One post each, best one win.
Senleth:
name: Sentleth Longboar
age: 236 but looks 189 (in dwarf terms so in human about 40)
race: dwarf
gender: male
P.description: 4 foot 2 medium lengthed dark brown beard braded into 3 strands quite chubby brown eyes and dark pink skin
M.description: calls everyone lad or miss no matter what age, likes booze, thinks most of his jokes are funny but most aren't, likes to party, gets angry if he see's something to do with beastmen being killed or injured, quite a long temper but when it breaks he gets VERY mean, and can do magic.
Clothing:dark green large cloak heavy clad armour with spikes on knees and shoulder pads a helmet with wings under his armour is red wool which is still visible through the gaps in his armour under his armour is a brown shirt quite rugged and black trousers also quite rugged
Weapons and armour:i just explained armour, a small double bladed but single handed axe forged by the beastmen and blessed by the beastman lord, large double handed battle axe, staff of forsaken ice, single handed hammer forged by the dwarf lord himself and blessed by him, 5 throwing knives, a crossbow with 400 crossbow bolts.
abilities/spells: ice bolt, vine trap, fire bolt, forsaken ice, frost armour, flesh beast, power of nature, stun, beastic aura, lightning of the anvil, re-generation, re-incarnation, retract, telekenesis, telepathy, maddening voice, and summon dragon.
religion: worships the beastmen and dwarfen lord
fears: nothing
backround: dark elves destroyed what he called home and family with his dwarf relatives only he survived he went to live with the beastmen in lustria and did so and lived in peace for a further 50 years then high elves destroyed that settlement but purely by accident as they didn't mean to Sentleth has forgiven them so Sentleth has sworn to destroy all dark elves he sees.
***
His post:
Sentleth slowly peered at the board which now read,
Nightblade Vs. Sentleth.
He grabbed his axe and walked towards the middle of the arena where Nightblade was already stood, Sentleth shook Nightblades hand and said "Good Luck!"
Sentleth walked to his spot and turned to face Nightblade, *Ding* the bell went to signify the start of the fight, the second Sentleth heard the ring he lept forward at Nightblade hitting him in the cheek with theside of his axe, even though the swing was powerful Nightblade didn't seem to be phased, Sentleth ducked and dodged several attacks from Nightblade, "haha, is that the best you got?" he said sarcastically as he swung at Nightblade's legs causing him to fall to the floor Sentleth stood up and said sarcastically "get up then it's not finished yet!".
Sentleth moved back and grabbed his single handed axe and hammer, he ran for Nightblade hitting him Symultainiously in the headand chest, he stopped and with 1 powerful blow he hit Nightblade in the face with the hammer sending him flying to the other wall, Nightblade crawled to his feet.... his face was full with anger, he charged for Sentleth hitting him atleast 4 times in the head then 1 powerful blow to the stomach, Sentleth flew hitting and scraping along the floor all the way to the end of the arena his head slightly hit the wall.
Sentleth got up and dropped his 2 single handed weapons which fell to the floor at his feet with a *clang*, he grabbed his battle-axe and ran for Nightblade, axe held high, he sliced several times at Nightblade leaving many scars, he turned around and span back round axe held out hitting Nightblade causing him to fall to his side, painfully trying to get up Nightblade pushed with his hands, before he had a chance to get to his knees Sentleth stood with 1 foot on his back pushing him back down, he then rested his axe on Nightblades back and kicked him over, spinning him round, Sentleth held out a hand, Nightblade took his hand thinking that it was a gesture to help him up, But Sentleth threw him up and hit his axe in his back making him fly to the wall face first, Sentleth sheathed his axe and helped Nightblade back to his seat "good fight!" he said cheerfully!
Nightblade's:
"What!?" Senleth shook up and down, his little dwarf belly and beard wiggling up and down, and the small chair almost fell over behind him, and Lurg of Norsca who was the only one able to stand his stench looked up from his ale briefly, only to resume his "I'm-not-interested-at-all" look.. The dwarf's famous temper had precisely gone a tad bit too far at the news from head coach Matthias. "Are ye claiming that I am to fight a vile dark elf, ya do?"
"Yes, I do." he replied steely, taking a small step backwards. The little dwarf would have been quite cute where he bounced up and down, hadn't it been for his awesome stench of boar droppings and several different litters. His dark, pink skin was practically drowned in dirt, and even to Matthias almost numb nose the smell was repulsive.
"And I can't kill him?" added Senleth with an ugly grin on, grasping his hammer's handle hard while it still hung in the belt. The offensive posture and the small, glittering and black eyes in the dwarf's head glimmered maliciously. Having the temper of a bear, although it rose very slowly, could be a disadvantage. Matthias wrinkled his nose, hating to repeat himself.
"No." a certain frown on the dwarf's face, it growing scarlet underneath the dirt and beard, followed by relaxation. He seemed to have come to a visual conclusion: Whipping the elf in battle would do just as fine, as their arrogance wouldn't allow a dwarf to best them. Matthias understood this, since his thoughts had gone the same way in his youth when he had been duelling.
"Who is this lad then?" a reply came again, a long while after the last due to excessive thinking. The small, coal-like eyes looked around as if he though that dark elves hid in every corner, and the strands of dark beard flowed over his stomach's chainmail as the back crouched back in the comfortable, small-size chair made by a local carpenter.
"I really can't tell you, sir.." The human gladdened at the smaller ones withdrawal from temper, but the question invoked new and troubling questions in his head, and subconsciously he raised his eyes to the stone ceiling. Several long discussions about this subject had flourished in the local tavern during break when the elf had arrived on foot, his boots drenched in a putrid smell of blood and his face stalwart and grim. The eyes though.. he shivered as he continued and let his trying eyes fall back to the dwarf's. "But from what I've gathered he's quite an enigma."
The conversation was interrupted. The guildhall was a quite busy and loud place, with warriors of several different standings coming to relax and have their delicious, expensive and most importantly sponsored meal, all coming and leaving through a steady and almost ancient door fit with brass ornaments. A brawny barbarian and a dizzy mage sat and have breakfast at noon, for no apparent reason, and a lone amazon had trouble with getting a halfling of her foot as it tried to get up in her knee and have a feel at her cuirass. It seemed like the sounds and brawls were impenetrable and would go on forever, and it fit most of them fine. But suddenly it became a little less busy and loud, and seconds later it became absolutely at loss of voices.
From behind the large, wooden door came a scream of pure regret and dread, and the candles flickered violently in the room as the portal was smashed down by a large, male body flying through, propelled by some violent force. It hit the cold, stone floor with its back first, gliding a few more feet before stopping with his head in the wall. Blood flowed from the rowdy man's nose, and the eyes looked in front of them as if they had seen death itself and couldn't let go of their sight. Those close by heard a small murmur and gurgle, and small yanks in the chin indicated that the man was trying to call for help, but his smashed throat was probably the reason why he couldn't speak. The eyes fixed sternly at the door, and he raised a bloodied hand that trembled more than pointed.
From over the debris of the ruined door, in from the darkness outside, strode a tall and shrouded silhouette. A face of feline, raw beauty was framed by white, long hair broken by two pointy ears and with the occasional platinum bang hanging down in front of the left eye. The eye caught extra attention, as it was as dark as the night it had entered from with exception of small flare and hint of red. Scarlet blood dripped from a great, silvery gauntlet with a massive ruby set at its front. The weapon sat firmly on the person's right hand, and it joined the slow and fluid pace of its owner with stern and ghostly elegance. The clothing, with a black kimono and cape joint with purple robes underneath, showed of excellent styling and the fine piecemeal armour underneath glimmered as spot-free as the rest of the appearance.
Under total silence, he walked over to the man who trembled even harder, eyes rolling now, and stood still for a moment before sinking down on his knees. Thin lips whispered something with eyes halfways closed, and the already pale man became totally silent and it looked as if the elf's words had killed him, drained him of all blood, spare for the violent breathing. The right hand of the mystery being plucked a small bag of the same black silk as the kimono from inside the man's tattered and broken clothing.
"Matthias of Silvertongue, do remove this villian. You will have his full confession of several murders and robberies as soon as he regains speech or writing capabilities. " spoke the elf to Matthias in a voice of utter darkness, sounding as if he had been placed in hell's bottom plane all the while he spoke. He did this while looking in front of him, reading from the chart of combatants. Matthias, bewildered and flamingly heated in his face at both the sudden events and the strange voice, looked from man to limp body and limp body to man before nodding weakly. Before he could reply, the elf added an extra line. "And please see my meal served at my room."
With those words, the elf took a wide stride over the man, hiding his pouch from the world inside his kimono and fluently strode out the door. Exactly as Matthias was going to call out, a single gem flew in the doorway and bounced thrice with a piercing sound before laying still. The blue face of an asur star glowed in candlelight, and swiftly Matthias seized the gem while leaving the dwarf's company without any second thoughts.
"Laddy, tell me if ya can. who the heck was that? Sumekinda model ogre?" Senleth asked with tone of still anxiousness, a bad joke filling out, all the while leaning towards the last man near him. Lurg lifted his head from the plate of raw meat, wiped a small string of blood from his chin and answered roughly before grasping his ale to swallow down.
"Hurr.. Nightblade, methinks." he promptly ignored the dwarf's lousy way of trying to give laughter. In his eyes, even a hyena eating its own guts was funnier.
"That's Nightblade, eh.." the dwarf's eyes went from the door to the broken man at the floor, now being dragged away by two guards all the while the while the surroundings were gaining impetus again. He took some reinforced tone, as if to reinforce his own words so he could believe them himself. "Almost looks challenging, but my hammer shall bring him down!"
"Dun count on id. I woke up dis nite and saw thad man do fings wit ha sword I never tfought possible. Ant then we haf his reputation.." the words came out a bit harshly and unclear, due to an excessively big piece of meat stuck in his mouth, but Lurg made his point pretty clear with his hands. The big knife spluttered small drips oxblood as he franticly gestured, and Senleth blinked to avoid eye-contact with the picnic food of the barbarians.
"No worries, lad. This dwarf can handle himself, and he'll be an easy piece o' cake." added Senleth to himself more than anyone else, reinforcing his good mood and sure attitude with a swig of ale. Lurg muttered once or twice in a language Senleth couldn't understand, but he understood the others doubts. His knuckles paled to white at the enormous power when he grabbed his axe. Although he would never admit it, he had a few of those himself..
***
"Prepare to get smashed, elfling!" Senleth screamed again over the cheering crowd's enormous ruckus. With his right hand he lifted up his war axe, and for a moment he pointed its silvery head towards the opposite side of the arena with a defiant face of victory before he grabbed it with two chubby hands. Calmly, he and the crowd awaited a biting reply from the towering, black-clad elf that so far hadn't moved a muscle since he arrived. Even Lendinel's call of battle hadn't affected the other.
Kalar didn't reply. His gaze was resolutely fixed in the floor in front of him, and the only thing close to movement in his posture was the billowing cloak wrapped around him and the wind catching the white, flowing hair. Something was indeed mocking with not replying a death threat in such a ceremonial rite as a duel, and the crowd screamed mock words to him. The dwarf was favourite, since many of them thought that the elf in the corner was just looking too good to be true. The dwarf had a grim attitude and a mean axe. The elf didn't even carry any visible weapons. But from the far up level where the heroes and lords sat, not a single sound could be heard. You could though see a few of them shake their heads in disbelief at this scene, and the veterans had a mad glint in their eye. They knew, and didn't guess.
"Cat got your tongue, laddy?" he bellowed again, this time gaining impetus and agreement from the surroundings, and has he glimpsed over his shoulders he saw quite a few friends and battle-brothers of his cheering to his aid and laughing at the silent figure. The grin dissipated as he saw his opponent still stand still, and when he took a trying step forward the other didn't even care. This act of silence was mocking to Senleth's retinue and himself, as in the ways of dwarves and beastmen alike it was custom to win in both word and battle.
"Can't ya at least answer me, pointy bugger!?" raged he this time, and the crowd's cheers dissipated. The dwarf had started to lean forward and shout foul words, and those who had children with them covered their heirs ears and looked with distaste at the smelly little creature. Many of Senleth's brothers behind him also made quite a few, vivant gestures of seizing this folly and to start battle instead. But something did at last happen.
With a simple gesture, Kalar Nightblade released his cloak from around him with the left hand, slowly letting it fall behind him, and this act was revealing that he held a massive weapon. Its form was intriguing yet simple; its hue black as midnight and smooth as maiden skin. Runes of ancient design spread down the hilt of the blade in a straight line, ending with fading into black at midway. The crowd became a bit more silent as they grasped for breath, and the elf took this moment to slowly raise his black eyes and met up with Senleth's. In this exact moment, the runes on the hilt started to flow.. slowly at first, then impeding with precision. Crimson light flooded from them, glowing in the daylight, and the elf's eyes locked on to the dwarf's with a glow of red.
The dwarf staggered at first, his expression altering from dark-red to ashen, and the axe he had held in front of him during taunting seemed to increase in weight, thus falling to the ground with the hands still wrapped tightly around the wooden handle. What the dwarven warrior experienced was obviously frightening, and for moments they stood glaring at each other. But the battle was lost before it begun, and Senleth dropped his eyes to the sandy ground, knowing that this phase was doomed. Far inside, the rage of being mocked at this way exploded, but still he couldn't speak..
"..You deserve not a reply; I'm more concerned with holding my breath." the dark voice said, echoing across the arena with unchallenged priority. His eyes still grasped and craved Senleth's being, but the dwarf's anger was too resolute. He elevated his head in defiance and shouted at the top of his lungs.
"WHADDAYA SAY!?" as this was the drop that made the cup to freeze over; Senleth was angry. He normally was a calm dwarf. Slow to anger, slow to calm. But this pale elfling, this tall tower of malice; this challenger was, in the most fitting words, pissing his great being off. He grasped his axe and regained control over his body, and rose it in front of him. He felt the crackling power of magic surrounding him, and he grinned satisfied when he saw for his inner eye the fancy elf being consumed in a blazing fireball.
"You tire me, dwarf. Instead of your blatant taunting, attempt a kill as I know your heart's desire is; and give your promise not to hold back." The elf continued, letting go of him and showing his attention to the people sitting atop the stadium. They had started to gain confidence again, and some of them cheered a bit on the dwarf and one or two actually rooted loudly for Kalar's favour.
"FIGHT THEN, AND DIE YA SCUM!" he screamed, again, at maximum power while his small but impressive body mass started to hurtle towards the lone, silent elf. A blood-crazed crowd now exploded to maximum, and cheers, taunts and not to mention rude words echoed all the way to the next lush village, some three miles away. Needless to say, battle had commenced.
***
Neither a single man nor woman took their eyes of this standard charge. The dwarf had lowered his axe to the right side, and twisted the twin-blade to an angle that told a veteran warrior that a nice slash that could decapitate limbs was to be attempted. The bellowing dwarf had a sure stance, keeping close to the ground while moving almost sideways with great pace, and in only a matter of seconds had he reached Nightblade at the other end of the arena.
The sun caught the axe and the glittering armour, and the powerful slash that was thrown against Nightblade looked as if it was going to kill the elf right away, but in a blur of movement the black shape had evaded to his left, the dwarf's right, and thus removing himself effectively from the area of the slash. All the while the axe missed wide of its target, and the war cry somewhat struggled to remain intact as Senleth realised that he was fighting thin air, Kalar moved backwards a little more to put yet again good space between himself and his opponent.
The posture Kalar now had was almost the same as before, mockingly standing leaning with the right hand on his sword's grip and the black clothes billowing slightly in the same pace as the hair. The only change was small but important: The stance between his legs had widened with the right foot in front of the left and a little more space between the shoulders. Alas, the sword now was to the right of his body instead of in front of it.
"You have three more chances." Kalar whispered under his breath so that only Senleth could hear, his eyes steady on the beard, but the dwarf was too busy with turning around violently and avoid stumbling over the midnight cape on the ground where Nightblade had stood mere seconds before. Senleth sneered as his chosen reply and changed tactics instantly, darting first to the right and then to the elf, spinning the axe furiously around him. The whizzing blade cut air around him, and yet again the crowd held breath and wondered if the dwarf would be able to kill of the elf; it was clear that it was impossible to sidestep such an attack. On the ledge high above them, Lendinel had risen and addressed a runner, his face stern, and his eyes showing his disrespect for such lethal moves. The rules were clear: No killing.
Kalar's face didn't show any feelings yet, and only those really observant of warriors could catch a glimpse at the suddenly tightening body that started to lower itself. The dwarf cleared further closer, and when it seemed like Kalar would suffer a great blow to his waist he again did an impressive and calculated manoeuvre. Having taken to the sky, the crimson knight and bane of Red-Teeth avoided a mortal wound, and although he hung still for mere fraction of a moment the crowd couldn't believe their eyes, and they cried out in disbelief as an armoured boot connected with the behind of Senleth's head and sent him flying hard into the ground, nose first and sand spraying up in his eyes. The axe flew out of his grip and landed a few feet away with a low thud near the wall, dividing the fighting pit and the observatory, where the crowd sat.
Taking ground with a low thud and a small cloud of dust, Nightblade looked down in the ground all the while Senleth rose from the ground with blood and sand across his already dirty face. Hatred that only dwarves could muster surrounded his whole aura, and his heavy panting and wheezing breath could be heard even by the closest observers. "Two.", Kalar whispered to his dwarven adversary before the clang of metal caught his attention.
He turned around in time to see Senleth grinning wildly, his face covered in a shell of blood and sand. In his hand he held a throwing dagger, and from underneath his clothes he seemed to produce yet another. Surprisingly though, he was not the only one to grin; Kalar smiled at him with predatory satisfaction and his white teeth glimmered in the sun's rays.
"Smile all ya want, then die!" Senleth said it ha mean look in his eyes, and while Kalar saw four men in the corner of his eyes, obviously rushing to stop the duel, he tensed again and his hand grasping the hilt with the gauntlet prepared for challenge. So far, the dwarf had fought exactly as he had anticipated and he wasn't glad with his opponent, just that he had been able to foresee it all so far. The dwarf was an open book..
The Soul Bane was brought up in time to parry the first hurtling projectile, sending it flying straight up in the bright sky with a whizzing sound, and as he leaned forward he brought the blade around in a full arc close to the body, whipping it forward with one hand and effectively cutting the second on off in flight. The knife was split into two separate parts that divided perfectly to avoid Kalar and to lose enough speed not to hurt anyone.
Before Senleth could swallow yet another failure, Kalar had holstered his weapon on the back with lightning speed and thrashed forward in a blur of speed that brought up the dust behind him split-seconds after he had left the spot. He saw Nightblade's gauntlet rise to a perfect position to strike, close to his right waist and the tribal dwarf prepared for impact, now having raised his hammer. Kalar took stance, and a wide leap sent him flying weapon first towards him, hurtling the last two feet. But the blow that Kalar sent of missed wide of its target, splicing the air a few inches above his head with a metallic sound, and Senelth almost shouted high of happiness as Kalar took ground a few feet behind him with the crowd screaming high in anticipation. The elf was a clumsy fighter after all! But when he reviewed the events, he reaches a conclusion that the air didn't sound metallic, and when he looked behind hi mat the still elf he saw his own, deformed throwing dagger in his gauntlet. "Last chance." Kalar said briefly as he turned around and looked at the now almost dizzy Senleth. He reached a conclusion; he was being toyed with! He had to end this now!
The air crackled with energy. He raised his hammer in front of him, and formed with his barely aware mind a fireball at the end of his weapon. The pure energies circled him, and with yet another thought channelled the destructive powers inside his already ablaze orb, which grew larger. He smiled and spoke then under his breath, eyes halfway closed due to the massive concentration, "Dodge this!" The invocation ended with a surge of power, his eyes carefully focused on Kalar's black figure, and the kineticly loaded fireball was sent forward with massive speed and velocity, and much like Kalar's boost it tore the sand from underneath its path, its searing flames heating the crowd even though they were far away. Before Kalar was engulfed entirely in a ball of imploding flames, the whole arena saw him lift an eyebrow..
The crowd had been passive in these events, gasping for breath and pausing only to sip some ale, but now they cheered at full. Smoke billowe out all around the arena, and a wave of heat spread over the low colosseum, sending small clouds of sand out. Senleth alone was seen at the battlefield, the dwarf sunken to his knees due to extreme drainage of fatigue. The firebolt had been too much, and the kinetic energy toppled him over. He wasn't a mage good enough for such spells, but he cheered out a roar with his last powers.
"VIIICTORY!"
His eyes closed once.. he felt a surge of heat. The cloud of smoke was tight around the area where the dark elf had stood, and he sure that he had killed him. He felt so good about himself tah the didn't even care about the rushing guards that now was halfway on the arena, they too impeded by the events in the battle and lord Lendinel stood from his eat on the balcony with his eyes tightly focused on the spot where his own eyes laid. He opened the eyes, and before he closed them again due to lack of energy, he saw something inside the loud.. a shadow, a silhouette? His mind froze to ice, and fear grasped his heart. He opened them again, and stared into the black pits of silence, originated from his nightmares last night.
With mocking stillness, the arena silent as a grave, Kalar Nightblade released the Soul Bane from its blocking position and held the blade out in front of him, edge pointing towards Senleth. His clothes were scorched at places, and his skin had gained a little black edge, but overall he was unscathed. Not a single hair seemed to be amiss. He strode forward, fast and unmercifully, ignoring the small dwarf's lack of strength.
He reached his opponent, and released a web of attacks that traced crimson flames in the air around him, three slashes of perfect accuracy perfected since long millennia. It took elven vision to trace them accordingly, and the people on the arena saw but a blur of movement before Kalar ended up with the sword in hand, but those gifted saw the first slash cutting sideways near the belly, the second following but from the opposite side and the third setting ablaze something in the absolute middle. Clear though was three metallic rings that exploded due to the massive impact, and the lefthanded blow that sent Senleth flying backwards screaming was almost as appaling. Kalar took a moent before he looked down at Senleth's hide, but when he did so he did it hard and his tone followed suite.
"Hmph. You weren't even worth my while. The smell of yours was tougher to handle."
With those words, Nightblade left the beardless and broken dwarf to his tears all the while guards, now accompanied by medics, came running down the arena in pursuit of aid. The cape was carefully picked up from the ground, and he walked out right past the place where the extravagant firebolt had been evaded and sent to the ground by a well-placed blow of the Soul Bane's blade. The crowd didn't know what to do for a while..
.. but as Lendinel rose and pronounced the winner, they figured that the elf had certainly been the true victor since the start, and the village, a distant three miles away , had to clasp their ears and sigh at the chanting of something as strange as "Smellbane"!
Senleth:
name: Sentleth Longboar
age: 236 but looks 189 (in dwarf terms so in human about 40)
race: dwarf
gender: male
P.description: 4 foot 2 medium lengthed dark brown beard braded into 3 strands quite chubby brown eyes and dark pink skin
M.description: calls everyone lad or miss no matter what age, likes booze, thinks most of his jokes are funny but most aren't, likes to party, gets angry if he see's something to do with beastmen being killed or injured, quite a long temper but when it breaks he gets VERY mean, and can do magic.
Clothing:dark green large cloak heavy clad armour with spikes on knees and shoulder pads a helmet with wings under his armour is red wool which is still visible through the gaps in his armour under his armour is a brown shirt quite rugged and black trousers also quite rugged
Weapons and armour:i just explained armour, a small double bladed but single handed axe forged by the beastmen and blessed by the beastman lord, large double handed battle axe, staff of forsaken ice, single handed hammer forged by the dwarf lord himself and blessed by him, 5 throwing knives, a crossbow with 400 crossbow bolts.
abilities/spells: ice bolt, vine trap, fire bolt, forsaken ice, frost armour, flesh beast, power of nature, stun, beastic aura, lightning of the anvil, re-generation, re-incarnation, retract, telekenesis, telepathy, maddening voice, and summon dragon.
religion: worships the beastmen and dwarfen lord
fears: nothing
backround: dark elves destroyed what he called home and family with his dwarf relatives only he survived he went to live with the beastmen in lustria and did so and lived in peace for a further 50 years then high elves destroyed that settlement but purely by accident as they didn't mean to Sentleth has forgiven them so Sentleth has sworn to destroy all dark elves he sees.
***
His post:
Sentleth slowly peered at the board which now read,
Nightblade Vs. Sentleth.
He grabbed his axe and walked towards the middle of the arena where Nightblade was already stood, Sentleth shook Nightblades hand and said "Good Luck!"
Sentleth walked to his spot and turned to face Nightblade, *Ding* the bell went to signify the start of the fight, the second Sentleth heard the ring he lept forward at Nightblade hitting him in the cheek with theside of his axe, even though the swing was powerful Nightblade didn't seem to be phased, Sentleth ducked and dodged several attacks from Nightblade, "haha, is that the best you got?" he said sarcastically as he swung at Nightblade's legs causing him to fall to the floor Sentleth stood up and said sarcastically "get up then it's not finished yet!".
Sentleth moved back and grabbed his single handed axe and hammer, he ran for Nightblade hitting him Symultainiously in the headand chest, he stopped and with 1 powerful blow he hit Nightblade in the face with the hammer sending him flying to the other wall, Nightblade crawled to his feet.... his face was full with anger, he charged for Sentleth hitting him atleast 4 times in the head then 1 powerful blow to the stomach, Sentleth flew hitting and scraping along the floor all the way to the end of the arena his head slightly hit the wall.
Sentleth got up and dropped his 2 single handed weapons which fell to the floor at his feet with a *clang*, he grabbed his battle-axe and ran for Nightblade, axe held high, he sliced several times at Nightblade leaving many scars, he turned around and span back round axe held out hitting Nightblade causing him to fall to his side, painfully trying to get up Nightblade pushed with his hands, before he had a chance to get to his knees Sentleth stood with 1 foot on his back pushing him back down, he then rested his axe on Nightblades back and kicked him over, spinning him round, Sentleth held out a hand, Nightblade took his hand thinking that it was a gesture to help him up, But Sentleth threw him up and hit his axe in his back making him fly to the wall face first, Sentleth sheathed his axe and helped Nightblade back to his seat "good fight!" he said cheerfully!
Nightblade's:
"What!?" Senleth shook up and down, his little dwarf belly and beard wiggling up and down, and the small chair almost fell over behind him, and Lurg of Norsca who was the only one able to stand his stench looked up from his ale briefly, only to resume his "I'm-not-interested-at-all" look.. The dwarf's famous temper had precisely gone a tad bit too far at the news from head coach Matthias. "Are ye claiming that I am to fight a vile dark elf, ya do?"
"Yes, I do." he replied steely, taking a small step backwards. The little dwarf would have been quite cute where he bounced up and down, hadn't it been for his awesome stench of boar droppings and several different litters. His dark, pink skin was practically drowned in dirt, and even to Matthias almost numb nose the smell was repulsive.
"And I can't kill him?" added Senleth with an ugly grin on, grasping his hammer's handle hard while it still hung in the belt. The offensive posture and the small, glittering and black eyes in the dwarf's head glimmered maliciously. Having the temper of a bear, although it rose very slowly, could be a disadvantage. Matthias wrinkled his nose, hating to repeat himself.
"No." a certain frown on the dwarf's face, it growing scarlet underneath the dirt and beard, followed by relaxation. He seemed to have come to a visual conclusion: Whipping the elf in battle would do just as fine, as their arrogance wouldn't allow a dwarf to best them. Matthias understood this, since his thoughts had gone the same way in his youth when he had been duelling.
"Who is this lad then?" a reply came again, a long while after the last due to excessive thinking. The small, coal-like eyes looked around as if he though that dark elves hid in every corner, and the strands of dark beard flowed over his stomach's chainmail as the back crouched back in the comfortable, small-size chair made by a local carpenter.
"I really can't tell you, sir.." The human gladdened at the smaller ones withdrawal from temper, but the question invoked new and troubling questions in his head, and subconsciously he raised his eyes to the stone ceiling. Several long discussions about this subject had flourished in the local tavern during break when the elf had arrived on foot, his boots drenched in a putrid smell of blood and his face stalwart and grim. The eyes though.. he shivered as he continued and let his trying eyes fall back to the dwarf's. "But from what I've gathered he's quite an enigma."
The conversation was interrupted. The guildhall was a quite busy and loud place, with warriors of several different standings coming to relax and have their delicious, expensive and most importantly sponsored meal, all coming and leaving through a steady and almost ancient door fit with brass ornaments. A brawny barbarian and a dizzy mage sat and have breakfast at noon, for no apparent reason, and a lone amazon had trouble with getting a halfling of her foot as it tried to get up in her knee and have a feel at her cuirass. It seemed like the sounds and brawls were impenetrable and would go on forever, and it fit most of them fine. But suddenly it became a little less busy and loud, and seconds later it became absolutely at loss of voices.
From behind the large, wooden door came a scream of pure regret and dread, and the candles flickered violently in the room as the portal was smashed down by a large, male body flying through, propelled by some violent force. It hit the cold, stone floor with its back first, gliding a few more feet before stopping with his head in the wall. Blood flowed from the rowdy man's nose, and the eyes looked in front of them as if they had seen death itself and couldn't let go of their sight. Those close by heard a small murmur and gurgle, and small yanks in the chin indicated that the man was trying to call for help, but his smashed throat was probably the reason why he couldn't speak. The eyes fixed sternly at the door, and he raised a bloodied hand that trembled more than pointed.
From over the debris of the ruined door, in from the darkness outside, strode a tall and shrouded silhouette. A face of feline, raw beauty was framed by white, long hair broken by two pointy ears and with the occasional platinum bang hanging down in front of the left eye. The eye caught extra attention, as it was as dark as the night it had entered from with exception of small flare and hint of red. Scarlet blood dripped from a great, silvery gauntlet with a massive ruby set at its front. The weapon sat firmly on the person's right hand, and it joined the slow and fluid pace of its owner with stern and ghostly elegance. The clothing, with a black kimono and cape joint with purple robes underneath, showed of excellent styling and the fine piecemeal armour underneath glimmered as spot-free as the rest of the appearance.
Under total silence, he walked over to the man who trembled even harder, eyes rolling now, and stood still for a moment before sinking down on his knees. Thin lips whispered something with eyes halfways closed, and the already pale man became totally silent and it looked as if the elf's words had killed him, drained him of all blood, spare for the violent breathing. The right hand of the mystery being plucked a small bag of the same black silk as the kimono from inside the man's tattered and broken clothing.
"Matthias of Silvertongue, do remove this villian. You will have his full confession of several murders and robberies as soon as he regains speech or writing capabilities. " spoke the elf to Matthias in a voice of utter darkness, sounding as if he had been placed in hell's bottom plane all the while he spoke. He did this while looking in front of him, reading from the chart of combatants. Matthias, bewildered and flamingly heated in his face at both the sudden events and the strange voice, looked from man to limp body and limp body to man before nodding weakly. Before he could reply, the elf added an extra line. "And please see my meal served at my room."
With those words, the elf took a wide stride over the man, hiding his pouch from the world inside his kimono and fluently strode out the door. Exactly as Matthias was going to call out, a single gem flew in the doorway and bounced thrice with a piercing sound before laying still. The blue face of an asur star glowed in candlelight, and swiftly Matthias seized the gem while leaving the dwarf's company without any second thoughts.
"Laddy, tell me if ya can. who the heck was that? Sumekinda model ogre?" Senleth asked with tone of still anxiousness, a bad joke filling out, all the while leaning towards the last man near him. Lurg lifted his head from the plate of raw meat, wiped a small string of blood from his chin and answered roughly before grasping his ale to swallow down.
"Hurr.. Nightblade, methinks." he promptly ignored the dwarf's lousy way of trying to give laughter. In his eyes, even a hyena eating its own guts was funnier.
"That's Nightblade, eh.." the dwarf's eyes went from the door to the broken man at the floor, now being dragged away by two guards all the while the while the surroundings were gaining impetus again. He took some reinforced tone, as if to reinforce his own words so he could believe them himself. "Almost looks challenging, but my hammer shall bring him down!"
"Dun count on id. I woke up dis nite and saw thad man do fings wit ha sword I never tfought possible. Ant then we haf his reputation.." the words came out a bit harshly and unclear, due to an excessively big piece of meat stuck in his mouth, but Lurg made his point pretty clear with his hands. The big knife spluttered small drips oxblood as he franticly gestured, and Senleth blinked to avoid eye-contact with the picnic food of the barbarians.
"No worries, lad. This dwarf can handle himself, and he'll be an easy piece o' cake." added Senleth to himself more than anyone else, reinforcing his good mood and sure attitude with a swig of ale. Lurg muttered once or twice in a language Senleth couldn't understand, but he understood the others doubts. His knuckles paled to white at the enormous power when he grabbed his axe. Although he would never admit it, he had a few of those himself..
***
"Prepare to get smashed, elfling!" Senleth screamed again over the cheering crowd's enormous ruckus. With his right hand he lifted up his war axe, and for a moment he pointed its silvery head towards the opposite side of the arena with a defiant face of victory before he grabbed it with two chubby hands. Calmly, he and the crowd awaited a biting reply from the towering, black-clad elf that so far hadn't moved a muscle since he arrived. Even Lendinel's call of battle hadn't affected the other.
Kalar didn't reply. His gaze was resolutely fixed in the floor in front of him, and the only thing close to movement in his posture was the billowing cloak wrapped around him and the wind catching the white, flowing hair. Something was indeed mocking with not replying a death threat in such a ceremonial rite as a duel, and the crowd screamed mock words to him. The dwarf was favourite, since many of them thought that the elf in the corner was just looking too good to be true. The dwarf had a grim attitude and a mean axe. The elf didn't even carry any visible weapons. But from the far up level where the heroes and lords sat, not a single sound could be heard. You could though see a few of them shake their heads in disbelief at this scene, and the veterans had a mad glint in their eye. They knew, and didn't guess.
"Cat got your tongue, laddy?" he bellowed again, this time gaining impetus and agreement from the surroundings, and has he glimpsed over his shoulders he saw quite a few friends and battle-brothers of his cheering to his aid and laughing at the silent figure. The grin dissipated as he saw his opponent still stand still, and when he took a trying step forward the other didn't even care. This act of silence was mocking to Senleth's retinue and himself, as in the ways of dwarves and beastmen alike it was custom to win in both word and battle.
"Can't ya at least answer me, pointy bugger!?" raged he this time, and the crowd's cheers dissipated. The dwarf had started to lean forward and shout foul words, and those who had children with them covered their heirs ears and looked with distaste at the smelly little creature. Many of Senleth's brothers behind him also made quite a few, vivant gestures of seizing this folly and to start battle instead. But something did at last happen.
With a simple gesture, Kalar Nightblade released his cloak from around him with the left hand, slowly letting it fall behind him, and this act was revealing that he held a massive weapon. Its form was intriguing yet simple; its hue black as midnight and smooth as maiden skin. Runes of ancient design spread down the hilt of the blade in a straight line, ending with fading into black at midway. The crowd became a bit more silent as they grasped for breath, and the elf took this moment to slowly raise his black eyes and met up with Senleth's. In this exact moment, the runes on the hilt started to flow.. slowly at first, then impeding with precision. Crimson light flooded from them, glowing in the daylight, and the elf's eyes locked on to the dwarf's with a glow of red.
The dwarf staggered at first, his expression altering from dark-red to ashen, and the axe he had held in front of him during taunting seemed to increase in weight, thus falling to the ground with the hands still wrapped tightly around the wooden handle. What the dwarven warrior experienced was obviously frightening, and for moments they stood glaring at each other. But the battle was lost before it begun, and Senleth dropped his eyes to the sandy ground, knowing that this phase was doomed. Far inside, the rage of being mocked at this way exploded, but still he couldn't speak..
"..You deserve not a reply; I'm more concerned with holding my breath." the dark voice said, echoing across the arena with unchallenged priority. His eyes still grasped and craved Senleth's being, but the dwarf's anger was too resolute. He elevated his head in defiance and shouted at the top of his lungs.
"WHADDAYA SAY!?" as this was the drop that made the cup to freeze over; Senleth was angry. He normally was a calm dwarf. Slow to anger, slow to calm. But this pale elfling, this tall tower of malice; this challenger was, in the most fitting words, pissing his great being off. He grasped his axe and regained control over his body, and rose it in front of him. He felt the crackling power of magic surrounding him, and he grinned satisfied when he saw for his inner eye the fancy elf being consumed in a blazing fireball.
"You tire me, dwarf. Instead of your blatant taunting, attempt a kill as I know your heart's desire is; and give your promise not to hold back." The elf continued, letting go of him and showing his attention to the people sitting atop the stadium. They had started to gain confidence again, and some of them cheered a bit on the dwarf and one or two actually rooted loudly for Kalar's favour.
"FIGHT THEN, AND DIE YA SCUM!" he screamed, again, at maximum power while his small but impressive body mass started to hurtle towards the lone, silent elf. A blood-crazed crowd now exploded to maximum, and cheers, taunts and not to mention rude words echoed all the way to the next lush village, some three miles away. Needless to say, battle had commenced.
***
Neither a single man nor woman took their eyes of this standard charge. The dwarf had lowered his axe to the right side, and twisted the twin-blade to an angle that told a veteran warrior that a nice slash that could decapitate limbs was to be attempted. The bellowing dwarf had a sure stance, keeping close to the ground while moving almost sideways with great pace, and in only a matter of seconds had he reached Nightblade at the other end of the arena.
The sun caught the axe and the glittering armour, and the powerful slash that was thrown against Nightblade looked as if it was going to kill the elf right away, but in a blur of movement the black shape had evaded to his left, the dwarf's right, and thus removing himself effectively from the area of the slash. All the while the axe missed wide of its target, and the war cry somewhat struggled to remain intact as Senleth realised that he was fighting thin air, Kalar moved backwards a little more to put yet again good space between himself and his opponent.
The posture Kalar now had was almost the same as before, mockingly standing leaning with the right hand on his sword's grip and the black clothes billowing slightly in the same pace as the hair. The only change was small but important: The stance between his legs had widened with the right foot in front of the left and a little more space between the shoulders. Alas, the sword now was to the right of his body instead of in front of it.
"You have three more chances." Kalar whispered under his breath so that only Senleth could hear, his eyes steady on the beard, but the dwarf was too busy with turning around violently and avoid stumbling over the midnight cape on the ground where Nightblade had stood mere seconds before. Senleth sneered as his chosen reply and changed tactics instantly, darting first to the right and then to the elf, spinning the axe furiously around him. The whizzing blade cut air around him, and yet again the crowd held breath and wondered if the dwarf would be able to kill of the elf; it was clear that it was impossible to sidestep such an attack. On the ledge high above them, Lendinel had risen and addressed a runner, his face stern, and his eyes showing his disrespect for such lethal moves. The rules were clear: No killing.
Kalar's face didn't show any feelings yet, and only those really observant of warriors could catch a glimpse at the suddenly tightening body that started to lower itself. The dwarf cleared further closer, and when it seemed like Kalar would suffer a great blow to his waist he again did an impressive and calculated manoeuvre. Having taken to the sky, the crimson knight and bane of Red-Teeth avoided a mortal wound, and although he hung still for mere fraction of a moment the crowd couldn't believe their eyes, and they cried out in disbelief as an armoured boot connected with the behind of Senleth's head and sent him flying hard into the ground, nose first and sand spraying up in his eyes. The axe flew out of his grip and landed a few feet away with a low thud near the wall, dividing the fighting pit and the observatory, where the crowd sat.
Taking ground with a low thud and a small cloud of dust, Nightblade looked down in the ground all the while Senleth rose from the ground with blood and sand across his already dirty face. Hatred that only dwarves could muster surrounded his whole aura, and his heavy panting and wheezing breath could be heard even by the closest observers. "Two.", Kalar whispered to his dwarven adversary before the clang of metal caught his attention.
He turned around in time to see Senleth grinning wildly, his face covered in a shell of blood and sand. In his hand he held a throwing dagger, and from underneath his clothes he seemed to produce yet another. Surprisingly though, he was not the only one to grin; Kalar smiled at him with predatory satisfaction and his white teeth glimmered in the sun's rays.
"Smile all ya want, then die!" Senleth said it ha mean look in his eyes, and while Kalar saw four men in the corner of his eyes, obviously rushing to stop the duel, he tensed again and his hand grasping the hilt with the gauntlet prepared for challenge. So far, the dwarf had fought exactly as he had anticipated and he wasn't glad with his opponent, just that he had been able to foresee it all so far. The dwarf was an open book..
The Soul Bane was brought up in time to parry the first hurtling projectile, sending it flying straight up in the bright sky with a whizzing sound, and as he leaned forward he brought the blade around in a full arc close to the body, whipping it forward with one hand and effectively cutting the second on off in flight. The knife was split into two separate parts that divided perfectly to avoid Kalar and to lose enough speed not to hurt anyone.
Before Senleth could swallow yet another failure, Kalar had holstered his weapon on the back with lightning speed and thrashed forward in a blur of speed that brought up the dust behind him split-seconds after he had left the spot. He saw Nightblade's gauntlet rise to a perfect position to strike, close to his right waist and the tribal dwarf prepared for impact, now having raised his hammer. Kalar took stance, and a wide leap sent him flying weapon first towards him, hurtling the last two feet. But the blow that Kalar sent of missed wide of its target, splicing the air a few inches above his head with a metallic sound, and Senelth almost shouted high of happiness as Kalar took ground a few feet behind him with the crowd screaming high in anticipation. The elf was a clumsy fighter after all! But when he reviewed the events, he reaches a conclusion that the air didn't sound metallic, and when he looked behind hi mat the still elf he saw his own, deformed throwing dagger in his gauntlet. "Last chance." Kalar said briefly as he turned around and looked at the now almost dizzy Senleth. He reached a conclusion; he was being toyed with! He had to end this now!
The air crackled with energy. He raised his hammer in front of him, and formed with his barely aware mind a fireball at the end of his weapon. The pure energies circled him, and with yet another thought channelled the destructive powers inside his already ablaze orb, which grew larger. He smiled and spoke then under his breath, eyes halfway closed due to the massive concentration, "Dodge this!" The invocation ended with a surge of power, his eyes carefully focused on Kalar's black figure, and the kineticly loaded fireball was sent forward with massive speed and velocity, and much like Kalar's boost it tore the sand from underneath its path, its searing flames heating the crowd even though they were far away. Before Kalar was engulfed entirely in a ball of imploding flames, the whole arena saw him lift an eyebrow..
The crowd had been passive in these events, gasping for breath and pausing only to sip some ale, but now they cheered at full. Smoke billowe out all around the arena, and a wave of heat spread over the low colosseum, sending small clouds of sand out. Senleth alone was seen at the battlefield, the dwarf sunken to his knees due to extreme drainage of fatigue. The firebolt had been too much, and the kinetic energy toppled him over. He wasn't a mage good enough for such spells, but he cheered out a roar with his last powers.
"VIIICTORY!"
His eyes closed once.. he felt a surge of heat. The cloud of smoke was tight around the area where the dark elf had stood, and he sure that he had killed him. He felt so good about himself tah the didn't even care about the rushing guards that now was halfway on the arena, they too impeded by the events in the battle and lord Lendinel stood from his eat on the balcony with his eyes tightly focused on the spot where his own eyes laid. He opened the eyes, and before he closed them again due to lack of energy, he saw something inside the loud.. a shadow, a silhouette? His mind froze to ice, and fear grasped his heart. He opened them again, and stared into the black pits of silence, originated from his nightmares last night.
With mocking stillness, the arena silent as a grave, Kalar Nightblade released the Soul Bane from its blocking position and held the blade out in front of him, edge pointing towards Senleth. His clothes were scorched at places, and his skin had gained a little black edge, but overall he was unscathed. Not a single hair seemed to be amiss. He strode forward, fast and unmercifully, ignoring the small dwarf's lack of strength.
He reached his opponent, and released a web of attacks that traced crimson flames in the air around him, three slashes of perfect accuracy perfected since long millennia. It took elven vision to trace them accordingly, and the people on the arena saw but a blur of movement before Kalar ended up with the sword in hand, but those gifted saw the first slash cutting sideways near the belly, the second following but from the opposite side and the third setting ablaze something in the absolute middle. Clear though was three metallic rings that exploded due to the massive impact, and the lefthanded blow that sent Senleth flying backwards screaming was almost as appaling. Kalar took a moent before he looked down at Senleth's hide, but when he did so he did it hard and his tone followed suite.
"Hmph. You weren't even worth my while. The smell of yours was tougher to handle."
With those words, Nightblade left the beardless and broken dwarf to his tears all the while guards, now accompanied by medics, came running down the arena in pursuit of aid. The cape was carefully picked up from the ground, and he walked out right past the place where the extravagant firebolt had been evaded and sent to the ground by a well-placed blow of the Soul Bane's blade. The crowd didn't know what to do for a while..
.. but as Lendinel rose and pronounced the winner, they figured that the elf had certainly been the true victor since the start, and the village, a distant three miles away , had to clasp their ears and sigh at the chanting of something as strange as "Smellbane"!
