The Final Fight[PK]

[Damnit_Delmar 1177]

Spoiler

 

The Final Fight

 

It was the heavy sound of Brenaris' boots against the blackened steps of the Gashadokuros' fortress, that truly resounded throughout the empty marshlands. The tired rasp of the old Highlander, ringing out as he stood at the entrance to that terrible stronghold. His dulled green gaze, staring upwards at the terrible keep, his mind rushing with ideas of what lay inside. Yet that mattered little to the aged Templar, for as he stood there in all of his armored glory, his charred vocals resonated throughout the wicked forest. 

 

"Reveal yourself, agents of Iblees, and combat me in a glorious duel!" Silence rang throughout the place, perhaps only the bugs and beasts of the realm hearing his cries for combat. A look of disgust gracing the mans marred visage, only for a newly spoken voice to reveal itself within the occult bastion. 

"What do you want! Its Ibleesmas eve!" A figure donning chitinous armor armor, and holding carefully kept equipment, stood at the top of the stronghold. Several undead minions, already starting to deliver down a rope for the warrior to descend down on, the armored warrior looking to Brenaris with a veiled expression of boredom. 

 

"I seek a Duel to the Death." The voice of the candid crusader rang out, causing the acolyte to burst into a fit of laughter. 

 

"YOUR JOKING!" A chorus of cackles erupted, though the silence from the golden fisted, led to that laughter diminishing. The warrior shaking their head, as they drew forth their shield, and an arming sword, the warrior lowering into a defensive stance.  "Suit yourself." 

 

The moment those words began, so did the battle commence, a song of brutality and zealous fury. The shield of the chitinous warrior was broken in first, dented and cracked from the might of the Templar, forcing them to drop barrier. Though this only lead to an onslaught of aurum fury, a set of punches set to the visage of the masked mali. Causing the helm to crack and dent from the continuous force, the shield and polearm coming to clatter onto the ground. The weapon still frothing with glorious white flame. 

 

"Owyns' fury guide my hand, and allow me to cleanse this wretched worshipper!" A prayer sang out, as the man released the weapon, his armor cut and slashed into. The chainmail coming to screech from the metallic weaponry that cut at it; such a noise that was quickly quelled by the flying weaponry, the white flamed instrument of the Angul, gripped tightly in hand as he sent it downwards towards the blade of the arming sword. The edged weapon, causing a noticeable crack into the wooden pole of the halberd. 

 

"YOUR.GOD.IS.A.VOIDAL.BEHEMOTH!" The chitinous warrior screeched in delirium, stumbling about, as they fumbled on their back for a weapon of ivory craft. The bone spear, clutched in her left hand, was sent directly the crack once more. Another strike coming to crack into the polearm of the weapon, though that hindered it little as the weapon was raised in courageous defiance. The axe-head sent down towards the shoulder, a horrendous noise filling the air as it landed. 

 

"I shall not believe your LIES!" Another ting could be heard, the Mali managing to thrust the spear upwards, the polearms defense of it final, as the weapons pole came to crack into two. The axe-head however, still remained lodged into the shoulder of the warrior, the white flame still frothing from it. "MAY HIS LIGHT GUIDE!"

 

A wretched flop was heard, the screams of the chitinous warrior singing out as she lost that limb, so much so that the Templar found himself distracted. It was not until he felt the ichor dribble down his cheek, that he felt the stinging pain of the spear that had pierced into his cheek. A hot and fiery rage began to fill his spirit and being, his rage clouding all judgement, all thought. It was merely the action, the commands in which the Angul had inscribed into his very being. To cleanse and kill the remaining Darkspawn that lingered in this land. 

 

The sound of panting and screaming, brought his attention back towards the fight, the armored warrior shuffling backwards down the stairs. The man merely lurching his arm back as he rushed on forward, the weapon drawn to toss the shattered blade into the side of their skull. The soft crunch of that metal burying into the fleeing warrior, starting to calm the senses some, though his mind was still afflicted to the violent rage. He felt himself step back, his hands coming together to ball into a great mighty fist, his form lurching forward. His full weight brought forth, as he readied to slam his twinned fists into the back of that dying, perhaps dead warrior of the dark. He felt rightous, true, and proud. Knowing that even with his aged person, he still could provide as a guiding light for the Lord of Courage. It was all so real, so vivid, so- 

 

Crack

...

 

Epilogue

 

The Elf awoke in a pile of blood and grass, their gaze lifting upwards some, as they would find themselves in a groggy state still. Yet despite such, it would only be them, the foul and the wretched that would lay witness to the cruel display that had become of the once Templar.  Perhaps they would spin this into a grand tale, or perhaps they would keep this encounter a secret, whatever was the case. What once had been shield to the realms of Canondom, now lay upon the ground as new fertilizer for the faithless. 

Spoiler

This was a long time coming for him, played him on occasion, sadly didn't have much to do with him. Though I hope to replace his slot with something else, excited for the rp to come and hope that those that interacted with him had a good time/experience. Had lots of fun during the Lector Excavation eventline and the various Inquisitor stuff I did with him. 

 

Thanks to @ThatFunkyBunchfor the fun crp

 

Also Happy Holidays 

 

[ThatFunkyBunch 2066]

An Azulyte, stares at their arm. Back to the moon lit lands after awakening. A deep, primal fear of templar settling in her mind. As she departs. Alive, but frayed. The fledglings mind ever scarred from this battle. She would not remain the same. The thought of being truly, INVINCIBLE, shattered with good cause. 

"Never underestimate a Templar."

[Bethinwonderland 1140]

Spoiler

Great Pk post! Wonderfully written