Round two [Conquistador-vs-Paladin]-Judge Kris

[Kris]

Spoiler:  

The sound of dripping water makes you be aware of your surroundings, as though you been asleep the entire time. It is hard to see at first, but your eyes slowly get used to the dim light. The air is smelly, and you can barely breathe it in. What's more, every breath you take slowly turns to vapor, as you realize how cold this place is.

Metallic looking walls, handmade, grotesque, unnatural, but in his bizarre way, it forces you into a round circle to be used as yet another arena. However, you cannot help but feel a bit uneasy around here. The huge metal cogs, that seemed to suffer time and rot, the fact that you don't know exactly where you are, the poor illumination, and the weak breathing chances, makes this place be very threatening.

But you know that people used to live down here, maybe making studies of sort, as you noticed a lot of unfamiliar heavy looking equipment. This place was made to suffer extreme conditions, maybe cold, or heat? maybe even being used undersea or... maybe down the depth of the earth?

While you do not have a lot of space maneuver, you do notices many tunnels around you, and as you try to locate where they could connect to, or where they could be headed to, you start to look around and up above you and notice even move small platforms just above you and around you.

It doesn't make you feel any better about this space, in fact, you start to wonder if you should be trying to move up or not.

---

Hello!

While I did give you some visualize image and descriptions, I will allow you to freely make your own mind about this place.

I expect you guys to give your all, and to pull it through.

Do notice that each of you will be given only 1 extension, as we do want to make sure this even proceed on time. However on cases of rough RL events (yeah life can bite us in the ass sometimes), I may allow even more than one extension, but please try to make it on time, and if you can't, just let me know, no hard feelings.

Okay, let's go over the dry rules

You have 5 posts per person and 72 hours to respond between posts.

After making three posts each, you need to wait for me to post before you can continue.

By the flip of a coin, Conquistador will go first.

[Holeypaladin]

The first thing the naga noticed was how incredibly... cold this new environment was, compared to the flaming forest in which his last match had taken place. Clearly, he had won... due largely to the fact that his previous opponent had made little effort to fight back, preferred flight over fight. However, perhaps due to the ease in which he had dominated his opponent, and his superior performance in an environment inflamed... this new place, strange and exotic in every way, had the opposite problem. He was... cold. So very cold. And if he could not find a way to warm up soon... the proud Conquistador would be facing a most humiliating defeat.

As his opponent had not yet arrived, it seemed he, at the very least, had the initiative. Focusing on some of the memories of his early life... the sweet, sweet conquests that had fueled his desire and ambition... he closed his eyes. Memories of wine and women began to fill his thoughts... beautiful young naga girls, the daughters of his father's friends, and the pleasures of young adulthood. They wouldn't do him much good in this fight... focusing on them would only distract him from the violence he would soon be partaking in... but they could, at the very least, give Señor Ramirez a motivation to conquer his opponent and return home victorious... as if the elation of conquest itself wasn't enough.

Opening his serpentine eyes, the scene before Antenor's eyes was... different, than it had been when he closed them. No longer did the visual spectrum of humans paint the exotic location before him, but a different spectrum entirely. Of course... heat vision. Very useful for hunting warm-blooded prey, as the jungle foliage would not be enough to conceal them... but in this case, a means of finding warmth in this cold, cold climate.

The naga slithered through what seemed to be a fortress of narrow metal corridors. As for the purpose of this place, and the odd devices that seemed to be everywhere... he had no clue, nor did he had time to think about it. Instead, he made his way towards a source of warmth... the brightest spot in his peripheral vision. He approached... what he could only describe to be some sort of circular doorway, with a sign overhead which read "ENGINEERING."

As he made his way into the room, the naga's gaze settled on the source of heat... a pile of coal, smoldering and nearly extinguished. Though he wasn't a blacksmith, he knew enough about fires and forging from having observed the smith who forged his own arms and armor, as well as those who had created the weapons used by his armies, to at least stoke the flames and bring them back to life.

Slowly he began to shovel more coal onto the pile, picking up the bellows to blow air, feeding the weak flame. With each pump of the bellows, more heat began to radiate from the forge-fire... or whatever it was... and with each pump, more energy to fuel his cold-blooded physiology. This was how he would overcome the cold, unfamiliar landscape.... by feeding a fire, and staying close enough to this heat source to properly defend himself.

The clang of metal announced the arrival of his opponent, and without turning to face him, the snake-man spoke. "Buenos Dias, Señor Paladino," the Conquistador greeted the Scotsman. Of all the opponents remaining in the tournament, only one would clang so loudly... so he needn't look at the man to know who he was. "Uno momento, por favor. I think this cold place could use a good fire, no? As a knight of honor yourself... would it not be better to fight your opponent on even ground, rather than resorting to cheap tricks like a dirty peasant? If you would be so kind as to help me feed the flames... we can soon proceed to murder each other like gentlemen momentarily."

[RedKayne]

A Knight of Honor

---

My soul is cursed.

There was a quiet reawakening. Brutus MacTavish slowly inhaled and filled his lungs with oxygen, yet the air itself smelled rancid. There was a brief sense of nauseation that quickly passed when he slowly opened his eyes to view the new reality. The area was incredibly dim and his vision took time to adjust. Meanwhile, his body shivered from the environment's cold temperature.

Finally, the Paladin obtained situational awareness and scanned around with his dark-brown eyes. He was in an artificial arena with silvery walls and several passageway entrances. Some form of civilization presided within these walls, but clearly, time itself decimated this place. The signs of rotten pipes and scattered equipment displayed that living denizens haven't entered this arena for aeons. There were several platforms above that appeared to be within jumping distance, but he saw no need to utilize them yet.

Brutus took another deep breath and then flexed his fingers as if ensuring complete control over his body. He felt the weight of his kite shield strapped to his left forearm, and his flanged mace hung from his waist. It was a comforting feeling to recover his weapons once more.

It felt like a few minutes ago, but he was in a harrowing battle with a bloodthirsty vampiress. Suddenly, he was taken away from that battle and placed in an abyss of lost memory. There were several flashes of his past life and many ghostly whispers of forgotten voices, but he still needed more puzzle pieces to clear the gray haze in his mind.

His opponent was nowhere in immediate sight, and so the Steel concluded it was best to explore the ruins. He exited the arena and approached one of the several corridors, which radiated a small sense of warmth. The ambient air was cold and felt like tiny daggers against his exposed skin, but the Paladin's heavy steel armor kept his body temperature sustainable. The Steel held no concerns for hypothermia, especially once the adrenaline of combat kicks in.

It was incredibly difficult to discern the location of this fortress of metal. The Scotsman couldn't tell if he was underground or above the surface. He couldn't tell if he was within a lost underwater city like the legendary Atlantis or even an alternate reality. There was only an eerie feeling that this was a godforsaken place that suffered a major catastrophe from a time long ago.

Yet, the Steel continued forth, steady with his resolve to eliminate the next adversary.

Brutus's metallic greaves echoed across the hallway with each heavy step. He wasn't a silent assassin and so anybody could hear his approach. However, the Paladin was a frontline warrior and didn't need the element of surprise. He was still confident with his combat skills as he approached an illumination at the end of the corridor.

MacTavish reached the opening of a circular doorway which signified the entrance for the engineering room. Brutus paused at the doorway and then his eyes fell upon the abomination.

That monstrosity is a curse.

It was a humanoid-sized creature with a serpentine body. Its blue-scale skin glistened from the nearby forge, yet there were several fresh burn scars scattered across his body. It's large tail swayed as the abomination appeared to be shoveling coal into the forge in a desperate attempt to find warmth. Its muscular torso was built like a grizzled knight, which signified its natural strength and probability of being skilled with close-quarter combat.

"Buenos Dias, Señor Paladino."

The serpent, still with it's back towards the Paladin, strangely spoke with a Spaniard accent. The Scotsman wasn't too knowledgeable with the language but understood that the context held greeting. The creature continued with its exertions and fed more coal into the forge, still not properly paying any heed to his opponent.

As a knight of honor yourself... would it not be better to fight your opponent on even ground, rather than resorting to cheap tricks like a dirty peasant? If you would be so kind as to help me feed the flames... we can soon proceed to murder each other like gentlemen momentarily."

Throughout the entire greeting, the Steel held a stoic expression. The naga reverted to a common language and knew Brutus's identity as a Paladin. Yet, the Steel's reputation didn't precede him considering the somewhat noble request of the serpent. As a knight of honor...

Brutus formed an amused smirk as he deducted the serpent's identity. He was certain he was facing the Conquisitor, the regal Antenor Ramirez. The slayer of countless innocent lives, the ruthless and cunning warlord that craved for the blood of humans. The Paladin was familiar with the stories during his time in the Order, and now he came face-to-face with one of humanity's greatest menaces.

"Of course, allow me to help," the Steel said, almost gladly as he approached the Conquisitor's right side. The typical human wouldn't be too comfortable standing next to a towering snake, capable of devouring them whole with its gigantic maw, but the Paladin didn't show any signs of fear. His gauntlet-fingers wrapped around a shovel leaning against the wall and then firmly grasped the shaft with both hands.

The Paladin glanced at the serpent beside him, who continued to feed fuel into the forge. The Scotsman wasn't completely familiar with reptilian biology or anatomy, but the warmth of the forge seemed incredibly important for the abomination to delay the battle.

He glanced back at the forge and thrust the shovel into the coals and then paused. "Unfortunately, there are no rules in battle," Brutus's devious smirk began to widen. "There is only victory. Or, in your case, defeat," the Steel sharply turned the shovel and swept it out of the forge, which sprayed the hot-fire coal against the front of the naga. Several of the small projectiles aimed towards the serpent's face, intending to severely burn the monstrosity.

Your existence is nothing but a bane to humanity. I sentence you to a painful death.

[Holeypaladin]

Though the naga appeared to pay little heed to his opponent, in truth he was calculating... listening closely to every movement. Any sudden movements would instantly alert the Conquistador... while he calculated his next move. Paladin orders from his homeland were known for being honorable, chivalrous caballeros, who would face othercaballeros, such as himself, face to face, with no trickery... only an honest contest of skill at arms, for training purposes.

In his memory, he recalled many such duels that he had fought. Training matches, in his early childhood, usually against other noble scions of various families. These duels were typically fought with training weapons... blunted swords and padded armor, primarily, as a good gambeson provided more than sufficient protection against such weapons.

Of course, in his young adulthood, these duels had typically been of a much more violent nature. Duels of honor... typically trial by combat. So long as he won each fight, he could prove his innocence in court... despite all his dalliances with the wives of these weak caballeros, who lacked the skill at arms necessary to defend the honor of these putanas. Each victory taught the Conquistador more about knights... their fighting styles, the weak points in their armor, and how to exploit their honor and capitalize on it.

He had already grasped the shaft of the halberd at his side by the time the paladin grasped the shovel in his hands. Glancing over in the man's direction, he could read the man's movements enough to see that he was preparing himself for some sort of deception... and when he thrust the shovel into the coals, he knew exactly what was coming.

As the paladin began the motion to throw hot coals at him, the naga's lightning reflexes reacted, quick as any snake. A twirl of his halberd, and the haft of the weapon delivered an upward impact to the haft of the shovel, causing the coals to instead fly high, falling all over the room. Some of these coals fell into puddles of dark liquid, which ignited into flames themselves around the room. However, the twirl of motion had just begun...

Continuing the same motion, the naga spun the head of his halberd in a counter strike, aimed at an opening he created by knocking the shovel aside. Well aware of the protective abilities of plate armor, he also knew the weak points... and how to break through them. His spun concluded with a strike... not with the blade of the polearm, but with the spike on the reverse end. Penetrating plate was impossible with most any weapon... but penetrating the mail that protected the joints of such armor was exactly what the spiked beak of his halberd was designed for. This particular strike was aimed at the joint between the paladin's pauldron and the base of his helmet... a blow to the neck which could easily prove fatal without some sort of incredible skill and luck on the part of his opponent.

Just as his reputation had proceeded him, so too had the reputation of the paladin order known as the Order of Steel. The Scotsman's accent, along with his complete lack of honor, indicated that he was indeed the only remaining paladin of this order... the peasant-born Brutus MacTavish. "Such a lack of honor does not suit a proper caballero," the Spaniard said after concluding his strike, referring to the attempted surprise attack. "But I suppose one born a peasant will always be a peasant... never a true caballero. I suppose it is because of such peasant cowardice that you're the only survivor of the Order of Steel, si? As your hermanos de batalla fell one by one... you alone survived, too cowardly to save them or die with honor alongside them. That shovel suits you far more than any other weapon."

As he said this, the naga coiled up his snake tail, the tip of his polearm directed at the paladin's throat. From this position, Brutus was well within his range... and it was clear that any such attempt to discard the shovel in order to draw his mace could prove fatal, as he could instantly exploit the state of lowered guard. Unlike the eating utensils used by the paladin's previous opponent, the Conquistador's halberd was a weapon designed to kill knights in heavy armor, just like Brutus MacTavish... and it was very good at what it did.

[RedKayne]

The Bane to the Most Unholy

---

He's quick.

The naga-beast reacted like a viper, striking swiftly and effectively against the shovel's shaft. The hot coal showered around the combatants and ignited several small puddles up in flames. The Conquisitor shifted the halberd and aimed the spiked-end towards the vulnerable joint between the Paladin's neck and shoulder. It was a very calculated maneuver despite the serpentine's short timeframe to react to the deceptive attack.

Brutus immediately deduced that this battle would be much more challenging compared to the last one against the vampiress assassin. Within the first strike alone, the naga proved to be a swift and calculating powerhouse. In terms of brute strength and combat style, the reckless MacTavish was at a disadvantage. Regardless, the Paladin remained extremely confident that he will finish this tournament victoriously.

By attacking the naga's right side, Brutus's shield-arm was much closer to the abomination. The Steel's muscle memory took over after the shovel was struck aside. He released the grip on his shaft and allowed the makeshift weapon to fall immediately with a raucous clank. His left forearm formed an inside-out blocking motion and raised the shield to deflect the swinging spike.

You are the Paladin, bold and unmoving,
You can withstand the horrors of the night,
and make the unholy quake before you.

A ghostly whisper passed within the gray fog of lost memories and he recalled two different Blessings from the Order. The Blessing of Protection is his absolute defense and allowed him to deflect any attack. However, it needed to be used wisely because the Blessing can only activate a few times. The second Blessing, the Blessing of Resolve, was constantly active and allowed the knight's body to withstand most forces. There are very rare occasions where an attack can cause the Paladin to be knocked from his feet.

These two Blessings combined solidified his identity as humanity's dark protector.

The spike-halberd struck the metallic kite shield and then bounced back sharply. Normally, the laws of physics would cause the Paladin to stagger back from such a powerful assault. However, due to the Blessing of Resolve, Brutus held eye contact with the naga-beast and broadened his devious smile, completely unphased by the creature's lightning reflexes. And since the laws of physics still required a reaction, the staggering force transferred back to the Conquistador instead.

It was a movement he was all too familiar with. In previous encounters with all-powerful lycans, ogres, and wendigos - Brutus can recall those bewildered eyes. They had a little-to-no understanding of the intricacies within the Blessings, they didn't know of the Blessing of Protection's limited use. The fear of the unknown crept into these unholy beasts after they witnessed a puny human easily deflect one of their most powerful attacks. That kind of fear is a feast for the dark avenger. He used this fear to further antagonize the abominations which eventually lead to their agonizing demises.

The Paladin stood in his place, unbothered to take a step back to create distance between himself and the towering serpent. He stared straight at the creature which tried to tear him down with petty taunts. Well, he certainly has an elitist attitude, Brutus thought while remaining composed. "Well, laddie, just like you, I lost my memories. You could be right," he shrugged carelessly. "Maybe I fled like a coward instead of saving my brother-in-arms. Maybe I'm the sole survivor because I was too afraid to face the abomination that slew them."

Brutus glanced around his environment and took note of the burning puddles. So, there's oil scattered in this room. There weren't too many other liquid substances that would've been set ablaze so quickly. His eyes scanned the engineering room until he found what he wanted. There was a wooden table, intact by the flames and left behind by the forgotten civilization, settled next to the silvery wall closer towards the Paladin.

The Scotsman refocused his attention back to his opponent. The Conquisitor held the halberd edge towards the knight's throat and the naga's snake tail coiled with tension. The serpent's gaze seemed to be focused on the flanged mace that was strapped against the Steel's waist. The regal creature appeared to be ready to strike as long as Brutus armed himself. Interesting... perhaps I can take advantage of this?

Brutus then did something that would probably surprise his adversary. Instead of drawing his mace and resuming the bloody fight, he nonchalantly turned his back against the snake and strode towards the table. On top of the table was a set of vials filled with thick-brown liquid. "However, I believe I know a simpler answer," Brutus returned to the topic of being a sole survivor.

His eyes skimmed over the vials and examined their contents. "They were all weak. They all lacked conviction." Brutus turned his head to Ramirez, back still facing the snake, and narrowed his eyes at the amphibian demon. "What about you, Conquisitor? Does your so-called honor weaken your conviction to kill me?" he mocked. "An unarmed person with their back vulnerable and exposed?"

[Holeypaladin]

Though he succeeded in deflecting the improvised attack of hot coals, the timing with which the paladin discarded the two handed tool, secured his grip of the shield which prevented two handed weapon use, and managed to raise his shield in time to prevent a potentially lethal blow from hitting his mark hinted at some sort of protective magic. This hint was further reinforced by the fact that his own halberd rebounded with quite a bit more force than it usually did. Had the paladin been carrying an actual weapon in his main hand, he might have been able to capitalize on this in order to strike back at the momentary gap in the naga's defenses... but with an empty weapon hand, the Scotsman had no such opportunity.

Holding the tip of the polearm towards the paladin's neck, the Conquistador was already planning his next attack... scanning the human's stance, identifying weak points in his armor. Full plate armor was always a difficult obstacle to overcome in any fight... and the reason that caballeros were the most dangerous fighters in all of the world. But when defensive magics are added to the mix as well... the best option was to add in some trickery to make the man lower his guard. It was this thought that caused him to look at the man's weapon... to make it seem like he was doing the honorable thing and waiting until the paladin was properly armed.

A sly smirk crossed the serpentine face of the Spaniard. Everything he had done and said since he heard the sound of clanking plates had been for a reason... just as he had not bothered to speak to his previous opponent, who couldn't understand his words and whose language he knew not, the words he did speak to his new opponent all served a purpose. While there may have been a time where he strove to be a most honorable caballero... in his adolescence, Antenor Ramirez had learned that it was much more enjoyable to be a literal Serpent in the Garden.

Every word he spoke to the Scotsman had been for a single purpose: to make him do something reckless. First to test whether Brutus was an honorable knight who would fight with honor... next to see if he could send the paladin into a rage with insults... and additionally, to give the Scotsman the impression that he was facing an honorable caballero who would not strike an unarmed foe.

The only purpose of honorable duels was to excuse the most dishonorable behavior that the naga found so enjoyable.

As he observed the paladin's behavior, Ramirez noted the way his opponents eyes settled on... some sort of alchemist table. No doubt he would be searching for some sort of alchemical concoction to hurl as a weapon, either at the naga or at the flames that were now burning in several locations across the room. However, the naga had no such intention of giving the human such an opportunity. "Is that so?" he said nonchalantly to the paladin's words... to keep the conversation going, so to speak, and to mask the fact that he was already calculating his next attack the moment the human let down his guard.

As the human turned his back to his opponent, the Conquistador remembered a lesson from his early youth. As a child, facing a master fencer in a duel with swords, he had a tendency to attempt some rather flashy moves in combat. One such move was a spinning backslash, where he would twirl in a full circle in order to bring his blade across his opponent. However... every time he attempted such a move while sparring against his instructor, he would be hit the moment he took his eyes off his opponent. Without fail. Because it was impossible to defend against something he couldn't see... and the gap in his defenses was too great and obvious when he performed such a reckless combat maneuver.

Over a hundred years later, now Antenor was the master fencer, so to speak. His weapon was no longer a sword, but a halberd, with a much greater reach. His opponent may have been outside of sword range... but he was well within halberd range. Just as his instructor had done so many times in his youth, the moment the paladin's eyes could no longer see him... the naga struck with lightning speed and expert precision. Uncoiling his serpentine form, he lunged forward in order to bury the spiked tip of his halberd into the gap between the paladin's helmet and breastplate.... a blow which should, by all rights, pierce straight through the mail joint armor and padded under-armor, clean through the soft flesh at the base of Brutus' skull, and lodge itself deep into the stem of the human's brain... an instant kill.

Whether or not the stroke would be as effective as intended was, as of yet, unclear... though the paladin had revealed the fact that he had protective magics, such enchantments were never 100% effective, and there was often a cooldown period. Not even the most powerful of magic shields could block against attacks from behind... and since the human lacked eyes in the back of his head, he had no means of seeing the strike coming in order to defend against it. Reckless behavior was always risky... which was why the Conquistador himself always relied on calculated attacks and cunning maneuvers.

A hundred years of combat experience had tempered the Spaniard into a very efficient killer of men.

[RedKayne]

Apex Predator

---

Brutus received his answer before he even finished his question.

He detected the sound of the snake's skin rapidly traversing across the floor. When Brutus turned his head to inquire the monstrosity's honor, the naga-beast already uncoiled itself and launched towards the Paladin. The spiked tip of the halberd aimed towards the base of the Scotsman's skull which threatened an instantaneous kill.

The conquistador lived up to his reputation as a ruthless and cunning warlord. There wasn't an ounce of honor within this treacherous creature.

There wasn't any time to evade the ambush at such proximity, Brutus was forced to mitigate the damage. He grimaced and whirled his body around to face the brunt force of the spike. His body shifted to the right and tensed up as he anticipated the upcoming pain.

The spike pierced into his left shoulder, right beneath the collar bone. The weapon tore through the thick plate mail and caused blood to splatter outward. A fresh stream of red liquid quickly trickled down his body from beneath the armor.

The Blessing of Resolve can be both a boon and a curse. In this situation, it was the latter. The piercing force of the halberd didn't cause Brutus to stagger back against the table. However, the laws of physics were still required and the spike burrowed deeper into his flesh instead.

The excruciating pain exploded from Brutus's left side. He involuntarily gritted his teeth behind tight lips and squeezed his eyes shut as if to block out the agony. His breathing became uneven and jagged due to the foreign object in his body. In a tortuous manner, each time he took a labored breath, sharp pain consistently erupted from the fresh wound.

The Paladin's gaze was downcast as he took those few seconds to compose himself. It seemed like an eternity before he lifted his eyes at the abomination before him. Oddly, there wasn't any hatred or anger within those eyes. Instead, there was glee.

The apex predator formed a broad and devious smile, "I gotcha you now, you ugly sack of shit!"

The Steel wasn't the sole surviving member of the Order because he was a reckless fool. He was well-versed in the arts of combat and understood the intricacies of completely demolishing his opponents. The maneuver to present his vulnerable back and stride towards the vials served a two-fold purpose. The first was to reach the vials of oil within arms-length distance, but the second was to cause the naga to lunge and close the gap between them. Brutus knew it was too delicious of an opportunity that couldn't be ignored by the naga, especially since the Paladin appeared to be distracted by the vials.

In this game of chess, Antenor Ramirez felt that he played the Steel with his deceitful honor. However, the Steel utilized the persona of a reckless soldier to lower the beast's guard and fully intended to turn the tables around.

Brutus moved both of his arms simultaneously. His left hand lifted and tightly wrapped around the halberd's shaft. He still felt the pain screaming at him, especially when he raised the limb which was weighed down by the strap shield. However, Brutus earned the Blessing of Resolve due to his tenacious nature.

Speaking of the Blessing of Resolve, in this situation, it would prove to be extremely beneficial.

Oftentimes, Brutus took advantage of the magical blessing with the combination of deflecting other attacks. However, in this unorthodox case, his momentum couldn't be pulled forward even if the naga tried to free the halberd with all his might. The strain of the Paladin's left arm was also eased. He didn't need to use compound muscles from his lower body to support his grip strength, which was much needed due to the shoulder injury. Also, the halberd-spike buried deep within Brutus's shoulder was another added factor in impeding any attempts to pull free the weapon.

The abomination was now completely exposed to the Steel's next assault. His right arm lowered itself and gripped the handle of the mace. Brutus violently tore it from the belt strap and swung it in an upwards motion. At such a close distance, the metallic head aimed to obliterate the lower jaw of the naga creature.

So now, the Steel presented an ultimatum to his adversary. He could sacrifice his weapon and elude the attack. Or, he could come out of this battle with a disfigured face. Either option catered towards the dark avenger's inevitable victory.

[Kris]

There is a mumbling sound, as something, from way afar seemed to be breaking down… Then when your attention is given to locate the source of the noise, you hear something akin to a screech or a nail grazing glass. It is weak at first, but then it echoes. Not only that, it starts to follow from any direction around you as hollow sound starts to break in from the corners of the metallic places under you.

Water. Water is starting to break in and starting to fill this place. But you know deep inside that something is wrong. A strong stench follow inside, and you realize quickly… Something bad will happen once drenched in the coming flood…

You notices rusted staircases attached on few corners. Some looked in a very bad shape, some don't even connect to anything anymore.

When your eyes look up, you notice the upper exit. It seemed to be firmed, but maybe you can break out…

As water reach in, you realize that you have no more time to dawdle… Maybe you really have no chance but to keep going up... in hope that maybe up there you will find some salvation...

Then your eyes meet that of your opponent…

You both have 2 more posts each, and 72 hours to post in between. Once you both finish I'll come in and judge! Good luck to you both.

[Holeypaladin]

The naga's thrust was lightning fast, perfectly time, and well aimed. By all rights, it should have struck clean and deadly... as he had delivered his blow the moment the paladin could no longer see him. However, it seemed like whatever deity had blessed Brutus with his magic shield and immunity to inertia decided to intervene at that moment, as there was no other excuse for where the spear tip of the halberd landed. It was impossible for a human to turn around faster than the naga could thrust his weapon forward... especially a human who couldn't even see the attack coming due to the fact that Antenor was striking from behind.

It would have made sense had his blow at least hit the paladin's shoulder from behind, even if it wasn't a killing blow as intended... but there was little else the Conquistador could do but play the hand dealt to him by whatever deity had intervened at that moment. It seemed as if his polearm had lodged deeply into the Scotsman's shoulder... a blow that should, at the very least, render his opponent's shield arm useless, as the pain, injury, and damaged muscles shouldn't allow that arm to function. "One of these days, your deity will grow tired of saving you, Señor," the naga commented on the surprising results of his attack.

Though it wasn't unusual for the hooked spike opposite the halberd's spear edge to get stuck in an opponent, the spear tip was designed so that it could smoothly slide in and out... meaning the main thing that kept the weapon embedded into the paladin's shoulder was the fact that Brutus was using his left hand to grip it. Noting the fact that the Scotsman was reaching for his mace, the naga considered closing the distance. It would be the perfect time to coil around the paladin's weapon arm with his snake half, pinning it to his body and slowly crushing the life out of the man. He was more than capable of doing so, after all... and the fact that his snake tail made him so much better at grappling than humans were was why he didn't need a short range weapon.

However, the sound of his surroundings breaking down alerted him to a change in the environment. Of course... just as in his previous duel, his very surroundings were as much the enemy as his opponent... yet also, potentially, something he could use to his advantage. It seemed as if water was pouring into the room... yet the strong scent that reminded him of Aqua Acida, and alchemist potion that could dissolve flesh and metal alike, indicated that this was no ordinary water. If it was indeed Aqua Acida... then it would explain how it was leaking into the strange environment, as the alchemist potion could easily dissolve the metallic walls of the... the word "galleon" came to mind, though this place was like no galleon he had ever seen.

Noting how the only way to get away from the water was to ascend the only stairway that appeared to be intact, Antenor tossed the idea of constricting his opponent out the window. It would do no good to squeeze the life out of the paladin only to be dissolved by Aqua Acida himself. Instead, he decided on the next best option. Twisting his polearm in the shoulder of the paladin, he sought to inflict as much pain and damage as possible, and to completely immobilize the human's shield arm to the point where his grip had no strength.

He made a hissing laugh at the paladin's gleeful comment. "Do you always feel advantaged when you fight with one arm behind your back?" It was a reference, of course, to the fact that even a magical shield couldn't be used with a crippled arm. It was clear that the holy knight intended to keep his weapon pinned while he struck with his mace... but it also seemed as if Brutus had little experience dealing with a highly skilled polearm user. Without a shield, how did he expect to defend himself from the deadly battlefield weapon, even if he did manage to land a blow? Of course, the Conquistador had no intention of taking a blow when he had the means to defend himself from it.

Allowing the paladin to grip his mace, the naga thrust forcefully into the paladin's shoulder, lodging the weapon even deeper. Though the paladin's blessing made it impossible to push him backwards... the inertia was enough to push Antenor himself away, and the naga slid his grip down to the base of his halberd in the process. This maneuver placed him outside the range of the paladin's mace, as an eight foot long halberd, even with several of its inches lodged into a human shoulder, had a massive reach advantage over a two foot long flanged mace.

As the mace blow came, he intercepted the haft of the mace with the haft of the halberd. He knew his halberd could take the impact, as it was reinforced for just such a purpose. The heavy impact, however, would cause the tip of the halberd to vibrate intensely within the wound it had inflicted... loosening inside the paladin's shoulder while inflicting even greater pain and injury.

After that... it was simply a matter of taking the high ground. He yanked the loosened halberd free of the paladin's wound and darted with exceptional speed up a nearby stairway, taking care not to repeat Brutus' mistake and take his eyes off his opponent. Once he had a sufficient high ground, he turned to face the paladin, lowering the bloodied tip of the halberd at the man. "Come and get me, Señor Paladino," he taunted the human. "If you still have the fight in you, that is." By his reckoning, the Conquistador had taken the only stairwell that wasn't damaged to the point of being usable... or at least the only one secure enough to support the weight of a heavily armored knight. It would be no easy challenge for a mace user to get close enough to strike, without a shield to protect against the superior reach of his polearm.

[RedKayne]

Against the Dying Light

---

My curse is coming to an end.

Brutus's unorthodox assault didn't work out as planned. He fully expected that the naga-beast would either be smashed in the face or sacrifice his weapon to escape the mace head's trajectory. The Paladin nearly scoffed at the idea that a deity was protecting his wellbeing, he was more envious of the deity that aided the Conquisitor in his battle.

If Brutus was tracking correctly, the serpent performed three actions within fractions of seconds. In his first reaction, the serpent twisted the halberd-spike and caused more pain within the Paladin's shoulder. The grizzled Scotsman, once again, involuntarily gritted his teeth together and felt the lacerations against his skin. Blood profusely seeped from the wound and the pain weakened the Paladin's grip on the halberd shaft.

Then, the Conquisitor further pushed the halberd deeper into the Paladin's shoulder. Apparently, that action caused the towering abomination to be pushed away and outside of the flanged mace's range. Perhaps it was the blood-loss or the overwhelming pain, but the Paladin was certainly perplexed how that effectively worked out. Additionally, the naga-beast perfectly understood the intricacies of the Blessing of Resolve within a few seconds and took advantage of it. There wasn't even a moment of confusion over Brutus's unmoveable momentum.

Finally, due to the Paladin's weak grip, Antenor violently shifted the halberd shaft to deflect the mace away. Of course, the sudden vibration brought even more agony to Brutus's injury. His senses were completely overpowered and his grip released. His left arm practically fell lifelessly and the spear-head loosened free from his body.

If Brutus survived this battle and was perhaps a bit more pious, he would seek the boon of Ramirez's god. The physically-enhanced creature was gifted with incredible battle wits and lightning-reflexes. The odds were incredibly stacked against an ordinary human soldier with a debilitating injury.

The Paladin stood there with slouched shoulders and panted heavily while the environment began to collapse in an utter cacophony. He barely processed the harsh rumble but fortunately noticed the water that flowed into the engineering room, mainly from the hallway entrance. Heh, that answers my earlier question, this is an underwater civilization, Brutus bleakly thought. He observed the putrid water seep from the chamber's corners, which extinguished some of the weaker flames that were earlier ignited by the hot coal.

The abomination retreated towards a nearby stairwell that leads towards several upper platforms. The amphibian demon turned around to face his adversary and taunted the weakened Paladin to charge. The ruthless warlord lowered his halberd and pointed the bloodied bladed-edge that threatened to end the human's life. The Steel knew he had no opportunity to defeat the naga-beast with a short mace and an impaired shield-arm. The monstrosity had yet another advantage with the extensive reach of his weapon.

Yet, at this point, it was questionable if Brutus had the fortitude to perform even the smallest of actions. His vision blurred and his knees shook, which signified an upcoming collapse. His eyelids grew heavy and his mind became clouded by a gray fog.


Perhaps, you can find finally some rest?

Were our lives meaningless?

Brutus, you are the last of the Steel.

You have the strength to finish this fight.

No, you deserve to rest.

Was our sacrifice in vain?

Our hopes rest with you, you can't fail-

"You can all just shut the fuck up," Brutus growled under his breath and refocused his vision. Several ghostly whispers tried to empower or diminish the Paladin's willpower to fight. He couldn't tell the origins of the voices. He couldn't differentiate if it was his former comrades or even his deity. Regardless, he didn't need their words, Brutus's conviction hasn't waned.

Even though his body screamed with pain, Brutus turned his attention back to his opponent. Antenor Ramirez. He couldn't let this monstrosity escape and continue his massive genocides to appease his thirst for conquest. The Steel condemned this abomination to an agonizing death sentence and he had every intention to carry it out.

"Heh, you still don't understand, Conquistador. You will die in this room," the Steel boldly declared.

Brutus's lowered his gaze to the path between himself and the bottom of the stairway. There was a small fire with a lump of burning coal, probably covered by the oil, that remained untouched. However, he needed to act swiftly before the encroaching water extinguished the flames.

Shockingly, the Paladin tossed aside his mace. His free hand quickly went to his opposite arm and unstrapped the shield, which was also discarded to the ground. He must think I'm off my damn trolley, Brutus figured his actions likely perplexed his adversary. Well, he's right, cause I'm definitely fucking am.

The Steel sharply pivoted to the wooden table beside him. His left arm quickly reached out and strenuously grabbed a handful of the oil-filled vials. Every movement of his left limb screeched with discomfort, especially since the blasted serpent twisted the spear inside his shoulder. However, after discarding the cumbersome shield, Brutus can utilize his impaired arm one last time to retrieve and hold onto the practically weightless vials. His limb sluggishly dropped back to his side but held the vials with a strained, weak grasp.

Brutus whirled to face the stairway and then sprinted towards it. He furthered grimaced as the pierced armor grazed against his open wound, where blood continuously seeped out. I don't have much time left, I'm gonna pass out soon, Brutus's vision blurred every few seconds. I need to finish this battle right now.

He reached the halfway point and knelt his right leg and then lowered his respective arm. His free hand scooped up the coal lump which was still aflame. He felt a warmness in his thick-mail gauntlet and straightened his posture to continue his charge. However, Brutus knew that the hot temperature would eventually scorch through the metal and cause severe burns on his hand. Again, he didn't have much time and needed to finish this fight.

Brutus reached the bottom of the stairway yet remained undeterred. By all accounts, the Paladin appeared to be a reckless fool running straight to his demise. He held no actual weapons and couldn't possibly contend against the halberd. He didn't have the naga-beast's lightning reflexes or exceptional speed. Even if he attempted to throw either item, Brutus had to account for Ramirez's quick reflexes. He would either block them with his halberd or simply evade. Regardless, Brutus's left arm was useless other than holding onto the vials.

There seemed to be no possible chance of victory for the Paladin, especially with another reckless tactic. Yet, his conviction remained steadfast. Perhaps that conviction blinded the Steel of all rationality, but he still had complete confidence that the Conquisitor will find his tomb within this forsaken room.

To slay a monster... you must become a monster. No... not a monster. You have to become a...