"Raylin..." Arlon turns towards his cousin, a cautionary tone in his voice. "This is a bad matchup for you, cousin. The moment he gets within a sword's reach of you..."
"Then I'll just have to make sure he doesn't manage it, now shan't I?" The Marksman gives his cousin a cocky grin, although it's hard to hide the genuine concern that he may have overstepped his ability to back up his words. Deylia steps up to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, about to say something, although she rethinks it and directs a question towards the boss instead.
"You asked for a one-on-one, but would it be acceptable for me to boost his abilities before the fight?"
Trush nods, hardly needing to consider it. "If you raise a hand during the fight itself, consider the challenge violated, but before hand? Give him boosts, blessings, enchanted equipment, potions, whatever you like. I'll be flattered you think I require it!"
"Very well." Returning her attention to Raylin, Deylia focuses a spell through the palm resting on his shoulder. "I grant you the Maid's Blessing of Reflexes. May it keep you out of harm's reach."
The man gives the Maid a warmer smile, thankful for the attention. "My thanks, Deylia! Soon I'll be showing you my thanks properly, perhaps..."
Sansie rolls her eyes. "Keep your mind - and other body parts - focused on winning the fight first, why don't you?"
"Very well!" Raylin steps away from the crowd - although not any closer towards the Rabbit Knight - and readies his bow. "Are you ready for our match, Sir Rabbit?"
Trush snorts. "Pfft, of course! I'll even allow you the opening shot!"
"Well, I won't say no to that." The nobleman goes silent then, focusing all of his attentions on Trush's form. His muscles clench as he prepares to fire, but alongside that action comes an unspoken spell - Wide Shot, to fire off a volley of eight magical arrows that will cover any direction the monster chooses to dodge to. Ensuring that no squires are in the line of fire, the Noble Marksman raises his bow and with a single quick, enhanced motion, his one mundane arrow and eight magical, glowing copies shoot through the air. Right or left, there's no direction where Trush doesn't risk taking a hit from one of the finest bows House Perlin could acquire.
As Trush leaps into the air, soaring over the entire volley, a single thought has time to pass through Raylin's head.
I am such a fool.
He's well-trained however, and he doesn't need to consciously think in order to react. Another arrow is in the air before Trush even lands, although without any special boosts the Knight is able to easily deflect it with his shield. When the Knight hits the ground, now fifteen feet away, Raylin takes the time to charge another spell into his weapon. Shrapnel Arrow causes his next shot to explode almost as soon as it takes into the air, filling the space with fragments of both steel and magical energy. At this range, even a rabbit's leap wouldn't be enough to to get Trush out of its area of effect.
And Trush doesn't even try. To Raylin's shock the man simply charges into the blast, ignoring the magical fragments that penetrate his armor, sinking into his flesh. Of course! Win or lose, the man will be restored to full health in an hour's time! Why would he fear anything but a lethal strike? Trush is eight feet away when Raylin abandons his bow, drawing his sword. It's certainly not his ideal weapon, but with a focus on his speed, he can perhaps wear the Knight down until he can dash in for a finishing blow.
When Trush does make it into sword range, Raylin's still-shocked mind realizes that the rabbit is nearly as fast as he is, even with Deylia's boost. He steps back, lightly parrying Trush's blows, but any time he manages to get out of range the rabbit monster simply leaps forward just enough to close the distance once more. Even a thrown dagger barely distracts his pursuer for more than a fraction of a second, and as the fight continues Raylin realizes that time is not on his side. A magical glint coats the edge of Trush's blade, and every time their weapons meet the nobleman realizes his sword is getting a little more chipped, a little more fragile. It's only an emergency weapon, after all, of fine make but not even enchanted.
His hope finally fades as he raises his blade to block an overhead blow, and the weapon shatters entirely. A fierce pain shoots up his arm, and with a shock Raylin realizes it's not just from fragments of steel - Trush's weapon continued its way right through his hilt and into his hand, bisecting it all the way down to the wrist. Even if he survives, he'll lose the limb to amputation without immediate healing, and -
"No! Restoration of Body!" Deylia cries out from the sidelines, casting a spell, and Raylin watches his ruined flesh begin to knit back together. What truly saves him from an immediate death however is the fact that Trush has to turn and growl at the woman.
"No interfering in the challenge, girl! Do that again, and my squires will turn you into a pincushion where you stand!" When he turns back he sees that Raylin's already somewhat recovered, his hunting knife in his good hand...but the fight is effectively already over. The noble is a little quicker on his feet, now that he's lost his primary weapons, but all of his speed does him no good when he needs to close into knife range against a man with a sword and shield.
He does at least make the attempt, but every third attack rewards him with only another glancing wound upon an arm or leg, with no results to show for it. His speed begins to fade as well, magically enhanced or not, and eventually a poor swing results in his last weapon being knocked from his hand by a blow from Trush's shield. His strength finally gone, Raylin collapses to one knee in front of the knight. "...Seems...seems I underestimated you, Sharptongue."
"A common failing of nobility, I'm afraid. I honor you for your bravery in this duel, however. May your soul be remembered in glory!" Trush lifts his sword into the air, and as he swings it down he does so with an orcish warcry. The sound is loud enough that he never hears the spell uttered by the Maid of Health, some distance away.
"Raylin, no! Take me instead! My - My Master's Place!"
In the middle of the battlefield, Trush blinks in confusion. His blow, aimed to decapitate the Marksman, strikes wrongly as his opponent is suddenly several inches shorter. Instead of hitting at the neck it instead slices through the skull just above the eyes, granting him the disturbing sight of his challenger's brain cavity. Except...it's not his opponent at all. As the entire crowd watches in stunned silence, the body of Deylia collapses onto the grass.
Arlon's the one to break the silence first. "Deylia! What - what was that!? A trick?"
Beside him, Sansie responds in a voice that nearly breaks into a sob. "That - I told her! I made her promise never to use that spell! It's...it's one they teach to the supporters of nobility, to...to act as a final bodyguard. Oh, Deylia..."
Trush takes in a deep breath, hardly any more satisfied than the Perlin party. "This...was not what I intended." Turning back towards the nobles - a stunned Raylin included, teleported to where Deylia had once been standing - he fixes them with a stare. "The challenge has been lost. However, a life was wagered and a life was spent, so I will ask nothing more. Furthermore...I am not callous towards the sacrifice of a fellow in arms. If you wish for a reward in her name, I believe we can grant that to you."
Arlon sputters. "A - a reward!? In exchange for Deylia? How could that ever - "
"A shield." Raylin interrupts his cousin, uttering his words with a blank look in his eyes as he stands wavering, needing a moment to match Arlon's gaze. "Deylia...Deylia told me that her, her younger brother...he's in training, an Initiate-level Squire. She...she said he was trying to save up for a better shield."
Sansie freezes at his statement, before eventually nodding. "...Yes. For...for Deylia's family. It's the least we can do."
"A fair request. Worthy?" Trush looks up towards the ceiling, and a moment later a shield begins to spawn before him. It's well-sized for a young squire, and even bears the emblem of House Perlin, copied from the gear the party brought along with them. The Knight lifts it up and brings it over towards the nobles, and Arlon steps forward to accept it. Trying his best to keep a level of calm in his voice, the Noble Vanguard even pays it a compliment.
"Not as fair as my own, but for a Squire? This will be a prized piece of equipment. And - do I sense an enchantment on this item?"
Trush nods. "Aye, that of luck. I recommend not using it within the dungeon, but outside? Worth its weight in gold, I'd wager."
"That it is." Arlon eyes the rabbit squires waiting in a line by the river. "And what now?"
The Knight shakes his head. "My squires and I shall trouble you no further today. If you wish to continue, the boss of the floor awaits you beyond the bridge."
Looking at the body of the fallen Maid and the unfocused look in Raylin's eyes, Arlon quickly shakes his head. "No, no. We...we must see to transporting Deylia's remains back to Grassbrook, and Raylin's other wounds. I think we've lost enough today."
That, Trush can easily agree with. "Aye, lad, I reckon you have."
As the nobles make their way back towards the shortcut portal at the floor's entrance, Deylia's remains carried with them, Xenia's avatar appears next to Trush. "Well...that was a bit of a mess, huh?"
Trush nods in agreement. "A shame, truly. I never much liked the Rainlanders and their noble houses, and I was looking forward to humbling them. But against the man himself! I suppose at least the experience will temper his youthful arrogance somewhat."
"Trauma will do that to a guy, yeah. Nice of them to take her with them instead of just leaving her to us, I know that's a hell of a hike."
The Knight scoffs slightly. "It's not only as a matter of convenience that Challengers often leave their dead behind, you know. It's considered a sign of respect to a dungeon, to let them keep what they've won in fair combat. Nobles, though...well, they must fill those honored family graveyards of theirs. And even if she was but a servant of some sort, she was surely a cousin from some minor house, minor nobility of her own. I can't say she didn't earn herself a monument, though. Whatever the value of the man might be, it's a terrible sort of oath for a servant to uphold."
"That it is." As she senses the party finally vanish through the portal, Xenia turns to find Guy. "So, how'd we make out? Pretty sure I've never seen her class before, it was like she was a Priestess but without an actual religious association going on, or something."
Guy hovers forward, popping up an intrusion report screen. "Something new indeed, ma'am, take a look!"
| ------------------------ NEW CONSTRUCT PATTERN QUALITIES ACQUIRED/UPGRADED: LIMITED ITEMS OBTAINED: KNOWLEDGE OBTAINED: ------------------------ |
Xenia nods along at the list of new classes added to her library, until her eyes snap back up towards a specific name. "Wait. Wait, what - oh. Ah, dammit. What did she say!? 'Take me - '! Gah, dammit!"
The dungeon master curses for a minute or two, stomping around in the grass, before finally turning back towards Trush and Guy. "Well, dudes - this messy day just got a hell of a lot messier."
"Raylin..." Arlon turns towards his cousin, a cautionary tone in his voice. "This is a bad matchup for you, cousin. The moment he gets within a sword's reach of you..."
"Then I'll just have to make sure he doesn't manage it, now shan't I?" The Marksman gives his cousin a cocky grin, although it's hard to hide the genuine concern that he may have overstepped his ability to back up his words. Deylia steps up to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, about to say something, although she rethinks it and directs a question towards the boss instead.
"You asked for a one-on-one, but would it be acceptable for me to boost his abilities before the fight?"
Trush nods, hardly needing to consider it. "If you raise a hand during the fight itself, consider the challenge violated, but before hand? Give him boosts, blessings, enchanted equipment, potions, whatever you like. I'll be flattered you think I require it!"
"Very well." Returning her attention to Raylin, Deylia focuses a spell through the palm resting on his shoulder. "I grant you the Maid's Blessing of Reflexes. May it keep you out of harm's reach."
The man gives the Maid a warmer smile, thankful for the attention. "My thanks, Deylia! Soon I'll be showing you my thanks properly, perhaps..."
Sansie rolls her eyes. "Keep your mind - and other body parts - focused on winning the fight first, why don't you?"
"Very well!" Raylin steps away from the crowd - although not any closer towards the Rabbit Knight - and readies his bow. "Are you ready for our match, Sir Rabbit?"
Trush snorts. "Pfft, of course! I'll even allow you the opening shot!"
"Well, I won't say no to that." The nobleman goes silent then, focusing all of his attentions on Trush's form. His muscles clench as he prepares to fire, but alongside that action comes an unspoken spell - Wide Shot, to fire off a volley of eight magical arrows that will cover any direction the monster chooses to dodge to. Ensuring that no squires are in the line of fire, the Noble Marksman raises his bow and with a single quick, enhanced motion, his one mundane arrow and eight magical, glowing copies shoot through the air. Right or left, there's no direction where Trush doesn't risk taking a hit from one of the finest bows House Perlin could acquire.
As Trush leaps into the air, soaring over the entire volley, a single thought has time to pass through Raylin's head.
I am such a fool.
He's well-trained however, and he doesn't need to consciously think in order to react. Another arrow is in the air before Trush even lands, although without any special boosts the Knight is able to easily deflect it with his shield. When the Knight hits the ground, now fifteen feet away, Raylin takes the time to charge another spell into his weapon. Shrapnel Arrow causes his next shot to explode almost as soon as it takes into the air, filling the space with fragments of both steel and magical energy. At this range, even a rabbit's leap wouldn't be enough to to get Trush out of its area of effect.
And Trush doesn't even try. To Raylin's shock the man simply charges into the blast, ignoring the magical fragments that penetrate his armor, sinking into his flesh. Of course! Win or lose, the man will be restored to full health in an hour's time! Why would he fear anything but a lethal strike? Trush is eight feet away when Raylin abandons his bow, drawing his sword. It's certainly not his ideal weapon, but with a focus on his speed, he can perhaps wear the Knight down until he can dash in for a finishing blow.
When Trush does make it into sword range, Raylin's still-shocked mind realizes that the rabbit is nearly as fast as he is, even with Deylia's boost. He steps back, lightly parrying Trush's blows, but any time he manages to get out of range the rabbit monster simply leaps forward just enough to close the distance once more. Even a thrown dagger barely distracts his pursuer for more than a fraction of a second, and as the fight continues Raylin realizes that time is not on his side. A magical glint coats the edge of Trush's blade, and every time their weapons meet the nobleman realizes his sword is getting a little more chipped, a little more fragile. It's only an emergency weapon, after all, of fine make but not even enchanted.
His hope finally fades as he raises his blade to block an overhead blow, and the weapon shatters entirely. A fierce pain shoots up his arm, and with a shock Raylin realizes it's not just from fragments of steel - Trush's weapon continued its way right through his hilt and into his hand, bisecting it all the way down to the wrist. Even if he survives, he'll lose the limb to amputation without immediate healing, and -
"No! Restoration of Body!" Deylia cries out from the sidelines, casting a spell, and Raylin watches his ruined flesh begin to knit back together. What truly saves him from an immediate death however is the fact that Trush has to turn and growl at the woman.
"No interfering in the challenge, girl! Do that again, and my squires will turn you into a pincushion where you stand!" When he turns back he sees that Raylin's already somewhat recovered, his hunting knife in his good hand...but the fight is effectively already over. The noble is a little quicker on his feet, now that he's lost his primary weapons, but all of his speed does him no good when he needs to close into knife range against a man with a sword and shield.
He does at least make the attempt, but every third attack rewards him with only another glancing wound upon an arm or leg, with no results to show for it. His speed begins to fade as well, magically enhanced or not, and eventually a poor swing results in his last weapon being knocked from his hand by a blow from Trush's shield. His strength finally gone, Raylin collapses to one knee in front of the knight. "...Seems...seems I underestimated you, Sharptongue."
"A common failing of nobility, I'm afraid. I honor you for your bravery in this duel, however. May your soul be remembered in glory!" Trush lifts his sword into the air, and as he swings it down he does so with an orcish warcry. The sound is loud enough that he never hears the spell uttered by the Maid of Health, some distance away.
"Raylin, no! Take me instead! My - My Master's Place!"
In the middle of the battlefield, Trush blinks in confusion. His blow, aimed to decapitate the Marksman, strikes wrongly as his opponent is suddenly several inches shorter. Instead of hitting at the neck it instead slices through the skull just above the eyes, granting him the disturbing sight of his challenger's brain cavity. Except...it's not his opponent at all. As the entire crowd watches in stunned silence, the body of Deylia collapses onto the grass.
Arlon's the one to break the silence first. "Deylia! What - what was that!? A trick?"
Beside him, Sansie responds in a voice that nearly breaks into a sob. "That - I told her! I made her promise never to use that spell! It's...it's one they teach to the supporters of nobility, to...to act as a final bodyguard. Oh, Deylia..."
Trush takes in a deep breath, hardly any more satisfied than the Perlin party. "This...was not what I intended." Turning back towards the nobles - a stunned Raylin included, teleported to where Deylia had once been standing - he fixes them with a stare. "The challenge has been lost. However, a life was wagered and a life was spent, so I will ask nothing more. Furthermore...I am not callous towards the sacrifice of a fellow in arms. If you wish for a reward in her name, I believe we can grant that to you."
Arlon sputters. "A - a reward!? In exchange for Deylia? How could that ever - "
"A shield." Raylin interrupts his cousin, uttering his words with a blank look in his eyes as he stands wavering, needing a moment to match Arlon's gaze. "Deylia...Deylia told me that her, her younger brother...he's in training, an Initiate-level Squire. She...she said he was trying to save up for a better shield."
Sansie freezes at his statement, before eventually nodding. "...Yes. For...for Deylia's family. It's the least we can do."
"A fair request. Worthy?" Trush looks up towards the ceiling, and a moment later a shield begins to spawn before him. It's well-sized for a young squire, and even bears the emblem of House Perlin, copied from the gear the party brought along with them. The Knight lifts it up and brings it over towards the nobles, and Arlon steps forward to accept it. Trying his best to keep a level of calm in his voice, the Noble Vanguard even pays it a compliment.
"Not as fair as my own, but for a Squire? This will be a prized piece of equipment. And - do I sense an enchantment on this item?"
Trush nods. "Aye, that of luck. I recommend not using it within the dungeon, but outside? Worth its weight in gold, I'd wager."
"That it is." Arlon eyes the rabbit squires waiting in a line by the river. "And what now?"
The Knight shakes his head. "My squires and I shall trouble you no further today. If you wish to continue, the boss of the floor awaits you beyond the bridge."
Looking at the body of the fallen Maid and the unfocused look in Raylin's eyes, Arlon quickly shakes his head. "No, no. We...we must see to transporting Deylia's remains back to Grassbrook, and Raylin's other wounds. I think we've lost enough today."
That, Trush can easily agree with. "Aye, lad, I reckon you have."
As the nobles make their way back towards the shortcut portal at the floor's entrance, Deylia's remains carried with them, Xenia's avatar appears next to Trush. "Well...that was a bit of a mess, huh?"
Trush nods in agreement. "A shame, truly. I never much liked the Rainlanders and their noble houses, and I was looking forward to humbling them. But against the man himself! I suppose at least the experience will temper his youthful arrogance somewhat."
"Trauma will do that to a guy, yeah. Nice of them to take her with them instead of just leaving her to us, I know that's a hell of a hike."
The Knight scoffs slightly. "It's not only as a matter of convenience that Challengers often leave their dead behind, you know. It's considered a sign of respect to a dungeon, to let them keep what they've won in fair combat. Nobles, though...well, they must fill those honored family graveyards of theirs. And even if she was but a servant of some sort, she was surely a cousin from some minor house, minor nobility of her own. I can't say she didn't earn herself a monument, though. Whatever the value of the man might be, it's a terrible sort of oath for a servant to uphold."
"That it is." As she senses the party finally vanish through the portal, Xenia turns to find Guy. "So, how'd we make out? Pretty sure I've never seen her class before, it was like she was a Priestess but without an actual religious association going on, or something."
Guy hovers forward, popping up an intrusion report screen. "Something new indeed, ma'am, take a look!"
| ------------------------ NEW CONSTRUCT PATTERN QUALITIES ACQUIRED/UPGRADED: LIMITED ITEMS OBTAINED: KNOWLEDGE OBTAINED: ------------------------ |
Xenia nods along at the list of new classes added to her library, until her eyes snap back up towards a specific name. "Wait. Wait, what - oh. Ah, dammit. What did she say!? 'Take me - '! Gah, dammit!"
The dungeon master curses for a minute or two, stomping around in the grass, before finally turning back towards Trush and Guy. "Well, dudes - this messy day just got a hell of a lot messier."
