhales them like the wafts of a perfectly brewed stew. The smoky wisps fly up his nostrils and disappear. Then he rises to his feet, only to be met by a shimmering spark of an electrified dagger singing his way. It’s all he can do to pivot, and his unlucky arm is shifted into the path. It sticks there, piling on the pain, and worse? Stunning him. The shock renders him a delicious snack for the great snake that coils around him in what has to be the best hug he has ever received. Nearly helpless, but he gets his muscles back as she prepares to neck him. With his one good arm, he attempts a graceful caress with his viciously serrated cleaver, trying to drive it into her left shoulder. Not just as an attack, but to keep those teeth at bay. And from the depths of his belly, he bellows hot smoky breath at her. It billows violently out of his mouth, flecked with singing flame and the vitality sucking essence of the wraiths he imbibed moments prior.

Leoxander said to Lanara, "Hey." The wolf's word was like a quiet but sharp bark to grab hers and Tiber's attention. He was pretty damn aware of how that phobia feeling went. "...Yer a'right. Whole lot of us up here, savvy?"

Tiber does not like Rude-Off's attitude, and he catches Leo's stare which causes his expression to appear flat. The man keeps his hands over her eyes. "It's called trust. You told me to see a shrink, don't they do this in therapy? Trust me. I'll be your eyes." Her nails then sink into his thighs and he lets his hands go as he hisses to soak up the pain.

Mesdoram can since Meri's and Khitt's tensions, but can't quite pinpoint why they are aggravated... probably at Mesdoram, but something more too. Attempting to soothe some wounds, the drow offers the two the strongest whiskey he possesses and bows. "I hope your night improves."

Loravelle wishes she could be a little more helpful or present for the fight, and more importantly to try to help ease Lanara from her fears because she knew all too well what it was like to be afraid, but she's distracted by her own thoughts. It's the worst time to curl in on oneself and withdraw, but she's doing it. Leo may not be able to read her mind and she may not be able to read his, but he's absolutely right. There's going to be a talk later.

Kasyr can't help but look bemused in response to Valraes sincere entreaty- though it does have the merry side effect of making his expression a bit warmer then it had been, "Peut-etre, though, I'll admit my optimism is tempered by his penchant for bringing up the past- et complicating working together in the present." There's a shrug, before the Kensai adds, "There's a lot on his chest, even now.." Like those scars. "Still, despite his reservations, he -does- seem to be working with us." That said, where her entreaty towards Lanlan's treatment was expected, her acknowledgement that he was the purpose of her visit was less so. Moreover due to the reasoning, "...It became rather hard to miss, given how acutely aware I've become of you two." They had a bigger deathwish than him. "...How are you going to broach that with him?"

Tiber said to Leoxander, "She's fine." He's still rubbing out his thigh. "We've been through this before. And you don't need to worry." There is a minor temper under his breath because he is an overall grouch. "Don't underestimate her. She -will- make it through this." Eyes shift towards his wife, "We will make it through this."

Lanara tries to focus on Tiber’s voice when he tells her that he’s seeing a shrink and that she needs to trust him. If he’s her ‘eyes’ that’s great and all, but she’d rather see things with her -own- eyes, especially where her greatest fear is concerned. There’s no reasoning with the witch, but thankfully her nails do the talking and Tiber drops his hands from her face. Tears prick Lana’s eyes and she immediately looks at Reginae and Mathollak, catching the moment where the male happens to blow his flame breath in her direction. Leo’s voice captures her attention and she steals a split second to turn and look at the pirate, a grateful smile offered to him. She forgets that others of her kind can feel her emotions and she didn’t mean to startle him or anyone else that happens to be a lycan.

Valrae nods seriously, thinking of the stress Lanlan might be under as Kasyr mentions it. “Yes… He’s Arch Mage.” She adds quickly, as if she would like to move on from that bit of news, “I’m sure you knew. And he’s been working on… Well what we’ve all been working on. I’m afraid-” The witch turns her attention away from Kasyr when someone calls her name. The guards seem to stop whoever it might have been and Valrae is distracted again by Kasyr’s next words. “Right… I didn’t know if you knew about that.” Confusion passes like a cloud over her face, her golden brow furrowing as Mesdoram calls her name again. The guards let him through as she waves a hand. “Oh, ah hello!” She gives him her warmest fake smile. “Saved my life?” She echoes, dark eyes wide as moons. “I had no idea it had been in danger.” Again. “Thank you,” The warmth that she’d faked earlier was genuine now. The witch reaches out to take the invite and before she could say anymore the drow had slipped away. Valrae frowns. “What was I saying?” She takes a drink from her beer, then grinning she replies, “Oh, right. I wasn’t going too.”

Khitti || Khitti just blinked as he was handed some whiskey. He eyed it suspiciously, sniffed it, took a drink, then shrugged. But, he tried to look like he was still not happy with the drow, despite the free booze. There's a muttered thanks though.

Syrri stole someone's popcorn — the naughtiest thing she's ever done in her 30-odd years, probably, but she's famished, and this duel is just too fraught with excitement! Bless whoever's shoulders the halfling was sitting on, they might get kernels in their hair.

Meri watches Khitt. Once shew as sure Mesdoram's gift of whiskey had not been poisoned, because Khitt did not die yet, then Meri will have a sip or four.

01:41:14Reginae ’s pulled out all the stops to get Mathollak in this position. In her urgency to get to him, she’d missed this wraith nasacort action. The blade, she sees. But not fast enough to pull back her fangs. Her head turns, the serrated edge catching the tip of one of her fangs and pulling. The fang goes with it, followed by a thin train of blood. The rest of the blade clips the corner of her mouth, the area exploding with pain. What was that sword?! Her humanoid mouth releases a thunderous hiss in response. The flame imbued wraith powder flies out his mouth, heating the air around them. She’s able to lift her good arm, without the vambrace, to take the brunt of the flames. Silky white scales bristle to the surface of her skin, fast enough to avoid some of the damage. The flames that sneak past singe her clothes, fire spiraling individual hairs loose around her face. She spins her torso away from the death trap that was his mouth to press their backs together. Her long tail holds fast, keeping her balanced with the weight of his frame. It leaves but mere moments for their fate to be decided. 01:41:39Lanara is mildly annoyed at Tiber’s words, even though she later will realize he spoke with good intentions. “From the man that got me bitten by a snake on our honeymoon?! Oh. Wait. There were -two- snake encounters if I recall correctly… The first was when that python bit me. The second was the snake that slithered into my shorts in the swamp!” She’s getting riled up again and quiets down to focus on her breathing. At this rate all the wolves in a hundred mile radius will feel her fear.

After Duel/Wrap-up

Quintessa said, "Ladies, gentlemen, and all those that lie betwixt- Wasn’t this a lovely duel? While we wait for the judges to decide a winner, let's give our duelists a round of applause, shall we?"

Leoxander murmured something meant for Tiber that he knew the wolf's keen ears would pick up on, even as he focused toward the arena and followed it with a drink. "Yeah, sure as hell looks it."

Kasyr watches Valrae carefully navigate an enthusiastic 'fans' approach with a semblance of pity, "They really do come out of the woodwork, don't they. Just wait 'til you start getting the love letters." That said, his sympathies don't extend as far as the new archmage, "That news was hard to miss. Though, he seems to be having difficulty with his newfound office. I've still been unable to get ahold of all my research papers et notes." Still, she doesn't seem to want to dwell on the matter- and frankly, his own exile from Xalious -was- still fresh on the list of irritations strewn in his path, "Good plan. Is he suffering any side effects, notable or otherwise?" Beyond cheating the death oh-so-due to him.

Tiber said to Lanara, "You have to face them somehow!" Beat. "Besides, I got the snake out of your pants!" He can sense her frustrations with her heightened response. He knows he is about to enter the doghouse, and that they are going to have a long travel home bickering about this. It might be best to stay quiet for now and focus on the fight and clap for the duelists. "Great fight."

Meri rises from where she has been seated for the duration of the duel, opting to take her leave prior to the winner being announced. She would of course leave once saying goodbye to Khitt. And don't get any ideas, Mes, the tall and handsome elf is coming home with Meri.

Leoxander half heartedly claps his hands a few times for the duelists, but Tiber isn't the only one due for the 'doghouse' that day.

Brennia simply cannot take it anymore and her head feels like it’s about to split in two from the plethora of noises from the crowd filled arena. Brennia can feel Yozenra guiding her to sit back down, but her gaze is narrowed to the duelists and she clings to the wooden post instead as her heart is beating wildly.

Tiber frowned at Leoxander's mutter. "Why don't you worry about your own problems." The man gives a side-eye to the lycan before tipping back his own drink he had brought in with him before seeing Lanara.

Loravelle is crossing her fingers for Mathollak to win if only for Papa Thrug to witness his boy win. In reality, she's itching to leave and get out of Vailkrin again, but she isn't sure where she even wants to go once she and Leo are out of the undead city. She's very close to sneaking one of the smokes she has stowed away in robe pockets and lighting up herself because of her nerves. Instead of doing so, she leans in toward Papa Thrug and says something in Orcish about how Mattie did a great job, even if she couldn't see a fair bit of the match herself.

Lanara crosses her arms over her chest and tries to focus on steadying her nerves. Maybe -she- should see that therapist in Cenril, too? Tiber is trying to crawl his way out of the doghouse and she lifts a finger to her lips, “Shh. We can talk later. I’m trying to focus on breathing and counting!” Dark eyes watch as one of the fangs from the naga is ripped out and if it were any other animal, the empath would have cried out or yearned to help. However, it’s a snake. Everyone claps as the battle is coming to an end and Lana steals a glance to the right to see where Rude-Off has run off to, only to find that the reindeer is now enjoying an ice cream cone that he robbed from some poor soul. “You’re incorrigible, Rude-Off!” The deer rolls his eyes at her words, finishes his treat, and flies off into the night. Lana looks at Tiber, “We’ll be walking home, it seems.”

Quintessa said, "A winner has been selected."

Quintessa said, "We have our winner, my lovely people. This was a tough match-up but sadly we can only have one winner. Only one person can go on to face Nortengaal in the second round. It pains me to announce that we will not see more of you in this year’s Blood Bowl… Queen Reginae, I offer you my commiserations but it’s time to congratulate Mathollak. He has narrowly claimed victory for himself thus it is time for him to end this fight. Mathollak, finish this."

Winner:Mathollak

Leoxander said to Tiber, "I consider goin' deaf from that woman's pitch one'a my problems..." A bit of a bite on the last word added in, because it could be sincere or sarcastic when he spoke it, "...mate."

Valrae laughs, “I suppose so.” Then she levels him a look, “I think love letters will be the least of my problems.” She didn’t think anything close to that would be coming from say… Larket. “Oh!” She exclaims, when the subject changes to Kasyr’s research papers. “I could gather that up for you if you’d like. I don’t think anyone, Lan included, has been brave enough to go into your office.” When he asks about side effects, the witch frowns. “Side effects?” She repeats. “No… None that he’s shared. What makes you ask?” But she might never hear the answer. The match was called. Cheers erupted, the crowd going wild with thunderous applause.

Lanara glances back at Leo and there’s hurt in those big brown eyes as he delivers his comment. Ouch. She actually flinches and cannot form a rebuttal as the pirate has rendered her speechless. Turning away, she stands up and cannot meet anyone’s gaze, least of all her husbands. She mutters to Tiber, “I’m leaving.”

Leoxander kept his eyes on Mathallok for now, the gears in his head obviously grinding as he watches the blood knight take victory in the arena. He'd faced the man once, wasn't necessarily surprised, but Reginae coming out of the woodwork for such an event was a worthy spectacle on its own.

Brennia the nagas within the arena boo and jeer at the winner along with Brennia, but this means that the opponent gets one last swing at Regi and she is back to holding her breath in wait.

Loravelle gently pats Papa Thrug's back. His boy won! She joins in with the applause, and if it weren't for her mood she might have screamed something along with the rest of the crowd. Instead, she's very ready to go, so much so that she's already on her feet. She wouldn't grab Leo's hand and try to pull him out of the arena, but she does get ready to squeeze past him to head out.

Kasyr hears the audience erupt, and once more finds himself contemplating the act of seeking out the scalpels intended target- of using the din and confusion as a cover for the murderous act. And yet, the simple ramifications of failure stay his hand- especially when there's an olive branch being extended to him in that moment, "I'd certainly appreciate you taking a look for me. There's also a few knickknacks around the office I'd appreciate back. Momento's of sorts, et the like." An amusing understatement- made moreso by the loaded nature of the question the witch posed. "I'm fairly certain I've felt you both nearly die already. I was curious to know if he'd..." But no, if he'd been in the same disaster as Valrae- how would Lanlan be able to differentiate what was happening. How would either of them?

Mathollak exhales the last of his toxic and corrosive breath. Before the cloud can fully dissipate, he feels the coils around his body loosening as the wraith’s life draining essence weakens Reginae. Seizing the opportunity, he pushes against her long body with his one good arm until he can pull his knees up to his chest and plant his boots on her long tail. With spring like action, he bounces off her coil into her upper body, tackling her into the big nasty mess she made with her zombie geyser and bouncing her head off the ground. He straddles her, pulling his cleaver up ready to strike…! But when he brings his arm down again, it’s against a creeper scuttling over to them. She was already straining to keep her arms braced against him, there wasn’t much she could do if he actually attacked. So he rises to his feet, and throws his arm up toward the sky. 02:12:28Tiber squinted at Lanara at her 'shh'. He got the drill, so he crosses an arm across his chest and holds his brew. Mathollak wins, and a smile grows as he is glad he bet on this match. When Rude-Off takes off, he frowns again. "Great. Can’t wait to run into another group of undead." Obviously he is being a downer in his attempt to make his wife feel better. He did not use his words well with the Kelvarian at points, especially being a linguist. When Leoxander pipes up again for the last word, Tiber quirks a brow before looking at Lanara who is not looking at her. He mouths to Leoxander ‘dude’ with a glare before looking to Lanara. “He’s joking and look at him. His opinions don’t matter! You have a legit fear. Don’t go,” he groans. “There’s gonna be a finale! Snake girl is gonna get crushed!” Is that all he cares about? He shakes his head and reaches for her wrist to try to get her to stay. He did not want the couch tonight!

Khitti || Khitt finished off his drink and stood, rummaging around in that satchel he shared with Khitti, as he shoved aside the now empty bottle to acquire a notebook from within. In much the same fashion as Khitti, he summoned up a shadow-ink pen out of mid-air and set to scribbling some stuff on it. Before he'd make his way out of the arena, he'd pass the note off to one of Valrae's guards, letting them pass it off to her for him. It'd say: We need to talk about the "Archmage". Of course, Khitt had no idea that very same drow was the one that Kasyr and the Red Witch had been discussing. But, now wasn't the time to do it, regardless. With his things collected, he'd grab a bottle of schnapps for the road and headed towards the portal to exit the city.

Leoxander lifted his head to look after Lora when she stood up to leave without him. Was she really going to brave those Vailkrin streets on her own? The sinister side of him almost wanted to wait and see how far she got before she looked back, but with a slight roll of his eyes to himself, he stood up and tucked the flask away at the back of his pants. Vaguely aware he’d struck a nerve with not only Tiber, but his wife, the rogue would put fixing that at the bottom of his to-do list, because the Mouse knew where he slept. And tonight, it probably wouldn’t be with her without explanation regarding Mesdorum’s play. Thanks a lot, damn drow.

Quintessa waves her hand and the darkness dissipates, banishing the wraiths along with it as she approaches the arena with the intention of paying Matholak and Reginae for their time personally. The arena personale followed to administer an aid that was necessary. “Glorious,” the changeling says, clapping her hands together. “Thanks to both of you. Mathollak, I will see you next round… Queen Regnae, I will be seeing you in the near future too…” Quintessa allows that last statement to linger, a hidden meaning behind it. Once she pays both of them she retreats to the announcers table once again.

Quintessa gave 5000 gold to Mathollak.

Quintessa gave 5000 gold to Reginae.

Leoxander gave 15000 gold to Mathollak.

Lanara remains until the finale is over and she applauds with the rest of them, even if it's a half hearted attempt on her part. Once it's officially over, Lana tugs her wrist from Tiber's grasp and storms out of the arena. It seems that two men are taking the couch, nay, the -floor- tonight.

Tiber was too busy looking at Lanara, Leoxander, and Loravelle that he missed the ending! He throws his hands up in the air in disappointment and the crowd around him is cheering. Lanara leaves and Loravelle and Leoxander still remains. Tiber is flabbergasted. "Thanks. I'm really glad you had an opinion tonight, as I -love- to hear them." Not. Tiber finishes off his drink.

Brennia watches most of the nag storm down to delicately collect their Queen if she allows, Yozenra included, and now she is left with the naga that can’t stand her as she struggling as against his hand wrapped tightly around her bicep, “I want to make sure Queen Reginae is okay.” She is oddly calm as she is trying not to cause a scene, but he moves her along as she trips over her own feet with unpreparedness and he mentions it’s time to start heading back to Alithrya. She keeps peeking over her shoulder and between her wings to try and see anything, though.

Valrae tilts her head toward Kasyr, watching him closely. The sounds of the crowd dropped away as she turned, her eyes finding Quintessa as she did. “Kasyr.” She says his name softly but even under the noise the plea in her tone was clear. Perhaps it was the new bond they’d shared but something was ringing the alarm bells in the back of her mind. She shifts back toward the subject change easily, in the practiced way of politicians everywhere. “I can gather it all up. I’ll ask forgiveness later,” She laughs easily, but the humor doesn’t stay long. She was surprised to see how much of the soul bond he’d figured out on his own, perhaps because it seemed as if Lanlan was blissfully unaware. Now she wondered if this was another illusion of his. “I felt it too,” She says, “When Caluss attacked the tree. Lan died, Kasyr. I don’t know if he’s even aware. When I cast that spell, I was just trying to save you. I didn’t know it would become this…” She gestures vaguely with her free hand. “It seems I’ve bound us together, for how long and to what end… Well, I don’t know.” The crowd cheers again as Mathollak lands his earned victory blow and eventually they begin to filter out of the area. Val sat for a while, watching behind her guardsmen and quietly enjoying the company of a friend as she nursed the last of her beer. “It was good to see you,” She says as she stands, brushing at invisible lint on her skirts. “Maybe we don’t go so long in between next time?” With a final parting smile, Valrae and her guards slip into the crowd and head back toward the carriage that awaits to transport them to Cenril.

Syrri was moderately disappointed to see how this duel turned out. She'd so very much wanted a re-match with Queen Reginae, although the potential for coming up against Mathollak a second time was almost as thrilling. Lieutenant Darkfoot graciously thanked the kind soul who had supported her during the duel, brushing a few popcorn kernels out of their hair, and she descended to the ground before beginning the journey back to the hotel suite she'd rented for the tournament's duration.

Quintessa watches Valrae and Kasyr speak from her table and finally the first spark of emotion inside of her this evening flares up; Curiosity. But she doesn’t outwardly show this nor does she hide the fact that she’s watching them.

Reginae is seeing stars after the tumble. Also literally breathing in wraith dust. That one wraith got it's revenge apparently. Medics slog through the muck and acidic bodies pull her out. Did that guy use her tail as a spring? That was the coolest thing she'd ever kind of partially seen.

Kasyr might have actually been a bit startled when Valrae keyed onto his intent- whether nebulous or otherwise. There was going to be a -lot- of adjustments if they all became increasingly adept with the nuances of the damned thing. Still, this really wasn't the place to talk further on the matter- and so, he allows her to say her piece and head off, leaving him to contemplate the logistics.

Kasyr , bereft of a conversation partner, is then just left to ponder, though his attention will ever drift in the direction of the one scrutinizing him.

Mathollak picks up his belongings one by one, awkwardly looping his axe on his back again, and coiling the chain around his shoulder. Then he sees something glinting in the muck, sticking out like a sore thumb for its pristine whiteness. A long and pointy tooth. He sneakily picks it up, remembering not everybody obeys the law of finders keepers. Just then, he’s swarmed by a small mob of hooded weirdos clambering out of the bleachers. He’s prepared to fight them off, until he sees their cloaks are a familiar shade of red, and the golden cup filled with dagger embroidered onto the fabric. Quintessa is there too, but she’s not a groupie. Sad. Mathollak flourishes with a smirk, casting a mess of wild brown hair over his grotesquified face. “Of course you will!” Then his new entourage clamber around him inundating him with adoring praise, and hopefully leading him to some bohemian hovel to detox and put this scary tooth in a cup of milk. Secretly, he laments that there aren’t any more wraiths to snort.

Quintessa locks eyes with Kasyr. She ponders what a conversation with him would be like but she knows nothing can be gained from it.

Kasyr holds that look for a few long moments, before finally leaning back, his attention drifting towards the sky. His own conclusion is much the same- their respective paths had put them at opposite ends, with no recourse save the battlefield. Only, that place wasn't here. Not yet, at least. A smoke's retrieved from his pocket, and set to his lips as he waits for the crowds to continue filtering out- heedless of the fact that at least some seem to recognize their former regent, or the looks brought about by Vexar's unveiling of his now lost mortality.

Quintessa does not shrink away from the eye-contact, she maintains it as long as Kasyr does, only as he looks skyward Quintessa insead rises to leave. Walking alone, without her guard present, the Countess of the Dark Forest heads in the direction of her demesne.