Challenge of the Ixian Captains - William versus Duffy

[Revenant]

Of all the combat challenges that William had issued to his fellow Ixian Captains, none had intrigued the Revenant more than the challenge against the Reformation Squad Captain, Duffy Bracken. He had cooperated with Duffy and the eclectic cast of characters that made up Duffy’s Tantalum during the rampage of the massive Wendigo through the streets of Scara Brae. With Duffy being somewhat of a notorious rogue on the island nation, William supposed that he even had a duty as Captain of the Scara Brae guard and Knight Provost to apprehend the flamboyant acrobat. But that was a matter for another time and place. Today, in the famed Citadel of Radasanth, William only had one reason to meet with Duffy.

As with all of his challenges against his fellow Captains, William had to push his way through the crowd of onlookers as he made his way to the appointed chamber. He briefly caught a glimpse of Lorelai and Rawls, two of his monster hunting squad, as he passed by, though he made no attempt to acknowledge them. Likewise, the bright garb of one of the Tantalus Troupe caught his eye with its garish, clashing colors from deep within the crowd. It seemed as if everyone had turned out to witness the fight between the jester and the demon. In truth, all of William’s challenge matches had garnered serious attention throughout Sei’s Tomb and the Ixian Castle, some going so far as to set up betting pools on which Captain would come out on top. In this way at least, William’s intent to provide a bonding experience for the various Ixian Knights squads had been a success.

Now he just needed to succeed at beating Duffy.

The door to the battle chamber swung silently shut behind William, magically fading into thin air as it did so. No sooner had it done so than William found himself assailed from all sides by a numbing cold which cut right through the heavy cloak that he wore wrapped tightly around him. As the man setting up these challenges it would have been easy for William to have each battle chamber setup in his favor, but what little sense of pride remained within him balked at the idea. It could certainly be said that the biting cold of the frozen, ice covered room, and the slick, near frictionless surfaces of the many jutting walls and buttresses filling the frozen chamber put things in his favor, but William knew that such things would prove far more of a boon to one with the legendary acrobatic skills of Duffy Bracken than it would for him.

Unless he was wrong; in which case this would prove to be a very one sided battle, much to the disappointment of the cheering crowd outside.

[Duffy]

Duffy did not know what to expect upon arrival, and once again the Citadel did not dissatisfy. He had strolled into one of the many domes in Radasanth's premier fighting establishment too many times to assume something less than extraordinary, or indeed, something less nightmarish than agony and terror. He feared little, for a man who had everything to lose from fear itself, but snow, and the cold, and the loss of one's movement and grace was one thing he could not attest.

"Blasted daemon," he mumbled as he pulled up his demi-scarf and clasped his gloved hands together. He had abandoned the use of his Tinder Gear for many a moon, but now, he was grateful for bringing the simplistic but effective mechanical device into the fray. The rasp of the flint shards sewn onto the leather of his clothing echoed out into the arena, before quickly being whipped away in the melee of the howling gale.

Whatever the reasons for issuing this strange and boyish challenge, Duffy hoped William would not hold back because of their friendship, or because of the trials they had faced together in bringing the Wendigo to it's knees, or the Comet and Curse of the Innari King to falter at the last. There would be no forgiveness where death dare not rear it's head, and no sorrow in the bard's heart as he danced and sang and struck out into the furnace of war.

He strode into the snow and clambered up the many footholds to be free of the earth and to be let loose into the wind and sky. A bottle smashed to the ground seconds later, emptied swiftly by it's owner to tickle his bones and innards with caramel warmth. The Captain of the Ixian Knights Monster Hunting Team would see the Monkey Man at his best - drunk, dizzy, and full of charm.

[Revenant]

The scowl on Duffy’s face brought a slight smile to William’s. It appeared that the Ixian Knights’ resident thespian didn’t care much for the icy temperature of the chamber that William had so lovingly set up for him. Not that the biting cold would matter at all once the combat started and the blood started pumping. Or flowing, William chuckled darkly.

While Duffy chose to take a high perch on one of the numerous shelf protrusions William felt perfectly comfortable on the chamber’s slick ice floor. And as Duffy chugged his liquid courage warm his insides to prepare for the upcoming duel, William let his own brand of liquid warmth spread through his body. Wisps of condensing vapor rolled off William’s body as his demonic power poured through him. Glowing cracks burned through the Revenant’s charred skin and the rough bon carapace that manifested on his arms and legs dug into the smooth, glassy ice floor. Clenching and unclenching the barbed talons at the end of his feet, William mused that though Duffy had the agility, he most certainly had the power.

The shattering of Duffy’s empty alcohol bottle echoed throughout the ice shelves. “Don’t want to die sober?” William asked, stalking across the glistening terrain towards the bard’s perch. Each step left a slush-filled pool of water behind William as the aura of heat surrounding him quickly broke down the chamber’s ice. The slushy water in turn rapidly froze again once the Revenant had fully passed, leaving a pockmarked trail in the pristine arena behind the warrior.

William’s eyes stayed firmly affixed to his wavering opponent as he stalked forward, the burning coals in his sockets focusing so intently that it appeared William was trying to bore a hole through Duffy. He yearned to pounce upon the lithe figure, to feel the meat and sinew part beneath the caress of his bladed fingertips, but his carapace and talons only allowed him to maintain his balance with careful steps. Left without the use of his inhuman speed, William was forced to go against his nature and play this fight defensively.

“Ready when you are, fancypants,” William called out, his clawed fingers curling in a beckoning gesture. “Let’s not keep your adoring fans waiting.”

[Duffy]

"Adoring fans?" Duffy snarled, snapping into a retaliatory vein with as much gusto as a costume change. He charged forwards before he could think straight, whiskey bottle falling and daggers suddenly spiralling in his wake. With every step his robes flapped in the up-draft. The smell of whiskey rushed up his nostrils and his senses roiled from a drunken serenity to a pounding, semi-energetic bounce. He was, as they said, as ready for the fight as he would ever be.

The creature before him was no mere opponent, though. From the fight with the Wendigo on the streets of Scara Brae to the various conflicts found in this very Citadel with the other Captains of the Ixian Knights, which Duffy had enjoyed watching immensely, he had seen a glimpse of the tyranny that rested in William Arcus's heart. It was ironic then, he thought, as he drew nearer to the daemon and crossed his weapons over his chest in a defensive stance that pounded up and down with the timing of his steps, that he was the 'reformer' of the group...would he get the chance to show William the light that kindled those around him, reveal in him the legacy that Duffy himself had sewn months before.

The Helmet.

The sorcerous travails of Scara Brae's history had been the perfect cover to lure the Revenant to the top of the palace's tower to stake claim on one of Wainwright's Artefacts. Wainwright's Mind was it's name, an artefact steeped in as much blood and sanctity as any other mythical item resting on this god forsaken world. It would soon be time for the final battle and the heroes who had fallen in with the six artefacts to wield them for their true purpose.

But until then, Duffy snarled, his hair swirling in his wake and his connection to the Aria shining metaphorically behind his youthful eyes, there would be blood and war and sport.

He drove both daggers into William's torso area, and chuckled as he did so.

"Let's not keep them waiting at all!"

The opening line, the rapturous applause, the jeering crowd.

This was Duffy's stage.

[Revenant]

Fiery eyes followed the flashing steel of Duffy’s daggers as they thrust in for a quick kill, the molten heat behind them blazing with excitement. Though he played the part of acrobat and thespian, Duffy was no less well-trained in the murderous arts than any master assassin and even so basic a maneuver was flawlessly timed and executed. Twin slivers of light struck at William with the speed and force of a hawk diving for a field mouse, only to be halted a hair’s breadth from William’s chest.

“I expected more from the great bard,” William hissed and tightened his overhand grip on Duffy’s daggers. While he may not have had mobility on the slick surface of the icy floor, William’s supernatural speed was more than sufficient to counter such a direct assault. Of course, having hands covered in bone as hard as steel helped too.

Exerting only a fraction of his strength, as he didn’t want to just tear the blades from Duffy’s grip, William rotated his wrists back to twist the blades away from his chest and brought his knee up. Knee strikes were Ta’Gaz’s favored Muay Thai strikes and the legendary fighting master had drilled their use into William’s mind when the Revenant had trained under him; figuratively and literally. The Revenant hoped that Duffy would keep a hold of his daggers while William twisted them so his arms would be pulled out wide and he would be forced to lean into the bone-shattering knee strike William was delivering. Given William’s demonically enhanced strength, such a blow would crash into Duffy like the swing from a raging ogre’s club.

Though he didn’t want to finish the fight too quickly, and thus deprive the cheering crowd outside of their entertainment, William had found Duffy’s graceful approach nothing short of frighteningly miraculous. Given that he himself was only remaining upright on the nearly frictionless floor by virtue of his demonic enhancements, the graceful ease with which Duffy had moved made him feel like a lock-jointed beast in comparison. And this, he knew, was an intoxicated Duffy Bracken; he didn’t even want to think of how formidable the man would be in a sober state.

What William needed, he knew, was to keep the bard close enough that Duffy’s agility would be nullified by William’s own sheer close-quarters lethality. But the disadvantage that William had put himself in by choosing the icy battle chamber reared its head as William’s knee swung upwards and the rough bone on his stabilizing foot broke free from its grip on the chamber’s icy surface. It was free and had then regained its grip in less time than it takes to blink, but even that fraction of a fraction of a second’s loss of control was enough to shift William’s knee outwards slightly.

For anyone else the shift wouldn’t have mattered, but for someone with the legendary agility of Duffy Bracken, such a shift might mean the difference between a killing blow, a crippling strike, or a complete miss.

[Duffy]

Duffy's arms snapped out under the duress of William's perfectly strung quarter of manoeuvres. He barely had time to recognise the rising strike and the rush of wind from his lack of breath before he delved into the sanctuary that had protected his predecessors, and guided all of the children of the Tantalum troupe through these dark and untrustworthy times.

"I am no bard," he whispered as he vanished.

The blue tendrils of light spiralled harmlessly around Revenant's daemonic form, and the scintillating arrangement of a harvest festival cantor rattled across the shimmering ice plain with a fain tinny echo. He had connected to Arden Janelle's soul through the union of ages that bound them all together and acquainted himself once more with the exhilarating thrill of lightning quick transportation.

"Ugh," he threw up on the jetty that rested at the heart of the mercury sea. It was fortunate that time flowed differently in this other world, as he did not fancy himself re-emerging covered in bile, only to take the knee to the face anyway.

He wiped his maw and stood upright, clicking his suddenly frozen and stiff limbs into lively action. One or two jumps and he was right again, and he got back into the stance he had left Althanas in; stationary blinks, so Blank had informed him, required a perfect execution of agility and manual dexterity on the return to carefully and strategically avoid both harm and incoming threats.

The mercury sea fell silent as nauseous struck momentarily and dragged the Tantalum back across dimensions. Blue ribbons of light fell across the sea stained jetty, at odds with the calm serenity of the infinite bleakness that surrounded it, and a rowdy tavern jig filled the silence through the cracks left in Duffy's wake.

A sudden rush of air, a mere two seconds after he had vanished signalled his return. Instantly, he felt the rush of cold temperature uncomfortably strike the exposed parts of his skin. Fortunately for Duffy, Revenant's knee had already descended, and his slight adjusted down when he had vanished had carried his arms to just below the hellish claws. The extrapolating and sudden sense of freedom comforted Duffy long enough for him to crouch down in a tight ball, and look up with a wry smile at his brother in arms and fellow Captain.

"I am just a boy, from a small family," he flipped backwards with such speed he almost threw up himself. As he spiralled backwards out of the reach of those serrated blades William called hands, he brought his heavy boot up, after giving it a quick tap on the solid ice. The Trappings of Sparrows prooved suddenly and intricately useful for more than maintaining traction on slipping and vertical surfaces.

Two pronged spikes rose to William's cheek, and then Duffy was gone, thirty feet away, crouched down with one hand on the ice with fingers splayed for balance, and one rising up into the air in a twisted and archaic position more akin to a spider monkey than a human.

"I am just a play-Wright...acting a role witnessed as the truth."

He panted slowly, letting the cold sooth his burning lungs with every staccato breath. His daggers rested carefully in his palms and tantalised the Captain with the promise of conflict, and William burnt with all the fury that would answer that cry for battle.

"Tell me, what truth am I witnessing, why this petty show of strength, William Arcus? Why the need to prove yourself to those who have already accepted you as a kindred soul...what is the point?" The snappy British accent formulated out of a need to be dramatic and poignant, and he struggled to keep back the street slang accent that people had become accustomed to taking as Duffy's very own trademark.

"I don't mean to pry," he stood slowly, "but I'd like to know why the need to kill me?" The Arctic wind ruffled his matted black hair and cast the demi-scarf around his neck to the wind in two plumes of obsidian cloth; they mocked stubs of wings, and the whip of the material on his neck and the howl of the gale through the bitter landscape added to his sense of expectation, his sense of urgency...his sense of fear.

[Revenant]

It wasn't the blades so cleverly concealed in Duffy's boots that set William off. His thick, charred skin and heavy outdoor clothes stopped the worst of their bite, though the trickle of blood that seeped from the small wounds in his abdomen caused his clothes to blacken and smolder. It wasn't even how easily he had slipped on the icy chamber floor and had been sent reeling that caused William's blood to boil. The thing that really got under William's skin, he knew, was how Duffy focused his energies on idle chatter rather than fight a proper fight.

The sudden upsurge of anger that William felt as he slid away from his prancing opponent caused his molten core to flare with renewed purpose. A hideous crackling screech filled the arena as William's claws bit into the floor. It echoed off the odd lines and contours of the slick, supportive pillars, criss-crossing and amplifying until it seemed that the entire arena was filled with a hideous chorus of screeching. Answering this screech was the primal roar of hatred and fury that William loosed as he climbed back to his feet.

"I'm going to kill you!" He snarled in a voice that no longer even remotely sounded human. His clawed foot stamped down onto the ice with enough intensity to anchor himself to the floor, though it wasn't necessary. The fiery aura of heat William possessed literally rolled off of him in waves that liquefied the ice around him, his demonic power actually enough to nullify the freezing magic of the battle chamber.

"And you ask why?" William was done with the waiting, done with the defensive stance that he had taken at the battle's onset. "I'm going to kill you, I'm going to kill all of you. And then, when I can cast your broken bodies in front of me as a testament to my power, I'm going to challenge Sei and rend him limb from limb."

Liquid fire pooled in William's clawed hands as he ranted, a physical manifestation of his internal rage. A creature of destruction, William had learned that even his anger was a deadly weapon that he could use. He could see the mixture of emotions rippling across Duffy's features, though he was too far gone to register any of it. Not that it would have mattered at this point, as William's humanity had been so subsumed that one wondered if it had existed at all in the first place.

William broke into a frenzied charge, his eye blazing with inner fire as he splashed across the arena towards Duffy faster than any human could ever manage, a horrid scream tearing out of his throat. The molten power in his hands coalesced as he crossed the space in a matter of heartbeats, until he released it in an explosive burst towards the spot where Duffy clung, insect-like, to the icy wall.

Barreling down upon the explosive shot at full speed, William fully intended to accomplish with his claws what was needed if his magma shot failed.

[Duffy]

As William bore down on Duffy, the bard could manage only a smile. The creature that resided in William's heart, the very heart of darkness was too easily tempted into the light. All that anger, the blinding passion of rage, was a weapon unto itself, but one bent inwards on it's wielder, threatening to strike him in the chest if he made one wrong move. The rush forward was Duffy's opportunity to gain the upper hand and prove himself the better man, the better Captain, the better friend.

Logic, and certainly common sense would've told a quick-witted fool like Duffy to move, as quickly as possible out of the reach of those barbaric claws. He cocked his head as the heat wave rolled in, and rolled his eyes. The tall and solid face of ice immediately behind Duffy threatened, if just for a moment, to be the thief's grave, but it would soon become the Revenant's'.

Out the claws came a raking, and through thin air they feebly cut.

Duffy dissipated in a familiar flash of blue light, spiralling ribbons and cheeky smiles. Too angry to take heed of the strong union between the Tantalum and the many Aria Borne members of the troupe, the creature that had challenged Duffy suddenly sped full speed with reckless abandon into the shimmering, rock solid cliff wall.

Duffy re-appeared, and without thinking, stepped quickly forwards and span on a heel to hope to catch the impact in all it's catastrophic, sycophantic glory. His hair swirled with a dramatic flick and his demi-cloak spiralled in his wake, and the crowd roared and gasped at the daring.

[Revenant]

One moment Duffy was standing ready, prime meat for the slaughter, and the next he was gone. It was as if the bard was taunting William by ignoring the Revenant's explosive magma shot and vanishing a hair's breadth before William could get locked into combat. Now William found that instead of being able to vent his rage on his opponent's flesh, William was charging headlong into a wall of ice with an expert swordsman at his back.

Had William been in different circumstances, he would have worried about having an opponent at his back. As it was, however, he was far more concerned with the sheer icy face in front of him and the ball of fire that he had thrown.

Without Duffy to stop it, the magma shot flew headlong into the wall a step in front of its maker. A sphere of fire blossomed from the point of contact, and the thunderous boom that it made was dwarfed only by the sounds of cracking ice. Giant rents appeared in the chamber's wall, fractured lines driven by the force of the explosion and aided by its intense heat.

The wall was already falling when William hit it, a crumbling mass of broken ice from base to top. Even William's inhuman speed couldn't save him as he was buried under a pile of man-sized ice cubes. A cold wind and a fog of icy sleet filled the battle chamber, and when the rumbling subsided, there was no sign of William save the lingering scent of ash and a trail of rapidly refreezing water.

[Duffy]

It did not take long for William to rise ascendant from the steaming rubble of the ice divide, and not much longer for Duffy to swallow his brief and momentary flourish of triumph. As the weight of the dark navy ice had fallen, and the water from the gout of flame had hissed and tormented down, the plucky bard had whistled a little tune and flinched at every agonising crash. The only thing his little evasive manoeuvres had accomplished was to make the daemon even more irate, and likely more determined to rip his throat out with those lacerating talons.

"I guess I can avoid you for only so long, so I will acquiesce with the childish banter, witty retorts and prevalent need to survive...in favour of something a little more to your murderous ways." He clicked his neck and jumped on the spot, as if he were limbering up for something wondrous and even more daring, then stood absolutely still.

William stepped out of the rubble and kicked aside a chunk of ice Duffy was certain would have broken his own foot if he had tried. Such strength and unbridled hatred could only be attested with a heart as bright and stout in it's formation, one that Duffy alone failed to possess. He reached slowly up above his right shoulder, and took hold of the hilt that awaited his shaking fingers.

As they connected with the black wrapping of the Katarhna, he sanctimoniously felt a rush of blood to the head, and fell into the darkness of his own mind. A second later, he landed on the jetty in the illusionary world called The Aria, and stared up at the glimmering visions out through his own eyes. With a smile, he let his past lives formulate his reasoning and bring their expertise to the battlefield.

Lysander smiled at William, cocked his head left then right, then drew the Akashiman blade with a long, cold ring that filled the chill arena to the brim. All the childish inexperience and brazen recklessness vanished, and he spread his feet into a low stance and brought the blade vertical directly dividing his torso and waited for a moment.

"It is time that age and wisdom showed you the error of miscalculating the strength of a man on his appearance alone..." his voice too changed, becoming gruffer and more edgy, as if battle-cries had been sung and lovers seduced with the same very breath. "Break my guard, and you shall have your massacre, but break it not, and fall beneath the cantor of decadence that is your own self doubt, loathing, and inhibitions!" A gust of wind pushed his hair to one side, and he spat furiously to drive anger through his oratory.

Duffy cheered from his mental prison, and Lysander beckoned for the daemon to walk into the impenetrable field of the Sword of the Western Weald, and the stone wall of a true hero lost to body but not the mind.

[Revenant]

Steam rose from William’s charred body like the morning fog rising from a murky glen. A grunt escaped his lips as he heaved a chunk of ice which was large enough to crush a normal man off of him. Streams of water pooled and ran from the shattered remains all around him, their spray causing a full body sting to wash over the demonic warrior. Not that so minor an annoyance would prove to be of any consequence when his entire body felt battered and bruised. And though he growled and cursed Duffy’s name as the cause of his aches and pains, deep in the back of his mind there lurked the knowledge that this was only the result of his choice to stage the battle in an arena that wouldn’t give him an advantage.

He certainly wasn’t going to make the mistake of being generous and noble again anytime soon.

But even the knowledge that this entire debacle was his own fault wasn’t going to stop William from flaying Duffy alive. He was going to enjoy peeling the still living flesh from the shifty bard’s bones and listening to his wails for a mercy that would never come. Assuming, of course, that William would be able to get his claws on the dodgy bastard.

Surprisingly, a change had come over the bard upon witnessing William’s rebirth from the icy trap of his own devising. From the look of him, Duffy had apparently come to the conclusion that his game of keeping just out of reach wouldn’t be enough to defeat William. On a normal day, against a normal opponent, it would have been a marvelous tactic, and was likely one that Duffy was best able to use to his advantage if the last minute was any indication. But since the slight twin holes that Duffy’s boot knives had made in William’s chest with his dodging backflip attack were already closed over, it would take heavier weaponry to bring this fight to a close. Duffy’s posture straightened the moment he drew his masterful katana from its sheath on his back, becoming at once more rigid and yet more controlled.

But the worst part was that though Duffy’s speech had changed, he was still spouting his flowery nonsense. That gave William a headache no amount of ice falling on top of him could match. He thought of responding with a snarling quip, or telling Duffy just how much he didn’t care what the bard had to say, but settled for just grabbing a man-sized hunk of ice from the pile at his feet and hurling at Duffy’s carefully prepared sword-guard.

[Duffy]

Lysander turned his left heel and span the blade in the palm of his hand, a simple, sudden movement. He responded to the movement of the ice chunk with such skill Duffy suddenly felt very and utterly aware that he was still nothing compared to the lives he had lead in the past.

"Fight me with metal and skill knave," he snapped around in a spin and cut the chunk in two. The Katarhna sliced through the ice without resistance, and the shards scattered to his left and right with a scintillating array of thuds and chimes.

Duffy crossed his arms on the jetty and tapped his foot. "Show-off," he mumbled.

Revenant was faced now with a very different opponent, someone who had broken the confines of death to walk, even as a mockery of himself, on the surface of Althanas once more. The flaming daemon and the Swordsman of the Western Weald stared one another down, and Duffy watched, for once, part of the audience as opposed to the leading man.

"Whenever you are ready, daemon," Lysander split his feet apart and bowed his knees slightly, taking on his weight onto his haunches. He brought the Katarhna up to split his torso in two, and held the hilt of the blade with both hands. The stoic defence of his recanting defence started to coarse through his veins.

"<In the measure of the man,
In the medley of his motto,
In the surprise of his destiny,
He falls for victim's sorrow!>"

With a hum, his blade burst into life, vibrating with a thousand reflections of cheers and applause. Whilst in this state, the blade singer sang his impervious wall, daring the daemon to break through an unbreakable wall. Whilst in this state, however, he had to maintain absolute focus, and could not strike his opponent for fear of breaking the power of his own song - a magic as timeless as Duffy, and as timeless as the bonds of friendship which were burgeoning amongst the captains of the Ixian Knights.

"Fight me, tear my throat from it's accent, tears my heart from it's soul - I dare thee, creature, you toy not with a boy, but the very epitome of the man harbouring within!" He roared his challenge, his black hair swirled in an up-draft of thermal exuberance, and the fight continued.

[Revenant]

”Quit … talking!” William screamed as he grabbed a second block of melting ice and hurled it at his flowery spoken opponent, and then another, and another after that. Too furious to be content merely hurling the shattered contents of the chamber at Duffy, the revenant devolved to kicking at the icy rubble surrounding him. Shards of ice and powdered slush filled the room in a flurry whose intensity could complete with the densest of Salvaran winter storms. But while it was a violently impressive display, William’s furious tantrum was about as effective as whistling to stop the wind. If Duffy had been an apprentice warrior rather than a man of the caliber that he was, the random violence may have elicited an aura of fear, but as it was the worst that William accomplished would make Bracken a little wetter.

The watching crowd buzzed at the impressive, if not effective, display. Many of the Ixian spectators marveled at the guts required to goad William into such a mindless fury. Others were slightly hesitant to praise such a dangerous plan without seeing what consequences it would have first. William was a frightfully inhuman combatant and there were not many people brave, or foolhardy, enough to draw out the demon’s furious passion. Only the Knight of the Apocalypse Jensen Ambrose had had the stones to rouse William to this level of anger in recent memory and the man’s rising death count at William’s hands was a testament to the strategy’s folly. All of these instances, of course, had been conducted under normal circumstances. Within the confines of the icy battle chamber, which made a perfect foil to the demon’s molten potency, things were bound to be different.

William was left hunched and panting by the time the ice stopped flying around the room. Anyone could see that the demon had expended a great deal of energy and was once again struggling to overcome the chamber’s icy enchantment. Waves of red anger receded from behind William’s eyes as he took stock of the situation that he had put himself in. Was it scorn or embarrassed shame that he saw in the look that Duffy gave him? He sighed inwardly at the folly that had just removed his greatest asset from a fight where it was sorely needed William.

“Alright then, you want to test your steel against me?” William advanced slowly, taking measured steps on the slick icy chamber floor, the sound of crackling frost from echoing in time with the tapping of his clawed feet. Watching the swordsman like a hunting cat stalking dangerous prey, William circled just outside the reach of the Katarhna’s curved blade. “I might be spent but I’m not used up.”

And with that, William lashed out with the wicked claws of his leading arm.

[Duffy]

The power and hubris of Duffy’s method acting was just potent enough to matter when faced with the Ixian Captain’s otherworldly strength. With a flick of his wrist, he found the reflexes within to shift his body weight and block the rock hard ice projectile as it carried itself towards him. The rage that came out of his demonic peer was unearthly, scary, and lost entirely on the cold composure of the Hero of the Western Weald. With the razor edge of his well-honed blade he cut through the second, and knocked the third out of harm’s way with a backhand strike.

With each parry, he felt the weight of the blow strike him, dredge the breath from his body and tear at his mettle.

Duffy, from The Aria, watched on with anxious clenches of his chattering teeth. He could feel Lysander’s resolve failing. It would be soon time for the bard to return to the stage.

“<I will always stand against discretion,
I will always hold steady against obsession.>”

William followed up his outrage with a rant, a lunge, and a raking gambit that would have torn lesser men in two.

Lysander stepped away from the onslaught, hopped out of harm’s way and slinked away from certain death with the grace of a lynx. The man’s face, which was as goofy as Duffy’s but bolstered with a new found sincerity scowled and hissed. His regal glare fought to pierce William’s mottled, enflamed hide.

“It is when we are spent that we are most dangerous.”

Feeling the pull and allure of the mercury sea of The Aria, Lysander too began to feel spent. Raising his haunches, he cut the Katarhna, the sword of the western weald named Brandybuck across his midriff. It was a defiant gesture, a readying stance, a clear tell to his opponent, no matter how insane he was that he was preparing to attack.

“I will leave you be now, William Arcus. Before I depart, however, allow me one last vignette.” The swordsman cut a cross in the air, brought his hand in a flamboyant arc over his head and clicked his neck. The recanting orison, his defensive shield faded as he finally ceased his incessant chatter. The last notes of the song in his mind, and the song echoing in Duffy’s in the dark corners of another world faded.

“What are you afraid of?” He ran forwards, duellist stance prepared, and sword unable to strike under the providence of the spell song that still bound his bones.

He let go.

Duffy felt his stomach churn, and knew that soon he would return to his own body. When Lysander left, the power of the orison would cease to exist. He hoped that there was enough mettle left in it to block William’s inevitable blow. Exposed, Duffy would be free to slip back into his own body and follow up with a surprise thrust to the demon’s gullet.

Either that, or he had just handed the man his head on a plate.

[Revenant]

Stand still, damn you, William’s mind snarled at the prancing figure who deftly darted once again out from under his grasp. William was far faster than any normal human could ever hope to be, but even his demonic abilities seemed nothing compared to Duffy’s agility. The supposed bravery of Duffy’s professed challenge to face him in stand up melee evaporated as one minute the man was there, and the next he was several feet away.

It was absolutely infuriating but William had never supposed that the fight with Duffy would be anything but.

“Bastard,” William hissed, a haze of annoyed anger buzzing through his mind and drowning out Duffy’s string of nonsense. He watched the man’s ridiculous salute with a detached excitement, plotting the bard’s position, the best way for the man to use his acrobatics to attack over the icy terrain, and what about the situation could best be used to his advantage. Sooner or later Duffy would have to face him. Playing keep away might work against an opponent who tired easily was a good strategy, but against William’s healing ability, time was not on Duffy’s side. William tensed, waiting for Duffy to make his move.

William watched as Duffy finally moved, surprised that of all the avenues of approach available to him that man should choose a headlong charge. Furiously, his mind raced to determine what sort of trickery, what feint the acrobat was planning. He saw the moment Duffy came into reach, open and unguarded, and let it pass, believing that taking advantage of the opening was what Duffy wanted; as if the opening was a way to put William off-guard while Duffy’s superior athletic ability allowed him to maneuver into a more advantageous attack position. A flash of silver caught William’s attention, a primal warning causing him to leap back instinctively. He realized too late that there was no subterfuge in Duffy’s attack and that he had once again misjudged his opponent.

Though Duffy’s speed was greater than William’s, the revenant’s inhuman abilities were still enough to save his life. William had twisted enough that the Katarhna only lightly kissed his neck, which remained unscathed thanks to William’s thick demonic hide, but his face wasn’t so lucky. The razor edge of Duffy’s blade passed neatly under William’s jaw and up through the Monster Hunter’s cheek. Jagged teeth and blackened jawbone flew from the wound, and a ragged lump of flesh hung precariously from William’s chin.

Shrieking in pain, William staggered away from Duffy, reaching up to tear the offending flap of flesh that hung loosely off the side of his face. Acting completely on instinct, William flung the hunk of skin, covered in his own burning blood, at Duffy while his feet worked to put some enough distance between the two of them. Unfortunately, two steps back and his clawed feet failed to make a significant purchase on the chamber’s icy floor, sending the demon tumbling to the floor.

[Duffy]

The offending article slapped the still awakening Duffy square in the face. There were many reactions you expected from being struck with a discarded fold of skin, but shrieking in pain was certainly at the bottom of that list. The bard scrabbled for his precious face, tearing at the flesh with haphazard, clumsy motions. Even when he got a firm grip and pulled it off, the blood smothered his pallid skin and scoured off several layers with a painful, piercing and sickening wave of agony.

He let go, and the sound of flesh striking the ice accompanied William’s tumble.

Still swaddled in a misty haze between his identities, Duffy rocked on his heels. His instincts kicked in, and he tore at his demi-cloak, hoping he could clean away the detritus before it ate through his skin and started to dissolve his skull. Fear, panic, vanity, they all combined to bring him very swiftly to his senses and back into the fold.

“You fucking lunatic,” he said softly, the corners of his lips already crackling and singed to prevent him from shouting. He dreaded to think about the pain if he opened his mouth wide. “That wasn’t fair.”

It did not occur to Duffy that he had, from the very start, been playing anything but fair. There was a certain amount of decorum, Duffy knew, to observe between peers. He swallowed the lump in his throat as soon as he managed to clear his face, though it was left reddened, seared and smeared with the blood of his enemy.

He felt suddenly and inextricably ashamed to be alive.

“God, William, I’m sorry.” The two men had come to the arena to fight like equals, and even though William’s duality as a half demon, or whatever the hell he was had gotten the better of him, it was in his nature. Duffy had betrayed his own sense of self; just because he wanted to win so badly he would do anything. “This is not what I wanted…” It was, however, likely what Sei Orlougne wanted. Though the bard had tested the mettle of the Ixian Knight’s leader many a time, he had not expected the man to return the favour so painfully, so quickly, so eruditely.

To show that he was done, Duffy slowly and steadily sheathed the Katarhna, which resisted the fiery blood of the demon but smouldered with contempt and selfish victory all the same. The bard dropped the bloodied folds of his cloak to the ground, and watched the hiss of steam rise up into the sky as the acidic qualities of his fellow captain’s body made short work of the icy plateau.

“I gracefully declare you the victor,” he said, smiling warmly, bedraggled and broken, but earnest in his intent.

[Revenant]

Pain was a familiar companion to William. Every minute spent in his demonic form was a minute that his own power consumed his him, tearing his body apart from the inside. And then, just as quickly as it tore him down, his power built him back up so that the process could start again, an infinite cycle of creation and destruction warring in the core of his very being. But that pain was a pain that William understood, it was a pain more familiar to him than any lover had ever been. It was a pain that made him stronger, and he embraced it.

This pain was different.

Having half your face sheared off wasn't just something that William could ignore. The shock of it tore through his mind, savagely rending any amount of concentration that the warrior possessed. With nothing left to him, William did the only thing that he could think of to fight against so much pain. He let go.

Garbled as it was, the scream that wrenched itself from the demon's torn mouth was unmistakably inhuman. All sense of the woodsman was gone from the creature that sprang it its feet in the icy chamber, flinging gobbets of molten fluid about like a dog shaking off water after a rain. This wasn't William Arcus, this was the Revenant, the living weapon that an infernal sorcerer had torn a man's soul apart to create.

The demon's screech of inhuman rage reverberated from the icy walls and pillars of the mirrored ice chamber, building in intensity until no other sound could be heard. And then, when ever the magic of the Citadel itself shook with fury, the demon leapt at Duffy, heedless of whatever pacifying words that the bard spoke. Molten strength and speed threw the demon forward like a bolt from a crossbow.

The crowd viewing the fight from outside the chamber had fallen silent. There were no more whispered wageers, friendly taunts, or jeering cheers, only an awed hush and a sense of chilling dread that wafted through the stunned viewers like a ghostly wraith. Fight or flight were the options of a wounded animal, but with the demon there was no possibility of a flight.

The air cracked around the demon's sweeping claws as the burning creature approached Duffy. A cloud of ash poured from the demon, lifed by the waves of heat rolling from it. One of the chamber's three foot thick support pillars of ice got in the way of the Revenant's blackened claws and erupted like wet paper. The demon's strength could smash through steel or rip a bear in half with ease, and Duffy was now in their way. Duffy was faster than his opponent, more agile, but though there was no sense of focus or training left in the Revenant's fighting style, all it would take was one slip up for the man to lose it all. Fortunately for Duffy, the demon's rage was overpowering his body's ability to repair itself and he was literally beginning to come apart at the seams. Lost in his midless, pain filled rage, the monster hunter couldn't have restrained himself if he wanted to. For better or worse, this was the end.

[Duffy]

Duffy did not have time to swear, draw a weapon or roll out of the way. Even with his speed and dexterity, the flaming onslaught came thick and fast and without remorse. His stomach, sloshing with nerves tightened in the last few seconds before a ravaging of claws, aflame and passionate tore through where, until a hair’s breadth ago, the bard had been standing.

William, or whatever William had become in his rage streamed through the empty space and continue his tirade onwards, blue ribbons swirling about his smouldering skin, echoes of passion and anger still bouncing around the crystalline ice world like lost souls screaming in the depths of a cold, bitter hell.

There was a distant lullaby in the air as the ribbons faded, as if something had slipped out of whatever abyss Duffy had slipped into.

“You’re not doing a tremendous job of this,” Lysander said softly, tapping his foot on the decking at the heart of the silver mercury sea that was The Aria. Duffy, still tingling from the teleportation, could only glare at the blade singer.

“I will talk to you later,” the bard snapped, feeling he wanted to vomit, before he quite literally erupted upwards. Lysander watched the bard shrink in size until he was nothing but a speck in the clouds, then nothing.

“Send a boy to do a man’s work, and you get playtime,” Lysander chuckled, before he faded into the nothingness in silence. His time in the spotlight was over, for now.

Though time ran its course different in the heart of the Thayne Tantalus, on Althanas, Duffy had been gone all of two seconds. With an outwards eruption of blue ribbons and a raucous melody of Salvarian courtly music, the bard re-appeared. His feet dropped to the ice, and he had to steady himself as the inertia of the teleportation nearly sent him flying. Frozen in a statuesque position, he slowly lowered his hands when he was sure he wasn’t going to end up arse first.

“Where the devil did he go?” was all he could muster. There were no long, erratic, dramatic soliloquys left in the bard, just as there was no fight left to test against the demon’s titanic hunger. He put two and two together, and shuffled his hob nailed boots on the spot so that he slowly turned about.

He rested his hand readily onto the cold hilt of the Katarhna, out of survival instinct more so than a desire to continue. When he set his gaze into the small of William’s cracked and runic back, he felt anger rise up his oesophagus and start to choke him once more.

“I said you win!” he shouted.

“No rage or wrath or ruin can bring you peace here, William.”

Shaking slightly, Duffy relented and unsheathed the Katarhna. The Akashiman blade allowed for an easy production of its single edged length, which was cleaned by the small insert or cloth in the scabbard. It caught the cold blue light of their surroundings as it rose, falling naturally into place in both the bard’s hands. He was goading William, because he hadn’t the foggiest idea how to wield the blade properly – it was Lysander’s after all, and he had decided he was above and beyond this petty child’s foray.

He would stand there, and face whatever awaited him. Defeated, the bard could only resign himself to the flash of pain that was to come as he was torn cruelly apart. He would awaken, this time, quite well and alive in the infirmary. The only part of him that would be bruised would be his ego, the only aspect of him battered, the once fine and razor edge of his sword. He swallowed the lump in his throat, cracked his parched, dry lips open, and smiled one last time.

[Revenant]

Three times the monster hunter had closed in on his counterpart, and three times Duffy had jumped across the space between spaces. This had caused William no small amount of annoyance, but the demon took it in stride, thrashing about wildly for a second on the spot where Duffy had just been. Realizing that there was nothing fleshly under its claws, the demon spun, seeking new prey, heedless of the damage it was doing to its body. The rents in the demons flesh were fully venting flame and ash, and even the blackened bone claws on his arms and legs were showing stress cracks. Sighting Duffy, the demon bounded towards the readied bard and his haw, already ruined by Duffy's slash, fell away and disappeared in a puff of ash.

The crowd outside watched in rapt amazement as William's body litereally tore itself apart in a burning cloud. No longer hot enough to counteract the freezing aura of the chamber, the demon's feet scrabbled and slid on the slick ice floor sending the demonic figure spilling to the floor again and again. Each fall left a progidious amount of ashen ruin piled behind him until William was little more than a burnt skeleton swirling with furious flame. Even so, the shell of a creature plodded on, intent on the destruction of the flashy figure before him.

No amount of determination could have helped the demon win the day. Duffy's delaying tactic had worked, letting the molten power of his opponent do his work for him. The spectators watched the demon approach Duffy and make one last feeble strike only to see his claws crumble to dusty ash as it struck Duffy's blade. A fraction of a second later, the rest of William's body followed, filling the room with a smokey haze of ashen Revenant.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Challenge of the Ixian Captain’s – William Versus Duffy

Considering this thread is clearly old, and that you both have grown significantly since then I will offer generalizations and some helpful advice I STILL notice when reading your works. Both of you should have no qualms contacting me in regards to any of this.

Story:
William (17) Not a terribly new idea for you even when this was first started the challenge to the captains had already been issued and many answered the call. (Though few made it) You did well to create an arena that balanced out your insane power to compensate and give a sporting chance to an at the time level 4 Duffy. As the action picks up, you nitpick the setting, but do little to bring it to life as an extension of what’s going on around you, something you do flawlessly at the start. Keep the setting consistent and this will boost your score greatly. Your conclusion, well, it was explosive, but very abrupt and while I understand you felt the need to just tie the knot and finish this, that sentiment showed.

Duffy (15) You had a solid, if not awkward start through this. I understood that Duffy was confused to accept the challenge, but as I read on, I started wondering why he did. Duffy mentions Sei setting him up, but it was only that. I never got a good enough feel for what Duffy was doing there besides being drunk and brawling. You touched it enough to pique my curiosity as a reader, but leaving it unanswered left me just as frustrated as William; do not bring in elements without the intent to use them. Your setting work has been much improved since this time, and it shows the growth you take from these judgments. However your conclusion was very unsettling. A dude just got so god damn angry at you he burned himself alive and killed himself. You not having anything to reply to that really hurt this score.

Character:
William (21) I pondered this throughout the thread. Does William actually believe in fair fights? I looked at this and wondered to myself, why would William make a fair fight? As the match went on, I noticed the degeneration of William’s grip on reality, the change in tactics, the loss of his patience and the total change of the character as things moved along. Where Revenant starts a story, he does not finish in terms of character which is excellent! Ways to improve upon this would be to show the reader how William can fight to keep a grip on his control, or feel the sick pleasure of letting it consume him in all your works. Solidly done otherwise.

Duffy (22) You pissed off William Arcus. You got in his head and did things that drove him insane. I WANTED to punch Duffy in the face for prancing around like a nit wit. You evoked a strong reaction from me, and as I said before be it good or bad, a reaction is exactly what you want from readers. I hated Duffy in this, I wanted him to go down, I didn’t want it to end the way it did, I wanted Duffy not to realize he was winning, but have William punch his head clean off. You evoked that in me through your colorful Duffy’isms. You know this man the best in the tantalum troupe, and as far as keeping things growing, I only ask that to make Duffy really, truly shine, you do as you are starting now. Find the uniqueness that no member of the Tantalum can touch, and have Duffy guard it zealously.

Writing Style:

William (18) Nothing new in terms of style, great descriptors and use of technique to bring out vivid images, but I’m not going to lie. You had a bit of a few mechanical errors that stuck out including: Missed punctuation, not capitalizing Revenant, and even some missed words to complete a thought leaving the clarity of it to suffer. Give your old post a once over after posting a new one, and be amazed at what you missed. Your score here is reflected in high technique and clarity, but mechanics was very mid level. Work on that last one and this will hit 20’s without any problems. Easiest way to boost your score is right here.

Duffy (19) Duffy you had far fewer mistakes, and your prose and style is very engaging. My only beef with you is clarity. I got very lost several times, and while a 19 may look good up here, that’s more of your technique and mechanics, but clarity was shot in the foot. I do not, cannot, and will never understand just what it was Duffy did in this thread. Your slip into the Aria, the manner in which you slide from character personality to character personality leaves me utterly lost. I won’t give you a beating for it though, as you have grown from this time significantly. I am proud Duffy. Reading this after judging what you can do showed me how far you have come. Keep this up.

Wilcard: Gentlemen a few parting notes before I assign this score as you have both already mentally calculated your scores in your head and concluded they are very close. While I will give you both reasons for the scores in a moment I want to personally thank you for this fun little read. An exploding William Arcus, a delightfully dandy Duffy, all played well to make up this battle. However, I do not kid when I truly felt there were points in this thread where I felt you both posted in the wrong battle thread. Duffy you did have a few things on clarity which confused me. Revenant your mechanics did break me out of the world of imagination to stare and go ‘Abuwah?’, and that is a bit of a contributor here for you both.

William (6) I liked the ending, it shows that even after all William has done, the demon inside him has yet to subside, and perhaps despite coming to grips with it he has yet to find a balance. Very well done.

Duffy (5) As you mentioned to me, you grew a lot since this thread. And it showed. I am proud of you Duffy, but the change in style towards the end added even more to my utter confusion. And you drank a bottle of whiskey and were drunk for two posts before you completely ignored it. Bad Duffy!

William: 62
Duffy: 61

Split by a hair, but William Arcus has melted his way to victory!

Revenant gets 2475 EXP 126 GP

Duffy gets 675 EXP 126 GP

[Letho]

EXP/GP added.