[The Osiris Open] Round 1: Faith vs Ioder

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Opens 1st June 2016 at 12am EST.

Arena to follow!

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Thy Flesh Consumed

Diary of Lufenia - 12th June

Long ago, the great demon lord Isa took residence in the top of the Tower of Babel and installed a harbinger of doom to guard it from intruders. The harbinger was a mighty warrior that presided over a portal that would lead anyone who dared to enter it to the very shores of hell.

After I left the Tower of Babel, I stumbled upon the gateway. Asking for the required blood sacrifice to enter, I obliged the portal’s will and cut my hand with the jagged blade I always carried with me, letting my curiosity get the better of me one final time.

When I stepped through the portal, I was stood in the centre of a blood smeared chamber barely six foot square. In front of me lay a single beige corridor. Its walls pulsed and vibrated as I traversed it, seemingly made from the remnants of undead flesh. Flaming runes were carved into the wall and the shrill screams of tortured souls echoed in my head, making me cringe. As I came to the end of the long corridor, I hurdled a grate made from bone and sinew and entered another room.

The room opened up into an enclosed valley of rock and twisted metal. Stone pillars made from rocks of varying shapes and sizes towered above me, forming an inner circle about thirty feet in diameter. When I pressed my feet into the floor, the barren, scorched earth beneath them barely moved. Jagged pieces of iron jutted out from the pillars and the outer walls, forming dangerously sharp spikes that pointed to the interior of this place.

Much like the Tower of Babel, the stomach churning scent of rotting flesh was ever present and it was so humid here that forks of sweat ran trickled down my arms as I clambered onto a nearby ledge. Above me, the sky swirled into a vortex of black and molten orange. Claps of thunder assaulted my senses from above.

As I turned to leave and backtrack down the corridor, an iron, bloodied gate closed in front of me, blocking my path and trapping me in this gladiatorial hell.

Will I die here?

[Faith]

What could a girl know of Hell? The tomes of the Sway that she’d spent her short life studying had certainly spoken of that cursed place where evil went to be punished forever. Heat and torment lay in wait for those souls – certainly not her soul. Luca was far from home, further from Salvar that she’d ever been. From the looks of the room, she was further from the Holy Light than she’d ever been as well.

Beneath a sky of molten fire and storm, she looked around. Packed rock around her, peppered with the jagged spines of iron that gleamed when the lightning flashed and threw long shadows along the walls and floor, and shuttered gates beyond. She was trapped, though when she’d stepped through the doorway into the arena she’d expected just that. The same old sailors who’d teased her for her spear and armor having been too pretty to see much use were the ones who’d sent her to the ziggurat.

Within the circle of monoliths, the ground was smooth and dark, as if it had been scorched many times over by the storm ahead. The cast of light made it hard to tell if the dark earth were brown or truly the hue of rust that washed over it. Under her leathers, Luca was sweating. It itched as it ran down her back, the humidity making the gulps of air as unbearable as the smell.

Beyond a gate, she could see pulsing hallways. Was this the dark heart of evil itself? Were all the rooms of the Citadel like this one? She’d gotten more questions than answers from this place. Dark shadows moved down the hallways, obscured by the gates, dim light, and the tears that kept springing to her eyes from waves of nausea. Something was coming for her, and she prayed to the Sway she was ready.

[Ioder]

For how many times Ioder had come here you would think at least once that he would be disappointed. But yet again the monks on high who design these arena showed excellent craftsmanship. This was by far the most elaborately dark battlefield yet, hell even, as if they had been there to know. Ioder was more than satisfied with their arrangement of stone and fire.

Ioder teleported into the tetrahedron of death under a Hellfire sky. He quickly examined his surrounding through the slits in his mask. Jagged spikes covered the perimeter, there was no running. Open sky above, but no flying. The firestorm would see to that.

Then he saw the girl, a scrawny looking knight. But looks we're often deceiving, he needed to stay on guard. Just beyond his opponent was a cobweb covered gate carved from bone. Ioder could sense a putrid unholy aura resonating just beyond. He wasn't sure what to be more worried about.

As he took his first steps into the arena he adjusted his war mask. It was that of a dragon, covering his whole face with a choppy black wig over his hair. On his right hip he wore two blades, Helfa and Alessia. He hid his wings under a twisting tunic and wore a full plate mail on his right arm.

Ioder dared not speak a word, this wasn't about any fancy speeches or tricks. They we're here for one reason, and one reason alone. With quick hands Ioder drew the first of his swords, Alessia the Opal Blade of Akashima. He waved it in wide crescent above his head before assuming his stance.

Though his attention was on the lass now Ioder was more than aware of the dangers beyond the sinew gate.

[Faith]

“Lo, the dragon descended upon mankind,” Luca quoted. Her voice wavered much like the shimmer of heat and humidity that rose around her. Her opponent seemed to quiver, though she knew better and her sweat was both the temperature and nerves. Gripping her spear a little tighter, she moved away from a spike-studded pillar and placed her helmet over her face. The metal was scribed with wolves and lightning, the same dark iron as the scales that littered her leather armor.

Underarmed, underprotected, and out of her element. Just what she needed.

Jaroslav the Pious had been similarly outclassed when he’d battled a dragon, the paladin reminded herself. The scriptures were clear that Jaroslav should have died, but with the Light of the Sway guiding his spear, he prevailed. Now, she prayed to the saint, that his wisdom would fill her and help her slay her own wyrm, though he be but a man.

She’d need to keep him back so that the reach of her spear could be a boon over his sword. Casting the invocation to the Sway, she felt the warmth of the Spark coming to her hand. As the lightning flashed overhead, a length of whip flashed into her free palm. She pulled it back, prepared to lash it forward. To her silent opponent, she nodded. Her voice came out dull when she finally spoke, a nasal base of her normal range as she tried to breath without using her nose lest she embarrass herself by vomiting before she could even introduce herself.

“I am Luca Stormbringer! Good battle to you.”

An armored boot moved forward and she struck with her spear, aiming for the shoulder that held his sword.

[Ioder]

The turquoise opal of Alessia flashed with every thunder clap reflecting its torrents of fury. Ioder watched very closely as she summoned forth her whip of divine nature. He noted her wide range of weaponry and the skill it required to use such an arsenal. He was right not to underestimate her.

She attacked first, a well planned thrust of her javelin started our fight. It appeared that this Luca understood the nature of this tournament, to fight and win. Ioder had but a moment to react. As a dark grey smoke began billowing from his mask he stepped back.

Her spear met with the grey metal of Ioder’s gauntlet as he parried and pivoted. The protective barrier that covered his body began to shatter and crumble from his right hand. It fell to the ground like glass breaking and crumbling. Then as quick as the lightning flashes above it reformed itself anew. He finished his backwards rotation pushing Luca’s weapon across her body while sweeping his blade violently aimed to slash her back.

The smoke escaping from his maw wrapped around Ioder’s from. It was a potent magic that acted as an extension of himself, capable of great feats both defensive and offensive. To anyone able it put off a rather aggressive and eerie presence. Ioder wondered if Luca’s divine teachings allowed her such cognitive power.

Only time would tell...

[Faith]

His armor fell from his body like icicles falling from the eaves of houses when the sun came out, but the clink and sparkle felt far darker than pure ice. She was aggressive, but he managed to turn around her, billowing smoke as if he were truly a dragon. In the end, his sword swept across her back and split the leather. The blade was made of stronger stuff than her protection and a smattering of iron scale fell to the ground along with the shards of enchanted armor that lay there.

She yelped, a strangled scream reverberating beneath her helm with the steam of heat and sweat. Her back stung and ached, and the salt of sweat that dribbled into the cut from her shoulders did little to help. Now, it was real. This was no simple sparring match, but the threat of death in the Citadel no matter how transient gave levity to their encounter.

As she hopped away, pivoting on her hip to try and face him and his blade once more, she pulled the whip around. It swung in an arch, quick but unwieldy. Luca was without as much practice with this weapon, most of it involved standing still. She knew when she threw the whip at him, the dazzling light flinging forward, she couldn’t count on much impact.

His demonic armor, however, couldn’t possibly be less affected by lightning than the scale she wore. She didn’t know what it was made of, or what was pouring from his mouth. Possibly the souls of his victims, she mused. It didn’t really matter. The devil was in the details, and she’d been conscripted to bring the end of the devilish.

[Ioder]

His blade struck true as a thick rope of blood stained the burnt charred earth beneath them. He managed to sever a portion of her armor as well as she staggered forward. Ioder relished in his small victory for a moment until the earth beneath him began to rumble. Her blood on the floor activated some form of ancient rune.

Ioder watched both the girl and the runes through the slits in his mask. The earth cracked and began spewing small purple flames in the shape of a pentagram covering the charred center of the arena. It would seem that through her pain Luca struck out possibly not noticing their folly. As the flames died the decrepit bone gate began to creep open.

Her whip flew through the air wildly and seemingly without direction. It wasn't luck that her divine lightning wrapped itself around his wrist, it couldn't have been. Yet still it delivered a debilitating shock to his blade arm forcing him to drop Alessia and fall to one knee. His opal blade skipped across the room finally resting against one of the jagged twisting spires. Sweat and steam began to fill his mask as he huffed and puffed recovering from the incredible surge of power.

With his back to the gate he could hear the jarring and lurching coming from behind. He felt a wave of unholy energy come over him as gate fully opened. With his arm still in Luca’s clutches he couldn't turn to inspect what was coming, but he knew they were in for a fight. Using what he had at his disposal Ioder shaped the smoke around him into a jagged spikes covering his backside in case of attack.

“Looks like we have more than each other to worry about now lass,” Ioder said breaking his solemn silence. “Whatever we just released is going to be far worse that either of us.”

[Faith]

She blinked back tears from the pain and sweat from the heat as she stared, blankly, at him for a moment. It was as if his words had to fight through the miasma in the air just as much as their lungs did. The open gate beyond, however, was like a breath of cool air, cutting through and searing the throat after leaving a sauna. If she’d been drunk, she’d be sober now. The shadows she’d seen earlier were growing closer, though the light hadn’t really changed.

Beyond the glowing amethyst pentagram, the ground began to crack. The packed earth split and shuddered, gravel pieces flowing together like water pulled upward by some unseen force. She couldn’t understand what was happening, and for a moment she doubted her eyes. Luca Stormbringer, though, had seen miracles. Under the eaves of the church of Denebriel, she’d seen wonders of the Sway. Her faith in the Sway was rooted in things that couldn’t be explained and this only solidified her thoughts that she was no longer under the roof of the ziggurat she’d entered, but rather had been ported to the bowels of the underworld itself.

Blue eyes focused on the shadow that had slipped under the sinuous gate and had begun to take form from the crumbled stone of the flooring, her whip slipped from her hand. The lightning shuddered and flickered before fading away. The loop that had wrapped around Ioder’s wrist was gone and he was free.

“It’s something like you,” she said to the demon she knew. The jagged iron that had been imbedded in the stone pillars had similarly been drawn, ripped out and leaving pits and holes. Now standing behind her opponent, watching her, was a creature with a face of pure darkness. It was swathed in armor made of stone, each tiny fragment of rock moving as if it were chain, adorned with spike of iron. The weapon it held was a twisted sword of iron made of one of the long protrusions. The smell of death seemed to grow once it had come together, if that was possible.

She was outnumbered now, and said another prayer. A small incantation and the blessing of The Saint activated. Her iron spear began to glow, faintly. It shone more golden than the storm overhead or the dim magma glow from the halls. It was the Light that she was counting on to keep her alive in this place.

[Ioder]

It wasn't clear till now but the presence that had been giving off such an unholy smell was a Haidian Construct. A demon that used the scarred and scorched surroundings to manifest its devastating armor and strength. Ioder turned to Luca and rose from his knee, he wasn't exactly sure what he needed to do. He watched as the young girl said another prayer to her gods, as if anyone would hear her call.

The rune began to fade as did its amethyst hue returning the arena to normal. Bringing himself to his feet Ioder reached for Helfa, his secondary sword. It felt good in his palm and brought back a significant memory of his past triumph. Carved from the finger of Moonwing, Mother of Dragons, Helfa was imbued with her mighty power. Ioder flicked his wrist once more in an arc before he began his final attack.

Looming in front of our two heroes the shadow faced demon swung his mighty greatsword above his head. He let out a flesh curdling screech before lunging at the two. Ioder hadn't the time to consider his options and stepped up to greet his powerful assault head on. The demon’s weapon came down hard aimed to bisect Ioder at his shoulder. The smoke that was Ioder’s mystical armor erupted into a fury as it caught the monstrous attack like a thicket of sand absorbing its momentum.

Ioder slipped past the brute under his greatsword kicking up a cloud of charred ash in his wake. Ioder’s armor seemed to fade away momentarily as the demon recovered and swung again with all his strength. Though his new foe was mighty Ioder was quick bringing up Helfa to his side catching deflecting the monster's attack. With the demon between himself and Luca they had a chance to end this in one foul swoop.

“Now girl,” Ioder yelled out as he and the monstrosity were caught in a blade lock, neither one ready to move lest they be cleaved in twine. “While I have the demon you need to end this.” he didn't know how the lass would act, and at this point it appeared that neither of them were meant to win this fight.

Suddenly as if to come from nothing two copies of the masked dragon appeared to either side of the monster. Both lunged out grabbing and holding tight to his strong arms. They were composed of the same magic as Ioder’s smoke armor yet solid as seemingly with a mind of their own. It wasn't much but now the monster was pinned and ready to be skewered by our fair maiden. Ioder used this brief moment to disengage and take a small step back free from piercing distance.