The implication within Max's words was that the Gate would remain, and reality, for this rare moment, obeyed: the Gate, a rip in space-time that would send any who entered it hurtling to the intruder's Realm, remained. The slither of chaos and light could still be seen as a magnesium blur far along the beach.

"Sorry, Lord, I didn't .. didn't mean to show any inappropriate behavior," the Shaman stammered, obviously taken aback. "I'll .. shake your hand, next time."

A silence passed; Desafon continued talking.

"It could've been the killer, Lord. It could have been. I haven't seen any proof against it, honestly, and it makes sense. But from what I saw.. it was just a boy. A boy couldn't kill men like that..

"Paper? Oh, yes, we have paper, and ink. The ink we get from the squids caught down by the rocks. The paper, well, it's the finest paper in the land! Made, naturally, from the finest wood.."

He sent a villager off to fetch paper, and the villager soon returned with the heavy, hard, parchment-like material and writing instruments.

     Desafon chuckles lightly to the Shaman, "Please, don't worry. I took no offense, just, as I said, it felt a little awkward. I'm in a good mood other than that... boy that came in and insulted me." He then ponders, "Do you think I'd be honor-bound to answer the duel call of someone who rabbit-hops into a hole as fast or faster than they can issue an insult?" He strokes his chin, "Personally, as much as I figure it sounds insulting, I don't feel the need to avenge my honor. Though, of course, I'm conflicted. What is your opinion?" He asks before he goes to write anything.
     While that is happening, he goes to try and gather five hundred lengths of wood, unless that would make his resources extinct. Or, unless, there was no such amount at the moment that was cut and instead needed to be cut, in which he'll ask the Shaman to have cut (again, unless it would make the island's resources extinct).

"Hmmm. He deserves nothing less than death, Lord, for showing the nerve to insult you and your efforts. And yet.. he might not be worth destroying. It is not worth for me to kill every insect that I see. Perhaps you should just leave him."

Desafon learnt that in the Shaman's Cave they had four-hundred lengths of wood, and a hundred and fifty cut trees that needed to be cut and refined to lengths. This would drain all of the island's stocks, but wouldn't damage their actual resources - the trees still growing - at all.

     Nodding his head, Desafon agrees, "I don't think its even worth it either." He then returns the ink and parchment, before he looks around, "Are there any other problems other than the murders and the storms?" He asks, uncertain.

"Not entirely, my Lord," said the Chief of Storms, "But there is.. well, the people say that there is a weirding spirit in the woods. It usually falls within my purview to deal with such things, on the rare occasions that they arise, but with the death of the Chief of Matters.. I have had to take the roles of bother leader, sorcerer, seer, elder and priest. It is a difficult thing. It does not seem wise to trek to the middle of the island - a solid three day hike - especially when I am needed so direly here, but the people are scared. I do not know what to do."

     Nodding, Desafon smiles, quickly drawing his rapiers and twirling them about before he sheaths them again... only for effect and not aiming at anybody at all (most importantly the Chief/Shaman). "No problem. I will, however, need to use four hundred lengths of wood. Believe me, we will be fine with what all we have. I will look towards the wierding spirit in the woods." He says this, sets a strong pose of a man in charge before he begins to walk off, "In which direction?" He asks, wanting to know which way to set himself. He goes to transport the four hundred lengths of wood first, however, to the Vendor in the Valley Divine.

It takes a small while to fully transport all of the lengths to the warehouses of Desafon's new business partner, but it is done.

"Towards the centre of the island," said the Chief of Storms, pointing to a blasted cliff-face which in turn led to the famed forests of the land. "It dwells in a place called, um, the Oasis. I do not know why. The sailors coined that name.."

He seemed a little nervous. Was he hiding something?

     Looking towards the Chief of Storms, for the first time noticing that he might not realize the importance of Desafon, Desafon begins to move closer to him. "You have been good and faithful so far. Why is it, however, I sense that you are hiding something from me?" He asks, drawing himself up in a way that suggested that he might be somewhat angry. "You know, I came here for a reason. I have come to take this realm under my control and to make things here into a marvelous land of adventure and perfection to look upon. I want you to be in a good position when that happens. However, if I feel I cannot trust a good and loyal servant..."
     He says this before he pats his weapon, "I may be a God, but I am a God of Piracy and Dueling. I put my blades before my powers and believe me, nobody in this village or perhaps even this realm is as capable with a sword as I. You best recall that while I am a merciful and honorable God, so too much the people underneath me be worthy of such honor. A man that shirks from honor and lays more towards lying is dishonorable. And I abhore dishonorable fiends."

The Chief, for the first time Desafon had seen, shrunk with terror.

"It's nothing.. Lord.. I mean.. nothing.."

He seemed ashamed.

"But before you were here.. Lord.. the people of this island.. they worshipped.. something else.."

There were tears in his eyes. He was a loyal servant.

     Finding that they had worshiped another being, Desafon himself begins to show less hostility, calming himself internally. "That... was it? That was what you were holding back?" He asks, before he almost laughs. "Here, I thought you were trying to get rid of me by staging some sort of ambush by more powerful beings." He actually does laugh at that point, "Please, I apologize." He says, going to the Chief and patting him on the back, "Its fine. I understand that you and the people had worshiped someone before I arrived and I accept that. However, as long as you understand that I'm here to stay and that this... Wierding Spirit is going to die a very painful... well, can a spirit die a death?" He asks, uncertain. "I guess I'll find out. There are grand things that will be coming to this realm soon. We will become grander. That, I promise."

"I.." the Chief breathed out. "I am relieved, Lord."

He did not know this, but many Gods would show immense wrath at the 'poaching' of their worshippers, even in the past, and many had taken this anger out on their people; it was an instinctive reluctance, the product of millions of years of divine-mortal relations.

"His name was Laverstus. Before.. before, this island was also called Laverstus. It is said that his hard work and his favour is what made this island great. His breath borne the greatest timber. He has not been worshipped for decades, Lord, but - I have no doubts that he still exists, in one twisted form or another.."

     Desafon, however, will reserve his wrath for the older God as the older God commited Piracy of a sort and being a more honorable man, Desafon seeks to diminish Laverstus's hold now entirely. "What made this Island great is its people. Now, however, Faith in me will increase this island's greatness and when I am done with Laverstus, we will show this world and the outer Realms just how great we are." He says this, looking up in a grand pose before he nods once more. "Its time to take care of some business and remove the competition." He begins to walk off towards the location of Laverstus, "And fear not, I shall return!"

The path was a long one.

He crossed the beach; climbed the small, rocky cliffs; travelled through the open farming fields. Eventually, he came upon the cutting yards, where the trees were being regrown. He stopped at the edge of the mighty woods - the ancient woods. They were older than Desafon himself - older even then the idea of Desafon. The path dwindled a little, but continued into the depths of green..

A man stood silently, watching Desafon approach.

"Stop!" cried the man, as he got closer. "Inside is sacred ground. You may not go further."

The man had long, blond hair, and was dressed in light silk. A cutlass was strapped to his side.

     After such a progress as he was making, Desafon almost decided that there would be nobody there to interrupt or intercept his further movement. However, seeing as there is, Desafon eyes the individual until he realizes there might be some form of a chance that he'll have an interesting duel. "Sacred ground, you say? By whose definition? Would that be Laverstus the Deceiver of my people?" He asks, looking around, "Or would that be yours? Are you a mortal follower of his or are you worthy of my attention?"
    He asks, wanting to be certain before he might need to draw his blade. Of course, any movement that the individual might make towards his cutlass will send Desafon to draw his own rapiers to prepare a parry and a riposte.

"I am Pernassus," said the blonde man, "Guardian of this place. Yes, I am the servant of Laverstus, but I take offence to your claims of deception. He was worshipped by the people of this place long before the Dyahsefahn Cult came to prominence."

He looked at Desafon; came to a decision. His eyes widened only for a moment, a testament to the calm rationale of Pernassus the Blade.

"Ah. Forgive me. You, I think, are Dyahsefahn, are you not?"

His hand did not reach for his blade.

     Desafon raises an eyebrow before he begins to try and understand the man's rationale. "Hmm, it seems to be a dilemma here. Yes, I am Desafon... and its said as 'Dess-uh-fun'," he doesn't say it like he was trying to insult the man, but rather more informative. "And yes, I recognize that the worship was long before my arrival. However, I have not held the people accountable for what they worshiped in the past. I am told that Laverstus is in this general location and that he is disturbing my people. I often don't come to insult gentlemen, but as I wish to advance these people, this realm and advance myself as well to higher standards."
     "I must find some way for either Laverstus and I to co-exist without displacing either of us and allowing for me to represent myself and this realm to the God world beyond, or I will have to do as I must to challenge him, even if it means challenging you. Now, I am an honorable man and as such, I will do this to show it," he says, sheathing his blades entirely (I think I had them unsheathed). "What say you, Pernassus? How should we continue this? I am a Master Swordsman or close to it, and I am always itching for a fight, but I will not cause it without due reason but neither am I blood-bound to rage."

"Dessuhfun," said Pernassus, repeating it. "Desafon. I respect your honour in this matter, and I am thankful that you did not just attack me outright. A lesser man would have succumbed to his rage. I am afraid, however, that I've been given orders, from my own Lord, to not allow anyone to pass into these woods. Including - especially - yourself. I apologise for that."

He took out his blade, unsheathed it slowly - but not aggressively.

"I'm afraid, Desafon, that despite my warmth towards you, that if you do not leave we will have to fight. This distresses me, but I am sure you understand my position; I cannot allow you to pass. I, also, understand - as best as one can - your position, and bear you no grudge. You are considered the Lord of Duels in some parts of the world. If I am not beneath you.. shall we?"

     He understand what is being spoken and he nods, "I hold no grudge either and I consider a man of whose morals and honor you have displayed to not be underneath me. The boy who insulted me and ran, he was beneath me. But you? You are not. However, I do wonder, before we strike blades together, what are the terms of victory? I doubt it will be to the first blood, but is death necessary? If I beat you and leave you living, would that be enough?" He does draw his blades, but he doesn't make any surprise attack against the man. He stands straight, wanting to know how they shall proceed at the end of the fight. "Unless we have an alternative to this situation. Will Laverstus come and meet me if I cannot enter his land?"

"I cannot say if the Lord will come see you," said Pernassus. "My role is to guard, not to communicate. I like you, Desafon, and I respect you enough to engage in an honourable duel. Shall we say.. to death or to, perhaps, first concession? Let he who gives up walk away the lesser man. If I fall, I will happily stand aside."

     Nodding, Desafon's blades already drawn, "I agree to these terms and even will be one step more generous. I will allow you the first strike, though of course if I can defend myself against it I shall. I don't mean to say a 'free hit', but rather a first strike." He bows lightly before he waits on the gentleman to move to strike before he attempts to defend himself.

"No, please," said Pernassus. "I insist. You are, of course, only fighting for what is rightfully yours.. and I stand in your way. Please. Strike first."

His blade was out, gleaming in the sun.

     Desafon has to admit, he feels very good about this individual and should there be no death, he might have a place for this man. "Then we shall begin, Pernassus." He says this, steadying himself before he lunges forward with one rapier, moving to strike at the man's blade before he goes to strike it at the other end with a thrust from the other rapier, attempting a Pincer maneuver against the blade Pernassus carries.

Pernassus's blade is swift, a silver blur that parries both strikes and then slashes conservatively towards Desafon's sword-arm.

     Desafon realizes that this man is good. Realizing this, Desafon envokes his Flurry of the Duel power to attempt to parry the attack and riposte with his own against the man's blades. "You are very highly skilled, Pernassus. I am indeed just as highly impressed and think this will be a wonderful duel." If this doesn't work, then perhaps he'll have to invoke some form of Chance magic.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:21, Tue 13 Oct 2009.

The blade spun left - right - right - and Pernassus's blade shattered under the intensity of it. He was now weaponless.. the Flurry was too powerful.

"Good - impressive," he grunted.