Fight:One-Way Ticket, No Stops, Straight Down

This was an OOC fight, duel-style, between Kreekitaka and Emrith. I'm not going to say anything about it. It speaks for itself.

Fall From Heaven

Kreekitaka was preparing to launch a proper assault on his opponent--the rematch of the century was just about to begin--when all of a sudden the clouds gave way and the pair began to plummet towards the ground. ...Well. This was certainly going to be an interesting evening, wasn't it? Kree folded his legs against his carapace and spread out his paddles--it wasn't going to stop him from falling, but it was totally going to allow him a bit of direction. And he used that maneuvering to hurl himself into Emrith, hauling out his massive jawblade and delivering a massive overhead swing with both arms, trying to use both his strength and not-inconsiderable momentum to bash the vampire's brains out--and speaking of brains. Kree knew this man was fast. Should the man also be capable of dodging in midair, Kree would release the grip on his jawblade with one claw depending on which direction he dodged and sweep the weapon back up and to the side to try and knock the man into a spin as they plummeted.

Emrith has more than a few tricks up his sleeves. As free-fall begins and Kreekitaka lunges, Emrith begins to channel mana into his boots, effectively allowing him to alter the trajectory of his groundward plunge at will. As the jawblade whistles down toward his head, Emrith propels himself backward and away from his foe as if skating on an invisible plane in midair. There is nothing he can do to stop his groundward momentum - his boots are simply unable to cope with the lack of ground anywhere beneath them - and thus the spell-blade knows that decisiveness is the best weapon. Bringing Heleg, his ice-enchanted shortsword, out of its scabbard, he adopts wind stance, uses his boots to shove him back toward his plummetting opponent, and delivers a single vicious hack toward the uyeer's near shoulder. As he does this, the vampiric elf drops a hand to his hip, fumbles a rune-stone out of a small leather pouch there, and hurls it point-blank toward his foe. If it does not simply miss completely, the stone will detonate with significant force when it strikes something solid. Even if the concussion knocks him for a tumble by its sheer proximity, Emrith is hoping that Kreekitaka's greater size and peculiar body shape will allow the elf to right himself first, the better to launch another and far more decisive attack.

Kreekitaka had not quite anticipated a backwards movement, but he hadn't exactly stopped moving forward himself--as Heleg came out and went for his shoulder again he only had time to get his jawblade partially up before he once against felt the blade's frosty touch scraping across his carapace. This was not, however, the real move. The real move was the rune-detonation, and to say that it hurled Kree away and kept him from righting himself was an understatement. Kree actually let go of his jawblade, the blast stunned him so badly--impacts like that are not good for a being's soft tissues, and hardened armor like Kree's did very little to protect him. So he gave no resistance to being launched away, actually blacking out for precious seconds, falling in a haphazard ragdoll fashion. Slowly, he came to, dimly aware of what was going on. He slowly angled his body towards Emrith, facing the man as best he could, though he remained still--he seemed wide-open, his claws weren't even in a guard position. Was he still unconscious, and his fall had stabilized by accident? Maybe it was a trap.

Emrith feels the wind rising around him, ripping at his cloak and freezing the moisture on the surfaces of his eyes. He blinks, attempting to clear them, and tiny chips of ice fall from his eyelashes to run down his pale cheeks. He sees Kreekitaka tossed like a ragdoll and bares his fangs in a humourless snarl. The creature does not seem to be reacting, appears, in fact, to be wide open, but the spell-blade has not lived for the better part of two and a half centuries without growing wise to certain ruses. Rather than attempt to run in close - his might is no match for that of his adversary, after all - Emrith calmly draws Nahr into his other hand, then points its tip toward and slightly below Kreekitaka as he falls. With a screamed word in the elven tongue he channels magic through Nahr's blade, superheating it in an instant and causing a modest fireball to burst from its point. The sphere of flame arcs downward beneath the falling uyeer, then blossoms like an umbrella as the cold wind catches it. Emrith feels a sharp pain in his temples as the spell is loosed, and a wave of dizziness buffets him. He loses control of his body for a moment, and he, too, begins to tumble. His only saving grace is that he falls backward, somersaulting over and over for awhile, sailing past the outer edge of the fiery trap that awaits Kreekitaka with only his cloak catching fire. He finally snaps back to some sort of awareness, now hurtling toward the ground like a comet, trailing a tail of flame in his wake.

Kreekitaka was going to taste real good in butter after this, he realized to himself as the ball of flame suddenly loosed itself from the man's sword. Shoulda chugged your potions, Kree. His second thought was that his opponent had missed, but when the blast exploded wide he realized swiftly that his one shot at surviving was blasting through it as swiftly as possible. All limbs tucked up against his body, all paddles folded, and Kree angled himself as aerodynamically as possible. The flames rushed towards him--he had no way of closing his eyes--and then he was in the middle of the maelstrom, the wind ripping through him as much as the fire, preventing him from even screaming. Now his kilt was on fire--as were the straps which held his water tanks to his back. Soon they were going to fall away. Fortunately, Kree was just moist enough to avoid being entirely cooked by the fire, and now, in as much pain as he was in and with his only source of oxygen about to be ripped from him, he burned with more than flames. His vision clearing, he noticed Emrith ragdolling himself. Shifting his paddles, Kree hurled himself in the man's direction once more, rippling them to propel himself even faster. It was payback time. Kree intended to barrel into his opponent at full speed, blades or impalement notwithstanding, and lash his tentacles around anything he could, followed swiftly by his claws. Kree was absolutely determined to break something--be it an arm, a leg, a neck, a skull...

Emrith sees Kreekitaka coming for him in one last desperatt blaze of glory. A glance toward the earth tells the elf that terrific impact is near at hand. Rather than allow the crab-man to dictate the terms of their midair meeting, Emrith squints his eyes, grits his teeth and channels one huge blast of mana into his boots. He shoots forward with terrible speed, both swords outstretched, and the two come together with awful, bone-cracking force. Neither of them will be walking away quickly, but Emrith is trusting that his magically--aided momentum has shifted the balance a little; Kreekitaka's bodyweight and size may be overpowered by the sheer power of the vampiric elf's mad bullrush, enough that as the ground nears, Emrith is the one on top. Clutched, crushed and battened on by the crab-thingg's claws and tentacles, Emrith shrieks with pain and fury as he bears down with both blades. He is only dimly aware that his cloak has burned away behind him, cinders on the wind; he is thankfully spared further wounds from that unintentional self-immolation by the mortal clutch of the uyeer's limbs. If striking the ground at such terrifying speed is not enough to kill the crab, perhaps the two swords which will ram through him will finish the job. Emrith, it must be said, is in little better shape; he has no hope of escape, and may, in fact, die mere seconds after his foe does. Still, he thinks, victory is foremost...even in free-fall.

Kreekitaka was big, true, but he was impacted hard by Emrith and his swords. That sort of impact takes a toll on you, even when you do have him locked in your claws which are crushing and pummeling anything they can. Really, it was all he could do to set them tumbling and spinning in the air, and at least randomize who hit the ground first.

Result

Emrith said OOC, "So, so, so glad this spar isn't IC. They'd both be either dead or horribly wounded at this point."

Kreekitaka said OOC, "-Extremely- glad it's not IC. xD"

Kreekitaka said OOC, "...It'd be the best way for them both to go out, though."

Kreekitaka said OOC, "I mean. You can't get a much better death than plummeting to the ground in a screaming ball of flames and violence."

Emrith said, "OOC: Yeah, there's really no last defense from this besides something like "Kreekitaka braces for impact". Heh. They're both dead, probably."

Kreekitaka said, "ooc: Most likely, yeah. xD Gonna need one heck of a cleric. And a spatula."

Emrith said OOC, "Well, that was fun as hell."

Kreekitaka said OOC, "Indeed! =D"