Round Three: (2) Sons of Terrinore v (26) Infinity

[Elrundir]

Elrundir, like Thoracis, was eagerly watching the fight between Dirks and Hikari, but the elf's interest was born from amusement and anticipation while his opponent's was born from concern. Dirks was not in a good position - Hikari had unleashed several of his powerful runes on him, and was now growing to twice his original size. What raw power, the elf thought in a strange mixture of amusement and disgust. If a creature of light can be so impressive, then I shiver to think of the darkness within him. Elrundir was counting down the moments, watching his own fight just as much as he was watching Hikari's, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. This wasn't a battle aimed for victory anymore - it was a battle aimed for awakening such a beautiful darkness!

Just as Elrundir's pincer attack was about to go through, he witnessed Hikari thrust his falchion into the hard stone of the amphitheater, cutting through it like a warm knife through a cube of ice. That, Elrundir immediately realized, was the moment he was waiting for. The weapon was no longer in its master's grasp - that hideous artifact of light that served as a warden for the creature imprisoned within Hikari's very soul. He simply needed a chance, the one moment when Hikari was distracted, and this was it!

In his moment of excitement, Elrundir was hardly even watching when Thoracis shattered his ice shards and avoided Rouge's soul flare. He noted the action, of course, out of the corner of his eye, and grinned slightly. At Thoracis' words, Elrundir merely shook his head. "Not at all, old friend." The elf turned his head towards the debris still floating in the air - rocks and shards of ice from his song-spell that had been broken upon Throacis' anti-magic amulet - and extended his hand. "Not at all."

As soon as his hand was extended, the debris halted in mid-air as though time itself had stopped its ceaseless march. Elrundir lifted his hand upward, and the cloud followed suit, flowing into the air helplessly as his mind gripped and controlled it. The elf extended another hand, this one gripping his mythril staff, and pointed it towards the debris as well. He then twirled his body, separating his arms from each other and causing the cloud to split neatly into two halves, one directed by each arm like inanimate musicians following their graceful conductor.

Elrundir continued to spin, putting himself a respectable distance away from the newly-located Thoracis in a single motion. And his hands did not remain idle in that fluid motion; they continued to conduct the graceful dance of rock-and-ice, separating the clouds and directing them in different directions. A flourish of the elf mage's staff sent one cloud hurtling down upon Thoracis, aimed to distract him if not destroy him. Elrundir realized that his anti-magic amulet would not be able to protect him fully - the rocks, at least, were not conjured by magic, but merely broken up as a result of the spell that he did cast. And even if the amulet prevented Elrundir's telekinesis, that would simply cause the rocks to continue to fall, only this time out of his control.

But it was quickly evident that this was not Elrundir's focus. His eyes were not locked on Thoracis, but on the amphitheater's stage, where Hikari's blade remained entrenched in the hard stone. That hideous weapon continued to shimmer and glow, feeding its master with power. Elrundir would not allow a creature of light to win this battle. Even if he and Hikari lost, he was going to unleash that darkness! The second cloud, which was larger than the first one and guided by his free hand, raced toward the ground and surrounded the blade. Another burst of energy from Elrundir's mind lifted the sword up from the ground, causing it to float right in the center of the orbiting debris. Only then did Elrundir glance for a moment in Thoracis' direction, with his hand still outstretched towards the stage.

"You humans and your desire for glory." A grin came to his face. "No paltry victory can compare to my satisfaction of awakening another soul of shadow."

Turning his head back toward the stage, Elrundir quickly closed his outstretched fingers into a fist, and the rocks and ice rushed in to greet the falchion that hovered between them. All at once they collided with it, crushing it under their bone-shattering force. Almost immediately, Elrundir's ears rang with the beautiful, melodic sound of the black diamond weapon cracking and shattering under the weight of the rocks, the ice, and his own crushing mind. He knew that its light would be extinguished from this world, and that horrible white warrior would be no more, leaving only the hideous, gorgeous darkness lurking deeper within.

"It is time for the Darkness to shine." Elrundir knew that he would not last much longer in this fight, but this was not a battle for victory anymore. In his own way, he had already won.

Shattering of Jinkourai Ittou was worked out and agreed upon beforehand.

[Max Dirks]

There would be no more glory for Max Dirks. When Hikari lifted the former criminal into the air, there was little Dirks could do to struggle. The elf’s Damascus irritated his burnt arm every time he brushed again it and he could not feel his right hand because of the recoil from his previous attack. There would be no way to pry out of Hikari’s grip. The white light emanating from the stage was blinding. Dirks couldn’t even look his foe in the eyes. With his oxygen quickly depleting, his reactions became slower and his options became fewer. He even forgot to kick. It soon became clear—Max Dirks was going to die.

No, that’s not right…

For some reason Dirks was content, but he couldn’t remember why. The oxygen was too thin. He just knew that he would not die now. Dirks would return to Starlynn as a champion. But how? Out of the corner of his eye Dirks caught a blurred glimpse of someone. He squinted for a better look. It took a moment before Dirks recognized the man, but then he remembered—he was not alone. He had something that Hikari did not: a partner. He could never lose as long as Thoracis lived. The former criminal, no longer filled with hate or animosity, finally humbled himself.

“Thoracis…” Dirks yelled, but it came out as a muffled whisper under his crushed vocal cords. “Please…”

The ice mage answered his call immediately. There was a loud explosion, and Hikari’s grip slipped off of Dirks’ neck. Dirks fell to the ground and gasped as the fresh Lornian air entered his lungs. It was like a drug had worn off. Dirks’ mind started spinning and he could feel the small stones and pieces of synthesized diamonds as they pelted his back.

On his hands and knees, Dirks turned just in time to see Hikari slump unconsciously onto the stage. The bright light was gone, the elf was normal sized again and his black protective covering had faded away. Dirks could once again see the cut he’d caused. But the fallen mage was not the only spectacle. Above the fallen warrior, Hikari’s cloak was violently jerking in the air. It appeared as though the cloak, like Dirks moments before, was struggling for air. It whipped downwards, nearly smashing into Dirks’ eye. Then it rose into the air, jerked again from side to side, and then took its last breath. The cloak went limp and floated harmlessly on top of the light elf’s unconscious body. What the hell just happened? What did Thoracis do?

In the aftermath, Dirks rose to his feet, picking up his katanas from the ground as he got up. His mind quickly stopped spinning and his vision became clear. He quickly took in his surroundings. It appeared Thoracis was already on the move. Elrundir Galadhrim was caught in a pincer between Dirks and Thoracis. But Elrundir did not seem at all disturbed by his situation—he had a menacing look on his face. Dirks gritted his teeth. Hikari was lying lifelessly near a massive hole that had been blown into the ground.

“Sometimes you just have to fight.” Dirks mumbled softly across the stage to Thoracis. But the warrior would not fight like this. The former criminal tossed his katanas to the side and reached towards his chest. He grabbed his twin Beretta 950’s from their exposed holstered and brought them to bear. With flicks of his thumbs, Dirks locked the hammers at the back of the guns, causing them to ‘click’ in unison. Now the Sons of Terrinore would fight—not as individuals, but as a team—and they would win. Thank you, Thoracis.

(Bunny of Arawn was approved)

[Thoracis]

With one struggling gasp for breath Max Dirks put to rest any remaining doubt that Thoracis might have had. I have to help him, Thoracis knew, but things were happening too fast. Hikari’s unexpected transformation had once again left the ice mage stunned. The whirling pile of debris that Elrundir was controlling was noticed just a moment too late… He made a vain attempt to leap out of the way but the conglomerate of earth and ice smashed into Thoracis’ legs and sent him sprawling to the ground. “Ahhhhhhh!” Another scream of pain erupted from the mage as he felt the ligaments in his right knee stretch and pop. Writhing and rolling on the ground Thoracis grabbed uselessly at his exploded - at least that’s what it felt like - knee.

Just as easily as his knee was torn asunder Thoracis watched as Jinkourai Ittou was ripped from the ground and decimated by the other pile of debris. A semi-explosion followed which sent Dirks tumbling back to the stage and left Hikari looking like his former self, save for now he too was an unconscious heap on the stage. The scene with the cloak was lost to the mage who continued to clutch at his knee, trying to force himself up on his one good leg.

“Sometimes you just have to fight.” The words gave Thoracis the strength to push forward through the pain. He wanted to say something but feared the pain that would surely be in his voice. Instead he simply nodded to his partner, knowing that they were closing in on their first real victory. Nobody would doubt them after today.

Having to hold half of his weight on his staff Thoracis watched as Dirks leveled and cocked his Beretta’s in Elrundir’s direction. Max Dirks, The Mage Killer, Thoracis thought ironically to himself. Come on, squeeze the trigger! Thoracis began to hobble faster towards Elrundir. Shoot bastard! He looked at the criminal. Dirks was glaring at him. Was he waiting for Thoracis to act first? Shit, shit, shit… Thoracis realized. Dirks wasn’t likely to hurt Elrundir without magic, bullets or no. For a brief instant he felt dumb for not having realized it as soon as Dirks. “Damnit!” Thoracis exclaimed. “Now, now! Fire now!” Before he was even done speaking Thoracis cast his ice spike spell. Alone it would have been easy for Elrundir to avoid, but Thoracis knew that. Instead he cast the spell just in front of Elrundir. Unlike the bardic spikes cast previously Thoracis’ gave no warning of its coming, simply appearing from nowhere, just as two blasts echoed through the amphitheatre, one from each of Dirks’ guns. The bullets hit near the top of the spike, shattering it and sending multiple shards directly towards Elrundir’s face and throat. The casting was leaving Thoracis weary and his knee startled to buckle beneath him. With the last of his momentum Thoracis drew up his still-bladed staff and hurled it at Elrundir like a javelin as he fell to the ground.

“I’m sorry Dirks,” Thoracis gasped, exhausted, “I don’t know how much more I have left.”

[Arawn]

In the midst of his euphoria, even as his grip began to tighten around Max Dirk’s neck, a terrifying sense of foreboding came upon Hikari no Ashigaru. From the corner of his eye, he saw Elrundir’s attention drawn to the stage, though not precisely to the contest of man versus drow. What was he playing at? The light mage’s insides sunk as he saw Jinkourai lifted to the air by a sightless hand, surrounded by floating debris. The falchion glowed brightly to the very last. Unable to stop his traitorous comrade, could only look on in terror as the black diamond was fractured and burst into countless pieces throughout the stage. There was a final flash of light before his cherished relic was made naught, known forevermore only in memory. In that instant, the glowing elf’s eyes widened in shock. The next moment, there was nothing. No thought in the creature’s complex mind. No form of resistance as his form slumped limply to the ground, releasing his quarry. He bore no witness to the sentient cloak’s protest at its source of power being extinguished.

Nothing…

The white warrior’s brain was left blank. There was only a sea of blackness behind his closed eyelids. Someone mumbled something nearby and there was a flicker in the darkness. It was no more than minute spark in a vast ocean of nothing, but it was there. Then explosions, gunshots unseen by the fallen drow, upset the ocean once again. It began to muster a wave in the receding tide of what felt like thoughtless eons, sparks gathering at its base. As the upsurges of consciousness grew, coherent thoughts almost began to form, failed fledglings that nevertheless aided the rising surf as other waves had their turn. One such swell increased with now-incessant sparks of self-awareness, quickly reaching critical mass. It climbed high with the drive of its abortive peers and then crashed on the shores of the white warrior’s mind with a climactic explosion of realization.

The fallen being’s eyes suddenly flew open beneath the vlince covering, not a moment spared to trepid blinking. The beast was now in control. Its memories of Hikari’s reign were blurred. There had been something about a battle by an obelisk and shards of ice in flight. He had held a human in his gargantuan hand. Had the human been killed? No. Something had stopped Hikari; but what? Jinkourai… where had the accursed blade been? It was set in stone, an Excaliburesque sheath protecting it. But it had been removed, had it not? Yes, by the one who had drawn his attention before; the elf who had caught Hikari’s eye before and stirred the darkness within. That exquisite being had released him from the light mage’s control. Hikari was silent in their shared mind now, impotent. Elrundir had shattered his strongest tool against the vampire, one the undead creature was always unable to destroy on his own. Their mutual enemies were likely now assailing the elf.

“I must endeavor to thank him,” Arawn said to himself with a fanged grin as he began to rise beneath the cloak, unnoticed by the battle’s other participants.

[Elrundir]

Elrundir could only watch in glorious triumph as Jinkourai Itto shattered. To the taint still in control, the sound of that hideous weapon shattering like glass was absolutely unmatched by even the finest songs of Raiaera's bards. Their ballads and sonnets were like the screeching of harpies compared to the almost tangible melody of black diamond crumbling and falling to the floor, and with it, the very existence of that white warrior. Elrundir could almost feel the darkness rising like a typhoon within Hikari - but no... this was not Hikari anymore. This was someone - something - entirely different. More beautiful. More gruesome. More powerful.

"Isn't it beautiful?!" he asked to no one but himself. The elf's voice was much more enthusiastic than it had been so far in the fight, and the grin on his face was almost crazed. In a single, unexpected moment, though, that grin was replaced with a pained expression of shock.

"No!" The response came from the elf's mouth, but it was not his voice - or more accurately, it was his voice. His real voice. Still cold and arrogant, but much more pure than the voice that had been speaking before.

"Damn it!" The taint was speaking again, and Elrundir clutched his head as he waged his own internal war. "Let me out!" his true voice demanded. Elrundir's body seemed unaware of Thoracis and Dirks closing in on his position. He merely shook his head vehemently. "Never! Never again, you wretched elf!" It was strange to hear an elf not only speaking to himself, but demeaning his own race in such a tone. It was unnatural, just like the taint within him, and this served as a reminder of that.

For a while it seemed that both sides were equally matched, and that neither Elrundir nor the taint would come out on top. Thoracis' initialization of the attack turned the tables. As soon as the spike of ice pierced through the ground, the taint took advantage of a moment of weakness and regained control. It commanded Elrundir's body to hop back out of the range of the spike, only to find that, for some reason, it was not aimed to pierce him. Peculiar, he thought, eyes glancing from side to side.

He saw Dirks' Berettas too late. The shots fired and the ice exploded right in front of him, barely giving him enough time to react. Elrundir hissed in pain as the first wave of shards scarred his face and neck, causing blood to trickle down from several deep wounds and soak into his robes. He had only narrowly managed to avoid permanent or fatal damage with a last-minute burst of telekinesis, drawing close to his last reserves of power. With nowhere near enough time to actually turn the ice shards against his opponents, all Elrundir could do was let out a burst of telekinesis in all directions, forcing away the few shards that hadn't already hit him, as well as throwing Thoracis' staff off-course.

The taint was clearly in control now, as Elrundir's voice displayed when it hissed, "Guns... what pitiful weapons." That same voice rang out in a quick song, eyes still locked on Dirks. Elrundir knew that another attack would just about dissolve the last of his power. He might be able to squeeze out enough for one more after that if he really tried, and that would bring him dangerously close to unconsciousness or even death. The only reason he was still in this battle, being weaker than his ally and opponents, was that he was on the offensive for most of the fight and had not wasted much energy on defense. Even so, if Arawn did not come to his aid, he would not last much longer.

But an 'attack' never came, at least not in the traditional sense. Instead, the elf had wisely used a minor incantation to ice up the chambers of Dirks' guns, from tip to barrel. Elrundir knew that it was a grasping ploy; just because he didn't attack didn't mean that he would last much longer. All this would accomplish was taking Dirks' guns out of the equation, and saving a minor amount of energy compared to a full-on attack spell. It would give him one more minor advantage: Thoracis was currently unarmed, and now Dirks was as well. It would take each opponent a moment to rearm themselves, which would give Elrundir the chance to launch one more - his final - counteroffensive.

But win or lose, Elrundir had already achieved his objective. The grin returned to his face, tired and bedraggled though he was, as he looked back towards Arawn. Such a beautiful creature... "Show them our superiority. Show them why I released you. Bathe them in glorious darkness..."

[Max Dirks]

The darkness that plagued the battle finally revealed itself when the real Elrundir broke through the bonds that held him. Evident from the multiple voices, it seemed that two entities were battling for control over the elfish vessel. When the voices subsided it was unclear which entity won, but that was of little concern to the former criminal. Following their combination attack, Dirks found his eyes locked on his partner rather than his opponent. Something was dreadfully wrong. The ice mage appeared crippled. He was lying on the ground in an awkward position, grabbing at his knee. What had the elf done to Thoracis? Events were happening too fast for the weakened Dirks to comprehend. Instead, he focused on Thoracis’ words. The ice mage would not have to carry on—Dirks would do it for him. It was not over yet.

Dirks slowly turned his attention to Elrundir, aiming both guns at the elf’s head. Ignoring the elf’s comments about firearms and mistaking his song for a taunt, Dirks began to inch forward. He cut the distance between the combatants and likewise improved his accuracy. Dirks did not see the ice form on the tips of his Berettas, but he did feel a cool wave of ice creep through his body—particularly on his burnt left arm. When Dirks realized what had happened and that his guns would not fire, he felt his heart drop. His intensity immediately faded and the evidence of the battle again nagged at his body. He could feel the infection on his arm freezing under the ice. His head throbbed and his Adam’s apple was still lodged deep in his throat. It was not supposed to happen this way.

The hapless warrior kept his guns leveled at the mage, pretending to be ignorant of his situation. Hopefully this would amuse Elrundir long enough to keep the elf from attacking before Dirks pulled the trigger and ‘revealed’ that his guns were frozen shut. He looked about for anything that could reverse the cards in his favor. Then he saw it: Thoracis’ staff. The staff had landed near Elrundir after it was deflected as a response of their previous attack. It was his only hope. He would have only one chance to eliminate the elf. Dirks did not know that Elrundir's internal struggle had taken so much energy. He only knew that this dark incarnate could eradicate him with a single song. If he failed, it was only a matter of time before the Sons of Terrinore would fall. Dirks stopped moving forward when he was right above the staff.

When Elrundir momentarily turned his attention away from Dirks to the fallen Hikari, the former criminal pulled the triggers. The hammers jammed into the barrel, but the frozen bullets refused. The guns clicked, and Dirks mumbled. “No!” Dirks paused for a moment, pretending to be bewildered by this twist of events. But then he struck. Dirks dropped to his knees and let the guns fall to the ground. Then he picked up the ice bladed staff from the stage and thrust it upwards towards Elrundir’s exposed stomach. “Bathe in this…” Dirks cracked before pushing up his entire bodyweight into the thrust. He put everything he had into this final attack—completely oblivious to the meaning of the elf’s words and to the second dark entity that was rising up behind him.

[Thoracis]

The pain was agonizing; far worse then anything Thoracis had ever experienced before. Probably because pain like this is usually accompanied by death. He unsuccessfully tried to stand once more, but his leg would not again bear the weight. Dumbass! Thoracis scolded himself for having uselessly threw his staff across the arena. The attack had partially worked, but Elrundir was still standing, so it was little better then a complete failure. Now Dirks was stuck alone with nothing but his guns against the powerful magic of Elrundir. “Not like this…” Thoracis stammered through clenched teeth. He hadn’t gone through all this to see it unraveled by the likes of Elrundir Galadhrim.

He had to force himself up somehow. He had to help Dirks. Looking back to the center of the stage he found his saving grace. The obelisk! Immediately Thoracis began clawing his way towards it. He knew it was dangerous, he couldn’t see what was going on behind him now, but it was a risk he had to take. He was no good to anyone just laying there in distress. Every little crack or stone he passed over sent sharp, stinging twinges through his leg. For an instant the pain was dizzying and Thoracis thought he might pass out. No! Thoracis demanded of himself. Almost there.

He could only make out bits and pieces of the conversations behind him. “Let me out!” he heard a new voice shout. “…you wretched elf!” That sounded like Elrundir? "Show them our superiority. Show them why I released you. Bathe them in glorious darkness..." Who was he talking to? So close… Thoracis was just feet from his destination now. He could feel some kind of magic being used. He labored with the obelisk, desperately grasping at the stone to pull himself up. Finally! Thoracis turned back, keeping all of weight on his good leg. He saw it instantly; the ice that was jamming Dirks’ guns. “No!” He yelled after Dirks, just realizing his partners true intentions. Dirks dropped and grabbed Thoracis’ staff. You won’t get away so easily Elrundir… Thoracis managed a smirk. As Dirks thrust Thoracis used almost all of his remaining energy to coat the ground below and around Elrundir in slippery ice. The elf was in for a surprise if he tried to move.

The spell exhausted Thoracis and he slumped over the obelisk, having to use the full strength of his upper-body to keep from falling back to the stage. Behind Dirks a dark form had arose in Hikari’s place. There was something different, something Thoracis recognized, but could not place. He strained his eyes to see in the growing darkness. Fangs? But… how could… it makes no sense… a vampire? “Dirks!” Thoracis could barely manage even the single word. “Behind you!” It was all the more support he could muster.

[Arawn]

Arawn groaned silently in pain as he began to get to his feet and shrugged the cloak behind him, the sun setting at that moment under the distant Lornian horizon.

“Something’s not quite right,” Arawn pondered, more in self-reflection than frustrated grief.

As he rose, he began to feel a tremendously distracting stinging sensation in his left shoulder. Turning to it, he saw a mass of blood and torn flesh where his pale clavicle was usually situated. He could not recall when Hikari had sustained such a wound, his memories still greatly fragmented. The pain was stimulating for the vampire, however. It served as a reminder that he could indeed feel, that it was he who was in control. The shoulder would regenerate in time, though it was of quite little use until then. Lifting his right hand to the open wound, he dipped his index finger into the injury, his eyes rolling back into his head with masochist ecstasy. Pulling back the red-dipped digit, he licked at his own crimson blood like a child working at an alluring treat.

Looking back to the amphitheater’s other patrons as he lowered his right hand reticently, he saw the one who had freed him covered in blood that could only be his own, ice shards ripping at the fellow dark creature’s skin. What was going on? Taking a second to observe the situation, Arawn noticed a masked being was allied with a human nearby the vampiric drow. At least, that was what seemed familiar to him from the sparse remnants of Hikari no Ashigaru’s thoughts. It was likely either of them were responsible for his bleeding shoulder. He was being ignored for the moment, the humans bent on destroying his elven savior in flawed belief that he was fallen.

“Well we can’t have that, now can we?” he said under his breath.

He began to walk toward Max Dirks’ back, his fangs elongating like a feline’s retractable claws. He thought of the copious amounts of blood that could spill from a human’s neck. The scoundrel could so easily be taken unaware. Then, another pang of anguish came from the vampire’s shoulder. He stopped after only a few steps, his teeth set in a grimace. With an injury such as his, he had no assurances that the human could not overpower him. He cursed the unforeseen handicap. It had been so long since he had last slaked his thirst, he almost convinced himself to go further and sink his teeth into the criminal. However, the oblivious creature pulled away as he grabbed at an ice-tipped staff, leaving the nosferatu with limited options. Making eye contact with his liberator and bowing slightly, he sent a hidden hypnotic suggestion; a silent message to the kindred spirit within the elven shell transmitted at the speed of thought.

“I would like to thank you most genially for my newfound autonomy and wish to recompense your act accordingly. In light of the circumstances, I advise a retreat to be in order. Permit me to hasten our withdrawal.”

With that, the undead beast raised his free hand high in the air, pointing his middle and index fingers to the tip of the soaring obelisk. At its base, the masked Thoracis Rakarth slumped shouting a futile warning to his comrade. A cloud of darkness began to unfurl from the lofty monolith’s peak, falling downward like an oversized black satin cloth. It made the surface of the stone construct seem completely sheer. When the spreading shadow reached the ground, it exploded outward in every direction. The ice mage was the first to be enveloped, quickly swallowed up by the insubstantial, all-encompassing darkness. The cloud spread further and soon reached Elrundir and his accompanying assailant, immersing the pair in a light-less fog. At length, the vampire too was enclosed by the shadow, welcoming it with hungry eyes. It went on to encase the amphitheater in its entirety. His task complete, Arawn obfuscated his form and departed from his present location with calm, unseen movements off the stage and toward where he best believed stone steps to begin, breathing calmly in his element.

Shadow was accorded as well.

[Elrundir]

Elrundir was dividing his attention neatly between the three figures surrounding him. Thoracis, he figured, would be little danger to him now - the human was already weak and wounded, and would probably not be able to muster up enough strength to attack again. Dirks would, but with only one assailant to worry about, Elrundir would have an easier time avoiding whatever attack came his way. Arawn was the wild card, but Elrundir was simply glad that the darkness had been released; whatever the vampire did next was of little consequence.

And so, that neat divide began to quickly tilt in favour of Dirks. It seemed that the human had not yet realized his guns were iced up, because he was still advancing and keeping them leveled on Elrundir's head. The elf couldn't help but smirk - obviously he underestimated just how clever Dirks really was. Elrundir never had been one for giving humans much credit at all, be he normal or tainted or otherwise. And when his opponent actually pulled the triggers of those guns to absolutely no result, Elrundir's grin simply widened in amusement.

He didn't get the chance to speak, though, as Dirks was already on the move in a clever maneuver, and Thoracis was surprisingly not out of the loop. Even nearing death, the two humans worked together so hard to defeat him. It almost touched his heart; except that the taint did not consider itself to have a heart. Elrundir's face turned into a mask of shock and pain as the staff crushed his chest. Unfortunately, between his fatigue and his surprise, Elrundir did not have the ability to completely dodge the attack. It had been too much of a wild card.

But he didn't need to. The ice-tipped staff rammed into him like a cannonball, but even that magical ice was mostly held back by the links of his mythril chainmail, leaving Elrundir winded and bruised, but not mortally wounded. Furthermore, since Thoracis had iced up the ground around him, the elf simply began to slide backwards when Max attacked him - this lack of counter-friction just about removed any chance the staff had of truly damaging his body, since it would clang against the mythril chain and push him back instead of pushing right into him. The best part, in Elrundir's mind, was that he hadn't even had to do anything in order to avoid a fatal wound. He had just stood there; his armor and Thoracis' ice had done the rest.

Strangely, though, Elrundir did not let himself slide backwards too much after the hit. As soon as he saw Arawn approaching Dirks from behind, he grinned another twisted grin, and his free hand lashed out to grab the staff that had been threatening to impale him. This stopped his reverse movement cold, and although his stance was nowhere near stable or confident, the expression on his face was as he gazed into Max's eyes.

All Elrundir did in response to Arawn's mental suggestion was nod his head with an unusually-appreciative smile. When he finally spoke, it was not to the vampire, but to the staff-wielding man before him. "Do thank the Lord General for me, for saving me from a nasty bruise." The shadow that had been emanating from the obelisk was reaching Dirks and Elrundir now. It covered Elrundir before it did Dirks, and just before he was swallowed by darkness, the elf's grip tightened on the staff and his grin twisted. "That is, if you survive long enough to do so."

A burst of electricity coursed through Elrundir, jumped along the staff's surface (not through it, per se) using the last of the elf's remaining magic, and flowed into Dirks' body. The mage had used just about everything he had left for this assault. Whether or not it would finish his opponent off was irrelevant. Elrundir was simply determined to have the last laugh.

As the darkness engulfed the entire arena, Elrundir saw his chance to escape. He was running dangerously low on energy now, and would be an easy kill for the one opponent still standing. Rouge could hold her own for a little while, but he was not about to trust this to her, not when the battle was already won as far as he was concerned. Dirks and Thoracis could continue on to the next round for all he cared; that was the purpose of this battle in the first place. But at least they would have something to remember him by. And he would already have something to remember this battle by: Arawn.

"Better luck next time, humans," the tainted voice hissed through the darkness as Elrundir's body began to turn into its shadow form and seep into the ground like water through the cracks of a wooden floor. Before long, the elf was completely noncorporeal, and he had vanished into the shadow realm to nurse his wounds. Once there, the elf knew he would be absolutely powerless - there would not be a drop of energy left in his body. But he would be safe. No one would be able to find him there. He would certainly seek Arawn out later, but now was the time for rest. Rouge had also vanished, taking advantage of the darkness to flutter away from the amphitheater with great speed; she would join her master in the shadow realm soon enough. With Elrundir and Arawn vanishing in their own separate ways, Thoracis and Dirks were left to their own ways. They were certainly victorious, there was no doubt about that; but to the taint within Elrundir, neither money nor fame could compare to the glorious creature he had freed from its bondage.

Today had been a good day.

[Max Dirks]

The ice staff went blunt as it crashed into ‘dark’ Elrundir’s body. Something, probably armor, prevented it from cutting through the mage. With all of his weight pushing forward and Elrundir sliding backwards, Dirks slipped on Thoracis’ ice slick. A look of horror fell on his face as he dropped the staff and came crashing into the stage. Wave after wave of dizziness struck Dirks as he struggled to remain conscious for the final blow.
Soon a strange darkness covered the Monolith clearing. The sun quickly set on the Sons of Terrinore—and on the battle.

Dirks tried to move, but he was too weak to do so. Sweat poured down his face. Then it came: a final, powerful bolt of lightning struck the liviol staff and traveled down it to the ground near the former criminal. Dirks escaped the full brunt of the attack, but the shock still caused all of his neurons to flare. All the hairs on his body stood on end and he shook violently. Thankfully his heart did not stop. The flash temporarily broke through the shroud of darkness, giving Dirks a blurred glimpse of his surroundings. Elrundir was gone, but there was another. It looked like Hikari—but that was impossible. Just as the flash faded away, the creature stopped and turned back to look at Dirks. It grinned, revealing sharp fangs, before running away. Dirks shut his eyes and lowered his head, assuming there would be another killing strike.

It never came. A few more minutes passed. Nothing came. “What?” Dirks managed to mumble. He heard a mumbled response off in the distance. “Thoracis?” the former criminal called out. His partner was alive, and there were no opponents. Had the elfish pair retreated? If so, a sharp realization broke through Dirks mind: they’d won. Did that creature have something to do with it? Somewhat excited, Dirks began to crawl through the darkness toward the source of the noise. It took a good amount of time because Dirks didn’t want to cut his hand on a piece of synthesized crystal that had been scattered about the stage.

Eventually the criminal reached his destination. He could hear Thoracis’ breathing, though he could not yet see him. Dirks stopped and used the nearby Monolith to pull his body up. He flipped his body and set with his back against the monument. It took awhile, but Dirks eventually broke the silence. “You look like shit.” Dirks pushed out. He started laughing. Of course he still couldn’t see the ice mage. The criminal continued to laugh as Thoracis got up and the REAL sun set behind the veil of Darkness.

Dirks and Thoracis would advance. After ‘defeating’ the two most powerful mages on Althanas, the former criminal knew that nothing could stop the duo. It was only a matter of time before they took their crowns. They were the Sons of Terrinore, and they were finally the team to beat…

(Bunny of Arawn approved)