dev 6 - fight with aelia

Aelia says, "Hello, Lord Rowan."


Arthur Rowan says, "Hello."
Aelia heaves a sigh for a moment, before she continues to speak.
(Aelia)


Aelia says, "I'm aware I can't possibly beat you; but it'd be remiss of me if I didn't at least try."

Arthur Rowan says, "Huh."

Arthur Rowan asks, "Oh! You're from Huangzhou, aren't you?"

Aelia says, "No. I am from Dawn."

Arthur Rowan says, "Then..."

Arthur Rowan asks, "What, did you just want a practice?"

Aelia says, "Hmm, before we begin.."

Aelia asks, "Might I ask why you invited the vampires into Dawn?"

Arthur Rowan asks, "Is it really unclear?"

Aelia says, "You were losing the war and needed allies."

Arthur Rowan says, "Correct. And so they've proved themselves as useful allies."

Aelia says, "It's a fair choice, anyone rational would, and should have made it."

Arthur Rowan says, "They've killed plenty of Order mages. The magi that would kill us, instead."

Arthur Rowan says, "So I'd say it was worth it."

Aelia says, "Tch. Perhaps, but they're evil creatures deserving of extinction."
The woman's expression shifts, obviously unhappy with the man's answer, but it was a fair response nonetheless. She couldn't blame him for it, though she also couldn't condone it. They had taken too much from her.

Amber eyes settle on his frame, hand moving to grip at her ornated rapier, long clawed fingers playing across its hilt, mulling over the decision to continue. It was, perhaps, too far to back out now anyway, so she pushes forth, grip tightening and pointed edge directed toward the self-proclaimed king.

Her words are shaky at first, as she's obviously unsure of this decision that would certainly lead to her defeat, but alas.

"Athur Rowan, King of Dawn -- for your crimes I hereby sentence you to death. I request you come with me to Huangzhou -- or I can deliver justice right here."

(Aelia)

Bold of her.

To see that there were still troops from Huangzhou roaming about and seeking fights with those from Dawn was surprising to him- but the 'sentencing' part is what causes the King to cackle, with loud and resonating laugh; so loud that it seems to pierce the surroundings with fair ease, reaching far and wide.

"I was almost convinced that your forces stopped roaming around here altogether. I suppose I would need to up the security again."

But the declaration, rather than being met with a cheery demeanor, instead met with the flare of blues flickering in his eyes. It's clear that such intent towards the King would be met with naught but most seriousness, and rather than expecting him to fight alone, there are several guardsmen that come to his aid, all raising their aim at the woman.

"Well then."

The lightning surges through him. For a moment, it turns jet black, rather than the blue color of crackling lightning that most would be used to. Something seems to shift, to change, and the Rowan looks up at her again. A pause, and he exclaims.

"Come at me, then."
(Arthur Rowan)


Aelia says, "I'm only 200"
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Aelia has sustained a grevious injury in battle...

Aelia has rolled 2 or over: they may escape capture attempts (unless otherwise specified)!

If she were facing Arthur just about a decade ago, or even two, one could see how vastly different the man was. So much changed... so much blood was spilled, so much jade imposed upon his mind. Even now, when the woman made her best effort to get at the Lich King, his proficiency in fighting her only grew with each passing second. He adapted, and one may think that the opponent of such age would have vast experience behind him - which is very much true, considering the outcome of this battle.

'I may end her life... but I feel nothing about it.'

A disturbing thought the Lich King came across with each surge of lightning across his mind, something that blocked any feeling or emotion- something that he could no longer invest himself in- and in another charge that woman made, she was caught. From up close, the cuts that she'd try to perform upon his body... only then, she could see that they're regenerating, that harming his physical form is futile. That the two flaring blues now gaze close, closer, like the eye of the Void peering into her soul.

"Foolish decision to face the Lich King all alone."
"I would suggest you run. But that opportunity has long passed."
"Now, suffer your punishment."

A grip upon her throat, and the very lifeforce that held her together was being drained, all to supply the Lich King instead- her smooth young skin, her face with no wrinkles, her toned body... all of it was being ripped away, stolen to perhaps shift the Rowan a step closer to curing his affliction, shaking her down of anything she could possibly offer to him- the blotches of decay were appearing on her body, a replacement from where they used to be upon his body. The darkness closes in, and where the pain could be sensed...

There's nothing.

He drops her on the ground, within the darkness of caverns. He simply floats away, going about with his business, not even checking whether she's dead or not - for him, she was just another meal.

For her, it was a nightmare.
(Arthur Rowan)

It was, obviously, a hopeless fight. She knew that from the beginning. There wasn't a shred of hope that she would actually be able to best him, even if honor demanded she give it a try. And try she does, managing to bring him low for but a split second, giving the poor Drakanite that split second of hope she so craved for.

And just as soon as it comes, it's torn away. Rotten undead flesh that she had worked so hard to cleave and sunder apart easily mends and fixes itself before her very eyes. A horrid sight to behold that stuns her, just long enough to forbid movement, and allow the dreadful chill of death to grip at her throat, desperate claws digging into the arm restraining her in an attempt to pry it away and gain some relieve, some reprieve, some respite.

But she's denied even that. Her life and essence being drained and stolen away, bit by bit. Beautiful green scales turning mottled and rotting, sloughing off to reveal theraw flesh beneath, skin blackening and cracking as life is stolen. Strength fading from her arms before falling slack to her sides, unable to resist further.

And all at once, it halts. She's dropped and discarded, thrown away as one would a wrapper, harried breaths heaving from her chest as she forces herself to crawl away, though even that is difficult now. Why couldn't he have just killed her and ended this?

But no, she's forced to persist, and suffer.
(Aelia)