Pit and Des

"There is no need to yell," said the voice from the smoke. Antagonistic, slightly bitter, harsh and yet beautiful, like the primitive blade. "My work here is done. Retribution has been made. Vengeance has been had. Murder.. has been brought to this place."

He was entirely naked, grime and sweat covering his perfectly-chiseled body. Perfectly bald, with a self-assured smile that barely turned into a self-righteous grin, Pitcarn saw the the zealotry caught within his burning eyes, that urge to kill and destroy until there is nothing left. Desafon, meanwhile, noticed the scars adorning most of his body - most of them ritually inflicted, he knew, possibly for mistakes in the past or worthwhile enemies killed; both sides of his torso were lined with them. Both noticed the intricate tattoos lining his entire body, explicit in their adoration to Osiris-Ra.

It would take a fool not to notice the weapon in his hand. Gleaming, bloodied red - though not simply from the death of innocents. It seemed to throb with lust, and Desafon's swords throbbed in response. Desafon knew, suddenly and dreadfully, what his Swords of Efficiency were, and what they may cost him. He felt only disgust. The knife glinted magnificently in what little sunlight made it through the smoke and ash.

"You came to the Holiest of Deserts and destroyed several of my brothers," said Khor the Murderer, calmly. "You wished to destroy us, Conclave dog. And yet.. you could not. Your strength was not enough. Your dedication, your resolve, were lacking. Honour has been met. You cannot defeat me. You cannot defeat the Murder Knife. If it is your wish, I will leave this place, my needs satisfied," he grinned. The three of them knew that this wasn't an option. "Otherwise.. blood will flow and murder will reign supreme."

Pitcarn snarled at Khor, and pulled out his Oathblade.

"You're going to be dead like Metatron."

Oh, yes, he did know what his Blades of Efficiency were. Hungry, being one of the things. No doubt he looked towards the cultist man after he speaks, though Desafon grins. "Murder knife, hmm? My swords are bigger than your blade... and I'm pretty certain we've got similar sword-smiths." His eyes deepen into anger and a passion for the fight. He turns to Pitcarn, "Unless you're wanting to renege on our deal, he's mine." He says, turning his attention from Pitcarn to the naked murderer.

"Generally I don't issue duels to those whom are naked and pitiful examples of fighters, as you had to focus on his civilians and not him. However, as the needs of a fellow God are in necessity and the money is good, my Honor will survive that little..." he emphasizes the word 'little', "mistake. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to put on some clothes before we fight, though I doubt my peer Pitcarn would allow you time to do so." He moves closer, "However, if you have any shred of honor, more so than that blasted coward Mad God I killed, then ready your blade for the culling of the wheat. Desafon, God of Piracy and Duels, has come and has not yet been defeated. I have killed a number of cultists myself, including one efficient in blades, and have not been impressed. Perhaps you will not disappoint me." He says, his blades twirling in his hands.

He's pretty certain the words 'Murder' 'Death' 'Kill' are being whispered or felt by the blades, each an echo of some of his own thoughts, though his are a little more honorable... unless accepting money to duel a killer is dishonorable.

Pitcarn steps back.

"The floor is yours, friend Desafon."

Internally, a semblance of sense is returning to Pitcarn's mind. He is processing th erage, and beginning to analyse the situation tactically.

Desafon and Pitcarn and KHOR THE BLOODIED

Clash!

"Let us duel, then, Champion of Cowards," said Khor to Desafon's challenge. "I need neither clothes nor armour to defeat you."

Khor threw himself at Desafon, the ritual Murder Knife held in his left hand. He was fast - faster than any opponent Desafon had ever fought - and before Desafon knew it his Blades of Efficiency had deflected the blow, and two more, and then riposted seemingly of their own command. Steel met steel, and the clang and screams of both were terrible to hear. Khor was deeply powerful - his blows had incredibly force behind them - and his movements were graceful.

His tattoos seemed to change and dance as Khor moved - giving one the idea that they were, in fact, living.

Desafon grins at the combat scene that presents itself. No doubt he had felt himself somewhat faster in this combat than others. He attempts to look surprised, and perhaps isn't acting, but attempts to get ready to throw a feint to his enemy before activating his Flurry of the Duel power to try and get an upper hand, "I am not your champion, Cultist!" His blades, hopefully, get the feeling and sensation that he does. In fact, Desafon actually seems to be somewhat more... angry than his normal self, but rather the self that pits the rage. "Ye in fact might wish I was, curr!!"

Desafon and Pitcarn vs. Khor

They step forward and back, shining silver and bloodied red shimmering in the glow of the flames. Pitcarn saw that at this point they were both much faster and more skilled than he himself was - he could just barely follow their combat. Desafon stepped forward, forward, back - parrying and riposting. Khor seemed to hold his own with the much faster Murder Knife, though he had neither the reach nor, it seemed, the immaculate footwork of Desafon. Blades fell, and he ducked or parried. The clashing of steel rang across the flames, and Desafon felt his Blades of Efficiency, ironically enough, be reluctant to land a blow against the Knife of Murder.

Khor grinned as he fought, a madman consumed with the red haze of battle. Desafon felt himself grit his teeth as he flurried madly, the twin Blades swinging left and right, feinting and striking in a hurricane of skill. Khor dodged most of the flurries, deflected two of the blows, and grunting as a third slashed his right arm - a flesh wound. The next strike came hurtling down, threatening to cut his shoulder from his torso, and Khor seemed to tense and caught the blow with his Murder Knife in a ring of steel louder than all that had come before -

The Blade of Efficiency shattered, throbbing violently and then exploding in a shower of twisted shrapnel. It had been shattered down to the hilt, and Desafon felt three individual, seemingly scalding shards enter his torso and cheek. Khor had been struck with worse - no less that half a dozen pieces of the sword had struck him, cutting his arms, cheek, forehead, torso..

The remaining Blade of Efficiency seemed to dull, to lose focus. It almost seemed disheartened at the loss of its brother. Khor struck at Desafon's belly with the shining knife -

Ruse

Ruse appeared, far above in the clouds. Below he saw acres and acres of wild vinelands, most of the roots fresh with grapes. There were distant figures below, trying as best as they could to pick the grapes. Further ahead he could see a high-walled village - civilization.

Seeing Desafon in trouble, and hoping not to have to take this recourse, Pitcarn brings his diamond rifle up to his shoulder, and awaits a perfect moment for him to shoot a round into Khor's head. He knows that he'll interfere in the duel if he activly particiates, but aiming, while dishonourable, will not disturb the combatants until the trigger is pulled. If the only time he can fire is when the Knife is buried in Desafon, them so be it.

((ooc: By the way, unless Nat tells you otherwise, assume you two and Khor can not sense or detect ruse's presence or divine signature. You will know he's there, of course, but where will be a mystery.))

This was an excellent starting point for Ruse's assault. He had only rarely flexed his powers, but Khor was a SERIOUS threat that could probably stomp individually over either Desafon or Pitcarn. But if they worked together, along with Ruse's tactics, they may be able to take him down.

For now, Ruse flexed his divine sovereignty over the mist, and commanded that a huge swath of the Realm itself be filled completely with it, similar to the Valley of mist itself. The focus of this mist, of course, would be the battlefield where they were fighting Khor.

Desafon and Pitcarn will find, to their amazement, that this mist doesn't hamper their sight or hearing or anything really any more than clear air would (i.e. not at all).

No doubt this didn't go the way Desafon had considered, most especially the loss of the Blade of Efficiency. That he would mourn but he didn't have the time to do so at the moment. However, in his mind, there was one main advantage that he had that he didn't think the Mad Murderer did. Desafon attempted to step into the blade early, to surprise the cultist, though he doesn't look to try and get struck in the stomach by the blade, but attempts to give a less vital blow to the enemy for the sake of trying to pierce his own remaining blade somewhere vital.

.oO(Damn it, blade, did I get the coward blade or the Efficiency blade? Honor him!!!)
This message was last edited by the player at 02:35, Fri 24 Sept 2010.

Desafon and Pitcarn vs. Khor

Pitcarn swings his gun towards Khor, and grits his teeth unconsciously as he keeps the Cultist in his sight.

Suddenly, as if by magic - but, of course, Pitcarn and Desafon knew better - the ground beneath them belched up massive amounts of heavy mist. To their shock, however, it did not hamper their sight at all - Pitcarn could at once feel his vision obscured and exist perfectly clear, though the automatic scope of the diamond rifle suffered - his enemy was occulted through the glass by the mist. Ruse was involved, of course, targeting him and Desafon personally..

Desafon dashed into the path of the Murder Knife, and grimaced in horrific pain - unlike any torment he had so far experienced in this existence - as the knife cut cleanly through his stomach. Even as he felt his guts wobble slightly, though, his right elbow connected brutally with Khor's nose and the Cultist was thrown back, even as he still held the knife. Half of a second slice ripped across Desafon's torso - though nowhere near as deep as the first slash across his belly - but Desafon was prepared for this contingency, and as blood fell from Khor's nose across the path of the remaining Blade of Efficiency he felt his left hand throw itself up suddenly. There was a sudden roar of agony, and Khor tumbled back further, clutching the stump that had been his right hand.

A clank across dirt, where the Murder Knife and Khor's hand had fell. The ground was christened with the blackened blood of the God of Murder. The Cultist was two meters or so away from the Lord of Pirates, with Pitcarn out of the fray entirely, and while Desafon felt a rush of pleasure at the cut it was countered by the searing pain. Something red and slimy had fallen out from his stomach, followed by a rush of bright ed blood - half of an organ of some sort. Hopefully not an important one.

Ruse

Ruse feels his will be imposed on the place, and has the pleasure of seeing swathes of heavy supernatural mist swarm about the combatants. It takes a little bit of effort from him - the specifics of the mist, the large area it contains, and so forth - but ultimately it was effort Ruse could more than spare.

((Desa, it's less that you have the blade of cowardice and more that Khor > the blade of efficiency, and it knows it, lol. However, good thing for you that your total potency has many more factors than just your weapons. ^_^ I am going to be counting on that fact to buy me time to try stuff to help take him down.))

The mists swirl around whimsically, with the beautiful, sensuous arrogance of their progenitor. For now, they "merely" are acting as a thick and dense veil to help conceal Pitcarn and Desafon from the lord of murder.

The mist appeared to be not doing much, anyway.

(Love the plan, Ruse, but I'll wait to resolve your action until Desafon and Pitcarn realise that the game's back on/act. I'll give them a few days. Sorry for the hold up.)

(( *cries!* Pit, Desa! Hurry up and post here! ))

Desafon, feeling himself victorious... of a sort, is almost excited enough to cheer aloud before he realizes that things are falling out of his body that aught not. Were he a God of Rage, no doubt he could merely try and shrug it off. But no, he wasn't and he had no such contingency for when his body would begin to come apart. The best he can do, however, is try and grab the Murder Knife and Khor's hand, then attempt to toss it to Pitcarn in order to keep it away from Khor. He tries to keep himself together, hoping that through his usage of his Luck Magic, he can keep from passing out and/or dying just yet, providing him just enough time to try and see if this S.U.I.T. has any form of healing ability. He whispers to it, "Suit, if you have any ability to heal me, now might be a good time."

Desafon and Ruse and Pitcarn versus Khor

Ruse concentrated on the plan at hand. A lot of his energy and focus was directed towards this scheme..

The mists billowed and danced about the combatants, at once thin and incredibly thick. None of the combatants could see the sun, and except for the cackling of the fires and the smell of burning smoke they wouldn't know they were within the devastated village..

The mist seemed to shift, a little, as if its attention were centered elsewhere.

Desafon felt what little innate Luck magic he had flow through him, lending him confidence and breath to fight on. Even as he stepped forward, however, he wobbled, feeling the tension shift within his gut. He stumbled, fell to the ground, picked himself up.. he closed his eyes, and their was a screeching in his head, copper-bile on his tongue..

Friend Desafon, your vital readings are at a critical point. You have an estimated 03m.45s counting to live..
Synthesizing and injecting hyper-adrenaline..

Khor had stopped screaming, and had picked himself up from the ground. He grinned, softly, as he stared at Desafon dying on the ground. The stump that used to be his hand still bled freely from the amputation Desafon had dealt him, but in his left hand Desafon saw the Murder Knife and felt fear..


Complete -

Suddenly, Desafon felt a surge of energy flow throughout his body. The pain was dampened, deadened - but not entirely gone - and he felt electric tension coil within his legs and arms. His heart beated strongly, quickly, and the world seemed to spin about him and then come into sudden focus -

Maybe he was hallucinating. He had lost a lot of blood -

Khor had the Murder Knife in one hand, and was cackling to himself, but it was shallow and see-through. There was another Murder Knife, half a meter's reach from Desafon, material and solid. An illusion? What..?

Activating coagulation protocols..
Synthesizing macro-Calcium, macro-V. K..
Synthesizing concreglue..
Complete.

There was an tightening in Desafon's stomach, and he felt the wound slowly begin to artificially bind..

"Do not think to run," said Khor, mockingly. "You cannot hope to escape me. Your fat friend with the gun - he, too, is usually. Does he not know that I have transcended blasphemous weaponry? I am better than bullets. You cannot defeat me."

Two..

You are still at a critical state, Friend Desafon. You will survive if given proper rest, but SUIT believes you to still be in a combat situation, and muscle exhaustion has set in prematurely due to the coagulation protocols and the hyper-adrenaline.

Would you like to activate JACKING PROTOCOLS?

Ruse devoted much of his focus and energy to this plan - something even many gods would be hard-pressed to implement. But Ruse was not many gods, no...Ruse was Ruse and Ruse alone.

The mists shifted subtly, although did not do anything apparent against Khor besides provide Pit and Desafon with some much-needed cover.

The mists twisted slightly around the "other" murder knife - at least, if anyone was able to notice it. If Desafon or Pit approached the "other" knife, they would find the mists would congeal around it and obscure it even from their view. As if the it was telling them to focus on Khor and leave it alone. To ignore it. To act as if it did not exist, and not be obvious about it. The mist would even cut their grasping hands with small little papercuts as a warning if they didn't get the hint, but otherwise, the mist remained harmless to them.

Desafon knew he was in much pain. He knew that he was dying. He knew a great many things of this type. The best he could do was nod his head, "Yes. Activate Jacking Protocols." Past that, the last thing he could hear himself do was make a hmming noise, perhaps like primitive warriors would while participating in their last conflict in their life before they died a valiant death. He felt no need to reply to Khor, nor any need to grab at the Murder knife. He still had his blade on him. He knew he couldn't rest and knew that he may not be able to kill Khor at all, nor possibly could Pitcarn kill him.

He knew he was not going to be able to do much and though he was in conflict, he decided to back off a little bit, trying to buy himself time. He readied his blade for defense in case Khor came at him, preparing to give his best to fight Khor, his eyes training on Khor himself, but his mind focusing on trying to remove the other hand if Khor charges forward, which Khor may or may not realize is his target. His thoughts, though, are coming less and less clearer.

Not hearing Khor's taunts to Desafon and seeinging only that the god was advancing on his woulded ally, Pitcarn sent a hail of bullets, targeting by eye, towards Khor's hand, the one that still held the Murder Knife

What the hell is going on?! Mist everywhere?!

Mists converged and swelled, swirled and danced about the battlefield, mated and mingled with smoke and ash..

Khor ducked and weaved at Pitcarn's fire, but was struck down by several of the bullets, even as many more missed. He picked himself up as fast as he could manage, however, using burning wreckage and Desafon himself as cover. His arms were blooded, and his entire body was steaming in the mist.

Pitcarn saw, with some satisfaction, that Khor did not heal the wounds given to him.

Ruse felt the pressures of weariness descend upon him as he worked to attack the Murder Knife. It was an incredibly powerful item, itself forged with a Forsaken Power, but he was slowly succeeding..

Activating Jacking protocols. Glorious battle, Friend Desafon!

Blinding red light, as bright as magnesium, burst upon Desafon's legs, torso, arms and neck. He felt stronger, faster, more able. There was a blinding pain as the SUIT permanently fused with Desafon's theoelectromagnetic field, and he roared in fury.

It was a duet of angry screams. Khor had fallen, clawing his face, screaming horribly into the mist. He dropped the Murder Knife he was holding, and it clattered against the ground as another, identical knife immediately fell into his hand. He was grinning with rage, now, and through himself towards Desafon, blade in his left hand.

Pitcarn couldn't yet get a clear shot without accidentally wounding Desafon. Ruse felt his grip on the real Murder Knife slip..

As Khor swung wildly at Desafon, the Lord of Pirates felt his right arm rise immediately to meet it. There was a loud ringing, and the two grunted involuntarily. Khor ducked and swung at Desafon's hamstrung..

ooc: Yes, the mists are everywhere. Mea hahaha hack cough wheeze!

Ruse's energy would not hold at this rate. He was surprised he was even able to do this much. However, he no longer had to worry about it because it appeared that the jig was up, given how Khor regained his real knife.

But that simply meant more energy for Ruse. But that was enough to give them an advantage they needed - and allow Ruse to focus on his true objective.


Now was the time to play puppet master for the fight. Ruse had another well of power to draw from. A Well that ran fairly deep, and that yearned for action.

The mists seemed to churn a lot more now, as if they received more energy. This coincided with the other murder knife (the one on the ground) vanishing into thin air. Then suddenly, the mists began to grow a lot thinner. They were still there, but they receeded quite a bit and thinned out (ooc: the mist is reducing its potency/radius/thickness/whatever by half until further notice).

A tendril of mist suddenly wrapped harmlessly around Desafon, and quickly pulled him backward a bit with much solidity. They deposited Desafon a few meters away from Khor - in exactly the opposite position Desa was in before, although a bit off to the side. The discerning eye would notice that Khor would now be clearly open to Pitcarn's rifle attacks.

His warrior's eye noting the switching of the knives in Khor's remaining hand, Pitcarn knew that the only solid conclusion he had about the Murder Knife at the moment was that he could decide on nothing definite. Pitcarn hated magic.

With Desafon out of the way for just an instant, Pitcarn released another volley of shots, less concerned with hitting Khor and more to provide Desafon a chance to recover himself and attack before Khor could move again. Pitcarn needed the gift that Anik was making. It could end this fight much sooner, he hoped.

Considering how much pain he was in just recently, he really doubted there was much else to do but put up a valiant effort and wind up dying on his next attempt to swing. However, the SUIT definitely surprised him by making things a lot better, even if it was momentarily. Desafon has been angry before, perhaps even mad, but he has never before felt so much adrenaline and so much blood pumping in his body as he does now. Its as if every little synapse in his body was on fire and he glared with glassy eyes and felt pure, concentrated rage...

However, that rage was momentary abated when he was prepared to charge forward and the mist yanked him back. Glaring at the mist, Desafon found Pitcarn firing. He waited for the ammunition to move before he leaps at Khor, attempting to focus enough of his rage to make Khor think his enemy was fighting on pure rage, before he would instead make a feint towards Khor's other hand, attempting to do the best he can on disarming his enemy entirely.

Diamond rounds struck the Murder God just as Desafon leaped into the offensive. Silver blurred about the enemy, and angry screams filled the din.

The mist subsided slowly but surely. Whatever assistance had been given to them had been deactivated. (Ruse, you begin to feel recharged. It is a slow process - or at least it seems that way - but your abilities grow slowly stronger as your energy levels increased.)

Pitcarn stopped firing once it became plausible that Desafon would be hit in the crossfire, but it seemed the Pirate Duelist was holding his own. The SUIT shimmered in the smoke and the mist, and Des moved faster than he had originally thought capable. Both blades sunk deep into Khor's chest and the screams grew louder as Desafon struck again, and again, and again -

The God of Murder fell still. Desafon fell across the body, utterly drained. Blood spurted from Khor's wounds. They hoped this was his final death...

Peace. Peace at last. Pe -

No.

In the corner of Pitcarn's eye, he noticed something red and sharp strike suddenly towards Desafon -

The Knife?!

((OOC: Ok I spent a while looking through several threads and kinda figured out what is happening here. LOL. I THINK that Khor isn't an immediate threat to them anymore, but the dagger still is. I also know there was a plan where Anik built an uber-gun and is coordinating with Ruse via the low lord tasks channel. Anik either gave Pitcarn or one of his manifestations (so thus pit has it in this thread if he needs it) the gun or is about to give it to him, if I'm following things correctly. Ruse then is going to use his forsaken power to immobilize the dagger and keep it away from Khor while the others finish him off. But I'm thinking with things as they are now that shooting the damned dagger with the gun would be better actually, as it would either fully kill khor or at least neuter him if his body isn't already dead.))

Ruse continued to conserve his power, and of course avoided using magic as much as possible due to the urge - although hopefully the urge would be relenting very soon. If Ruse could unleash his full magic he'd have Khor's hide. But for now, he'd rely on his psionics and divine power to keep things going, and to give his plans the time and positioning they need to manifest.

He continues using metastrategery to read the battlefield and especially the movements of the dagger, and depowers his mists even more, only proving little boosts of power to them when it became apparent to him that Desafon would be directly hit by the dagger, at which point a misty tendril would pull Desafon's prone body out of the path of the flying dagger and drag it away from both Khor's own prone apparently lifeless body as well as Pitcarn's position. But only if he needed to do so - Ruse expected the dagger was in "Stalk mode" and that even with Khor down and out of the fight, it was locked onto Desafon and would keep going after him until Desfon died or was ruined.

Unless the dagger was ruined first, which was Ruse's plan.

With Desafon now obviously beyond exhausted and drained, and literally down out of the fight, it was up to Pitcarn and ruse to make things work.

((ooc: I'm posting in the low-lord thread to have Pitcarn get ready and have things go))