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The Dragon Knight -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2008= Grand Finals (8/8/2008 19:04:39)
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Torrelle was becoming concerned. The effort of drawing from the Lord's pillar was excessively draining, despite the rather small amount he had managed to glean. Also, the water from the pillar was much harder to control and to shape than the naturally occurring moisture in the air. He was beginning to understand; the Water Lord's symbol of power in this arena was not meant to be relied upon. If he were to continue to rely on his Lord's power instead of his own, he would soon experience the bitter taste of defeat. It was time to prove that he was worthy of the Lord's power by fighting his own battle.
His breath came in shallow gasps, and pain shot through his body, an after effect of encountering the heated spray of the geyser. Numerous minor steam burns covered his body, causing the flesh to turn red from the heat in those places. He was far from seriously injured, thankfully, but the pain was an irritation that would not abate. He would simply have to grit his teeth and bear it.
As he watched his opponent rise from the red sands, the sheen of pain induced sweat covering the dwarf's stone-hard body, the young pirate could not help but notice the sudden change that had come over his adversary. Fey, he seemed; enraged by some inner betrayal. The monk had cast aside the vestments of his Lord and was preparing some form of assault. Judging by the steely look in the dwarf's eyes, Torrelle had no doubt that he was planning on using this attack to finish the job. The Pirate Lord's face became an impenetrable mask of grim determination. If the Chosen of Light wanted to play for the highest of stakes, then he was more than willing to play his own hand through to the end.
The golden rings of light slipped from the warrior's fingers, creating glowing balls of light about the size of a fist apiece. They floated between the two combatants for a moment before taking off at an incredible speed, straight up into the air. The pirate was surprised by this sudden tactic, and his eyes were inadvertently drawn upwards, his gaze piercing through the mists that surrounded him to follow the path of these instruments.
The dwarf moved. It was not sight that gave Torrelle this information, but rather an ability he had activated at the start of the Finals, just as he had in the Spiked Pit of Despair. The water molecules that filled the air transmitted the vibrations of movement, their range and effectiveness increased by the added moisture from the steam he had so recently created, and announced the dwarf's true intentions. Realizing that this attack was split between the magical orbs and the dwarf's charge, the Maelstrom made an instinctive decision about his defense.
The vapors that were beginning to disperse suddenly reversed their course, gathering together and drawing even more of the moisture from the air than he had originally been using. The scattered puddles, as well as the liquid sash he wore, all evaporated, forming small droplets that hung as a cold, clammy cloud, a thick fog that the dwarf charged blindly into. Now that he was just as invisible to his opponent as the Light Champion had been to him, the Pirate Lord made his move without hesitation.
Calling upon the small reserve of water he had left in the earth, as well as calling the spent arrows and spear back to him through the damp sands, Torrelle quickly side stepped the charging dwarf, ducking down as he did so to avoid the swing of the axe. With the warrior monk now thrown off balance by his own swing, the enchanted longsword easily found its way through the unprotected second and third ribs, the watery blade piercing deep into the soft tissues of Sabadhai's lungs. As his attack struck home, Torrelle desperately threw up a hasty defense, a thin umbrella of water from what little remained of his secret underground supply.
Once his sword pierced his foe's side, the hidden reservoir within the steel activated, and thin needles of water shot out from the pores of the metal. The glowing orbs impacted with the thin shield of water, detonating with a brief series of explosions, their cascade of thunder washing across the crimson sands in a wave of violence.
The light from the explosion was incredible. As it faded, smoke and steam was all that could be seen of Sabadhai and Torrelle, for a few moments. Nobody had been able to see what was transpiring within the fog, and now that fog was lifting. The mists were fading, and the smoke was being gently drawn away by a light breeze that went unnoticed to the fighters on that deadly playing field. A sudden gust, and the final shreds drifted off, accompanied by the coppery scent of spilled blood.
A pool of scarlet was spreading faster than the sands could absorb it. The two fighters seemed locked frozen in place for a moment. Sabadhai's body resembled a pin cushion, with countless needles of crystal clear water penetrating his flesh from the inside. Slowly, the hand that gripped the axe slackened, and the now unneeded weapon fell towards the sticky pool below. The light that composed the deadly instrument, with no will remaining to hold it together, scattered in a shower of glitter that quickly faded into oblivion.
With a sickening slurp, the needles retracted into the blade once more, and the body of the once mighty Sabadhai Gelam fell, first to its knees, and then forwards onto its face in a splash of blood.
The battle between Light and Water was over. Torrelle stood for a moment, his eyes resting on the expression of his opponent, frozen forever in a grimace of pain. Droplets of blood covered the victor's silver studs and filled his platinum hair, and streaks of red ran down his face as a mute testimony to the determination that had allowed him to finish what he'd started. The powerful longsword rose, the blade held vertical before the pirate as he offered his worthy foe the only gift he could. Respect.
"You have earned my thanks today, Sabadhai Gelam. Because of you, I have learned much about myself that I would likely never have discovered on my own. You fought well, and while victory may have eluded you this day, you have shown great honor to one you would count as an enemy. Rest in peace." With these final words, Torrelle turned his back on the Dwarf of Light, and stepped towards the Pillar of Water. Extending the blade into the pillar, he offered the blood of this sacrifice. The swirling waters accepted the blood offering, and the crimson disappeared as soon as it entered the Lord's domain.
Turning back to the arena at large, the fearsome swordsman dropped to one knee, the blade of his short sword digging in to the sand to support his weight. The exploding orbs had been more damaging than he had thought. A trickle of blood escaped the corner of his lips, and he was suddenly doubled over with coughing. A new patch of red stained the sands, almost indistinguishable from the grains themselves. Bringing the outburst under control, his right arm lifted to wipe the residue from his lips. This was a sign that the shock waves had managed to damage him internally, though the extent of the injuries remained to be seen.
Raising his sea-gray eyes to survey the destruction happening around him, the deadly pirate commander took a brief moment of respite to gather his strength, observing the battles progressing about the arena while he weighed his options before heading back into the fray.
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