The Dance Atop the Mountain

[MonteGiant 891]

 

Spoiler

 

 

 

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THE DANCE ATOP THE MOUNTAIN

 

 

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"The only reason a warrior is alive, is to fight. 

The only reason a warrior fights, is to kill…”

 

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Far amongst the peaks of the Earthen crust, a great mountain would welcome few, and it was here that two warriors met. One a child of Horen of foreign descent, native to lands far away, and the other a child of Malin, both descendants blessed with hair of red. Ferocity lies within all Descendants, and great fury was shown in the battle atop this peak, a battle between two equals. The skirmish would be swift yet deadly, one with skill proven in combat by centuries of experience, and the other fighting in a chaotic wrath, moving like flame aided by a gust of wind.

 

The moments leading up to the event would be strange; something drew both of these great fighters atop this peak, something unexplainable that could perhaps only be described as an intervention that guided them to this location. It was atop this peak they met, few words would be spoken, but these words would mean nought, for both of these warriors knew what would happen in this meeting. They spoke in brief, then one of the warriors would graze his beard, asking a question of the other man garbed in foreign livery with warpaint emblazoned on face. 

 

[!]“Come hither, foreign one, let me see your skill. Let those above bear witness to your prowess, before I enter my blade into your gullet.”

 

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After speaking these words, the descendant of Malin would draw his longsword of ebon material, coated in the dried blood of past battles, his clawed gauntlet clutching this blade with great finesse. Then, scratching the face of the blade, causing a spark and then flames upon the sword, a most chaotic element. The Tawantinsuyin, in return, would draw his round shield and his axe of gold, sparkling with lightning when gracing this Tawantinsuyin’s hand. The child of Malin holding his longsword in a defensible position, the Tawantinsuyin would bear his shield forward and his axe hidden from view down below.

 

And so the duel would start, the Tawantinsuyin rushing forward in a great dash, moving in an odd pattern to throw off his opponent’s accuracy. With his shield up, protecting his rush, he would angle it and put it directly in the Mali’s face as he came from below with his axe. Swinging like an uppercut to the foe’s chest. However, the Mali’s golden eyes watched each of the Tawantinsuyin’s movements as he rushed towards his statuesque stance, the flames licking the edge of his blade. Quickly, the Mali slid back, bringing his blade down to deflect the axe with the midsection of his blade. In rapid succession, the son of Malin would move to slam his pommel into the inside of the shield, in an attempt to expose their opponent further.

 

The counterattack of the Mali would land, but not exactly to his wants, for the Tawantinsuyin Foreigner would raise his position from below, moving with the strike, keeping his shield up in a bizarre way, holding it as if he were about to put it away on his back. The Tawantinsuyin would use this change of momentum to give what appeared to be a slash to the left side of the bearded one’s face… 

 

Yet it was a feint!

 

The Tawantinsuyin spun around with the shield behind him to utilize as protection, then granting a spinning back-strike with the hammer side of his axe into the High Elf’s right arm with great velocity! The plate of the Mali’s armor dented, and in such he yelped in great pain. The Mali slid back, crafting some distance for himself. Adjusting the blade in his hand, before sweeping it towards the ground, to sic the flames upon the edge of his blade to lick at the Foreigner's legs. The Tawantinsuyin, after landing the spinning back hammer strike, would then see that son of Malin jump back and send a lick of flames to his legs. 

 

The Tawantinsuyin would change his level to the ground, to allow his radiant poncho to drape the floor instead of grazing his knees. In his shell, the Tawantinsuyin would tuck his golden axe into his belt, then draw upon his mighty star-shaped mace, but this fact of weapon change would be unknown to the Mali, for these events would all occur under the drapery of his outer garment. The Mali would step in anticipation, watching on as he saw how the Tawantinsuyin reacted to the flames. He flipped the sword in his hand, flames swirling about in the air as he drew back and settled into his stance, awaiting the Tawantinsuyin’s next move.

 

The Tawantinsuyin would then sprout out from his cover in a flash of fury! Spinning like a tornado before immediately slamming his mace into the ground, sending out an explosive THUNDERCLAP into the ears of his opponent, echoing across the mountain!

 

In succession after slamming his mace on the ground, the chaotic Tawantinsuyin would then spin along directly after, striking the High Elf in the chest with his shield, crashing down from above in a swiftness. The High Elf would be taken by utter surprise, moving to cover his ears at the sudden explosive BOOM, wincing to the intense sound. This movement of instinct, however, would be met by the shield rapidly slammed in the chest, sending the elf back a step as they would feel the wind knocked out of them. The Mali took in a deep breath, focusing himself once more as he caught his breath. Shouting towards the Tawantinsuyin, adjusting the blade in his hand. He went to feint a swipe of the flaming sword towards the Tawantinsuyin’s left flank, but in truth, he released his right clawed gauntlet, swiping at the Human's right flank. 

 

Upon striking the son of Malin, the Tawantinsuyin would bring his shield to follow his next mace attack, aiming to move to the left, fully expecting a hit from the right. This movement would allow the Elven sword to meet its mark, slamming half into his poncho and the other into the rough, padded leather of his left arm. This slash, in both force and cut, would cause enough pain in the Tawantinsuyin to drop his shield, though not before he blocked the clawed swipe from the gauntlet. To counter such an attack, the Tawantinsuyin would drive the top of his mace into the face of the son of Malin, this strike being of the wooden handle of the weapon and not of the mighty material its head was crafted of… The son of Malin, continuing with his momentum, would bring his gauntlet over to punch into the handle of the mace, diverting the hit away from his jaw, instead scratching it as a cut marked his face. He hissed in malice at the now scarred visage he now holds, and to counter, the High Elf attempted a strike with his left hand supported by the hilt of his blade, to the Tawantinsuyin’s jaw. 

 

The Tawantinsuyin, after landing his jab, would shift his level downwards to dodge the attack from the High Elf. From his lower positioning, the Tawantinsuyin would go to grab with his left hand his chain bolas, quickly lashing out with them at the son of Malin’s legs from his lowered stance, trying to tangle or bring pain to the elf. Yet the High Elf’s eyes shot down, watching all what the Tawantinsuyin attempted. He jumped away from such an attack, dodging the chains with little effort, then making a second swipe of his blade towards the Tawantinsuyin's legs. 

 

The flames of the blade rushed like wolves to lick at his feet… 

 

But the rain protected the Tawantinsuyin, and the flame of the blade went out, and the attempted slinging of such would fail as well. In realization of the fire being torn away from him by the rain above, he backed away to make even more distance from the Tawantinsuyin.

 

The Tawantinsuyin, after his failure with the bolas, would tuck his mace into his belt, grabbing back out his golden axe, shadowing the steps of the son of Malin. In his movements, the Tawantinsuyin would drop the chain bolas to the ground, then stomp upon the edge of his round shield with his left foot, causing the shield to jump in the air and back into his grasp. Following such a brief moment of recollection, the Tawantinsuyin would then fall into a wide stance, his shield covering his body and his axe raised high upon his shoulder. 

 

Rain would fall upon both of the warriors sitting in anticipation within their stances, pelting them and drenching them thoroughly. As the rain would fall onto the poncho of the Tawantinsuyin, it would fizzle like water on a skillet. The unease of such a battle would bring tunnel vision to both of their minds, and with such, the anticipation of combat to begin again… 

 

The Mali seemed to want to try something different as the battle shifted. Sheathing his sword, he began inscribing a mark upon his right gauntlet. With this, it would burst into flame like his blade once was, but the flame was different… almost otherworldly. Now, his right hand graced with flame, the High Elf shifted his stance into a stance fit for a martial artist, clawed digits extended outward, his left claw close to his face, and his toes supporting the stance with nimbleness. The Tawantinsuyin would dash forward, a golden blur under the falling rain, his axe crackling with a golden lightning as he rushed forward. The Tawantinsuyin would go to bash with the edge of his shield in a jab to the top of the High Elf’s chest, then moving his axe behind the elf’s leg so that it would enable him to trip backwards onto the ground, trying to make the elf tip over like a weak building.

 

In a swift motion, the high elf would yank at the underside of the shield with his flaming claw, attempting to send it over his head. With his left, he quickly followed up with a jab to the Tawantinsuyin's jaw. The axe, however, caused the son of Malin to stumble back, setting him off balance and his stance. The uppercut would also land on the shield, sending it up high above the Tawantinsuyin’s head. The left fist of the elf would miss its mark on the jaw, but instead hit the right cheekbone of the Tawantinsuyin, bruising his face purple. With the shield in a raised position, however, the Tawantinsuyin would give a strike from right to left to the High Elf’s face, further using his positioned axe as a tool of leverage to bring the Mali down to the ground!

 

As the hit of the shield landed, further leveraged by the Tawantinsuyin’s axe, it sent the Mali to the ground as prepared. Letting out a gasp for air as he landed on his back, dazed with stars clamoring his mind, he fought to recollect himself, raising his fists in protection of his face as he realized his position. The Tawantinsuyin’s axe would launch away as the Mali’s back met the ground, then he would grab back out his mace in a rapid spinning motion, resulting in the armament meeting the chest of the Mali with a resounding BOOM that would send a shockwave unto the rain pelting from above, stopping it if only for a moment.

 

The cuirass of the Mali would be broken through, ichor now gushing from the wound upon his chest, crippled he sat as the mace broke plate and rib alike. The High Elf would smile, looking towards the rain clearing up as if the Thunderclap from the mace scared it away, yet with this smile, he would gasp for air as his lungs were emptied. The Son of Malin would go limp, The Dance Atop the Mountain finally meeting its finale...

Edited June 20, 2025 by MonteGiant