[21:41] "When do you think they'll let us go back, Gerald? Nothing ever happens around here, it's so boring."

The woman sat on the earthy marsh, resting against one of the trunks of Gehenna's vast forest. Cupped in her hands was a lone rat skull. The bone was an exquisite white colour, contrast to the terrain around them.

Another day stationed in defensive lines, therer was nothing to do, nobody to talk to. She was foreign to the area, avoiding it ever since an incident with the Moris. Not recognizing anyone, she kept to herself. Her appearance caused many to avoid her.

It didn't bother her, loneliness was something she'd became accustomed to many years ago. It was never truly quiet for her, the voices bestowed upon her by the plague persisted in every waking moment.

The cries of a scout rung through the air, in an instant her comrades rose, all were prepared and ready to fight at short notice. With a smile, Mutt stood as well.
In unison they advanced in the direction of the opposing force. The clangs of metal as swords clashed, sounds of arrows leaving the bows of many archers. Mutt ignored it all and instead kept scanned the environment for any magi.

Her eyes locked onto Sigobriar, and in a burst of energy she started toward him. When the distance between them thinned, a wall of shadowflame was cast ahead, with the intent of halting him.

"Finally."
(Mutt)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[21:56] Sigobriar was an imposing figure, a giant, clad in full platemail. In his armor, he stood well over seven feet tall, with a bulky build to match. He led a small contingency of troops, aid from Huangzhou's local militia as he patrolled the lands nearby. Despite this, he was never one for open conflict. Only now choosing to aid in the war efforts, having been persuaded that this war, would decide the fate of Agartha. If that was truly the case, then he couldn't live with himself if he simply sat in the safety of town, while brave soldiers risked their lives.

In the distance, he spotted a small encampment of enemy soldiers, but only one of them, did he sense any real threat from. His soldiers charged, despite his orders. They were zealous, and he would only sigh. A sudden draft coming over the battlefield, as winds kicked up.

He didn't get long, only enough time to draw his polearm, before the enemy magi came charging towards him. A wall of Shadowflame cast in front of him. He would only shrug, as shimmering rain fell upon it, dousing it enough for him to pass. His gaze met Mutt's, and golden lightning coursed across his body, as thunder resounded, melding with the clashing of steel.

He wore a sorrowful look to his features, saddened that he had to fight such a person. He called out to them, his voice booming like the thunder around him. "My name is Sigobriar Tiarnnin, Knight of the Holy Order of the Radiant Shield! Stand down, and know Mercy, or Dance with me in battle, and know Truth!", he bellowed, already preparing himself for the fight that would inevitably come.
(Sigobriar)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[22:08] "I'm sorry, Sigobriar. I don't have a choice. If I don't fight you here, I'll be punished with death, or worse."

Her casting knife was drawn, its blade rusty and corroded. An embedded ruby shone with mana, orichalcum conducted its energy. It functioned as a wand more than anything else.
Flames burst from the weapon and orbitted around her figure. Mutt's eyes festered with occultic energy, as she enterred her combative, destruction fuelled state.

"If anything happens, forgive me."

Although she'd gain enjoyment from the conflict, she still was opposed to it. Over the years she'd come to understand why they fought Dusk. Sors was an evil man, and they were trying to stop him.
(Mutt)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[22:10] Sigobriar simply nodded, his lightning arcing from the blade of his polearm, as he sighed. "Aye. Then let us sing a glorious song of battle, and do our best to enjoy ourselves!", he gave a faint smile.
(Sigobriar)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[22:22] The fighting began, a tremendous boom as Sigobriar called down a bolt of Lightning that sundered the air around it. He called upon all the elements of a Storm to clash against the woman's Occult flames. And even still, he found himself challenged by her. Such skill she possessed! Were they not enemies, he would have loved to practice with her! To call her friend! It drove him to fight harder, to see this to the end, with the Alliance as the victors! So that future generations would not have to endure such a fate.

Waters surrounded the man, keeping him protected from the fire, and healing the wounds she tried to inflict on him, as Lightning continued to rain down, and winds continued to pester her, halting her from moving too quickly. Her raw energy pummeled and ripped through his defenses at points, searing less bound sections from his body, and leaving him rather batters.

Through it all, he kept a slight smile to him. As though, he enjoyed himself. And indeed, he did. He enjoyed the battle itself. He would not be content to find the enemy weak, or overpowering. She was strong, and so was he. And their clashes created such a beautiful melody, as the storm continued to rage.

"You have my respect, warrior... Whatever happens in this fight, I commend you for your skill! You are truly, a worthy opponent!", he gave her a small salute, before readying himself once again.
(Sigobriar)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[22:43] Her motives weren't as valiant as his. Where he selfishly fought for a peaceful world for future generations, she fought for self-preservation. The despicable deeds of Dawn weren't too apparent to her when she was an isolated child, when they were she embraced them. Only when she came under Sors's control did she realise the settlement's atrocities.

Fire met with water, darkness with light. The two had quite a difference in style. Mutt was more offensive, hurling bursts of energy and balls of fire at her opponent. When her spells were neutralized they were quickly replaced. Constantly pressuring Sigobriar she fought through her injuries and perservered. The whispers demanded pain, chaos and destruction and she planned to deliver.

No response was given to him, only a slight smirk as she prepared for another onslaught.


(Mutt)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[22:49] ** Sigobriar has inflicted an injury upon Mutt. ("Temporary Injury", "Temporary Injury", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (4 days)") **
[23:08] Though the woman is silent, as they continue, they are certainly noisy when it comes to battle! The soldiers around them ceased their fighting, watching intensely as the two warrior magi dueled, the storm around them as harsh as ever. Sigobriar is forced to his knees, as the opposing army cheers, with Mutt taking a momentary victory over the man. His breathing is labored, and parts of his armor are burned, leaving him wincing, and rolling his shoulder as he gets back to his feet.

Truly, this warrior was a strong one. Not many in recent memory had pushed him back! He grinned, taking a deep breath and letting out a roaring laughter. "Marvelous! Glorious! Such fire, such heat! I only wish I could call you ally, and share a toast with you after this war is won!", he laughed, hefting his polearm to his shoulder.

He grinned for a few more moments, before his tone became much more serious. A rolling thunder, as Lightning came down like the splashing of rain. In a flash, faster than the blink of an eye, Sigobriar engaged the woman once again. Their fires burned him, stung as Occult met Holy. Yet he fought through it. He was relentless, now. Picking opportune moments to strike, and sections of his body fading to mist as it was targeted by her attacks. His and her soldiers stared in silence, the tension of their fight so dense the crowd nearly choked on it.

After a particularly fierce exchange, the man withdrew into his waters, waiting for her to approach him, as he had seen her do so many times before. When she did, he burst from it to meet her, a spark to his eyes. A fist, clenching and sparking with Holy Lightning, crashed into her arm as she attempted to block him, sending her flying into her ranks, and deadening the arm. A potent shock inflicted on it, that would cause her to not have any feeling or control over the limb.

His soldiers cheered, and the storm seemed to calm, as he turned away from her, once more sheathing his polearm.

"You were a strong adversary... I only hope there is salvation for you in the future. I hope that, we meet again, under better circumstances... And that we can share a drink. Until then, live life to it's fullest, and enjoy your days.", he said, solemnly, before starting to walk away.
(Sigobriar)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[23:42] The surrounding soldiers, their cheer, Sigobriars remark. They were all disregarded. Allowing herself to be consumed by occultic madness and driven by the controlling virus left her barely concious of her actions. It was as if she were filtering out distractions, and in return her reaction speed and efficiency of her magic was heightened. Doubt, restraint, empathy were useless and discarded.

As the battle continued she became more ferocious. She began pounching and lunging at her opponent, not just with her knife and magic, but with elongated claws and sharpened canines. She clawed and bit at the holy magi, seeking to tear him apart without remorse. When she managed to knock Sigobriar to his feet she muttered.

"Not done.."

Calculated decisions were trumped by the beckons of the whispers and her own bloodlust. Although she grew more vicious, greed overwhelmed foresight. Many openings were presented to Sigobriar in her repetitive rampage, and he took each opportunity given. The longer the fight lasted, more patterns would be recognized by both parties.

In one of many engages, Mutt charged forward with a trail of shadowflame following in her wake. Her eyes trained on the warrior's neck. In a flash, her prize disappeared. Without hesitation, she enterred a defensive stance, and within a fraction of a second a fist imbued with holy lighting slammed into her arm, sending excorcistic energy surging through her body. No seconds were spared for even a scream.

The woman's body soared into the crowd of observing allies, toppling many of the specatators who closely watched. Numbness spread through her body and conciousness faded. The troops that still stood hauled Mutt up along with their fallen comrades and rushed away, in search of medical attention.
(Mutt)