Round 2 - Car'mael vs Jacogos[J - Keeper of the Inn]

[Car'mael]

Not exactly the kind of angel you want...

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When she leapt up, Terhon hunched down, wings starting to retreact to his back again. His right one was slowed in folding because her blood had begun its corrosion into the metal feathers, adding an uncomfortable “warm” feeling much like nasty sunburn as it started eating a hole just below the wing-shoulder. Taloned feet extended for the floor again for traction and to halt his momentum, digging into the broken glass and send large shards flying up like ice skates cutting into a cracked pond. Twisting a bit sideways like such a skater into a halt, the Mara was crouched at first.

For the very briefest moment in time, Terhon felt again a faint taste of her blood on his feathers as that wing cut her shin, the ensuing flow of life-energy much like the sugar rush of a piece of chocolate. But again it was only a pittance for his efforts, more a mere handful of Hershey’s Kisses to the stab’s full bar, and certainly not enough to do more than perhaps aid another feather soon. Then it was over.

A shame. She tasted good.

She had landed on his back, but there was nothing to grasp (unless she wanted to try the feathers behind the bird-mask, but they were razor-sharp as those on his wings and would cut hands to ribbons for trying). The robes were more optical illusion than substance—so Uai’s blood-blades sank in without any resistance whatsoever until they hit the smooth metal scales of his hauberk beneath. A slight change of angle as she slid was enough to dig under and between that scaled armor to the flesh beneath, drawing tar-like black blood in stripes as they sliced down with her own descending trajectory and slowing her landing slightly. However, they did not strike directly to spine nor directly between wings as intended but a bit to his left and lower, from just below ribs to buttock. The blood-blades started additional corrosion to the armor around their slashes, like rust eating at an older car, making a vulnerable section to his armor. In the end, his reflexes saved him from being paralyzed but still those blood-blades cut into back muscles and hip.

Terhon hissed like a steam engine’s frustrated cry at the pain. The impudent female! How dare she cut him instead!

Instinctively moving sinuously to reverse his turn into the direction of his pain, he lashed out with his left hand’s claws to drive her away from his wounded side even as that wing’s long feather-blades continued to fold against his back under the concealment of robes, partly protecting that area by covering it half-way. As Uai slid off him entirely, his own blood pattered to the shattered glass by her feet, thick and sluggish and reeking of frankincense and myrrh. The wounds burned as if cut by heated blessed steel.

Blood, to a Mara, was Life. Their own was concentrated from the energies they fed on. Losing it annoyed them because they valued the lives they had taken and losing a lot of it pissed them off.

His own anger rising, Terhon continued with his turning momentum, straightening as he began to face her, whirling in place to take her head-on. One clawed foot staying imbedded in the glass and metal of the floor like an ice-skater’s toe-tip pirouette, the other rose to lash out and either slice or grasp like his hands. He followed her mental shields like a pit viper following body heat in the glaring brightness of the room.

The Mara would have her repay for the blood she cost him.

Uai’s earlier contribution, however, now began to be of service, though—the errosion of the feathers in his right wing slowed and stopped, the corrosion halted by his healing ability and the small life-energy she had provided him earlier.

[Jacogos]

Let no one survive!

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It was satisfying to feel the being bleed like anyone else. Feel more so than see, as the blinding arena was still too much for her poor cat-like eyes. Thankfully, she could still see enough to maneuver the blood to her bidding, which was saying something. Her attack complete, she now had to switch her mindset into defense.

His retaliation came immediately, so she still was not quite ready for it. His claw flung out as he spun, catching her across the left breast and mid-abdomen, causing her to hiss in pain, her mental barrier slipping for a mere second. She got her focus back almost immediately, though, and skipped backwards as the Mara's talon shot out in a follow-up attack. Uai was now facing the being across the arena with the mirror-less wall to her right, his left. With a little more than ten feet between them, Uai had a moment to think.

The blood was working well enough, but now she had to make a decision. She could go defensive and wait for the monster to corrode more by going into her Ghost mode, which wouldn't allow him to get much of anything as far as hits went. She could also go more offensive, bringing out her spirits to maximize how much damage she could do by alternating between using her spirits to attack and soaking him with their blood. Those, or keep on attacking as she was, forgoing the time necessary to actually summon the damn ghosts.

After a brief moment's pondering, Uai decided on offense.

Forgoing a preemptive attack with the blood so that she would have time for the summoning, she drew the blood on the field to her into a ring around her, then closed her eyes and began a quiet chant. It was short, upbeat, and pulsing, at a steady one-hundred seventy beats per minute. Her mind stayed open to the possibility of an attack while she was focusing, so she opened her eyes once she was certain the summoning was along enough that she didn't need complete focus.

"Spirits of old and spirits of night,
I call for your aid now in this glorious fight.
Surrender to my will as I call you out
And allow me to destroy this insufferable lout!"

Her chant complete, there was a chill in the air as the spirits began to funnel into the arena, barely visible through the astounding amount of light in the room. When they began to circle around Uai, though, they seemed to become more substantial, easily showing up against the bright background they blocked out. Their red eyes flashed violently when the took note of the Mara, and Uai continued to murmur the chant as they filtered into the room.

Now it was a game. If he charged her now, Uai's spirits could easily tear into him, surrounding him like a murder of crows. However, he could wait for her attack and retaliate while she was overextending her spirits. Hopefully he did not realize that, though, as she double-checked her mental walls to make sure they were solid. They were. So she would wait, hoping beyond hope that he would slip up. However, something in the way he looked at the spirits told her that it would not be that simple... If anything, he was more wary... Interesting.

[Car'mael]

Life... but not as we know it...

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The talon that raked her bit satisfyingly into flesh and drained more life-force, much to Terhon’s satisfaction. A decent hit, though she evaded the rest of his following blows by moving back for the far side of the room. He stopped, facing her, licking her blood off his talons with his tongue like a cat under the hooked beak of his mask. Yes, that would stop the bleeding of his back soon, even if it wasn’t enough to replace or heal beyond that.

The Mara paused to reassess the situation, even as he savored her taste. It was a good thing he did, for she did something odd…

The Yynglyng drew… blood to herself, making it slide off the glass by his feet and away. Now that finally explained where she was gaining her weaponry from, if she could manipulate such! Until then, Terhon couldn’t figure out what she was using against him, but she clearly had some means of attack. To be able to manipulate liquid like that, though, well, that put her on par with a water-mage in his book. Not exactly a foe he usually enjoyed facing. Still rather entertaining and likely to be an intriguing opponent all the same. Good thing he licked his claw when he did, or there would have been nothing to taste as a tangible treat at all!

His anger calmed to more observation than emotion as he watched it swirl around her, though he frowned slightly as she began chanting. He noted her mental shields were down while she focused on the chant and shrieked mentally a protest at her, the cry akin to metal claws on a blackboard, meant to distract and disorient (even now, he had no intention of attacking her mind outright--such was not a practice by Mara out of respect to the creatures they fed on). It did her no harm and certainly didn’t slow her down, but he could not abide any Summoning easily. Being a creature often Summoned himself, the Mara was disgusted that she would dare pit such against him—this was no fight of their choosing.

She was definitely Summoning… something. Well, some “things,” plural. He could sense them manifesting and whirling around her like a small cloud of birds, much as he could sense her mental shields with his strong telepathy. Spirit-creatures, by the mental presence they gave off. What limited ability he had to see them with was more akin to faint shadows flicking between the bright mirror and himself, annoying by making that flicker but lessening the light’s intensity somewhat as they gained substance.

Being of a more spiritual nature by breed, Mara were a bit more vulnerable to such creatures. His robes certainly were as easy to tear as paper, leaving openings in his visual protection. His armor handled such worse than it handled a dragon’s strike--no doubt they could bite into his metal like soft or rotted wood, and worry their way easily to flesh beneath. While he might have some ability to drain their energy and try to chase them off this plane the sooner, it was of no use to his own health--the opposite, in fact, with a tendency to make him ill like bad food upset a human. He wanted them to stay as far away as possible in that case, even though typically he closed in with foes to tear and rend and slice. Those would shred him just as efficiently, unfortunately, and weren’t worth risking proximity to at this moment when he had other options.

Terhon frowned a bit deeper and didn’t wait for her to fully finish whatever she was doing with the new spirit-creatures, reaching under his robes to rip out a handful of three to six inch feathers from his right wing’s shoulder. With a cast of his hand he flung the whole handful like daggers at her, hoping at least a couple might get past the small creatures and the blood she controlled and into her flesh.

Not waiting to have a result, he huddled in his robes and slid back into invisibility, pushing off to his left with a taloned foot on the glass.

Time was on his side. If the Mara could keep wounding her, he could outlast her, her own life-force bolstering his own. If his own feathers were not sufficient, he could throw glass at her as well to wear her down sooner. Those spirit-beasts were what concerned him, though if they were attacking him, that meant she was likely more vulnerable to his strikes at that moment.

Hmmm… that last was an interesting option to consider if the situation turned desperate...

[Jacogos]

I'm gonna laugh when I'm buried alive!!

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The Mara's piercing shriek actually did not catch her that much off guard. While her guard was down, she had little doubt that some sort of mental attack would come. In essence, it did little to delay the spirits summoning, but it certainly did chill her spine. The blood that was ringed around her shivered as well, off of the connection that the liquid had to her thoughts and will. She knew the being would notice it, and she would NOT allow it to take advantage of the momentary lapse in confidence.

In any case, it was only mere moments before the spell was finished that the Mara reached into its cloak and flung a few objects at her. She was still rather blinded by the light of the mirrors, but the light also glinted off of the steel, so she could pick out where they were at least. This allowed her to prepare her defense.

The projectiles were still in the air when she felt the spell complete, and she could fully turn her attention to her hemokinesis. Seeing the path that the steel objects were taking, Uai used as little blood as she could from the mass, using mostly the Mara's tar-like blood, and forced the blood to congeal into small plates. She positioned the plates in the objects' way, blocking three of them while letting another sail harmlessly past. However, she miscalculated the fifth, which seemed like it did as the fourth had, but actually clipped a bit of her platinum blonde hair.

Uai watched the strands float to the glass below, and felt a stab of anger. She repressed it, though. Whatever amount of vanity she had elsewhere was wasted on the battlefield. Forgetting about the slight against her ego, Uai began a counter attack.

Letting go of the plates of congealed blood, the three floating defenses dropped to the ground, the congealed blood useless to her at the moment. It took too much energy to uncongeal it, as it was going against the grain that nature had set forth. As she did this, the Yynglyng noticed that the projectiles were actually metal feathers. She stared for a moment. From his own wings? She shook her head slightly. And Uai thought she was self-harmful with her blood magic. In any case, she needed to act now while she had the spirits.

The blood could stay with her, but the spirits would go away soon. Therefor, she opted to use the latter as soon as she could, which was now. keeping the blood in its semi-protective circle around her, Uai drew the spirit-birds to her and flung a tendril at the Mara, the heads flying in a single-file line at the being. Within about a foot's proximity, they would begin ripping at him of their own accord, then return with a flick of Uai's wrist, very much like a whip, only much much deadlier.

[Car'mael]

I want my blood back now...

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Terhon did not need to see his throw to know his feathers had failed. He could feel it. There was no rush of life-energy from a hit, no addition to his healing abilities, no sound of pain from his foe. Just the thunk of them hitting her blood-made shields, the dusty flavor of used and lifeless blood, and the metallic sound of them clattering against glass. Her makeshift shields followed suit, clattering to the shattered glass and metal of the floor.

A disappointment.

Still, what life-blood he had tasted thus far had been enough to stop the bleeding of the gashes along his back and left flank, and halt the “rusting” of his armor there. So he would not be contributing further to her blood-wielding at this moment. But if throwing weapons would not gain him immediate results, the Mara had a concern. He had to get strikes in to outlast her.

He would have to risk her guardians’ ire.

Grabbing another handful of feathers from his injured left wing and pushing off again on the cracked glass of the floor, the Mara charged her again from the side. Unfortunately, his left leg was not as strong (due to his injured hip) at digging talons into the slippery shards of glass and metal covering the floor for that thrust, yet this only slowed his attack somewhat. It was not a great concern when he intended to close and stay for close combat anyway. Nor did it worry him when his invisibility held, cloaking his approach.

The sound of his launch cracking the floor further drew her attention, however, and she flung her spirit-creatures in a sort of chain in his direction. Terhon’s sense of the creatures’ limited minds warned him of the attack, and for all their bewildering configuration he dared risk not even veering from his trajectory. Instead, he sacrificed his concealment for defense—wings snapped open through his robes again, the right-hand one swinging up to both shield and deflect by slapping the “whip” out of his way.

The intention was to get close and tear and rend like a storm of blades. By trusting in his armor to defend him from her blood-blades and slow the spirit-creatures’ damage, the Mara sought to strike deep and hard enough to feed deeply. It was a matter of weighing injury to possible gain. Sacrificing in pain and injury for the benefit of incapacitating her and feeding in greater safety.

Sharp teeth gritted beneath the mask as Terhon covered that last bit of distance—those spirit-creatures did not deflect so much as attack his wing like a hoard of fire-ants! Being of a spiritual nature, they had homed in on his own strong spiritual energy even as he emerged from his invisibility. Their biting and tearing at those feathers burned as they sought to get past the metal’s defense and to the flesh of his wing, even his body beyond it. They were certainly progressing at an alarming rate.

Terhon shrieked mentally and physically at Uai even as he got close, taloned feet ready to strike the ground where she now stood and stay planted in broken mirror there for close-combat, taloned fingers swinging feather-blades like extended cat’s claws and ready to leave any success in the wound it makes. His vocal cry echoed like a stooping hawk’s, amplified and ringing in the enclosed metal and glass of the room, the first sound he had made this entire battle.

*HUNGER!* he projected at her.

Terhon wanted her life-blood to replace his own.

[Jacogos]

Shortest straw has been pulled for you!

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Instinctively pulling the whip back as soon as it was deflected, Uai realized she didn't have enough time to pull back before it struck her. She was still in the process of pulling the whip back when the Mara screamed at her and planted himself firmly in the glass in front of her. She tried to move back, but his claws tore into her side, the very one that had been struck by the venom in the last battle. The venom and its latent effects were gone now, but the strike still seemed to hurt even more than it should have.

She was a few feet back now, but the glass cut into her feet still. She quickly removed any talons from her skin and decided that it was basically down to all or nothing now. The being had decided to come close quarters, even though it was obvious that her spirits and her blood magic did massive damage to it. She had realized, though, that the thing had stopped bleeding. This was either an advanced healing factor or something else.... Based on its original deal, she was willing to bet it fed off of her energy when it struck. Which meant no doubt she just gave it a massive boost. Watching the wing that she had hit with her spirits, she was not surprised to see that it was regaining its feathers.

Wonderful.

In this case, stakes just got a lot higher. For every hit she allowed him, she would get twice over that far behind, as she would be healing him as well as taking the hit... If this was true, she needed to end it. Now. So she had to decide. Use this massive amount of blood that could sear through his armor and into his flesh... Or go with the spirits that would not only distract him, but do damage as well...

With stakes this high and every hit traded counting, she had to go with one that would up her chances of escaping. Quickly, Uai changed positions to one where the Mara would be looking directly at the blinding light and Uai would be looking at the broken wall on the opposite side of the room. Then, dropping the blood, Uai stood her ground and put all of her force into a massive strike with her spirits. The blood fell to the ground in a pool around her, splattering with a sickening sound as at least two pints hit glass. She could still reclaim the blood if needed, as it was still usable, but she required all her concentration in this single attack. The spirits formed together into a cohesive unit, every last one of them spreading across the room into a thick line of tearing beaks. Then, using all of her strength, Uai swung the rope-whip towards the Mara, hoping that its mass would prevent it from jumping over the rope. She could move it a little upwards it he jumped immediately, but if he waited, the momentum would be too great.

Her last hopes resided on this attack. If it missed or if the spirits did not fully occupy him, she was a sitting duck while the bird heads struck at him. Upon any part of the tendril hitting him, the rope would break off and surround him, much like they had when the Doctor in her previous match used his cane to wrap the chord around it and defend her attack.

[Car'mael]

In honor of two warriors at an end... a lament of sorts.

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Another, more satisfying strike this time, with feathers lingering in her side until she yanked them out by hand. Terhon felt the rush of energy filling him as she danced back and to the side, trying to evade his swinging talons and escape further harm. He could hear her feet crunching on the broken glass, sense her change in position mentally--though seeing her was another matter when his eyes were starting to water from the brightness behind her, scarlet tears dripping beneath his mask.

Of course, she would choose to try moving so the light affected him more. Such was the ways of creatures of daylight. They each thought it mattered, that little advantage. But he had seen many such live and die at his hands. Terhon was old.

She had retreated again, more so into the brightness, but he had no choice but to follow. Those spirit-beasts had eaten a good half of the feathers off his right wing, down to the flesh at the wing-tip, which now bled slow drips of tar-like blood to the broken glass and clawed metal of the floor. It hurt, for now. Considering their effectiveness against his armor, Terhon could not sit idle—he had no lasting defense against such, and once his feathers and armor were gone (or, worse, his robes), he would be at much of a disadvantage in any further fighting. He could not allow her to rip those away like shelling a shrimp. So he had to force the fight back to her. Then he had hopes of outlasting her and keeping some defense against her creatures by using her own life to heal those damages.

Ducking his head for his hood to help shield him against the light, eyes squinted near shut, Terhon used his other senses to orient his attack even as he turned to face her, focusing on them and fighting blind. He could feel her gather those spirits into a thick line, see her drawing it back and swinging for him. There wasn’t room in this arena to evade, not for him—he was tall, the ceiling short, the walls closer than he preferred with a wingspan his size. So he didn’t try.

With the tenacity and determination Mara are known for, Terhon kicked off the slippery floor and leapt right for Uai, right into the path of her attacking whip!

Wings swept up and overhead, crossing at the wing-shoulders in a protective fashion instinctively, he smashed right into the spirit-birds. They ate into his remaining feathers, tore into his armor, shredded at his robes with burning pain, making him clench teeth as he endured the vicious attack. But that was a sacrifice Terhon had chosen, one he had made before in facing a mage’s fire to take out the caster.

Even unprotected, so long as a Mara kept his finger-talons, he was always deadlier than an unarmed man!

The spirits were no solid barrier to stop him. Terhon’s feet smashed to the floor in front of Uai again, heavier than before, sending glass spraying (though his own feet bled as well this time). Wings swept his attackers back, sacrificed to their fury along with his back as he sought to reach their mistress. He landed within arm’s reach, black blood running down his shoulders, his legs, his arms in thin, slow, tendrils from the creatures’ bites that had penetrated armor, only remnants of the latter remaining in tatters on his body, his robes as shredded as a lich’s. Uai’s beasts had revealed him for what he was, at long last—what looked much like a lithe and tall man, dragon-like feet, clawed hands, long black-silver hair flowing about his shoulders. His mask and hood shredded away, black blood tricking from his hair and marking an ear, Terhon’s face was finally visible as well: almost angelic if stern features set into a feral smile, sharp teeth slightly visible at the quirk of the side of his mouth, ice-blue inhuman eyes a-gleam with a triumphant hunger even as scarlet tears ran down from them.

<You fought well, child… I am proud to have tasted Yynglyng…> the Mara told her. Taloned and bloodied hands reached out to grasp Uai’s shoulders, intending to draw her into a close embrace and dig those sharp nails deep into her flesh even as her protectors sought to wrap around him like a swarm of starving piranha.

He could not be certain her life-force would be enough to spare his own body from failing, and he might be forced to lose his substance entirely, spirit retreating to the Shadow Planes again. There, if his spirit survived long enough against other voracious creatures of similar abilities, he could possibly consume enough to be substantial and return to the Material Planes again… maybe… The last time he had done so, another Mara gave its life-force for him to recover. This time, he might not be so fortunate, or he might fight his own way back... But such chance was the way of things, as every Mara knew. Heaven, Hell, by some God or Goddess’ side—that was not their fate.

It had been a good fight, nonetheless. Predator and Prey, together like this… was a noble end for both.

[Koti~]

Okay that fight was… amazing. The compromise to the room at the beginning, the music and slow feeling of each other out, and way to two traded blow for blow was great, and in lovely taste. So, to the details.

Jacogos: Your character was an interesting one to see, the high regards to a person raised on fighting, as well as an interesting power that I don’t see that often.

Writing: your wording and styling was clear and concise, easy to read yet having plenty of detail to make sense of the flow of action. It was not halting or jarry, but explained what each attack would do, and was a great read

Attack: Your attacking I found very interesting, using your skills to keep a distance instead of getting up close, showing off your own long reach and far off skills, while detailing your attacks and the effects were great.

Summary: Your ability to trade hit for hit and desire to take damage while using it to your advantage was great. As well as you were able to react to Car’mael’s attaks and use his weaknesses against him while figuring them out was made for a great read, and an interesting battle.

Now to Car’mael

Car’mael: Your description of your character and your usage of wording gave great insight to Terhon and The mara race as a whole, which made the fight all the more interesting to read and learn about, giving a sense of his age along with the fight.

Writing: Reading your posts were a great relief, and gave the feeling of age, hunger, and reaction and fight was amazing. You played out each scene well, and allowed hits to be scored, while gaining some for yourself in the mix, which made it all the more interesting

Attack: Here you did quite well, adding your own mix of far range and close combat, detailing the attacks close and far, covering quite the range of attack. The self-sacrifice to attack your opponent as well was worth the read, and was interesting to follow.

Summary: To anyone, you are a great opponent to go against, because you are not only willing to take damage, but inflict it yourself to deal as well. You versatility with long and short range, makes for a great battle, as well as adds excitement to the match and makes it enjoyable to read.

OVERALL SUMMARY:

This was an amazing fight to read, from the hatred to Thunga at the beginning, the compromise to each other to help each other out in the field, and trade of damage for attack drew me in. The thought process each went through for each attack and possible response when your opponent responds is great and was great to see your thought processes while thinking of the fight was great, and made it all the more difficult to judge who the winner is.

So, without any further ado, the winner is …

CARMAEL!!!

This came down close, and I mean close to the wire, and was one heck of a battle to judge, but Carmael did a great job, and did well with leading his attacks and the deal was a nice touch. So congrats Car’mael


Thunga appeared in a roar of thunder as Tehron suck his fang into his meal, and he laughed

“Oh what a great match you two, what a great match. Lets dim the lights though” Thunga said, picking up one of the Mara’s feathers and tossed it at the light source, shattering it with ease.

“Now, go rest and be ready for your next round!” Thunga said with pride as he warped away the nightmare, returning the girl to her homeland for a proper burial, the room vanishing with a pop.