RP:The Fall of the Grey

Part of the Grey Blight Arc

Frostmaw Colosseum

Satoshi's had the arena made off limits for the past day, much to the annoyance of those that frequent the stands to watch the daily matches. They've been given promises of it reopening in the very near future, and with even bloodier battles to make up for the closure, but that won't satisfy them until it actually happens. As it stands, Satoshi isn't overly worried about a few disgruntled fans. They are easily appeased once their original flaring of tempers has cooled off, for one, and for another, she has bigger issues to focus on. Such as the young grey dragon currently chained to the center pillar of the arena. Obtained from a less than reputable exotics dealer at the cost of a small fortune, the hatchling has had little improvement in its short but miserable life since falling into Satoshi's claws. Bound, muzzled, and chained, the dragon has been thoroughly constricted and left in the snows to await an unknown fate, each hour given just enough food and water to sustain it in exchange for a long, painful cut sliced into its flesh by a keen dagger. With each new wound, the saurian's struggles increase as does the volume of its cries, a piercing, plaintive trill it might have made to its mother--had it a mother to beg for help from. It's heart-wrenching enough to make most any sensible being pause, and even Satoshi's beginning to reconsider her than less moral methods, having to repeatedly remind herself that the cries are a necessary evil, that no grey dragon, especially a mother one, could ignore the sounds for long. She's banking on that maternal instinct that would draw Ishataulak straight into the waiting trap the magus has transformed the arena into. She's determined to make the dragon pay her dues this evening...

Kasyr is simply sitting with his back to one of the arena walls, with his knees drawn up to his body so as to serve as an improvised chin rest. Having barely moved, beyond the initial motions to set a small ring of mundane Katana's around himself, the Kensai has by this point accrued a faint layer of snow about his person- especially where his arms have looped around his legs. Still, this slow progression towards submersion by snow doesn't seem to be fazing him- nor motivating him to do much else but continue to stare fixedly at the squalling hatchling.

Satoshi, after drawing another bloody line from the dragon, makes her way back to Kasyr's side to lean against the wall he's perched upon. Ears press back at the renewed screeching the hatchling puts up, the faint throb at the back of her skull informing the kit she'll have a severe headache before long if this keeps up. "She -has- to hear this... right?" A look is given to her snow-clad husband then, seeking any answer so long as it breaks up the monotony of crying dragon babies. She's grown weary of repeatedly pacing the arena's perimeter, checking and rechecking the fine trails of diamond dust and powdered frost that serve as the lines of the massive magic circle she's created. The pattern isn't like her signature one, nor does it match those that give life to the Sentinels, but is instead a jagged, scrawling affair of rough runes and symbols so sharply shaped as to appear almost fanged. To those familiar with the script, they'd recognize it as arcane twists on the saurian language, guttural words that spell out promises of ill fates to any sauriankin that enter its borders upon activation. Since Ishataulak's last appearance Satoshi has been working on this design, modifications made with every test, components gathered after each tournament match the dragons Ryker or Gorzhageigk participated in. The kit's prepared. She just needs the guest of honor to make an appearance already. "Do you sense her at all? She burrows too deeply for me to feel her through the snows."

Kasyr takes a break from his prolonged bout of scowling, leveling his attention towards Satoshi, "I'm not particularly sure she -has- to hear anything, if she had decided to simply curl up somewhere et die." The revenants tone is acidic, but what comes next is positively venomous, "But. She es around. Somewhere. I can feel that familiar degree of loathing et rage she has reserved for us." One that is no doubt matched by the Kensai, at this point. With that said, however, Kasyr simply falls quiet once more, if only so he can devote his attention to murdering the hatchling with his gaze.

Satoshi reclines against the wall with a scowl of her own, but unlike her husband, she's doing her best to ignore the hatchling, instead focusing her attention on time's steady progress. Waiting, waiting, waiting. This day has been nothing but waiting, and this evening promises to be much the same without a hint of a tremor to denote a dragon on approach. Kasyr's assurance that the Grey is in the area at least does away with a hint of her doubts, although it does little to improve murderous hopes. The hatchling chooses this moment to stretch its stubby neck as far out as possible before bellowing in a positively ear-splitting mini-roar, the sound driving Satoshi to a knee as her single hand strives to protect both assaulted ears. When the cry ends, the kit is on her feet and stalking toward her captive, snarled promises of bloody revenge on her lips before she's stopped dead in her tracks. Ears prick up, standing as tall as they're able as they catch the distant but familiar roar. Ishataulak has finally responded. "She's coming..."

Kasyr grimaces once the infants cry shreds through the air. Nonetheless, he makes no motions towards the wretched little creature, instead tolerating the dissonant shriek- in the hopes that it might prove more effective than its prior mewlings. A hope that appears wellfounded, given the response it elicits- a response that is enough to even coax Kasyr into shifting, even if only slightly, so that the silvery-white sheathed katana on his lap is somewhat more readily accessible. Beyond that, however, he's still waiting. "Finally."

Satoshi can feel the faint trembling of the earth through her boots, the telltale sign of the Grey approaching by ground and doing so at a rapid pace. Encouraged by this, the foxkin closes the remaining gap between herself and the hatchling, kneels down beside it, and without ceremony buries the dagger into its front paw, driving it hilt deep and unleashing a fresh onslaught of squalling. A ripple courses across the arena floor in response to the noise, and Satoshi smirks with feral pleasure, rising to her feet. "C'mon. It's time to stop hiding," she murmurs, words and the hummed tune that follows lost beneath the hatchling's cries. Yet the diamond dust pattern still hears the command, its answer coming in the form of a brief flash of silver light and the low hum of magic beginning to course through its design. As the circle comes to life, Satoshi adjusts her stance in preparation and begins eyeing the ground, seeking out the location where Ishataulak will erupt from.

Kasyr gives Satoshi and the hatchling a particular look following the prompt relocation, before his attention snaps down towards the ground- and the manner in which that large concentration of furious emotions seems to be diverting more towards his direction now. Not a moment is wasted in lurching to a stand upon that realization- the Revenant only barely managing to dislodge one of the swords from his circle before his priorities shift. From there, the Kensai hops onto the hilts of one of the others, relying on his unnatural sense of balance so that he can then hurl himself clear of that particular spot as it's reduced to a geyser of stone, direct and broken steel by the dragons violently abrupt emergence. And the situation doesn't exactly improve either, with the manner in which she uses that moment to abruptly spew a large, albeit inaccurate, amount of petrifying 'bile' in the Revenant's direction- an act which coaxes him into abruptly diving into one of the rows. Between the natural defenses provided by the seats turned barricades, and the manner in which he uses his hastily shucked coat as a shoddy umbrella- the Kensai is relatively alright, despite being effectively cemented to that spot in a quaint little hill of stone.

Empath she might not be, but even Satoshi can feel the waves of purest loathing radiating off the dragon like so much murderous sunlight. It's palpable enough to make even her falter a moment, until her mind flashes forth images of Griddlebone torn limb from limb, Sawyer a bloody pile of fur, Dansur shredded from snout to tail, and Aurelia bisected and locked in death by petrification. Hesitation evaporates from the kit's eyes in an instant, replaced by a coldly burning fury, her own seething rage spilling off her small form in visible waves of frost. Readily does her magic fuel the circle Ishataulak has burst into and set into place its purpose: with the sound a whipcrack Ishataulak--and the hatchling--are slammed against the ground, the latter's gargantuan body shaking the arena to its core upon impact. Both dragons, for a short moment, appear to have been pressed flat into the snow by the hands of invisible giants. Or, more accurately, by the sudden increase of gravity's hold upon saurian blood. While Satoshi is no spatiomancer, she is well-versed in spells that call upon blood, and thus has modified her own vampiric songs to concoct one that would exert extreme pressure upon dragon's blood, drawing it toward the magic circle's design--in this case, straight down. The force is more than enough to keep the hatchling hopelessly pinned, even if its bleeding wounds did not worsen the effect, but Ishataulak is far stronger, and fueled by an insatiable lust for revenge. A roar builds steadily at the back of the Grey's throat as she forces her limbs into motion and drives her armored body upward, rising into a stand as her jaws part to unleash a defiant bellow and another burst of petrifying fluid, this one a conical spray that's swept from where Kasyr lurks in the stands toward Satoshi... only to be brought up short, as the Grey realizes the magus still stands beside the hatchling, a draconic shield against immediate retaliation.

Ignatius was drawn away from his wanderings by a sound, a ferocious and monstrous sound that the old knight was oft so very hard pressed to ignore. It was a call of glory and of battle so full of the promise of reputation and honor that Frostmaw's errant Knight-captain lived for, as it were - and with that sound coming from the arena that he had found himself barred from for most of the day, how could Ignatius resist answering it? And that was what brought him to be standing at the threshold of one of the fighters' entrances, posed all in proper fashion with hand upon hilt and hand upon hat to hold one at the ready while the other was tilted downward over his eyes just so. To describe what he felt with one word would be simply say excitement as was made obvious by the grin that had firmly established itself upon his mortified visage. ""Cos'è questo? Un partito che non è stato invitato a?" He called out to the queen proper and her kingly consort as he took a few short steps into the arena where this vengeful battle had been staged. He was all cool confidence even in the sight of chaos and cacophony, fully at home in the madness of violent conflict. Such was, after all, what he lived for. "Hey, ci sei. Cagna!" He would call out suddenly with such loudness that it could only be that he was pointedly attempting to garner the grey's attention. "Let's see how you and my Alessia fair together!"

Satoshi needs to get into the swing of NPCing Isha again, while trying to maintain Sato. Scramble, scramble!

Kasyr would be clutching his head right now, were he capable, if only because of the intense amounts of loathing that are flooding the area- especially when one considers the emotional and mental bond he shares with his mate. As it currently stands, however, he's finding the matter somewhat difficult, if only due to the fact that his coat has effectively turned itself into a contour hugging -coffin-, what with having been essentially pasted to the Revenant by Ishataulak's breath. A development which simply leaves the Revenant stewing in place; slowly succumbing to not only the rage that is ambient in that place, but also the murderous emotions that he's been entertaining for months. A wrath that is slowly taking form now, pooling in the darkness draped about the Kensai's form, breathing unnatural 'life' into the shadows which have been cast by Kasyr's prison. Bit by bit, those pitch black tendrils garner solidity, if only to begin pushing outwards. . . grating furiously against the stony shell encircling the vampire. Faced with this unnatural fury, the stone begins to cede in pieces, gnawed away by that profound darkness as it surges forth to liberate itself and its source.

Discovering her attempt at a second dousing is futile between Kasyr's stony prison and Satoshi's saurian meat shield, Ishataulak growls and snaps her jaws shut to end the spewing stream. The motion is timed so precisely with Ignatius' appearance and declaration that it gives the illusion he's startled the dragon into silence. The Grey even cocks her horned head slightly at the unintelligible words, ochre eyes narrowing upon his deathly form before lips ripple with a low growl. Here is a target she can get to with ease. The bunching of muscles that would normally betray a sudden movement is masked beneath the thick, armor-like scales plating the Grey's body, a fact that gives Ignatius little warning before Ishataulak is launching her immense bulk at him with full intentions of crushing him beneath her fore-talons. And if massive claws miss, there's the rest of her nine ton body coming down upon him immediately afterwards. Satoshi has no intentions of letting this distraction go to waste, as she's already moving, an arcane song of cruel words and harsh melody spilling from her lips while she rushes toward Kasyr. When she reaches her mate, the spell reaches completion and manifests in the form of a series of icy disks hovering in the air around the arena at roughly Ishataulak's eye level. In the kit's hand she clenches a final disk, along with a glint of amber hidden beneath it. To Kasyr she hurriedly asks, "Just how good is your aim when you throw Dami~?"

Ignatius had been terribly curious to test the full extents of Alessia's stopping power since discovering her inherent ability to deliver unnatural amounts of pure physical impact and here was presented a perfect opportunity to do so. That dreaded gray was a mighty beast indeed, full of much more raw strength than any of the others who had sampled his sword's vicious kiss. ""Calmo come una foresta, ma un incendio all'interno." He began to sing, using the harmonic words as a focus point towards clearing his thoughts of all things save for the song and the battle that had been unfolding itself before him. And when the dragon finally set her sights upon him, he let his feet slide across the frozen ground to widen his stance - torso shifting downwards to lower his center of gravity. "Dobbiamo essere veloce come un fiume impetuoso." He chanted in that melodious tone of his as his grip tightened upon the hilt of his draconic blade in preparation for its unsheathing. "Con tutta la forza di una grande tempesta." He suddenly roared out, the tone of his song becoming much more like a cadence that might be heard coming from a marching army rather than a pleasant ditty heard from a tavern's bard. It was then that he would draw his sword in a wide upward arc, making use of his stance and the unsheathing of Alessia to feed momentum into the dragonbone blade - his body springing upwards as he leapt to meet those descending claws with a kiss from that sword of his. It was a gambit to be sure, a reckless endeavor made just to see if the raw strength of a dead deep and the undead that carried it was any match for that of a living gray fueled by rage.

Kasyr is free~ a fact that is rather difficult to miss when the rock that had surrounded him abruptly blows apart from the sheer amount of pressure being exerted upon it, sending a rain of stony shrapnel in all directions. What's more, is that particularly ominous twilight 'aura' of the Revenant's is also liberated, sending those writhing abysmal appendages surge outwards as they continue to be swell from that delightfully nutritious (and malicious) concoction of malevolence, rage and that particular brand of spiritual darkness which is inherent to Kasyr's aberrant nature. Between this emergence, and the cacophonous, yet altogether engrossing task of burrowing said appendages into the area, the Kensai nearly misses the presence of his wife. . . at least until he takes note of her question. The response is simple enough, by that point, one of those myriad appendages briefly breaking away from its task, if only to coil around the vulpine cryomancer and promptly send her hurtling towards the gray dragons back. And incidentally near one of those discs of hers, "Don't linger." From there, he simply resumes his focused destruction of the arena- using that particular affinity with darkness that was granted to him by virtue of being a vampire, and one of great strength, in tandem with his unnatural amount of energy, to focus more and more energy into burrowing into a chunk of the arena. In the end, the design is quite simple- demolish enough rock to create an amply sized segment, before he alters the nature of his 'aura' from the workings of loosely defined appendages- to a more insidious, solid muck. A tar-like darkness that seeks to creep around the rock he's burrowed out, and begin to heft it out from the arena. Getting it lifted above head level would be ideal, really.

A living avalanche crashes down upon Igantius as Ishataulak's pounce comes to an end. Fortunately for the undead knight, he was positioned in the entrance of the tunnel and Alessia's kiss packs a fair wallop, the two combining to not only slow the Grey's monstrous momentum considerably but also prevent her from scoring a direct hit on her tiny target. However, unfortunately for Ignatius, partially stalling nine tons of moving dragon is not enough to fully stop her, not when her own blood is being magically drawn downwards to increase her rate of descent, a fact that results in her collision decimating the tunnel and surrounding stands in a explosion of rock and scales set to bury the knight in rubble. Ishataulak has no way of knowing if she's succeeded to smashing the undead and sending him on his final trip to the void, her only concern for the moment being to disentangle herself from the heap of uprooted stones. That is, until she hears Satoshi's yelp of surprise and loudly protested, "What?! I didn't mean -right now-!" Ishataulak's head whips around in a flash at the sound of that hated voice growing suddenly closer, jaws half parted in a preparatory roar... thus creating a tooth-filled landing pad for the vulpine careening toward her. A squeak of pain, a wet squelch, and the kit disappears down the dragon's maw, leaving the Grey momentarily stunned and attempting to process her accidental devouring of one of her foes. Sneering down at the boulder-hefting Kasyr then, Ishataulak almost seems to preen at her victory. A bellow of triumph is even halfway out of the saurian's mouth, only to have it die out as a strangled squawk suddenly. For Satoshi has put claws and frigid boots to use halfway down Ishataulak's throat to halt her descent, and while she isn't exactly fond of her new found position--and the dragon's blood burning her hand from clawmarks--she has succeeded in her original endeavors. The chunk of amber stone she'd held in her hand has been dropped into the dragon's waiting belly, where it will begin to instill its magic-inhibiting abilities upon the magic-born creature courtesy of the Time Lord. But the kit is going to need a moment to gather her shattered concentration before she can hope to get herself back out of this mess, which is time enough for Ishataulak to cough, shake her head, and begin a rumbling charge toward Kasyr.

Kasyr falters for a moment, his grasp upon the 'mountainous' chunk of rock he's supporting growing somewhat more tenuous upon the casual manner in which Satoshi is devoured. -Thankfully-, their bond allows him to at least take comfort in the fact that she's still alive, though it does hinder him from simply hurling the chunk of rock at the gray dragon. Really, he can only imagine the jubilance the damnable thing must be feeling at the overall hesitance he's displaying in hurling the prodigal 'missile' he produced. That is, until he abruptly reels back, and then lurches forward- that tenebrous energy that has since engulfed a portion of the arena doing its best to mimic the motion. It's in this manner that the chunk of the arena is all but flung towards the ground, with a last moment 'shove' of the darkness that had been attached to it essentially serving as a means to send it slamming down towards the ground towards the gray dragons lower torso. In essence, Kasyr is hoping to cripple the damnable beasts front legs as best as he can- if not coax about a fairly large amount of massive trauma. That being said, he's not standing still, and hoping. Without a 'charge' to look after, the Revenant simply focuses on withdrawing that peculiar bit of darkness to his person, before promptly hustling around to a less ravaged part of the arena. Ko'tar, and the mundane sword he'd picked up earlier, are brought along for the ride, of course.

Satoshi has the difficult task of trying to hold her concentration while suffering the acidic burns dragon blood inflicts upon her clinging hand, and while being violently jostled by Ishataulak's thundering run, each footfall threatening to dislodge the kit--especially the jerky landing that comes with each step of the Grey's crippled right foreleg. Satoshi does, however, spare a short, wry thought for the fact that the Grey's unnatural determination is making the magic circle's effect minimal. All that work, for seemingly nothing... It's enough to make a mage's blood boil. And enough to give her the frustration needed to snap her focus into place, the brief span of time necessary to will the spilling dragon's blood to freeze around her hand and solidify into crimson ice. This tiny glacier is all Satoshi needs, and the disk she'd held earlier would have worked too had it not been lost in the hasty scramble to not be made into dragon chow. With it, she can enact that vampiric gift of hers as originally intended and transport her essence through this patch of frost to one of the waiting disks outside. It is a less than pleasant, if instantaneous trip, as the little vampire is apparently not spared the agonizing pain and burns that come of passing through draconic blood, frozen or not. And not a moment too soon does the scorched Satoshi reappear in open air, precariously balanced on a pocket of ice, for hardly a second later is Ishataulak's charge met with a rocky end. As Kasyr had intended, his chunk of the arena plows straight into the Grey's front legs, sweeping them out from under her and turning her momentum against her so that she's sent into a forward tumble, tail over horns. Despite thick, plated scales for cushioning, the continual impact inflicted on her body by the full length roll is a painful one with her blood so heavily weighed down and finally playing against her. As long as Kasyr can avoid the flailing dragon limbs and tail, he'll have a moment to recover while Ishataulak is preoccupied with the struggles of righting a battered body, and testing limbs to discover only three will bear her increased weight, while her right wing hangs limb and useless. Alongside this is the building sensation of nausea and dizziness, Satoshi's amber gift beginning its insidious poisoning.

Kasyr gets a look best summed up as an 'oh shi-' expression, given that the roll disaster that the gray dragon has become is rather hard to miss. Without skipping a beat, the Kensai's hand promptly darts down towards the mundane sword he's been carrying around- hastily drawing it forth, if only to point the tip towards a portion of the Arena that's -not- about to be decimated. It's at that point that the Kensai taps into the other element he has a particular affinity with (even if it was 'acquired' from another individual..when Kasyr had a more..active appetite for destruction), small pulses of electrical energy dancing along his skin. The invocation is the same as ever, with the Kensai sacrificing a portion of his body to a -literal- form of ionization, the sheer -purity- of the element he's interacting with essentially breaking down a fist sized patch of flesh along his upper right arm to effectively melt away into a mass of electrical energy. Identical, one should say, beyond the mingling of black streaks of lightning amidst those of a more 'natural' shade- though it still serves the same function, effectively granting the Revenant a brief burst of 'lightning swift' speed that sends him jetting across the area courtesy of a single violent thrust. A thrust the sword isn't exactly built for, considering a portion of the blade shatters upon its accidental impalement into the seat the Revenant ends up in front. A brief moment of shift eyes ensues, before the Kensai simply wheels around, aims at the dragon- and promptly discharges a the residual electrical energy coursing through his body into the blade; effectively sending it lancing through the air towards the side of the dragons head. At this point, he's not really expecting it to do much..beyond aggravate it, and get its attention. Which, should serve its own purpose.

Satoshi's recovery is swift, as she doesn't have the pleasure of a leisurely examination of burns or a lazy restoration of thought processes. No, there's a bundle of raging mother dragon below that's hellbent on destroying her husband. Said dragon is currently shaking her head violently back and forth, irritated by the vexsome slap it's just received from the projectile sword and attempting to force blurred vision back into focus. It'd seem the amber stone's effect is spreading rapidly, Ishataulak struggling to fix her gaze on the real Kasyr of the three unfocused ones she can see before her and unable to keep herself from swaying slightly. Satoshi leaps on this moment of hesitation by Ishataulak to once more evoke that frostborne teleportation and set herself directly behind the dragon at the very end of its stubby tail. Drawing upon her own considerable wrath, Satoshi wills Asorial into existence then, the scythe constructing itself into the vulpine's waiting grip in a gleam of malevolent light and hungrily devouring the collective auras of rage filling the area. Not a second is wasted once the weapon has feasted before it is raised overhead and swiftly plunged downward to embed itself not in Ishataulak's tail, but her tail's shadow. A jagged ripple courses from the point of contact down the inky surface's entire length, the flood of energy gathered enforcing its strength upon the dragon's shadow and sealing her in place. Even if Ishataulak is momentarily unaware of this, as her attention is fully upon the trio of hazy Kasyrs and determining if she can't smother them each with a spray of petrification liquid--after all, at least one of them has to be real, so why not aim for all and surrounding? Breath weapon spewed forth, the Grey herself isn't far behind in a sloppy, three-legged lunge... that goes absolutely no where as she's brought to a dead halt mid-leap by Asorial's teeth sunk into her shadow. At best, she might be lucky enough to accidentally catch Kasyr beneath a paw or snout as she's brought crashing back to earth with enough force to drive fissures through the arena floor.

Ignatius was angry, a dark seething rage overcoming him as he stood himself back up within the stony tomb that had been created for him from the ruin of the arena's entrance. He had been knocked around his fair share of times and had taken countless wounds in his long life but no one had ever managed to take his sword arm from him until now. Even as he stared at it, laying shattered and destroyed upon the ground, Ignatius was already filling with the resolve that he would take recompense for this travesty out of that dragon's hide. So, taking up Alessia in his left hand, the old knight began hacking and slashing away at the rock that lay before him - cleaving chunks of stone away in blinding clouds of rubble and dust. It was a slow process that saw him rather late in his return to the conflict at and but he would eventually emerge amidst a sudden explosion of rock, already charging towards the pinned dragon. "Do you know who I am?!" He was roaring furiously as he rushed that beast with swordtip dragging against the ground at his side, more dust billowing up at the sharpened point of the weapon hewed through the frozen earth. "I am The Sword of The North!" He continued yelling as he brought that sword suddenly into the air only to send it arcing down towards the ground, the blade slamming into the frigid dirt with such force that the recoil sent Ignatius' light form airborne. "I am the blade promised to neve regina!" He was still crying out as he went flinging through the air towards the dragon with sword slashing downwards yet again though this time its trajectory was clearly intended to put it on a collision course with Ishataulak's skull. "Chi diavolo credi che io sono!" He'd finish, his voice full of such rage and fury. He had not felt the lust of battle and the frenzy of hatred on him in a long time. It felt good.

Kasyrs' in motion the very moment the dragon decides to unleash her breath weapon, his body abruptly lurching down so as to make itself a smaller target, with additional preparations coming in the form of a foot pressed against a bench behind himself, whilst his right hand is thrown up in front of his face (an 'unfortunate' Ko'tar brought along for the ride). Which is about the revenant's intended means of defense makes itself manifest, as those shadows which rest upon the Revenant's person and within his vicinity surge forth to engulf his arm- coalescing into a sinister aggregate of malignant energy and darkness which takes the rough form of an overtly large gauntlet, the likes of which quite readily dwarfs the size of the Revenant who wields it. Without a second thought, that ponderous construct is sent arcing into the midst of the incoming spray- the peculiar solidity that energy has acquired serving to shield the Kensai from the brunt of the assault; redirecting that detrimental deluge in almost its entirely. So long as ones left arm, a portion of his lower torso, and patches of his hair and back aren't considered anything major. Regardless, the Kensai doesn't particularly have time to contemplate the situation, even as he can feel that odious liquid ravaging his flesh- not when he has a dragon hurtling towards his position. Instead, his focus falls upon Ko'tar, the sword which is still within his grasp- ironically resting at the core of the monstrous construct he's created. Without a second thought, the Revenant invokes that particular ability of his once more, willfully sacrificing what flesh remains upon his left arm to that particular 'price' of ionization (and sparing himself the risk of that petrification spreading), if only to redirect the built up energy into that virtuous weapon. The result is all but instantaneous, the Revenant abruptly surging forth from his position, possessed by an unnatural and electricity fueled alacrity, with naught more than a kick of his foot off the bench behind him -with a trail of black lightning, and a singular sanguine streak, left in his wake as he's sent hurtling straight towards Ishataulak's face. More specifically, as that gauntlet-esque construct of dark energy is sent hurtling towards the gray dragons face, clawed fingers outstretched to collide into it, so he can force her maw into the ground and drag it into the nearest thing capable of halting his momentum.

Satoshi devotes the better part of her attention to maintaining a grip on Asorial, and its grasp on Ishataulak's shadow, a task that does not permit the kit from partaking in the rest of the fight. In a way, that's a blessing for the Grey, for she has more than enough to contend with between an enraged undead knight, a murderous kensai, and ethereal pinning, not to mention the venomous progress of the magic-dissolving amber stone. The former, in all his foreign glory, strikes first, his aim true as Alessia connects squarely upon the Grey's horns, breaking them away with a crack of shattering stone, sending her already earthbound head all the faster downward. Ishataulak's skull slams with unnatural force into the ground--nearly knocking Satoshi flat--the rock-solid bones of her jaws reverberating from the impact as countless tiny fractures course through them like so many white-hot lances. Numerous fangs are knocked loose as well, brought together more violently than they were ever designed to be and thus tearing themselves from their roots in bloody spurts. Before the dragon can even process that she's hit the ground--courtesy of Alessia's might and Satoshi's bloodsong circle--she's inflicted with further agony, for while Ignatius' blow has knocked her head out of Kasyr's path, the kensai still has a target: her right wing. The appendage has already suffered severe damage, but that does nothing to prepare her for the pain of a blitzing revenant colliding into the wing joint and, in a less than clean cut, tearing it from the socket. Jagged bone shards fly in every direction along with chunks of flesh, muscle, and blood from a joint that's effectively exploded from its housing by raw power. For the first time Ishataulak knows the bitter taste of doubt, her usual rage-fueled confidence being steadily devoured by pain, undermined by bleeding wounds that increase the ground's pull upon her body, and disoriented by the sensation of her very essence being unraveled from the inside out. For the first time Ishataulak cannot muster the strength to defy injuries and odds, to rise back to her feet and continue on fighting while bellowing her bloodlust for all to hear. No, all the dragon can muster is a pathetic cross between a whimper and snarl as her stony form quivers beneath arcane bonds and physical wounds.

Ignatius was jarred by the force of impact, the full extent of his strike's blow traveling up his arm and into the rest of him as he slammed down atop the dragon's head. Everything was happening so quickly around him and nary a moment could be sparred as it was, if this dragon lived up the dread reputations that he had heard of her. "Cosa c'è di sbagliato? Non ti piace il bacio Alessia?" He roared out as the dragon let out her pained scream, the idea of mercy completely lost upon the knight-captain at this point. He found himself running before he had quite even caught up with his own thoughts, rage and adrenaline slowing the rationality of the mind and hastening the instincts of the body. His balance felt so off with the lack of his right arm, his stance somewhat staggered as heavy footfalls plodded across the grey's hardened scales but even this was barely noticed - his body just knew how to move, it seemed. That other wing was his target, he soon realized as Kasyr obliterated one of her flying appendages. To be sure, the dragon was probably beaten as it was but anything that might further cripple the monster was all for the better. So Ignatius leapt again and gave a wide horizontal slash towards the base of that wing, unleashing the might of his blade once more upon this dragon, a raw power augmented by both the strength of his own arm and the forward airborne momentum of his leap. There was a sound ringing in his ears all the while and for much of his maneuver, Ignatius could not place that noise. It was laughter, his laughter - a maniacal and bloodfrenzied sort of laughter, so out of place on the usually very composed undead.

Kasyr can't help but grimace as his vision becomes obscured by the bits of 'stony' debris that have made their way past the 'gauntlet', as well as the wing which remains caught within the constructs grasp. With that 'tenebrous' aura of his now serving as a hindrance, the Kensai initiates a hasty remedy to the situation: firstly, his focus upon maintaining that construct is promptly dissipated, thereby robbing it of the solidity that has kept hold of the wing till this point. Secondly, his own momentum is promptly redirected -elsewhere- , hence sparing him of the ignominious fate of running straight into the bloody mass that had accumulated in the cusp of the 'shadow' gauntlets palm. Specifically, the Revenant applies the surplus of electrical energy he had generated through the sacrifice of his arm into an abrupt about face, if only so that he can bring himself hurtling down towards the back of Ishataulak's rear right leg. Specifically, his intention is to slam Ko'tar into that particular appendage, if only so he can discharge the rest of the residual energy he's stored within himself in the form of a concentrated 'shockwave' of kinetic force, amplified several fold. Ideally, this will serve to pulverize the Grays stony 'scales' within that region, as well as decimate the interior of that limb; essentially serving as both the Revenant's attempt at further crippling his opponent whilst also being 'Charitable' towards the virtuous weapon that is serving as his companion. After all, for this particular strike- the Kensai doesn't need to unsheathe the blade given that the vast majority of the damage that could be potentially be wrought coming strictly from the thunderous technique that Kasyr is invoking.

Agony. Pure, simple, and unbearable is the breed of pain Ishataulak's inflicted with in these moments. Without the buffer of inconsolable rage protecting her from awareness or care of injury, the dragon is learning what it is to be buried beneath the smothering embrace of despair, the realization that her fate is rapidly drawing to a close and she, once a creature of ceaseless temper, thoughtless reaction, and unrelenting violence, is powerless to stop it. While these thoughts run rampant in a defeated mind, Ishataulak is left vulnerable, and she suffers for the lapse brutally. Another meeting with Alessia permanently grounds the Grey, the loss of her remaining wing transforming her into no more than a mere Wyrm. The thought is a crippling blow to her dragon's pride, a queen of sky and stone reduced to such a creature. In fact... the pain her dignity suffers far outweighs what her body feels, a pain that is rapidly rekindling the dying embers of the Grey's notorious malevolence. Defiance incarnate roars from the dragon's shattered jaws in a blast of air and her head is reared back on its short neck as it's whipped around to face the revenant in the same instant he makes contact with her hindleg. Pain. More pain. But once again pain is fuel for the fire that is Ishataulak's life force. Yes, both her right legs have now been made almost completely useless by this point, and yes eyesight is fading fast, blood is spilling freely from too many wounds, and even her weight betrays her with every movement, but Ishataulak's moments of despair are gone, and while she's prepared to embrace death this night, she is once more driven to deliver death upon these three in the process. As the Grey--out of sheer force of will--makes to whirl around, the side of her tail slams into Satoshi and Asorial, uprooting them both and sending them crashing into the arena's distant wall. Without the scythe's teeth embedded in her shadow, Ishataulak has nothing halting her from completing the rotation and thus is able to send her blood splattered maw crashing down toward Kasyr, not caring if she crushes him beneath immense weight, catches him between shattered teeth, or collides into him with a dragon's raw kinetic force. She simply wants to destroy him by any means possible. And while she's not aiming for Ignatius specifically, that thick behemoth of a tail has more than enough momentum to carry itself on a crash course for the undead. Ishataulak isn't going down with a fight, once again.

Satoshi's hatchling sacrifice has managed to avoid being squished this whole time. He's a lucky little bastard, all things considered... despite the whole born into slavery, sold to a vindictive vampire that tormented him, and being immobilized in the middle of a combat zone thing... Lucky. Yep.

Ignatius the feeling of sword cleaving through flesh and bone had helped to ease some of Ignatius' wrath, the knowledge of him taking her wing in exchange for his arm providing him some solace to cope with the loss of limb. He stood and turned with the full expectation to see a dragon rendered entirely defeated but instead found a battle that had not quite ended itself. This beast was something that Ignatius could respect and would have respected were the situation just a bit differently than what it happened to be. As it was, this beast had not only taken the lives of his queen's children but now dared to harm her. It was at that moment that his wrath had returned, a singular instance of seeing Satoshi flung aside as if she were nothing befouled the knight's mood in such a way that nothing else seemed to exist or even matter. Ishataulak would suffer for her crimes. Feet slid apart to widen his stance and brace himself as firmly upon that ground as boots and frozen earth might allow, his Alessia hanging limply at his side in the loose grip of his remaining hand. Hollowed eyes closed and a deep breath was drawn in only to be blown back out soon enough. "Vengano." He growled as that tail came swinging towards him and he thrust himself forward to meet it. Once again he seemed ready to test Alessia's strength against the might of this beast but this time, he was so full of a seething rage - one that seemed to fuel the power of a sword hewn from such a hateful creature as the deep dragons. He drew her up across his body and held the sword close against his chest, aiding its savage power with the weight of his body and the constantly building momentum of his rush - hoping against hope that perhaps the two forces colliding would cleave that tail in two upon their meeting.

Kasyr is bleeding, fairly profusely given the lack of his arm..and the fact that he doesn't actually -regenerate- like other vampires do. Given that he's strictly reliant upon either feeding upon someone or his gift kicking in (which would require the battle to be resolved, and access to blood of a non draconian nature), this places him in a somewhat dire situation. Still, even when faced with the wrath of a dragon that is -quite- focused upon obliterating him, he doesn't run- instead snapping his right arm out towards its' respective side with enough force to send the sheathe cleanly flying off. From there, it's swiftly drawn up in front of himself, so hand can neatly encircle the pommel, affording the Revenant a solid grip upon Ko'tar. No doubt, the virtuous weapon is singing a song of dismay; having been placed within the hand of an individual that seems not only -resolved- to rest within the path of an enraged dragon, but is also currently allowing an unpleasant sort of caliginous energy to pour about the blade once more. To be exact, it's that same unholy energy that has served as fuel for the Revenant's constructs earlier, and that also serves as fuel to his very existence- that palpable darkness that grants him movement. It's that conflicting energy that is being poured into Ko'tar, even as Ishataulak bares down upon the Revenant's position. With a fluid grace, the weapon is swung upwards in an arcing slash- as though Kasyr intends on defiantly carving a trench into the dragons face. Only, the slash comes just a few sparse moments early, instead leaving the melding of antithetical energies to greet the enraged dragon. Suffice to say, the ensuing explosion of holy and unholy energies that shred through the area are more than noticeable, as is the form of the Revenant being propelled clear of the blast zone, with enough force that he smashes against, the ground and bounces off it like a stone -skipping- across a ponds surface...despite the weight of his trenchcoat. Ko'tar, on the other hand, is sent screeching into the benches of the stadium. Ironically, enough, they both hit solid rock at close to the same time.

Satoshi struggles back to her feet with Asorial's assistance and uses her sleeve to wipe away the trickle of blood coursing down her singed face, sneering all the while. "My husband plays rougher than that~," is taunted at the dragon. But Ishataulak does not hear the kit's words. The Grey's attention is wholeheartedly on Kasyr, although a curious flicker of thought is spare for the spike of pain that courses down her tail followed shortly by the abrupt halt of its momentum. It'd seem Ignatius's rage and Alessia's heritage coupled are potent enough to indeed sheer through stone, scale, flesh, and bone. The knight will find himself awash in the fiery hot blood of a dragon for his efforts, but thankfully he isn't a vampire and won't suffer the acidic burns. On the dragon's other end there is a different sort of bloody mess playing out. Dragon maw meets divine and corrupt infusion head on, Ishataulak barreling straight into the explosion, its combined energies enshrouding her and blocking her entirely from view during the explosion. ...At least until her enormous form is seen sailing upside-down through the air before she's brought down like a living avalanche atop the arena's luxury box. With no wings and only two working paws, it takes a great deal of squirming before the dragon can right herself and even then her stance is a precarious one as all her weight is hefted on her left side, and the slightest movements threaten to off-balance her with half a tail missing. Nonetheless, all this combined is not enough to stop the Grey as she arches back her neck, with jaw broken and hanging limply open, before spewing out the last remnants of her breath pouch in a widespread spray. The expelled liquid is tossed across the entirety of the arena as she sweeps her head from left to right, but where the black sludge falls it does not solidify properly, instead becoming a thin, flaky stone that crumbles away under the slightest pressure. It would seem the amber stone has unraveled that aspect of the dragon's abilities as well, rendering it useless.

Satoshi, after the initial duck for cover to avoid being petrified, peeks out from behind Asorial's edge, grinning. The Time Lord is actually making himself useful. Or at least the broken pieces of one of his toys is. Either or, the kit can't complain. Although she -can- complain about the snickering hiss coming from Asorial, the scythe clearly delighted at Ko'tar's mistreatment and the keening cries it's making from where it's been embedded in a bench.

Satoshi shouted, "You broke my favorite chair, you bitch!!"

Ignatius did not pause for even a single moment, the rage and adrenaline still coursing a blazing path through dead veins. The dragon was as good as defeated but all that Ignatius could see was that Ishataulak was still alive, for better or for worse. As the beast's tail was severed and blood bathed Ignatius in sticky wetness, he was spinning aboutface to veer off to the left of the dragon with sword once again dragging its tip against the ground - stirring up that unusually large cloud of billowing dust and flecks of solid earth that he had seemed so capable of doing since his escape from the stony wreckage. "Finiamo questo ballo!" He roared as he gave a flick of the wrist to twist his blade more horizontal than vertical, bringing it up to meet Ishataulak once more at the kneecap with the furiously strong draconic blade. "Non dimenticare di usare un po 'la lingua, Alessia!" He added at the moment of collision.

Kasyr s' reaction to that final spiteful wave of 'petrifying' breath is haphazard enough, though that's somewhat understandable, given his present status of being crumpled against the arena wall. Specifically, the kensai retracts his right arm into the sleeve of his trenchcoat, if only to forcibly drag the damnable object in front of himself, a task made somewhat easier by the lack of a left arm to otherwise impede such an action. It's in this fashion that the Revenant endures that final 'dousing'; though the single shove that serves to dislodge the coat from his person (and the place where it had been loosely plastered to the wall) is proof enough that something has affected the efficiency of Ishataulak's rocky repertoire.With a single glance spared for both Satoshi and her zealous knight, The kensai simply redirects his focus to the bleachers. A quick survey of the area is enough for him to ascertain the current location of Ko'tar-what with the sword emitting a constant plaintive keening from where it rests embedded in a seat. That achievement marks a certain change within the Revenant's form, as a pair of fleshy 'mounds' begin to surge up along Kasyr's back. Mere moments transpire before an unpleasant explosion of gore erupts from his back, heralding the full emergence of a pair of leathery wings- an occurrence that has the Kensai briefly catching himself against the Arena wall, looking even paler than he did prior. Still, he can't afford to allow himself to recuperate, nor does he relish the idea of submitting to the possibility of becoming a potential threat to those present; something which essentially forces him to continue moving in his current state. It's with that in mind that he begins to glide over towards Ko'tar, so as to liberate the weapon from its current resting place. On the bright side, his current state of mind (Read: The acknowledgement that allies are within his relative vicinity), and the presence of the virtuous weapon are at least making it significantly easier -not- to go utterly berserk in this scenario.

Satoshi almost, -almost- feels a pang of pity for Ishataulak when Ignatius' blade delivers a devastating blow to the dragon's rear leg, the unnatural strength of Alessia causing scale and bone alike to shatter beneath a rippling wave of force. A short moment is spent with the Grey teetering on her remaining foreleg before the momentum of the sword strike, compromised balance, sheer weight, and bleeding face being drawn downward all ruthlessly combine to send Ishataulak toppling headfirst off the stands and crashing into the fissured arena floor. A series of short, uncontrolled rolls and an unpleasant, blood-smearing skid later result in the immense beast coming to an eventual halt at the center of the stadium, neck twisted at a sicking angle and partially extended to bring her muzzle within inches of the bound hatchling. And there she remains, the magic circle in the arena latched fiercely upon her many open wounds to tether her in place like so many invisible chains. A single functioning leg is simply not strong enough to allow her entire bulk to defy its predicament. Despite all her wrath, Ishataulak has reached the end of her ability to charge onward, trapped within a crippled body that won't even allow her to properly roar. Her solitary ochre eye swivels endlessly in its socket then as it strives to look at its three executioners through blurred vision, glaring defiance and silently daring them to finish their work. Satoshi, once she's recovered her footing from the earth-shaking crash and roll, makes a wary approach of the downed dragon, Asorial gripped tight as a precaution. Upon spotting the kit, Ishataulak attempts a snarl, although the sound dies out as a watery huff. Squeaking in response, the hatchling inches its head forward to press smooth scales to the elder Grey's grizzled snout, drawing another, softer, exhale from Ishataulak before she closes her eye slowly. 'End... it...' Despite failing lungs, damaged throat, and broken jaw, the Grey somehow manages to force out the words. Satoshi blinks and looks toward Kasyr expectantly, brow raised in a silent question of, "Are you ready, then?"

Ignatius finally gave pause as the dragon came to the end of her tumble, standing at the edge of the colloseum seating and looking down into the arena at the pathetic display that lay there - once a scourge of Frostmaw rendered to nothing more than dying kyne. The sight of her was enough to vent off all of his prior rage and leave little more than a solemn pity for Ishataulak, to see a once feared monstrosity left as little more than a cripple asking for death was hard for a warrior to watch. He sheathed Alessia, his and her duty had been done and the killing blow was for queen and king to deliver - those two deserved that much, Ignatius knew well. So he'd tip his hat downward at Ishataulak in a silent gesture of respect to the only creature that had managed to take a limb from him as he stood there awaiting that coup de grace to be given forth from grieving parents. "Quando sono in un inferno, spero di vederti ancora una volta che possiamo combattere un'altra battaglia. Sarà leggendario. " He said, a slight smile forming on his mortified face. "Until that day though, begone with you..."

Kasyr manages to wrench Ko'tar free of its resting place after a few moments, with a grimace painted on his face not from the exertion, but rather due to the 'Charitable' weapons agitated state. Hence armed, the Kensai simply bounds back into the air, those great wings of his then put to use in directing him towards Satoshi. In a sense, that flight towards his queens side carries with it a grim sort of serenity, one which is only accentuated by the manner in which he steadfastedly approaches, despite those wounds he's accrued. That being said, to assume there was no preperations underway during his flight would be a grave err. After all, once he's properly within the Ice Magus' vicinity, it would be fairly difficult to miss the patches of flesh that had been reduced to still fading sparks, the likes of which carry a shimmer to them quite akin to the peculiar radiant light that was surrounding Ko'tar. " On y va?" Those words are calmly said, as the Revenant proceeds to shuffle slightly towards the Gray dragons right side.

Satoshi shuffles to stand nearer to her kensai once he arrives, pressing her right shoulder against his left, those matching lacks of limb an odd sort of solace to the kit. Ignoring the revenant's blood her coat begins absorbing, she murmurs, "On y va." Her hold on Asorial tightens then as the scythe's form begins to shift, transforming from the wickedly curved serpent's fang to the elegant, lengthy zanbato in a shimmer of ice. Sword in hand, the magus steps forward and levels its point an inch from Ishataulak's closed eyelid, waiting for Kasyr to join her with Ko'tar. For a long moment she simply stands there, silent and unmoving, until the dragon's eye opens out of instinctive curiosity for the prolonged moment of death. It's then that the foxkin speaks, voice frigid with carefully directed wrath, "We took your treasure from you, and you did the same in return. You'll find no forgiveness or mercy from me. I wish nothing but suffering on you. And that is why, before we end this, I want you to know... -your- treasure still lives, and you will never see her." There is no word to describe the amount of vindictive pleasure the little queen takes upon seeing the immeasurable despair reflected in that ochre eye, the knowledge that Ishataulak will suffer in eternity knowing her hatchling remained forever out of her reach serving as a balm for Satoshi's own wounds. Hopefully Kasyr is prepared, because once the words are spoken, Satoshi thrusts her arm forward to plunge Asorial through the Grey's eye and straight into the brain behind it, killing Ishataulak instantly.

Kasyr has been making certain to properly mirror the motions of the vulpine Magus, something which segues neatly into properly mirroring her motions for that final blow. And truly, that's all that remains for the Kensai. For him, there are no words, wrathful or otherwise- simply the knowledge that the saurian that had obsessively antagonized his Coterie now lay dead before him, a pair of blades protruding from her eye. It's only after a moments thought that the Kensai bothers to draw the virtuous blade clear from Ishataulaks skull, making a brusque about face towards the Arenas exit. "I'm going to go feed. Likely, I'm going to see if we have any disposable prisoners." That bit of promptness aside, the Kensai begins to meander.

Satoshi remains standing beside the body awhile longer, allowing a sense of contentment to wash over her and numb the pain of wounds physical and otherwise. It's only after she's withdrawn the blade and shaken off the blood that she makes to follow Kasyr, her own need for fresh blood driving her into action. But not before she halts beside the hatchling's body just long enough to behead the unfortunate creature. It had suffered enough, and no amount of healing would mend dark injuries inflicted since birth, or so Satoshi believes. And she has no desire for a repeat of Ishataulak's vengeful rampage once a second Grey grows up. In her own way, the kit considers it a mercy. With that, she trudges after Kasyr, refusing to look back on the bloody scene. She will deal with those matters later. For now, she'll simple enjoy the fact that they've had their revenge and Ishataulak finally lies dead by their hands.

Satoshi doesn't look back, but she still salutes Ignatius before departing. Words aren't entirely necessary with the knight.

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