Round 2: RedKayne vs. Ma1chbox (Judge: ~N~)

[~N~]

"Who doesn't love airships?" ~N~'s voice boomed out over the winds, long hair whipping back like a wild tempest. With both arms raised like timbers out from the sides of his powerful torso, the right holding a tri-cornered hat, the judge stood proudly, triumphantly even, on the prow of the vessel.

Then ~N~'s voice dropped an octave, taking on a low sinister quality as the judge leaned forward, decked out in a sea captain's outfit, "Unless, of course, you're afraid of heights." Folding his arms across his raised left leg, his left foot planted upon the elevated neck of the prow, ~N~ turned his baleful gaze down upon the distant lands and seas gliding past, so very far below.

Raising his head again and donning the tri-cornered sea captain's hat, he turned to the combatants. "'In medias res,' the old literary critics say," ~N~ began, his steps towards them surefooted with confidence, "You should always begin in the middle of things."

"And so here we are!" he said with a bold, unsettling smile, drawing out the "r" with a theatrical swagger that was interrupted by thunderous booms off both the starboard side and the port side, followed by two cannonballs roaring past, splintering the main mast and threatening to loose it upon the ship's zeppelin-like balloon, showering the combatants and judge in a hail of wooden splinters.

"Right in the middle of a perilous pursuit no less!" ~N~ shouted with excitement. "Pirates are such a treacherous lot; turning on each other like jackals as soon as they can. This lot made off with something more than their fair share as pirates are want to do, and paid for it with their lives!"

The vessel shuddered and lurched to the starboard, throwing both combatants off balance while ~N~ calmly reached out with his right hand to take hold of the wheel, turning it to compensate until the ship righted itself once more, lurching back the other way.

"Not to worry! For it seems they've bought you a few precious moments more besides!"

Another salvo of cannonballs tore through the rigging with sonic ferocity, sending shockwaves through the timbers and hull that sent the whole vessel careening off to the port side now before ~N~ pulled her back again, righting the trembling, battered ship once more.

"Don't know how much more she can take, but I can promise you I'll make her last ride one to remember! Though, with things falling apart, the center (as the poem goes) won't hold for much longer, so do pay attention:

Neither of you is making it out of this alive on your own; your lives amount to a paltry sum that falls woefully short of the payment required to ferry you to safety. But! If you take what you need from the other one, you might have just enough to meet my price!"

A gleaming, mad grin spread wide across ~N~'s lips. And then, as though a dark cloud of a thought passed over him, his visage turned to one of pitiless disgust: "If you try to be noble and spare the other, you will die. Try to escape, I'll blow you out of the sky. And if you even think about mutiny, I'll send you both straight to the fucking Locker."

With this final warning, ~N~ took off his tri-cornered hat, sweeping it down with that mad grin back on his lips and announced, "I am ~N~, and I'll be your Captain on this tragic last voyage of the Charon!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'll be posting after both of you have posted each time, just as I did last battle, and updating the conditions of the fight.

You each have 4 posts per person and 48 hours to respond between each post.

By the toss of the proverbial coin, RedKayne goes first!

[RedKayne]

Spirit of a Goddess

---

“Somebody, save me!”

The sixteen-year old Elena Malstrom cried out, as her small and lithe body dangled from a white cliff-side edge. The teenager held a feeble grip onto the ledge, and glanced down to see a long descent into the vast ocean below. The silver-haired teen could still see the waters rippling due to a bandit's body that fell into its depths and his untimely demise. The bandit tried to toss the young Elena down into the ocean, while the two were fighting on the cliff's outskirts. However, he only ended up pushing them both off because of a clumsy and foolish error. Malstrom was fortunate to have quick reflexes and grabbed onto a jagged handhold, while the bandit's own luck came to a bitter end.

“Somebody! Help!!” Elena felt her heart palpitating with terror, and her slim fingers started to slip from the rocky surface. The young girl didn't want to die… not like this… not before she had the opportunity to become a Templar of the Holy Order. Its been her lifelong dream, and one she worked many hard years over. Her destiny could not end here… not in this manner.

Her fingers slipped, and Elena's gray eyes widened with horror.

But then she felt a rough hand enclosed around her forearm and held a strong grip. The teen's gaze turned upward to see a tall but familiar figure, before he quickly pulled her up into safety.

The teenage Elena knelt on the ground, panting heavily after that massive adrenaline rush.

“Well, that was quite the close call, wasn't it?” the young man stated a bit cockily with a bright grin, and his own gray eyes gleaming with a devilish charm.

The young Malstrom was still breathing heavily, before she managed to form her own small smile. “Yes, it certainly was, big brother,” Elena managed to release a small chuckle. “Thanks.”

“Heh, anytime, sis, you can always count on-”

"Who doesn't love airships?”

A person's boisterous voice boomed overhead, which snapped Captain Malstrom back into reality from her flashback. Her eyes blinked several times to adjust to the sudden change in environment. Heavy winds cascaded around the aircraft, as the massive vessel sailed across the wild blue yonder. Elena quickly assumed that they were high up in altitude level, and that a fall from the ship's platform could only mean certain doom.

The Tempest Knight's gray gaze raised up to see the captain of the ship – a mysterious male with a sinister presence. His confident and enthusiastic nature only proved unsettling as the airship shook violently, and the sound of splintering woods echoed into the air. Fragments of the flying vessel rained upon Captain Malstrom, the ship captain, and the person across from the templar warrior.

Except… the term 'person' was an inadequate description of the individual before her.

Elena's current opponent was a towering humanoid, standing near the impressive height of seven feet. The creature even dwarfed the tall Tempest Knight, and there was a faint glowing aura that shrouded its body. The being seemed to be carved from a golden statue, with flowing robes wrapped around its waist, and a disturbing face with blank features. Six ethereal arms floated behind the creature, each holding a golden orb of power. The templar has never seen such an anomaly before, it was completely alien to the experienced fighter.

The vessel lurched towards the front, which caused Malstrom to lose balance temporarily. The knight caught herself by slamming an open palm against the wooden surface, before standing back up in a straight posture. The knight's exquisite black-and-white armor glimmered under the sunlight, and then she took a step forward to regain footing.

Apparently, the combatants were in the midst of a battle between airships. Cannonballs rocketed across the area, clearly signifying a sky warfare in progress. If Captain Malstrom were to clash with this crystalline figure, it would be best to finish this battle quickly. Otherwise, this whole ship could deteriorate in a matter of minutes.

The Tempest Knight's attention returned back to the strange creature. Elena could only wonder the nature of this opponent. Is it a sentient being? Is it fully capable of thought and emotion? Or is it simply a mindless monstrosity? A ruthless fighting machine that seeks to sate its own thirst for blood?

“Greetings, there,” Malstrom's muffled voice spoke through the helmet, but her voice carried a tone of confidence and reticent tenacity. “I haven't faced an opponent with such an odd… appearance,” she stated, and presented a courteous demeanor despite the dire circumstances. “I would like to inquire the name of my opponent, before we commence battle.” If the crystalline being answered with a name, it would prove to be a fully conscious humanoid. If not, then it is only an abomination… one that may need to be put down for the sake of moving forward.

Then, Charon's captain began to speak.

"Neither of you is making it out of this alive on your own... If you take what you need from the other one, you might have just enough to meet my price!"

Elena's eyebrows furrowed upon hearing his words, and she could only assume that their judge wanted a combatant to take the life of the other… to meet his so-called price. The mage-knight quickly deducted that this captain is one of the gods supervising this barbaric tournament.

If Elena Malstrom manages to claim the championship mantle, this deity may hold the information that she is searching for.

"If you try to be noble and spare the other, you will die.”

The next instruction certainly solidified that this is a battle to the death. Malstrom's lips formed a small scowl, as she already held a strong dislike towards this ship captain. The Tempest Knight preferred to refrain from taking the lives of others unless absolutely necessary. It was not in her character to be a cold-blooded murderer. If possible, she would attempt to find other ways to be victorious in this match.

But if she could not… then she will do what must be done. She will overcome essentially any obstacle to achieve her personal goal.

“And if you even think about mutiny, I'll send you both straight to the fucking Locker."

The Tempest Knight's scowl only deepened, as every ounce in her being wanted to defy this arrogant entity's instructions. As of right now, though, Elena will do what she can to please the gods of this tournament.

But…

Malstrom's eyes scanned the expanse once more, glancing up at the hot-air balloon along with the vast clear-blue sky above it.

I can work something out… but it would require perfect timing and exertion on my part...

Her gaze shifted once more towards the judge of this battle. "I hear you loud and clear, captain..." Elena spoke aloud and gave a nod of acknowledgement, but the last word was clearly held with distaste. "I will fight on your terms... for now," she boldly stated, while her eyes narrowed upon the authoritarian figure.

Finally, the mage-knight's attention fixated back to the opponent. The Captain couldn't waste too much time to strategize in this battlefield. She had a strong feeling that there would be multiple unexpected events to occur in this match, which will require improvised actions.

“Luthious… lend your noble hand, and guide your humble servant through this trial by arms.”

Malstrom muttered a quick prayer, before the knight's right hand reached towards her belt section. Elena's gauntlet wrapped around the Holy Grenade, before prying it off from the waist. There was a brief pause as the harsh winds roared around the combatants, and the Tempest Knight stood there silently and observed the crystalline creature before her.

“I very much welcome your challenge,” she simply stated with a hint of excitement, before uncorking the abnormally-shaped grenade with her left hand. The Captain immediately flung the gadget towards the enigmatic individual, aiming directly towards its golden torso. In a matter of few seconds, the grenade will explode with a mixture of holy light energy and gunpowder to create divine flames. Malstrom was unsure about the flame's effects on the foreign being, because there is a possibility that the creature is incapable of feeling pain. However, this is always a good opportunity to learn more about her opponent and its combative nature.

Quickly thereafter, the Tempest Knight's arms reached overhead and grabbed the equipment strapped to her back. After drawing both the halberd and the shield, Captain Malstrom darted towards her opponent – her legs taking off into a quick sprint. Elena will refrain from running into the proximity of the grenade's five-feet blast radius – but after the explosion occurs, she intends to rapidly approach her opponent and commence close-quarter combat.


Just wait for me a little longer...

...big brother.

[Ma1chbox]

The last battle was short and abrupt, but bloody and intense nonetheless. The warcaster and his iron beast, two admittedly formidable opponents, mighty as they both were, were still rendered powerless against the will of the great prophet Eru. A great victory in the name of a great deity, and Raava had the humbling honor of being the one chosen to perpetrate it.

The disciple lay still under the rubble of steel, stone, and plasterboard, unmindful of the crevasses that ran across his body like a canyon of shattered citrine. The fight had indeed been won, but it came at the cost of its once flawless form. Without warning, it began to glow intensely and brightly. Dust and debris began to shake and move away from the pinned figure almost as if a paranormal force was trying to salvage the wounded warrior. Suddenly, a single flash of intense light engulfed everything and a veil of silence fell upon all.

Peace.

Everything was at peace. The world was empty, blindingly white on all surfaces with no discernible features. A realm of true oblivion, where nothing was, is, or ever will be. It was both peace embodied and destruction manifested, a plane of existence where existence itself was a nonexistent concept... and yet, there in the center of it all sat a golden figure, its bright yellow aura contrasting even against the nothingness around it. Motionless and unflinching as a statue, it hovered in place. An anomaly, an aberration, a stark abnormality that stood against everything the realm that surrounded it stood for, and yet, it existed still.

Eight glowing arms branched out from the figure's shoulders, each one posed and positioned in a mystic and seemingly sacred way. At the end of every arm, a hand formed a unique gesture, each one implying a hidden meaning divine in nature, a testament and symbolization of the enlightened truths of the world that were yet to be comprehended by the lesser beings. In turn, around the eight hands of fate weaved and circled eight miniature suns whose silent and graceful movement was contrasted by the awe-inducing power of its burning form.

Another golden humanoid materialized a few feet in front of the meditating Raava. The two crystalline beings seemed to be similar in nature, but it was completely evident that the one that stood was superior. Magnificent and powerful beyond compare, its burning yellow aura swirled inhumanly bright in a violent storm, completely dwarfing the lesser being's less powerful aura. Ten entire sunspheres moved effortlessly in unison and weaved intricate patterns of light around the divine one, making its power all the more apparent. Not even Raava could manage to look at the deity without being blinded with awe. Though he could not see, he knew at once that the man who stood before him was none other than the traitorous prophet himself, Eru.

Out of both respect and fear, he uncrossed his legs and shifted to a rigid kneeling position, after which he solemnly bent down and prostrated himself in the holy presence of his lord and master. Eru said nothing, but slowly levitated towards his disciple, stopping just an arm's length away of him. As solemnly as his disciple bowed, Eru spread his arms wide as his torso opened up to reveal his core, and at once, the lights and the heat grew more and more intense by the second, until again, a blinding white light encompassed everything in sight.

Suddenly, Raava snapped back to his senses. He was no longer pinned underneath rubble, and his form was again solid as the day he emerged from the cave, with nary a scratch to be found. This time, he found himself on a strange wooden ship of sorts. The titanic vessel was like nothing he had ever personally seen before. Though the frame was similar to that of the old ships harbored near the temple he used to frequent before his transcendence, the view above was quite unexpected. Instead of great cloth sails fluttering in the wind, there instead sat a gigantic canvas structure, bloated with a mixture of buoyant gases. Instead of the vast blue seas crashing underneath it, there lay the roaring winds and the view of the land far, far down below.

Truly an ingenious an invention as any, but apart from the sight of the majestic flying boat, another apparent detail caught Raava's attention. It seemed this particular airborne vessel was in the middle of an engagement with other similar airships. The superstructure of the ship swayed strongly from side to side. The thunderous sounds of gunpowder charges going off filled the air. Cannonfire and splinters littered the deck, and the chassis seemed to be holding on to itself for dear life. It was clear that the airship did not have much time left to live.

In the distance, he saw a long-haired figure in what seemed to be a captain's uniform. It bore no arms nor any obvious abilities. Instead, it held only a tattered tricorne in one hand. Though the ship was on its last proverbial legs, the captain stood tall and proud, unfazed by the carnage that was being wrought upon its prized possession. The wind blew loudly, dwarfing out all but the loudest of sounds, but still, the captains voiced boomed clearly throughout the arena. Curious, Raava stood similarly unfazed by the mayhem and listened to the captain's words. From the message delivered, it was made clear that the captain that stood at the wheel was to be the arbiter that oversaw the coming fight.

About halfway through the cinematic speech, the captain's words, though loud and clear, began to fade out into mere mumbles for Raava. Now, every last bit of his attention was diverted to yet another peculiar detail in the scenario. Far in front of him stood yet another human, a knight clad in a shining, intricately detailed bulwark of red, black, and gold. Unlike the ship's captain, who was more or less unarmed, the knight was wielding a long halberd and a large shield, both in addition to a dagger strapped to the knight's waist. For Raava, there was absolutely no doubt that the human in his sights was none other than his enemy.

Moments the captain ceased to speak, the templar uttered a quick prayer and brought out a small, studded orb that showed signs of wear and tear. It took no time at all for Raava to deduce that the orb was a weapon, or at the very least, a strange device that would work for the benefit of his opponent.

As soon as he saw the knight lobbing the outlandish device, instinct took over. Raava crouched like a predator and sprung forward, sprinting like a madman. As he ran, however, he noticed that the knight had taken its halberd and shield in hand and began to charge as well, but her telltale gait gave away the fact that she seemed to be pulling back for some reason. Finding this somewhat strange, Raava changed his plan of action. Instead of running directly for the knight, he shifted his orientation slightly to the right in such a way that he was now on course to intercept the orb in the middle of its trajectory.

Once the distance was nearly closed, he leapt high up and and raised two ethereal arms. Controlled telepathically, a pair of sunspheres shot up into the air like bullets, but both stopped as soon as it one was well above the strange device's trajectory, while the other was under it. Once the positioning and timing was right, Raava scrunched forward and brought one ethereal arm down and pointed it towards the ground, while at the same time keeping the other one still pointed towards the air. The sunsphere below the device's trajectory remained in place, but the sunsphere above followed and crashed down diagonally, hitting the knight's device squarely in the middle of its flight. The two orbs now shot downwards like two comets towards the deck in front of where the knight was running. Instead of causing the bronze device to merely bounce on the wooden flooring, the sheer force of the falling sunsphere caused it to break through the planks.

Meanwhile in midair, Raava executed a flawless flip forwards and began to prepare for a landing. Still, his attack was not yet over. Just as he was almost in an upright position once more, he brought the other ethereal arm down towards the ground, this time sending a sunsphere whizzing in a line that goes just above the knight's winged helm.

If his counterattack was successful, the grenade below the decks would explode and burst a hole through the wooden flooring to block the knight's advance, as well as send a shower of holy fire and splinters up into the air. The other sunsphere flying towards a point just above the knight's head would prevent her from jumping, lest she faces a hard bludgeoning directly to the chestplate.

[~N~]

When Raava leapt up and performed his acrobatic feat, ~N~ watched with a smirk of amusement. The two sunspheres shot up...

... and suddenly the barest flicker of flame sprang to life on the underbelly of the balloon. ~N~'s eyes went wide and raised a bottle of rum that he had pulled from somewhere inside his long coat.

At the same moment, the hull of the ship was rocked by an incendiary explosion, sending flaming wooden shards outwards, a few of them embedding themselves in the balloon above as well.

"Wooooo!" the judge shouted, thrusting the bottle into the air. "Better watch it with the fire, you two, or we may just make the Hindenburg disaster look like the work of an amateur! She's already falling apart..."

The ship plunged suddenly, and with the gust of wind that blew past, the flames now leapt across the balloon, spreading like fiery fingers along its billowing surface. ~N~ fell back, grabbing the wheel and pulling himself around, managed to right the falling ship once more with a strong grip on the lever controlling the damaged stabilizers, still functioning just enough to stop the Charon's descent.

"...won't be long..." ~N~ finished in low, grim voice.

The sky had darkened considerably. The commotion of battle, the now spreading fire on the balloon's underbelly, the cannonballs still being fired by the other two ships in pursuit had all served only to blind them to the actual cause of the Charon's sudden descent: an air pocket created by a sudden drop in temperature.

From an ominous storm.

That they were headed directly into.

Rumbling thunder made its entrance between cannonfire, and the sky flashed treacherously with crackling lightning.

"Things are starting to really heat up now!" ~N~ laughed maniacally. "All it would take is one good lightning strike to hit this balloon above us...." he added, taking a swig of rum. Swishing it in his mouth for just a moment, he issued forth a jet of fire.

"... and this whole damned ship will go down in flames..."

Mad grinning smile from a Captain with a deathwish.

[RedKayne]

Humanity's Determination

---

A fiery explosion...

A sharp descent...

A storm's arrival...

The Tempest Knight's steps immediately halted as she witnessed the adversary leap high up into the air. The bizarre creature raised up two intangible arms, which shot two of the shining spheres across the area. The energy orbs enclosed their distance upon Captain Malstrom's own projectile. The disciple's two-pronged assault caused the Holy Order grenade to crash through the wooden-plank floor right before the knight.

Elena raised up her shield into a defensive posture on pure instinct alone, while simultaneously jumping backwards from the grenade's impact. However, the Captain's gray eyes widened with shock as another sunsphere lobbed itself directly towards he chestplate. The templar only had a few precious seconds to react, and Elena could naturally feel the mana energy stirring up inside of her. The mage-knight had an opportunity of utilizing her Bolting technique, and transform into a lightning bolt to avoid the attack.

Yet, despite the option available, the Tempest Knight banished the mana whirling inside of her body.

Raava's sunsphere crashed against Malstrom's pure-white kite shield like a miniature missile. The impact was tremendous, and Elena's left arm screamed out in pain as she braced against the powerful force. The mage-knight was sent flying back several feet, before landing harshly on the ground in a supine position. Captain Malstrom's weaponry was scattered around her lying body, as both the halberd and the shield were outside of arm's reach.

Muffled sounds of Elena's heavy breathing were inaudible compared to the roaring winds around the flying vessel, and the subsequent fiery explosion that occurred in the decks below. However, almost in a blink of an eye, Captain Malstrom was standing back on both feet - although appearing marginally weary from the earlier blow. Her shoulders were hunched over, and the woman's body was visibly panting. Yet, unseen by her opponent, Elena's lips curled up into a small smile beneath the templar helmet.

Now, that wasn't too bad... I have survived worse after all. Malstrom thought to herself, internally chuckling over the matter.

Sparks of flame and burning splinters rained upon the battlefield, and they harmlessly clanked against the templar warrior's intricate plate-mail.

And apparently... he's the silent type.

After their initial skirmish, Elena began to assess the situation further. Her opponent preferred not to speak, as the fluorescent humanoid clearly ignored the knight's inquiry over its identity. Yet, it clearly displayed intelligence, as it swiftly and effortlessly countered the knight's Holy Grenade.

"You're deceivingly clever, aren't you, comrade?" Elena Malstrom commented aloud, her voice coated with a playful accent before another small chortle escaped from her lips.

Luthious... The young woman began another silent prayer. Please guide me through the right path... despite the trials and the suffering... allow your humble servant to reach her fullest potential in this crusade between titans.

She sighed ever-so-lightly, before briefly shaking her impaired left arm - which still stung from the pain of the brunt-force trauma.

There was a faint aura of flames coming from the depths of the airship, and Elena then noticed the few shards that embedded themselves into the hot air balloon above. There were already other vessels besieging Charon, and the combatants were only further degenerating the very ship that is keeping them afloat.

The sharp descent supplemented the damage, and heavy gales provoked the flames to spread across the balloon. The ship's captain managed to stabilize the vessel after entering the air pocket, but then the sky distinctly darkened with an impending storm.

The Tempest Knight turned to face to ominous clouds, and a shiver ran down her spine. Elena's heart began to palpitate, her skin perspiring with sweat... she knew what was coming. Once they enter the middle of the storm, Malstrom can expect heavy rain downpours, and the darkening figures of both Charon's captain and the luminescent entity. These visuals will manifest symptoms of her mental disorder - and with the severity of the grim weather, Elena will be completely helpless to Raava's onslaught.

Captain Malstrom recognized the limitations of her mental health, but she will take necessary precautions to protect herself.

She will not allow the Cold Emperor to interfere this time.

Charon's captain continued cackling like a madman, as if joyfully expecting the destruction of the ship and everybody's respective deaths. Understandably, if this judge is truly a deity, he could not worry about trivial issues such as a petty storm taking away his own life.

Elena's gray gaze shifted from her opponent to the edge of the ship, where the endless expanse resided over the aircraft's perimeter. The mage-knight suddenly sprinted towards that direction, completely ignoring her equipment and leaving behind both the halberd and shield. It didn't take long to reach the ship's edge, since Malstrom is still at the height of her physical prowess.

After nearing the ledge, Malstrom turned to face her adversary. She stood only a few short feet away from the vessel's perimeter, and can easily fall from it at any point and descend to certain doom. Yet, the templar still held a confident smile, despite seemingly switching from offensive tactics to defensive.

One could definitely perceive that she is attempting to bait her opponent to approach the edge as well, and perhaps shove him off the ship with a certain technique. Apparently, despite the vivid memory of a life-endangering act at a certain cliff-side, Elena is unafraid of heights. It is still odd that the close-combat warrior abandoned her main weapon, along with her only shield - for whatever strategy she is brewing.

Regardless, Elena's mana pool crackled from within - waiting to be unleashed. Currently, Captain Malstrom's chances do not appear auspicious. Raava considerably outperformed her in the first altercation. However, the Tempest Knight has yet to reveal her own magical capabilities, and therefore still has the element of surprise. It won't be long before the endgame of this battle commences... and she will come out victorious.

[Ma1chbox]

As he soared through the air, the disciple of Eru reveled in the shower of splinters and holy fire that bounced harmlessly off his back. The singed deck, blackened by the blastwave, reeked of not only ash and burning wood, but also the smell of a well-executed counterattack. Moments later, a blunt, ear-ringing clang not unlike the sound made by a large gong reverberated through the chilly air flowing on the airship’s deck.

Raava partially curled up and executed an acrobatic landing at the end of his leap. The four hundred pound crystalline form sent a few more splinters flying as it left two shallow, somewhat trapezoidal footprints on the supposedly sturdy flooring.

He looked up just in time to see a blur of black, white, gold, and red whizzing backwards through the air, cruising low like a missile. In the same moment, a small yellow orb bounced gingerly up into air above where the knight was and scattered into embers in the blowing wind.

Seeing as the knight was preoccupied with, well, recovering from a grievous blow, Raava decided to take a moment to pause and bid a silent, stoic farewell to the small sphere as he watched it diffuse. So often his sunspheres scattering reminded him of the dandelions in the meadow when he first reawakened. That moment, so peaceful and serene, signified the calm before the storm. Just as he paused amidst the dandelions before the kingdom he razed, he paused amidst the embers before his opponent.

Then the dandelions ceased to flutter. The embers in the wind had faded. The calm had passed. The storm begins. Woe be unto the adversaries of the prophet, for they shall be purged with no quarter.

Slowly, Raava lowered his head and adopted a wide, stable stance. All six ethereal arms cocked back and bent at the elbow, giving the illusion of a halo of fists surrounding the crystalline statue. His entire form then tensed, shivering with pent up energy. The sounds of impending doom became drowned out as a newfound sense of vigor embodied him. The four sunspheres that remained took their places at his side, each one on an equidistant axis diagonal from his core.

Producing a long, drawn-out hiss, Raava raised his head to look up at his opponent, who now had her back turned as she looked upon the darkening clouds directly ahead of the Charon. The halberd and shield were well behind her, out of reach. Unexpectedly, she turned around and began to run not towards her discarded equipment, but instead towards the edge of the ship, dangerously close to the roaring winds beneath the airship’s massive hull.

Upon seeing her begin to make her move, Raava’s hiss grew silent for a second, but was then replaced by a thundering, blood-curdling scream that gave off a hint of the muffled echoes of the intense agony of a man trapped inside a small chamber against his will. Though he had no mouth, Raava’s haunting battlecry rang out loud enough to pierce even the deafening winds of the storm up ahead.

As his opponent took her first steps, his yell died and fell back into a silent spell as he sprang into action and broke out into a mad sprint, even more animalistic and vigorous than the last. Wood splintered under his heavy footsteps as he dashed carelessly towards his target. His course led him directly not towards the night, but towards the hole in the deck. Since he was already near its mouth beforehand, he managed to reach it a few decisive moments before the knight reached the edge of the ship. Not showing any modicum of regard for his own safety, Raava tumbled forward onto his back and slid feet first down under the main deck’s flooring, leaving a lightly carved trail on the woodwork as he went.

Upon entering the lower decks, he righted himself and landed squarely on his feet before rolling to soften the fall. Instead of taking any pauses, however, he continued to run as soon as he stood up, surveying the area as he went.
The lower decks were a completely different world from the one above. All visibility was hampered by the smoke that filled the room and hung in the air like a cloud, and whatever else could be seen was colored a dull red from the numerous fires slowly consuming the woodwork. A faint ringing noise coupled with a light wind and the crackling of numerous fires were the only sounds that could be heard. Smashed, shattered, and splintered chunks of wood strewn all over the place showed the extent of the damage caused by the grenade as it blew up in a confined space. Cannonballs from both the Charon and its pursuers rolled across the damaged floor as the ship swayed from side to side. The floors, walls, and ceilings alike were peppered with holes, which helped ease the visibility problem by venting out the lingering smoke, though not by much.

There was one thing peculiar about the hellish scene, though, one detail that seemed to persist among the rest. Despite all the carnage and mayhem that occurred under the decks, there were no crewmen in sight. No signs of bodies, blood, bones, or any other form of remains were present in the hellscape. Not even the mere smell of burning flesh showed itself. The ship seemed not only to be abandoned, it was almost as if it never had a crew in the first place! In the back of his mind, he asked himself how a captain could ever function without a crew.

Unfortunately, now was not the time for such trivial thoughts. Raava had a mission, a mission to bring death, and nothing but death to his foe. He continued to run towards the front end of the ship where his opponent should be by now, then pivoted on one foot and changed course towards the starboard side of the ship, opposite to his opponent.

Nearing the only cannon that wasn’t buried under a mound of debris, he leaned back and planted his feet onto the ground, skidding to a stop just before colliding with the massive weapon. Using his momentum, he sidestepped and spun to the left, steering his footsteps clear of any debris as he did so. Once he was beside the cannon, he spun once more, but this time ducking in such a way that he would end up under the cannon’s body.

Once that was done, Raava planted his back firmly up against the cannon and planted his feet firmly onto the ground before exerting as much effort as he could to straighten his legs and tilt the cannon upwards onto its butt end. It took a few seconds of buckling and lifting, but he unsurprisingly succeeded in propping it upright. A light clinking noise from inside confirmed his hopes that a cannonball was still loaded.

Staying completely still, he telepathically controlled one sunsphere to float behind him and press itself against the cannon’s fuse. The heat emanating from the orb caused it to sizzle for a bit before outright igniting it and causing the gunpowder compacted within the cannon to violently explode.

A deafening boom interrupted the sounds of the wind as a cannonball flew upwards and burst violently through the upper deck’s flooring. Again, splinters and chunks were strewn every which way as the iron ball ripped clean through any obstacles in its way. Of course, it didn’t stop there. The projectile now headed directly towards the balloon at a breakneck speed.

The cannonball wasn’t incendiary in any way, so it would simply rip straight through the balloon and high up into the air where it would disappear into the heavens. The resulting jets of air from the balloon, however, would jerk the airship violently to the left, as well as tilt it counterclockwise, sending everything on it sprawling. The balloon would then continuously let out air, causing the ship to quickly drop altitude.

[~N~]

Firing a shotgun, as anyone who has ever done this can tell you, has something of a kickback for the user. To get an idea of the kind of kickback one would receive from firing a cannon...

... one should multiply that shock and force by a factor of ten. At least.

Needless to say, Raava discovered this the moment the cannon fired. Between the deafening shockwave, the smoky halo, and the destructive kickback that actually drove the cannon downwards through the deck of the ship, the disciple was simultaneously torn in two directions, down and forward, enduring not only the incredible, deafening shockwave of the cannon's firing which ripped through his body, but the oppositional forces that did their utmost to rip him in half.

But the realization of his intentions, no matter how unsound, managed to do exactly as he thought. The cannonball tore up through the front of the ship, exploding through the deck in an explosive blast of wooden splinters and debris, and continued its terrifying ascent up into the balloon, tearing a hole straight through it before disappearing into the dark clouds above...

Captain ~N~ was blown back by the unexpected blast, turning away at the last moment and shielding his eyes, only to have several wooden splinters bury themselves in his back, eliciting a wince of painful irritation. The condition of the knight, who had been sprinting towards the front of the ship, was surely in question within the deafened, timeless moments that followed in the aftermath of the cannonball shot.

Several strikes of thunder lit up the skies like ominous fireworks, signaling something far more harrowing: With the balloon on fire, and now punctured, the Charon's imminent demise was more certain than ever. The airship creaked and groaned, dipping, nose first, into a perilous dive at a 20 degree downward angle, which was increasing at a stomach lurching rate. Everything that wasn't bolted down slid towards the front of the deck, plowing into whatever remained.

Raava's move singlehandedly doomed the ship. Thunder pealed across the skies, booming like the dread laughter of sadistic gods watching this spectacle, shaking the timbers as the Charon took a decidedly earthbound trajectory in her course. Gripping the ships controls, partially to keep from sliding towards the front of the ship, partially to attempt to maintain control, ~N~ realized the feeling of dread weightlessness that now overcame him. Like being in an elevator when it begins its descent, the stomach moves to the throat, and gravity seems to suddenly cease existing.

Wind, fire, and lightning wrapped the Charon in an apocalyptic embrace as the ship began its death dive from the sky...

[RedKayne]

The Sky Is Burning

---

It was odd... how the sun remained unchanged after that fateful day...

It truly shows that mother nature is apathetic...

After spending an infinite aeon of observing humanity's worst...


By taking a few step backwards, Captain Malstrom would fall into the oblivion of the sky. A clumsy step or a foolish error - and it would all be over. Yet, the Tempest Knight held no fear, and stood there in a confident manner. She was ready to face her opponent, despite being weaponless and defenseless. There was a brief silence of anticipation as Elena ignored the roaring gales around her, and she strictly paid attention to her adversary's next move.

An inhuman, blood-curdling scream echoed into the area, practically shattering the universe with its presence. Elena's gray eyes suddenly lowered her gaze, as if hearing clearly for the first time. This... individual... was suffering. As if he was bound to a morbid destiny, and he could no nothing to break free from the path of darkness.

They told me that my older brother is gone... dead...

The malevolent Cold Emperor killed him...

And the obsidian knight needs to be... eliminated...


The memories of the ice monarch were drawn back to Elena's mind. The Templar Order demanded for his extermination, due to his countless heinous acts of murder... which correlated to his goal of achieving vengeance. It all was an act of revenge against an even more sinister being... one whom took away his beloved's life.

Yet... if she was ever presented with the possibility, Captain Malstrom would be extremely hesitant to take away the life of the Emperor. Even though Elena's life was nearly taken away by the herculean antihero, she held no grudge against that cursed soul.

Elena's gray eyes shifted back to the luminescent figure, whom broke out into a feral sprint. If she were hesitant to execute the likes of the death knight... should she be willing to slay the tragic figure before her?

The golden creature disappeared into the deck's hole, and ran into the underbelly of the ship. The Captain formed a small frown, unsure of her opponent's plan of assault. Did he intended to launch an attack from below?

A few seconds passed by, as the templar awaited for Raava's next move. Elena couldn't exactly prepare a defense against an unseen opponent, yet she had no intention from moving her position. Suddenly, the thunderous sound of an explosion resounded throughout the airship. Malstrom personally witnessed a cannonball erupt from the starboard end of the vessel, which flew straight into the hot air balloon. The metallic projectile cleanly punctured through the blimp, and the disciple single-handily destroyed their only means of staying afloat.

The impact reverberated across the airship, and of course, Malstrom was unable to keep her balance. The templar was practically shoved from the ledge, as she began her own rapid descent.

I could never be like my brother... the strength of his heart was unparalleled...

I consistently lived in his shadow... striving to compete with him one day...

Now, he is merely a memory... but one that dwells in my dreams every night...


To free fall through the air - while among the clouds - is certainly a surreal experience. The suit of armor deflected away the hissing winds from Elena's skin, but the mage-knight's heart still palpated from the incredible sensation. Despite being high in altitude, the vivid imagination of crashing against the ground - an instant death - would unnerve anyone. The Captain could only find comfort by logically reasoning with herself - this was her original plan of strategy from the very beginning. The Templar had to fight through the mortal fear of death. There were still a couple more steps to proceed with her strategy, before the endgame commences. Honestly, it was remarkable that Elena still had a plan to work with, regardless of several unexpected events. She has to slightly improvise due to Raava's last action, but the outcome would remain unchanged.

The young woman's eyes narrowed, and focused upon the airship above. Flames spread across the deflated balloon, thunder boomed overhead as lightning practically enclosed upon the flying vessel, and Charon itself tipped forward by several degrees. It began its own doomsday plunge, and the force of gravity overtook the ship instead of its ruling captain. The chaotic visuals corresponded to that of the world on the brink of utter annihilation.

The Tempest Knight could not fathom the enemy's mindset. The crystalline apostle's move was thoroughly reckless, and Malstrom could presume that her adversary was not unscathed after practically blowing up the entire ship. His combat nature was essentially the opposite of the templar warrior, because Malstrom's tactics were more calculated and strategic. Yes, she would also utilize risky techniques, but she would also consider the possible positive outcomes. In this instance, the Captain is self-assured that she will be victorious even though the battle will no longer directly take place on the ship.

The Emperor struck me down... I thought my chapter in life was finally over...

And indeed... it did end... But thereafter... I was born anew...

I became the Tempest Knight... humanity's beacon of the Noble's radiance...


Lightning crackled around the falling knight's body, and threatened any second to strike the Holy Order member. Elena breathed deeply, and attempted to calm her rapidly beating heart. She battled against the urges of fear attempting to take control of her body - but she would ultimately prevail. Very fortunately - miraculously - there were no signs of heavy rain downpours, or any dark figure images of Raava or the ship's captain. That would soon change, so she still needs to be cautious.

The descending templar's right arm reached towards her belt, grabbing onto the handle of the Blessed Dagger. She drew upon the weapon, immediately feeling the effects of the small blade silencing her electrical spells that were ready to burst from within. As long as Elena continued wielding the dagger with her hand, she was incapable of using any lightning magic. Yet, it was all part of a grand plan. Daring, courageous, and ready for the final phase of this epic clash. This dagger's blade emitted a brilliant glow, which displayed a clear visual for Raava to track and hunt her down in this ominous expanse. Yet, it also signified that even in the darkest times... such as this pandemonium storm - there will always be light.

I will not lose my life tonight...

I will continue on... I shall find him...

And I will save my older brother.

[Ma1chbox]

Once again, the disciple's haphazard and reckless tendencies worked just as envisioned, and in the span of a few crucial moments, the already unruly tides of battle shifted once more. To whose favor you ask? Well, that was yet to be decided. Still, a victory was had by Raava in that very split-second. No, not an outright victory against his damned foe, mind you, but a minor victory. A small victory. He reveled in the shower of splinters and wooden debris, followed immediately by the telltale sound of large amounts of air being vented by the gigantic balloon above.

This moment of glory did not last long, however, as the crystalline man knew that with every victory, no matter how small, there was always a price to pay. It just so happened that due to both his recklessness and simple bad luck, the price to pay this time was quite dire, as he would soon find out.

The reverberations of the deafening explosion from within the cannon were the first to assault Raava's form. A shockwave of that magnitude, something that would at best be concussive and disorienting to most combatants, was quite unexpectedly effective against the disciple. The vibrating soundwaves resonated against his form, causing it to mimic the microvibrations and lose much of its protective capability just before the moment when it was very much needed.

Long before his form managed to recover and stop vibrating, the reckless being was flung directly away from the cannon in two directions, thanks in part to both the massive shockwave that blew outwards in a circle, and the cannon's own recoil, which drove straight downwards and into the lower deck's dank flooring. Taking the brunt of the combined effectiveness of these two great forces, Raava was thrust violently in two directions: Forward, directly away from the cannon's tubular cast-iron body, and downwards, straight into the deck. This resulted in him being tossed diagonally downwards.

With every single millisecond that passed after the cannon's mighty boom, Raava sank deeper and deeper feet-first into the flooring. For every two inches he moved downwards, he would move ten inches forwards as well. This violent jerking against the planks of the airship violently and mercilessly ground crystal against hard wood. Normally, this situation would have been ultimately ignorable to a transcended being such as Raava, but given the vibrating soundwaves just moments prior, his form became much more susceptible than usual, and the damage was quite apparent.

Though the wooden floor was weak enough to allow the crystal mass to glide through it like a knife sliced forcefully through a tough steak, it was also just hard enough to be able chip away chunks of his front side as he went. Like two snakes devouring each other, the wooden flooring ate through Raava's form as he himself ate through the thoroughly weakened flooring. What should have been just the blunt sound of wood violently tearing apart against a hard surface was now accompanied by the dull, pitched cracking of a solid mass of crystal being chipped away bit by bit.

Eventually, the friction generated from the grinding of crystal against wood brought Raava to a halt. By then, he was wedged firmly between a vice-like crevasse between the shattered floorboards. The front and outer sides of his lower body that were once solid and smooth were now chipped and rife with jagged bits of crystal and wood sticking out. Among his wounded body parts, his feet were the least affected, bearing the least chipped areas compared to the others. Going up from there, the damage sustained only grew worse and worse, up until the midsection, through which wedged wooden planks were lodged up to a quarter of a foot deep. It was then, and only then that Raava's crystalline form finally stopped vibrating and returned to its natural state.

Though he could not feel pain, Raava knew exactly how grave his injuries were. Any sensible opponent could now target the horizontal crevasse along his stomach and take advantage of the cracks that criss-crossed across his lower half, which was now weaker in integrity compared to his still mostly unscathed upper body. Still, the disciple knew no fear. He would not shirk from battle. He would prevail.

For a moment, he pondered his next course of action. It was then that he noticed the interior of the ship tilting forwards, slowly at first, but then rapidly. The foggy, tunnel-like interior of the airship's underbelly quickly turned into a hollow, firelit wooden tower that leaned slightly off to one side. Debris from the rear of the ship barreled down on the tilted deck towards the front end of the now descending ship. Crates, kegs, planks, and other debris rolled and flew past his upper body and landed in a pile below him as he struggled against the wood embedded in his body in an attempt to free himself.

At that moment, a sign warning him of grave danger flew just past his head. One of the cannons from the central section of the ship had broken free from the ropes that held its base securely against the deck. As it crashed into the pile down below, it didn't simply keel over and join the rest of the debris in weighing down the airship's bow end, it actually crashed through it, thus creating yet another large hole on the front end of the ship. A blow like that to his back would have been just as severely damaging as the other cannon's shockwave, if not more.

Knowing this dangerous risk, Raava ceased to struggle against the planks. Instead, he cocked both his legs backwards and protruded his knees slightly. Then, like a spring-loaded mechanism, he curled forwards and brought his knees careening towards the planks embedded in front of him, bending his knees into a bludgeon as he swung. The kneeing from below managed to crack the wood, but it still wasn't enough for Raava to go free. Cocking his legs back again, he repeated his action. Again, the wood broke, but it was still just short of enough. For the third and final time, he cocked his legs back and kneed the planks as hard as he could, and finally, he had enough leeway to wriggle free... and into the abyss below.

To someone viewing the fight, this might have looked like a stupid move, even for someone as reckless as Raava. In reality, however, this was a part of his plan, a sort of side-advantage to his plan of avoiding injury by falling cannon. Just about a minute earlier, the knight was running towards the edge of the ship when he went under the decks and shot the balloon, therefore tipping the surface violently enough to knock his opponent off. By now, she should have been falling towards her inevitable doom, just like Raava. The only difference between them now was that the knight was way down below by the time the disciple began his rapid descent.

Staying mostly still, he rolled his body over to face the ground. Air resistance going against Raava's fall took tiny bits of dislodged crystal along with it, creating a short, yellow glitter-like trail behind him. Patiently, he scanned the view below for any figures colored a mixture of red, black, and gold.

Finally, he spotted his opponent. From the looks of it, she was already looking directly at him. Once again, the two foes locked eyes in a gaze of death. One will live, and one will die. The battle would be decided in the next clash. It was time to end it all.

Silently, the disciple of Eru put his legs together and streamlined his body, using the air resistance against his body to direct him rapidly towards his enemy. Then, within a few seconds of beginning his approach, he grew stiff and began to glow a bright yellow, so bright that his visible outlines faded and his silhouette almost seemed to meld into one large torpedo-shaped projectile as he headed straight for the templar.

Eerily, Raava made no noise as he descended upon his opponent. From her perspective, she would only see a bright yellow shape, almost like a solid torchlight, rapidly heading for a vicious collision course towards her.

[~N~]

With the winds rushing past, fanning the flames into a full blazing embrace around the airship's balloon, the front of the ship practically destroyed with much of the prow blown to pieces, and his tri-cornered hat sent off to god knows where, ~N~ pulled himself back around the wheel to catch a glimpse of the combatants.

Glancing at the distant earth now hurtling at a seemingly crawling pace towards him, he caught a glimpse of them, Malstrom in free fall some distance away from Raava, who streaked towards her now like some glowing meteor. This sight bemused ~N~ for the moment, until the realization struck him:

They want to die!

The glimmering, mad smile returned to his lips. They were going to carry out his edict even unto their own deaths. He could not have wished for anything more. It was glorious in its sacrificial bloodthirsty madness.

"Onward then!" he cried, throwing the ships badly damaged guidance systems into full downward spiral, directly towards the two flailing adversaries, locked together in their deadly conflict, plummeting towards their doom.

At that moment, the first drops singed into steam upon the licking flames around the engulfed airship, and many more followed upon them.

The downpour had begun. Drops of water joined the ship, the captain, and the combatants as they all fell to the earth...