Post by Ingway Desmodius on Nov 6, 2012 17:35:59 GMT -5
A crack of lightening split the sky before tearing the heavy tree in two; the fractal remnants of splintered wood alight for but a moment before being swept away as but smoke amongst the vibrant greenery of the Forests of Alberisato. Landing, feather soft, on the branches of a nearby tree, Ingway, adjusted his hat and took a hard gulp of air, trying to stomach the now passing sense of dread that he had just tasted. Peering through the verdant vegetation of the forest, his keen vision could see his foe staring, intently, at his recently razed target, no doubt searching for the young man presence.
"Hmmm…I was frankly hoping you'd be slower…" Celtik announced, his tone hovering somewhere between surprise and apathy. "It would've made this end a lot quicker, and I hate having to put a whole lot of effort forth." Celtik panned his eyes around the encircling flora, his lacklustre attitude belying his deadly and proficient perception. His eyes darted from tree to tree, shadow to shadow, hoping to catch sight of the golden-haired rogue. Possessing the advantage of knowing where his opponent was, Ingway sat and pondered about his adversary, his mind racing to concoct a strategy against his gunslinging foe.
With a quick motion of his hands, Ingway created several glyhps at the cusp of his range, 30 feet away, and launched a salvo of daggers at Celtik's side, but with motions swift as lightening, and a stunning display of accuracy, Celtik responded with a shot for each dagger, deflecting them all before calling out, once again, "THUNER!" and sundering the nearby tree in flash of sky splitting light.
"…Missed again…Dammit," the man whispered after the dust cleared, his apathetic tone now carrying a hint of frustration.
The man fought like a turret, never moving from his spot since the start of their battle, but, little by litre, Ingway was starting to understand the extent of his opponents abilities. Determined to maneuver his foe from the small clearing that he had situated himself in, Ingway darted from tree to tree, his fleet movements shaking stray branches and making his opponent wise to his location. "All part of the plan," Ingway thought to himself as his foe opened fire, his pinpoint shots just barely being dodged thanks to the cover of the dense vegetation.
With hand motions as swift as his footfalls, the opaque green glow of Ingways glyphs quickly surrounded Celtik before assaulting the man with weapons of all kinds. Spears, swords, lances, katanas, nigh every weapons imaginable protruded from the assorted portals, each lunging towards Celtik, forcing the man, in an acrobatic display, to dodge and maneuver away from his position. Keeping pressure, Ingway continued to assail the spectacled royal, glyph after glyph, weapon after weapon, till Celtik found himself displaced from his clearing and now amongst the twisting, uneven paths of roots and soil that more commonly made up the floor of the densely packed forest. Celtik no longer possessed the benefit of superior positioning, but he still had his greatest assets; his eyes and his guns.
Darting his vision side to side, high and low, his guns waving in unison, Celtik's finely honed senses allowed him an almost supernatural perception. Every falling leaf, the crack of a twig, every gust of air that crossed his path fed him information that any average man would be blind to. His stance rang with a reminiscence of the great trees before him; unbending, unyielding and unmoving to all, but broken in an instant, as he pivoted and fired off several shots in a distant treetop. Were it not for Ingway's innate reflexes, the bullets would've caught him all along his legs, but an instinctual flip guaranteed that they only nicked him along his arm and back, though a stray one in his shoulder displaced the rogue from his perch, dropping him to the forest floor, where he quickly maneuvered to cover after a feathered and surreptitious fall.
There was no combating the marksman reliably at a distance, Ingway knew that now. Taking to the offensive, Ingway generated glyph after glyph, each one pouring a thick blanket of fog into the surround area, leaving Celtik with only his sense of hearing to try and perceive the fleet footed maneuvers of the veteran rogue. Tearing through uneven flooring of the forest at blinding speeds, Celtik could only fire several shots at the occasional perceived footfall before the distance between the two men had be closed. With a spirited leap, Ingway thrust his knee forward, delivering a head-tossing blow to Celtik's chin before kicking of the man's chest, and letting fly the barrage of daggers that he held in hand.
With the veil of fog having thinned some, Celtik's sight led his hands once again, his shots denying yet another one of Ingway's clustered projectiles, but no sooner had he dealt with the onslaught of daggers dis his vision catch sight of Ingway darting towards him once again, as the glow of a green glyph surrounded the young man's hand. With a hasty and boisterous cry from Celtik, a terrifying display of magic tore not only the sky, but the battle field asunder, as lightening assailed the thick forested battlefield, bolt after bolt, leaving nothing but a charred, scorned, manmade clearing.
Their eyes having acclimated after witnessing the frenzied flashes of light, the two men stood not more then 40 feet from one another, each one trying to push through the pulsating pain from the electricity that now surged through their bodies and hampered their movements. Struggling to raise his arm, Celtik took aim at his adversary, his body's betraying motions hampering his aim severely, as he fired a bout of errant shots.
Bearing witness to several wide shots from the expert marksman, Ingway saw his chance and maneuvered forward, knowing well the restrictions of his own abilities just as well as the benefits. Taking the several steps necessary to get into range, Ingway needed only perform several brief hand motions before the familiar glow of his powers culminated around Celtik's form, the keen points and blades, led by Ingway's mind more than body, jutting but inches shy from the gunslingers' vital points. With a slow panning glance from behind his spectacles, Celtik dropped his guns and let out a quiet sigh.
"It's not like I was trying that hard anyway…" the man sulked a bit behind his facade of indifference before Ingway called back his armaments, knowing all too well the phrase, "i surrender," when he heard it.
VICTORY: Ingway
"Hmmm…I was frankly hoping you'd be slower…" Celtik announced, his tone hovering somewhere between surprise and apathy. "It would've made this end a lot quicker, and I hate having to put a whole lot of effort forth." Celtik panned his eyes around the encircling flora, his lacklustre attitude belying his deadly and proficient perception. His eyes darted from tree to tree, shadow to shadow, hoping to catch sight of the golden-haired rogue. Possessing the advantage of knowing where his opponent was, Ingway sat and pondered about his adversary, his mind racing to concoct a strategy against his gunslinging foe.
With a quick motion of his hands, Ingway created several glyhps at the cusp of his range, 30 feet away, and launched a salvo of daggers at Celtik's side, but with motions swift as lightening, and a stunning display of accuracy, Celtik responded with a shot for each dagger, deflecting them all before calling out, once again, "THUNER!" and sundering the nearby tree in flash of sky splitting light.
"…Missed again…Dammit," the man whispered after the dust cleared, his apathetic tone now carrying a hint of frustration.
The man fought like a turret, never moving from his spot since the start of their battle, but, little by litre, Ingway was starting to understand the extent of his opponents abilities. Determined to maneuver his foe from the small clearing that he had situated himself in, Ingway darted from tree to tree, his fleet movements shaking stray branches and making his opponent wise to his location. "All part of the plan," Ingway thought to himself as his foe opened fire, his pinpoint shots just barely being dodged thanks to the cover of the dense vegetation.
With hand motions as swift as his footfalls, the opaque green glow of Ingways glyphs quickly surrounded Celtik before assaulting the man with weapons of all kinds. Spears, swords, lances, katanas, nigh every weapons imaginable protruded from the assorted portals, each lunging towards Celtik, forcing the man, in an acrobatic display, to dodge and maneuver away from his position. Keeping pressure, Ingway continued to assail the spectacled royal, glyph after glyph, weapon after weapon, till Celtik found himself displaced from his clearing and now amongst the twisting, uneven paths of roots and soil that more commonly made up the floor of the densely packed forest. Celtik no longer possessed the benefit of superior positioning, but he still had his greatest assets; his eyes and his guns.
Darting his vision side to side, high and low, his guns waving in unison, Celtik's finely honed senses allowed him an almost supernatural perception. Every falling leaf, the crack of a twig, every gust of air that crossed his path fed him information that any average man would be blind to. His stance rang with a reminiscence of the great trees before him; unbending, unyielding and unmoving to all, but broken in an instant, as he pivoted and fired off several shots in a distant treetop. Were it not for Ingway's innate reflexes, the bullets would've caught him all along his legs, but an instinctual flip guaranteed that they only nicked him along his arm and back, though a stray one in his shoulder displaced the rogue from his perch, dropping him to the forest floor, where he quickly maneuvered to cover after a feathered and surreptitious fall.
There was no combating the marksman reliably at a distance, Ingway knew that now. Taking to the offensive, Ingway generated glyph after glyph, each one pouring a thick blanket of fog into the surround area, leaving Celtik with only his sense of hearing to try and perceive the fleet footed maneuvers of the veteran rogue. Tearing through uneven flooring of the forest at blinding speeds, Celtik could only fire several shots at the occasional perceived footfall before the distance between the two men had be closed. With a spirited leap, Ingway thrust his knee forward, delivering a head-tossing blow to Celtik's chin before kicking of the man's chest, and letting fly the barrage of daggers that he held in hand.
With the veil of fog having thinned some, Celtik's sight led his hands once again, his shots denying yet another one of Ingway's clustered projectiles, but no sooner had he dealt with the onslaught of daggers dis his vision catch sight of Ingway darting towards him once again, as the glow of a green glyph surrounded the young man's hand. With a hasty and boisterous cry from Celtik, a terrifying display of magic tore not only the sky, but the battle field asunder, as lightening assailed the thick forested battlefield, bolt after bolt, leaving nothing but a charred, scorned, manmade clearing.
Their eyes having acclimated after witnessing the frenzied flashes of light, the two men stood not more then 40 feet from one another, each one trying to push through the pulsating pain from the electricity that now surged through their bodies and hampered their movements. Struggling to raise his arm, Celtik took aim at his adversary, his body's betraying motions hampering his aim severely, as he fired a bout of errant shots.
Bearing witness to several wide shots from the expert marksman, Ingway saw his chance and maneuvered forward, knowing well the restrictions of his own abilities just as well as the benefits. Taking the several steps necessary to get into range, Ingway needed only perform several brief hand motions before the familiar glow of his powers culminated around Celtik's form, the keen points and blades, led by Ingway's mind more than body, jutting but inches shy from the gunslingers' vital points. With a slow panning glance from behind his spectacles, Celtik dropped his guns and let out a quiet sigh.
"It's not like I was trying that hard anyway…" the man sulked a bit behind his facade of indifference before Ingway called back his armaments, knowing all too well the phrase, "i surrender," when he heard it.
VICTORY: Ingway