Storm Veritas vs. Witchblade

[Ther]

This match-up will last until 8 P.M. E.S.T. on 2/16/07. Remember, if you finish your battle early, I can score you early - and finishing early is a good, good thing.

Best of luck!

[Storm Veritas]

((Bunnies approved))

Gonna have to get the jump on this crazy bitch. Make it quick.

He had drawn the one called “Witchblade”, and decided to seek her out. The experience that Storm had with her in Haida told him she was not one to be trifled with. Not merely crazy powerful, she was also just downright crazy, with a sadistic streak a mile long. He didn’t want to mess with her at all, and would have preferred to simply have her killed, disqualifying her.

Of course, finding volunteers to kill a goddess wasn’t precisely easy work. He’d have to do it himself, and disguise his kill.

He’d moved back to the plains of Haida to scout her. It was an awful place, the sulfuric smells intoxicating and sickening. He was put off by the scent of death here, an overwhelming aroma that seemed to rise up from the black earth. He had been on the path for days, and that same rotten-egg stench had soaked through to his clothing. His French cuffs and pressed wool suit didn’t precisely stand the test of time in these conditions, and the caked on soot made his face look constantly unclean, unshaven. The dim lighting here was the result of the fog overhead, the black haze. Molten rock gave off its own eerie orange sheen, one that cast over the faces of all Haidians.

She’s in. Make it quick, don’t give her a chance.

There is a time when all people, human or otherwise, are very vulnerable. Storm had waited patiently as the Witchblade moved across the terrain, and smiled with delight as he saw her move into the small shack. The room was barely five feet by five feet, standing eight feet tall, with a crescent moon shaped cutout on the door. She would be very vulnerable there, where all people are reduced to the base need.

He moved swiftly around the outside, sprinting now. His feet were fast and focused. While the foul bitch would possibly be there for twenty minutes or more, there was the chance that he had only a few seconds on his hands. He turned square to it, looking at the rear of the outhouse and making haste. After four steps he leapt, lifting a mighty boot to the backside of the hut. The small thing buckled and swayed, rocking back and falling on its face. The inhabitant, trapped, let out a mighty scream.

“Aaiiieeee!! D’rentan, you asshole! You’re never getting laid again, dickhead!”

A chill ran through his spine, as a pool of horrible swill formed at the base of the outhouse he now stood upon. The woman inside here was certainly not the Witchblade, and his position had been completely compromised.

There was also the matter of an innocent demon woman in a pile of shit beneath him. The tournament had not started well.

[Witchblade]

Witchblade burst out laughing as she watched the predicament Storm Veritas had gotten himself into. All because he thought he could get the drop on her, all because he decided to play at this tournament rather dirty. Only now he was the one who found himself in a pile of shit instead of the other way around as he had hoped. It was amusing to say the least and down right pathetic and sad that the human had resorted to such tactics. To think that he could actually attack her in such a vulnerable situation. Had that actually been her she certainly would have noticed him long before he’d ever gotten close to that little shack. For starters, he made a lot of noise when he walked and she knew the vibrations and sensations of his energy. Not to mention she had no need for those places. Those shacks that the Demons visited quite frequently.

It made sense and yet it didn’t. All living creatures should have to use such things, but then again she never ate and she never drank so her body never resorted to…that. Thank all that was evil in this world for the stench coming from within was quite potent, even from this distance. Despite the smell of sulphur that permeated the air she could still pick out that sickening scent. It made her rather grateful her body did not share that weakness with other creatures.

Running her fingers through her hair, Witch pushed the strands back away from her face as she continued to observe the human and the situation he had gotten himself into. Oh, what to do was the question of the hour and the baby dragon beside her was posing no answer. Instead, he was curled up against her leg, his white body an immense contrast to the blackened earth around her. Though, he was a little grey at the moment. His scales smudged with soot in some areas. He didn’t seem to mind; in fact she was pretty sure he was asleep despite her abrupt rumble of laughter. The only thing Daegun ever did was sleep, that and cause her problems every now and then. He was company though, he was something to stave off the loneliness and she would be forever grateful for that.

Smirking, a motion that pulled on the strings holding her mouth closed, the halfling slowly rose to her feet. Daegun came awake with the sudden loss of touch and as she proceeded to wipe soot from the back of her cloak he stretched. His mouth becoming impossibly large as he yawned and his eyes slowly blinked themselves open becoming large black orbs that stared up at her curiously.

“Why don’t you welcome our guest, Daegun…?”

The dragon looked from her to the figure of Storm and quickly bounded down the rocky slope towards the human. His small paws slipped on the rough terrain causing him to stumble quite a few times. If the amount of noise his claws made on the stone wasn’t enough to call the human’s attention, he also called out some kind of welcome that sounded like a purr and a growl mixed together. His paws carried him remarkably fast towards Storm, as Witch herself calmly began the walk over. Her feet carefully picking their way through the darkened rocks that shifted under her steps. She was in no kind of a rush, unlike the human she had all the time in the world and not an ounce of worry over their little battle. She didn’t necessarily think it would be easy, on the contrary she hoped and expected the human to put up quite a fight against her but in the end she had a pretty good idea who was going to be left standing. Of course, overconfidence was not the best attribute and could be very dangerous but she was in no underestimating the human. He was a mage and she knew he had quite a few tricks up his sleeve, but so did she.

Daegun reached Storm before she did, his excited and carefree nature allowing him to approach the human without worry. He bounded right up to him and planted both of his paws on Storm’s leg. Of course they slowly slipped off the surface leaving sooty paw prints behind and Witch has the distinct feeling that would annoy the human more than any sarcastic remark she could throw his way.

“Welcome back to Haide, Storm.”

A devilish grin was plastered on her face as her eyes slid from the female Demon back to the human who seemed quite…output at the moment. He had after all just fucked up.

“For what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Her words were carefully chosen and laced with the utmost courtesy and kindness. She wanted him to know she’d seen the whole thing and had known just what he was planning and just who he had hoped that woman was.

Folding her arms under her chest, the halfling pushed already prominent assets out just a little more as she leaned heavily on one leg. Today was a perfect day for a battle. The fog was heavy in the air, the sun was a burning orb barely visible through the thick grey haze and there was barely a soul about. Save the idiotic Demon who was pounding upon the wooden walls of the shack. The last time Storm had pissed off a Demon he’d nearly died. Of course in her good nature she had saved him, healed him and kicked some demonic ass. And for her troubles, he repaid her by attempting to sneak upon her and attack her in a vulnerable situation.

Humans really were such a pathetic race.

[Storm Veritas]

Terrible rumblings and screams from underneath the wooden box ushered out, but the woman was trapped. It was a fortunate thing; he could get away from her long before someone else would come to push the outhouse to another side and grant the door an open access. He stepped lightly to avoid the fast spreading pool of dark colored liquid, a disgusting thing that gave off an acrid, unbelievable odor. The terrible stench was not so distinctive from the sulfuric fumes that covered this land.

As he stepped onto the charred earth, the little dragon thing had hopped over to him, ushering out a sort of cackling roar. It was more like a snake-skinned dog than a dragon, playfully pouncing up and harmlessly yipping back. Storm had half the mind to boot the thing, but he had already dug himself in deep enough. Witchblade stood not far off, taunting with her buxom frame and patronizing words.

”Haide?” What the hell? I always thought there was a second “A” in there. I have to stop smoking the cheap stuff.

His grin was wicked as he eyed her. She was enchanting. He was much more inclined to take her to a hotel room than try to kill her here in this hellish place, but knew her better than that. Even if he was tall, handsome, and a hell of a charmer, it wasn’t her way. He wasn’t sure what the hell she was, but it wasn’t human… some sort of offshoot.

“Hello, sugar. Haven’t seen you or dragonpup in quite some time.” He wouldn’t address his vile act upon the innocent bystander still pinned under the outhouse. Witchblade knew what he was trying there, and also coincidentally likely cared little more about the woman trapped than Storm did. There were bigger fish to fry today.

“I’ve been given the unfortunate requisition of having to fight you, my dear. I’m sure you got the same cheap form letter from the Corone Committee.”

In truth, he supposed it was likely she had received it, but it didn’t matter. These were petty trivialities, the bullshit niceties that he had to play before a fight. The little banter would stem back her vitriol, hopefully putting his attempted assassination further from the front of her mind. He had been caught red handed, and every second stalled was a second longer to live without a scratch.

“But with you here, I think we might as well just work this out. You seem like a reasonable enough… “ ((Woman? Person? Witch-thing? What the f*ck do I call her?)) “…individual.

“I want to sail back to Radasanth, raise my flag… all that happy horseshit. You know the deal. You get to stay here, kick your feet up, and enjoy the luxuries of five hundred extra gold pieces.”

His smile hid any sarcasm or hint of condescension that he harbored. He ran his fingers through the coal black hair, slicking it back and pulling it away from his face. He wanted her to see his eyes, to feel for him. He would catch more flies with honey, anyway.

As the heat began to redden his face, and the earth continued to smoke and gurgle, he couldn’t help but giggle at the incessant pounding sounds of the pitiful bitch still stuck in the shit shack behind him. As he gazed up at Witchblade, his smile flickered as the little dragon hopped by his feet. He put his hands behind his back, wrapping his right hand around the wrapped string which held his coin purse.

Conveniently enough, his left hand wrapped around the kriss dagger mounted inauspiciously above his left buttock. This girl wasn’t that predictable, after all.

[Witchblade]

Oh he knew. It was obvious. He was avoiding the Demon trapped in the shack and wasn’t even bringing up why he happened to be wandering through Haide. After all, she knew he didn’t exactly like Haide and she knew he didn’t exactly like the company it kept either. Storm was trying to make her forget about it, about the attempted assassination but the bangs and cries of the pissed of woman made it hard for Witch to push past it. Not to mention things like that just tended to stay with her, especially considering how she’d saved the human before. No good deed goes unpunished. It appears that only the evil deeds in this world went without much notice.

Keeping a careful eye on the human, Witch continued to listen to his banter. He was trying to buy her out from the battle. He was actually offering her 500 gold in order not to fight him. The smirk faded from her face, replaced by disdain and disappointment. Of all the people she had expected Storm to put up a good fight. She had hoped he would be stronger than most humans and would actually pose some kind of challenge. Instead he was actually trying to buy her out. The small amount of respect he had earned from her in Haide died a quick death in the recesses of her mind. Certainly one much faster than the death she now planned for him. It was insulting to say the least that he would even consider such an option, that he would even think she would take it. He truly knew very little to nothing about her. But if that’s how he wanted to play it then so be it.

The small dragon at Storm’s feet suddenly changed his demeanour as the human reached behind him. The constant purr issuing forth turned into a deep-throated growl that promised much more pain than his little body could give.

“Daegun, away.”

The dragon paused for a moment, baring small, sharp teeth at Storm before he reluctantly backed away from the human.

Slowly walking closer to Storm in a way that some men would have called seductive, Witch continued to mull over his proposal. The long stream of curse words that flowed from the wooden shack was distracting though and beginning to grate on her nerves. There was only so much the halfling could take. Raising her hand, she snapped her fingers and watched as a floating sphere of blue flames appeared just above her palm. The heat from it comforting against her flesh. With the slightest movement of her hand, the sphere shot towards the shack, impacting upon the side of it. The dry wood caught and the blue flames quickly lost their enchantment, becoming the normal red they should be. The angry cries of the woman inside turned to screams of terror as the fire began to spread. The brown of the wood quickly becoming a scorched black to match the earth it was resting upon and Witch could imagine that the small space was beginning to fill with smoke right about now. She’d probably die long before the flames ever touched her.

“Much better…now where were we?” She shifted her crimson eyes back to Storm, “Ahh, yes…your proposition.”

The smirk was back on her face as her ears filled with the screams and coughs of the Demon. It was so comforting to hear the cries of death. Turning her attention back to Storm, the halfling continued her walk, beginning to circle him. Though not surprising he kept shifting his position so she couldn’t see his back. She didn’t blame him. She didn’t trust people at her back either.

“You disappoint me, Storm. Here I thought you better than most humans, perhaps even respectable. I could have ignored the fact that you tried to kill me, after all it’s in the nature of your race to fear things. But paying me not to battle…that’s a new low even for you.”

She took a few steps closer to him, almost closing the gap that lay between them. “Shame… I had been looking forward to fighting you.” She held her hand out.

When he produced the purse for her, Witch acted quickly. Moving closer to him, she hooked one foot around the back of his knee and pulled back as fast as she could, hoping to send him flying on his ass. Reaching behind her, she pulled one of her twin daggers from its sheath and thrust the blade towards his exposed stomach. He didn’t deserve a fighting chance. Not after he tried to buy her out, not after he’d lowered her to human standards by thinking she’d actually accept.



((Bunnying approved.))

[Storm Veritas]

The flash of fire behind him startled him, and the relaxation that came with knowledge that her fireball didn’t head for him was quickly replaced with an overwhelming, terrible wave of nausea. The scent of human waste was roses next to burning flesh, and quickly he longed for that luscious sewer aroma. Gazing up, the face of his enemy barely twitched, the casual dismissal of life little more than twisting a foot over the top of a bug.

Yeah, you’re a cold bitch. Read that one right.

Inconsistency is the most difficult thing to understand in a person. Not for a second did he believe she would kill the innocent woman in the shed and then accept the chance to avoid a fight. As a result, from the second that she produced her hand, accepting the bribe, he was tentative. Witchblade, he figured, would react irrationally. She was one of the truly bad ones, far worse than he, and she relished killing. His trust certainly didn’t linger long enough to keep his weight off his heels. He kept his eyes on her waist as she motioned for it, attentive to any quick twitch or fast motion.

And then it came, and he rolled with it. The swinging sweep motion was fast – scary fast – and still caught his heel as he kicked up his feet. There was no reason to resist it, no reason to strike back. He simply fell back, rolling backwards, joyously oblivious to the dagger screaming above his felled frame and creating a safe distance from the aggressor. He was bumped a bit, his head felt impact, but it was nothing serious. More of a concern was the flaming shit he rolled into – the fast stamping of the flames left his hands singed, tender, and disgusting.

A quick flash of a toothy smile. She was dangerous, but he was vastly underestimated himself. There would be no more negotiation, no more smooth talking. She had avoided the silver tongue, and opted instead for the sparkling fingers.

She would pay for the overconfidence.

“OK, whore, so much for chivalry.” His voice was barely a whisper, and he stood from his crouch, batting away the fecal flames. Two long strides took him out and away from the general muck, moving in a direction as to circle the sultry killer.

The dagger stayed in its sheath, resting easily. He’d be better off without it anyway. He was faster now, not limited, not bound by normal confines of the rudimentary rubes on Radasanth. He hadn’t become a legend by accident.

Make it quick. Don’t take chances.

Creativity, he figured, was often overrated. There was no need for a clever attack when raw power and speed couldn’t be matched. He raised his hands, snapping his wrists back, as blue orbs of gorged energy pulsed from his palms. The familiar sizzle-crack sound of the lightning was loud, booming across the desolate plains, where the cries of terror from the outhouse had been replaced by the crackling sounds of fast-consuming fire.

The white-blue juice poured out with fire and life from him. He hoped it would hit her fast, and he’d be able to leave this god-forsaken place before the demons remembered his name.

[Witchblade]

His swift motion to avoid the blade of her dagger put the smile back on her face. If she had killed him so easily he would have disappointed her once again. Perhaps all was not lost though. Insulted she may be by his offering, he could still prove to be a worthy match for her skills, or perhaps he could even beat her back. Few were the people that were able to overcome her in battle and those that did she never forgot. Just like she’d never forget that cat boy who had recently beaten her in The Citadel. A lucky shot. She had played that entire battle wrong and had paid for it at the end when his teeth had ripped into her neck. She would get her revenge upon him though, but she had all the time in the world to enact it. And when she did the walls of The Citadel would no longer be there to protect him. His death would be a final death. There would be no coming back from the void.

Yet that was neither here nor there. That was not something she should be worrying or thinking about at the moment.

Drawing her mind away from the memories was the sight of Veritas batting away flaming human waste. And here she thought the human had run out of ways to amuse her. The words that followed were far from amusing though. They were followed by a deep growl from the depths of her throat. No one called her whore. The halfling narrowed her eyes on the human as she watched him right himself. The air around him felt charged with energy and soon his fingertips were crackling with the lightning he was so famous for. She barely flinched. The smile had faded with his words, replaced by the familiar cold mask she adorned so often. In her long life no one had ever dared call her such a thing. And she didn’t plan on letting the one person who had live long enough to tell of it.

The sparking orbs flew from the tips of his fingers in her direction. Witch acted quickly knowing that if she didn’t play her cards right she’d feel his electric touch sometime today and that would be deadly even to her. She crouched down low to the ground, the sensitive skin of her palm scrapping upon the hardened earth of Haide. Using her telekinesis she nudged the orbs just enough to throw them off their trajectory. Just enough so they went whizzing harmlessly by her, impacting their magic upon the scorched earth instead of her. There was no finesse involved, she didn’t need it and she didn’t wish to experiment with it. Her telekinesis was not the most refined of her skills and she could have just as easily sent those orbs spiralling towards her, but they hadn’t. They had left a small mark upon her though. Her sensitive eyes were left seeing spots from their bright light and her ears were filled with the sound of their sizzle crack. It was something she could ignore.

Tensing her legs, the halfling shot from her crouching position towards Storm. There was only feet separating the two of them and she crossed it in seconds. Her dagger no longer rested in her hand; instead it had found it’s way into the sheath upon her back. As she stood from her crouched position her fingers had wrapped around the familiar and worn leather covering the handles of her sais and she’d easily plucked them from their resting place on her legs. They did not look so menacing, not as much as the blade of a dagger but in the right hands they could be deadly.

She crossed the short distance between them in seconds. But she knew he’d be expecting a counter from her if his attack didn’t go through. It was logical. It was strategic. It was the way a human thought. The halfling came in with a quick diagonal slash across his chest. She followed it with a vertical slash aimed for his stomach, all in one fluid motion. But they were both just a distraction for the move she really wanted to connect. While he would be fending off those attacks, her other hand came in. The prongs of her sai pointed towards the hopefully explosed flesh of Storm's stomach.

No one called her a whore and got away with it.



((Edited, be sure to reread.))

[Storm Veritas]

She was fast, but he was faster. He wasn’t stunned to see her duck the thunder, as his electric prowess was a very poorly kept secret. It was a point of pride, in fact, and it had often made for quick, painless battles. He adored hitting someone hard, sending them reeling, and then just cleaning up the smoldering mess with a single slash of metal. Today, naturally, would be different.

She came back at him with a slashing attack, something not predictable and unique, but altogether wildly effective. He was backpedaling as she struck, watching a V-shaped slash miss openly before him. It was sad, he figured, as the two-shot combos rarely found home. He was better than that, and grabbed his dagger with a right hand, ready to show her how outclassed she really was.

Now, WHORE, you’ll know your place.

It was at this precise moment that he felt the strike he never saw. His eyes were fixed on hers now, staring deeply, almost through her. He was ready to kill, and hadn’t imagined a third assault. Cold steel found its way into him, boring a hole under his ribs and ravaging everything in its way. Flesh, meaty and thick, parted ways like a warm knife passing through butter.

His eyes went wide with disbelief. From here he was standing nearly dead, and panic gripped his chest like an icy hand. Whatever he had lost in the strike would be devastating, and he had barely put up a fight. The only thing that came to his mind was simple and savage, self preservation lighting the path, far ahead of logic.

How…?

He stepped back, pulling out of the sai’s grip and feeling the pain grow larger and hotter at his ribs. His left hand tucked hard to protect his weakened side, his right hand glowing white with electric fury. She had hurt him badly, unlocking the full force of his rage. She would pay. She would have to pay. Only one thought came to mind, to distract her from her own logical bearings.

”YOU WHORE!!!”

The ensuing maneuver was stupid and risky, but necessity was the mother of invention. A single bound forward, his left leg extended before him like a wrestler’s big booted kick. Above his right shoulder, the stiletto was cocked, ready to hammer home. Regardless of the success of his kick, that blade would come tearing down. His target was her collarbone, a place where a blade could drive deep and devastate.

His time was fleeting, and he was falling fast, but he would not go softly into the night.

[Witchblade]

She felt it coat her fingers just as the smell began to tantalize her senses. It was so familiar and reminded her of many other times, memories long since blurred and nearly forgotten. She had spilled his blood; her weapon was buried between his ribs. The single prong had penetrated deep into flesh, muscle and possibly even organ. She couldn’t be certain, but she could see the look on his face. The confidence that had been a fleeting emotion, replaced by disbelief and followed by a thick dosage of anger. She’d seen looks like that before.

As he stepped away from her, she spun the pronged weapon around in her fingers, the thick red liquid flying off and splattering the ground and even her clothes. She cared not. The smell of his blood was a sweet fragrance to her nose and she wanted to spill more of it. Just a taste was not enough; she had to watch as more of it fell upon the scorched earth of Haide. The dirt shall feed upon the dirt and drink up its fill though never shall it be satisfied.

He screamed insulting words upon her once again.

His anger had risen to the point of breaking.

As his leg rose to knock her back she quickly stepped off to the side. The move was slow, it was the lumbering attack of a man who was getting desperate and beginning to show it. A child could have avoided such a thing and still had time to attack back. And that was precisely what she’d planned on doing, attacking him right back. A few more pieces of metal digging into his skin and he would no longer be breathing let alone standing. That was what she’d planned anyway, in the second she’d had as his booted foot passed by her side, but things did not always go as planned. She turned towards him just as his hand was coming down upon her.

She saw it too late but instinct still kicked in to defend herself. No time to pushed the attack off to the side, no chance to knock it off. The soles of her boots dug into the hard earth of Haide as she tried to move back away from the dagger. It did her some good, his intended target was missed but he still cut into her. Cold metal met equally cold skin. The blade sliced into her breastbone and down her chest, cutting along the vee of her cleavage and slicing through the strings that held her shirt together. Dark, blue blood flowed thick through the open gash, staining across her pale skin and her leather top. Her breasts were practically falling out of her top, but they were also soaked in her blood.

The pain followed a few seconds later. It always takes the mind longer to comprehend what has just happened then the actions the body takes. She could feel it building like something hot just under the skin and her teeth clenched tightly together. Adrenaline kept her from feeling the true intensity but it still hurt. She’d never been injured there before and found the area especially sensitive. She was in fact quite sure that his blade had nicked her breastbone.

Stepping back from Storm, the halfling raised a hand and ran her fingers across the wound. The cut was clean but the gash was deep and she was bleeding. Her healing abilities would take care of it she knew, they would stop the bleeding first and then work on repairing the tissue. But that was going to take time.

Growling, Witch launched herself towards Storm. Instead of attacking him with her sais though, she stomped her foot down on the ground just as she reached him. From the toe of her boot emerged a steel blade. With a quick motion she attempted to dig the blade into the side of his knee.

[Storm Veritas]

The sweet, satisfying feeling of torn flesh washed over him in an awesome wave. Cleaving through the cleavage of that awful bitch brought a sinister smile to his face. He had wiped the smug smile from her face, that terrible condescension that he so detested. In truth, he couldn’t stand this contemptible pig of a woman, with her arrogant swagger. She had always held herself in the highest regard, and the pain on her face brought him great joy.

She moved back at him, her attack swift and her vengeance terrible. She landed sharply before him, something that brought his hands back up before his chest in defensive posture. Those sai would not cleanly cut him to ribbons again, and he was ready for them. His counterstrike was predisposed, a single upwards thrust under the chin. For a fleeting instant, he fantasized about ramming his knife through the soft palate and tongue of this vile thing. It was a wonderful moment, but left him with a resounding crunch.

Her leg whipped around in a blur, a soft snikt sound whispering to him as it moved. The crunching sound that echoed called from his knee as a blade, hidden in the sole of her boot, slid violently between bones. There was an instant of fear before the pain set in, an instant of realization that he had probably walked his last.

Oh my god, no… No, no, no, no, no….

The pain that hit him was paralyzing, but as he hopped back the pain was pulled aside in lieu of adrenaline. His eyes were pure rage, and he hopped on one foot in a dizzy, discombobulated fury. More upsetting was the trip, where his own shoe caught itself in a mixture of that same terrible stench of fire, flesh and shit, sending him tumbling to his back.

Keep going. End it now. End it while you can.

He sat up, his head light and vision blurred. The pain was pulling him away, sending shockwaves all over his body. He looked at his hands quickly, trying to keep his eyes away from the terrible knee injury. If he looked at the blade still wrenched in his bone, it would simply be too much to bear. He would not continue with her so close. The whore stood just ten feet from him, lingering, waiting, smiling. She was ready to finish him. His great history, ended so quickly, so savagely. He was near powerless to stop her.

One flaming piece of kindling lay by his right hand, a last ditch plan if he had seen one. A futile thing, to throw it in the air. He knew it would sail up harmlessly over her head. Simply, however, the kindling was a distraction, for the direct follow up was one last powerful blast of energy from his left hand. It pulsed hard and fast, a vicious white wave of lightning that jolted at her, sucking from him the remnants of his magical essence.

His eyes were wide with desperation as he fired, knowing this would be his deathbed were the assault to fail.

[Ther]

Witchblade

Story
Continuity - 4
Setting - 4
Pacing - 5
Writing Style
Mechanics - 7
Technique - 5
Clarity - 8
Character
Dialogue - 5
Action - 5
Persona - 5
Misc.
Wild Card - 3

Total – 51

Storm Veritas

Story
Continuity - 4
Setting - 4
Pacing - 6
Writing Style
Mechanics - 6
Technique - 5
Clarity - 8
Character
Dialogue - 5
Action - 6
Persona - 6
Misc.
Wild Card - 3

Total – 53

Storm wins and gets half EXP/GP of a normal battle.

[Ther]

Storm gets 1,375 EXP and 50 GP.
Witchblade gets 413 EXP and 25 GP.