Duel:Voranus v Xzarren

Part of the The Lesser of Two Evils Arc

Duelists: Voranus vs. Xzarren.

Duel: Traditional 3 posts each, with final defense. 15 minute posting limit.
Stakes: Autohit to victor, jailtime for Voranus upon loss, or Voranus escaping and plundering a grave for a journal.
Judges: Tiphareth, Kuzial
Winner:Xzarren

Main Graveyard Area

Voranus was starting to get a bit agitated by this man; all he wanted to do was to be alone for a few moments to investigate this prick at the back of his brain that was begging for him to dig. Red eyes closed as his head shook back and forth, tusks swinging menacingly from the troll's face as he erected his body, "Yer picked da wrong troll, brooda, to get noble on." Thick, leathery fingers stretched out over his arm, rubbing down till they reached scars, carved deep and repeatedly into the troll's arms, it was almost impossible to get them to stay, each set almost cut fresh daily to stop his hide from healing over them. Voranus' eyes opened, striking blood red hues noticeable as magic invoked itself, coursing through his veins as familiars started to heed the call of their master. Jaws snapped from the shadows of the graveyard, guttural growls stirring as lumbering crocodiles started to make their way towards Voranus, being corporeal as their gaping maws opened, feet moving them closer to Xzarren as one, then two, and finally to a count of four took shape. It was a frenzy sent the vampire's way, the crocs holding no qualms as they swarmed Xzarren with the intent of surrounding him and snapping at him in unison in the hopes of a feast. Voranus was a cautious one however, the troll figured he was sending his precious crocs into death's maw this way, but he needed time as his vest was shed, shoulders and back littered with scars from years of experimentation the hermit had in his swamp. His moves were not crisp in the slightest, his tongue barely manageable as he started to chant in a thick tribal accent, all in preparation for his next assault.

Xzarren wastes no time, unsheathing his mundane long sword, his footsteps crossing the distance betwixt man and foe. "You had your chance to surrender, you leave me no choice but to fight." On his path toward the troll, a gator with razor lined teeth burst out from the darkness, it's maw snapping at the vampire. It's teeth latch onto his arm, stopping him in his tracks until his metallic hand draws forth the necrotic power focused heavily in this erie yet sanctified place. Growling, he unleashes a cloud of death, rotting the alligators all around him until only there carcasses and teeth remained. His sleeve was torn and the blood was flowing, yet he shook off the bones of the beast, his impromtu dash on Voranus resuming as his silvery blade swipes outwards for the troll's wrist, and thigh in a two slash attack. Afterwards, using his momentum to turn himself, his blade is turned broad side out aimed directly at the side of Vor's head to smash his cranium in.

Voranus followed Xzarren with that blood thirsty gaze, the troll baring his teeth in a look that showed disgust for the vampire, one hand thrusting outwards, making as if to grab Xzarren from where he was. The spell was at most mediocre, coming from the unskilled hands of the troll, but the effect was still the same as his body seemed to open up, wounds oozing with blood. A person gifted with the second sight would behold a mess of arcane swirling around the troll, Voranus was tapping into his own life pool to draw forth magic, but it was unwieldy, most escaping to where other mages could detect how he was twisting his own life for the sake of rage. The troll was brought back down to earth as Xzarren's first blow landed over the top of his wrist, more blood oozing out and pouring onto the dirt beneath them, followed by the second blow that caused the acrid, foul smelling to seep from Voranus's body to taint the dirt beneath them, but as the sword started backwards to smash into the magus's skull, the ground swelled, surely sending Xzarren off kilter while flesh ripped up from the dirt. A single, solitary hand seized the blow from the assassin, using it to pull itself up from the terra that was holding its body captive, or was it starting to pull Xzarren in? The ground seemed to ripple only beneath the vampire as the hand was joined by another, the dead of the graveyard wailing as they sought to drag Xzarren down beneath the dirt and entomb him below.

Xzarren finishes his spin, the quake beneath his feet causing him to miss his blunt-edged strike as he skirts away. A look of anger and deadliness repeat itself in the assassin's eyes as he stares down Voranus for one very brief moment, taking in a breath and calculating his next step before a gout of blood bursts from the vampire's arm where the alligator had bitten him. He recognized the magic, he once used it himself in the past and somewhat to this day. Clutching his arm before the talons of the undead burst from the ground and their graves with a hellish and unearthly cry the vampire with the crimson cloak ignores his battle wound for now, stomping on the wrist of the nearest ghoul, and breaking it like a twig under his heavy boot. His blood poured heavily into the earth, his arm useless as the numbness creeped further upwards until it reached his shoulder. He would forget about it, and wield that long sword with one hand, laying it against his lightly armored shoulder as he dashes forward, attempting to dodge the decaying limbs of the zombies bursting from the ground. Clenching his teeth at his foe he growls, sword leaving his shoulder in a downwards slash to gut him from sternum to genitals, and leave his chest a pouring cavity of blood and organs.

Voranus grunted and shook his tusks as he looked down to his wounds, his hands come down now towards his wrist, thick hide rolling around in the fresh blood that Xzarren released from his body, lips snarling as his head started to ease downward, tongue reaching out to lap out the blood and taste the iron that rolled around his body, his eyes filling with hatred as the assassin stomped about the hands of the undead. Once more Xzarren was charging straight towards the bleeding troll who had to act fast as the sword lifted and moved to come down on the blood mage, covered in blood. His hands lifted as he forced the magic from his blood back towards the source, clotting occurring all over his body, including outside, but Voranus was not careful with this skill, he only knew he could do it for a flash of a moment, he had to wait as his arms were held out towards Xzarren like he was forcing himself against a wall. The might swing came down upon the troll, throaty bark welling out from his body as he commanded the blood to galvanize, the liquid of life turning to iron as Xzarren struck down, the blow deflected by the sanguine shield. A second thrust came from Voranus, the soldier at such close proximity, he could not take a chance before his spell shattered, his blood heating up from its position, shards forming as parts started to break up, exploding outwards in a shrapnel blast towards the vampire.

Xzarren 's sword embeds itself into the ground, as he expected. He only wish it had done so with a miniscule amount of success at cleavering Voranus' chest in halves. The blood shield is utilized in the exact moment he struck, now clearly overheating and about to burst. Grinding his teeth and expelling a heavy breath, the vampire seems close to meeting an unfortunate end before he can even lift his blade. He has to think within the frame of a split second, and he chooses to throw himself to the side in a roll, the hot blast of the overheated sanguine striking the ground just behind his previous location, the blood shards sizzling with their immense temperature before quickly cooling, their color fading. It isn't long before Xzarren raises, his hands raised to his sides as he quickly wells within him magic of his own, a similiar blood magic to Voranus'. The wound from his arm bursts into flames providing the necessary conduit yet not harming the vampire thanks it being a magically class he is familiar with. "This ends now!" Placing his hands together, palm against the back of a metallic gauntlet that was similarly splayed open, the flames fan out in a torrential inferno for the Troll. It was a last gambit, but given his racial weakness to the conjured flames, it could be enough to turn the fight in his favor and cook the blood magus alive in his own skin.

Voranus dropped his arms from in front of his face, not hearing that overbearing onslaught from the vampire trying to make another stab at it. The troll's head thrust outward to see if he could spot the guard, though his eyes were not the first thing to detect him. The intensity of the mana that was building up inside Xzarren held a primal quality to it, the troll's nostrils flaring as if to pick up the scent… Of flame. There was no mistaking what the assassin was about to do as the gauntlets started to pull apart, flames ripping from his hands and causing the magus to shrink back and think quickly. The essence of blood had been corrupted in flame form, which made it harder for him to manipulate as the searing blaze rushed towards him, hands forming signs, wards about his body triggering in an effort to stagnate the flames. The wounds on the thick troll hide were cauterized as the flame wave pressed against Voranus, his hands reaching up to the heavens, hoping that somehow troll strength could aide his magic to stop the attack. Leathers were seared, his body starting to sweat as he looked for the weakness in the spells casting, a way to unravel the magic in it, and then there it was. Those curious red eyes locked into the flames, fingers curling as if they had found a string, and a tug was given as the corrupt magic of blood was slowly drained, seared troll thankful he was not cooked as he absorbed the mana inward.

Xzarren may not have roasted the suspicious, would-be grave robber but as the troll desperately set out to expunge his flames the necroblade saw an opportunity still. With the pain of his now searing and throbbing arm to guide him in his course for vengeance, the vampire stalks ever closer to his stunned prey, his ridged scar cut through the right side of his face adding to the venom of his snarl. In a dire roar the reborn thrusts his armored shoulder piece into the gut of Voranus, toppling the troll over as the frenzied male hurtles on top of him, coating his face with a fresh layer of bruises and blood as each of his metal-knuckled fists rains down. Only the pain of his wounds and of his lost life essence used in casting his spells stopped the vampire from beating Voranus to death, leaving his body limp and out cold in the dirt as he finally ceases, the anger fading from his facade as victory had become ever obvious. "Guards! A little help would be appreciated..." Breathing heavily the vampire dismounts his seat over Voranus and steps over to his forsaken sword, returning it to it's scabbard. As the iron and plate-mail sentries run to his aid the vampire merely extends his arm out at the unmoving body of the troll, his finger pointed as one command leaves his lips. "Find him your coziest dungeon then forget about him." With this just about wrapped up, the vampire walks away into the night, hoping to find Kasyr soon and give him a report as well as replenish the blood he had lost here.