Seneca Versus Ryohr 3rd fight

[19:00] Seneca says, "You both know I can see you."
[19:00] Lavinia is a very angry dragon with a missing tail.
(Lavinia Walters)
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[19:01] Seneca is a very poisoned dragon, looks fabulous but also shitty.
(Seneca)
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[19:01] Lavinia Walters says, "Ugh, get that twink."
[19:08] How had he not gotten Seneval's poison treated before this? Idiocy. How had he gotten split up form Ashe and Maria? Idocy. How had he found Ryohr of all people? Now that was pure dumb luck.

Hey, sometimes being an idiot was good for you!

The twink was paler than normal, a sickly pallor, black veins seemed to pulse just under the surface as he fought off the poison. It was painful in so many ways, however, he was here on orders.

"Ryohr! Forgive me for my condition buuuut!" As he spoke he stumbled slightly, shakily pulling free his blade. Notable bent at the center now. "I request you peacefully surrender!"

As he spoke he'd level his blade at the occultist, his silver scales sparkling softly in the torchlight.
(Seneca)
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[19:14] Ryohr stops short when he spots the skinny, feminine boy, Seneca. Golden eyes drift out from that mask and fall upon the condition he was in. Here, within the dark occultic mist on this island, it was harder to see but the poison became obvious. Dreaded black veins, something Ryohr seems to recognise.

"No," he answers shortly, staff still in hand from the previous match. Where blood and gashes lined his robust, armored physique. He points that stave forward, occultic essence firing off his body. Eroding at the land, and permeating this gross stench.

"No more talking," he says. Here, on this island, so many miles from the mainland of Esshar, there'd be no need for convincing dialogues. This was a battle, where Ryohr thrived and so, already does he kick the battle off, with a brash wave of occult that rushes along the area like a crawling vine, seeking to suffocate the area and bury Seneca in the evil magics touch.
(Ryohr)
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[19:21] There it was that wave of raw occultism striking his body viciously. He could feel the orbs striking again and again yet as he stood there. Numbed to the intense pain due to the poison already tainting his bloodstream.

The warrior simply tilted his head down and charged forwards. From seemingly no-where a blunted bone club materialized in his right hand, swinging wide to clap Ryohr in the side of the skull.

Even as it hit the occultism tainting the land sought to connect the poison within his veins to the ground. Occultism to occultism, and it would be with the shedding of his blood that the earth would be nurtured.

"Ryohr! Just! Ease up this really freaking hurts!"

As he roared he'd try and shake off the gravitational well, taking a short step forwards. Closing the cap before he spun, striking the rhyonishman with his tail and sending him back. Gaining the space needed.

"My muscles aren't responding well, I'll hurt you this time countryman. Surrender. Now, I'm not asking."
(Seneca)
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[19:29] It was a chance encounter, in the midst of this large island: Ester. But it would not be their last encounter.

As the battle rages, Ryohr leans into it. Every swing, every firing of magic. Even in loss, Ryohr seems to enjoy it but loss is something that becomes hard to take. It aggravates him and racks him with pain. Drawing forth anger. He becomes more passionate, more spontaneous in the battle, falling victim to the occultist urges.

"You're here on orders. A Knight, a Cadet of the The Last Sight."

Those words leave with a venom laced to their tone. And a raggedy anger. The occultic flame around Ryohr burns dangerously and his fist clenches as he finds his stance firm on the ground. The tail that hit him only stopped him a few metres this time. As his occultic magic flares, the rashes on his arm start to fester, burn, anger is given into and much like a demon, the devil, Ryohr resorts to violence to let it out.

The stave comes down, and gravity spirals down from the sky to start hammering away at Seneca. Steps bring him forward, Ryohr continuing the battle even despite the loss. Even as bone club would strike his skull and the bone of Seneca's blade would crash at his Rhoynish exterior, he steps forward.

"We're no countrymen. We're no friends. We're enemies. And you serve the crown I will break."
(Ryohr)
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[19:31] ** Seneca has inflicted an injury upon Ryohr. ("Temporary Injury", "Temporary Injury", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (4 days)") **
[19:51] Seneca seemed to pause for a moment, blinking as they listened to the hatred. The pure vitriol of Ryohr's words as it shot over him. Those words alone staggered the man, his face contorting in pain as his smile faltered.

Then came the whirlwind of gravity, striking him to the side and into a tree. Cracking the olden oak with it's force. Yet, there was a shift as those tendrils of inky darkness pulsed within the drakanite's veins.

He was poison'd by a Demon.

"You just don't get it! The Rhoynish started the war and now that we lost people like you keep the cycle of hatred and violence going!"

As he screamed his body slowly started to be coat his form. Thick plate's overlocking above his scales, creating a second layer of armor. Then his wing's extended even as the occultism barraged him.

With a great flap of those leather wings he shot forward across the gap. Closing the cap, though this time he didn't seem to hesitate. That bone club came high and struck downwards breaking through Ryohr's defenses. Striking him soundly across the shoulder.

With the shift, the drakanit's body rolled with it a wing shooting out to strike the Rhoynishman again. Then that club came back up into backswing.

"Good people keep dying and you're so coiled up in a conflict that's nearly twenty years in the past!" As he roared that bone club came down, again and again. This was a savage beating, the normally gentle dragon's temper had snapped.

Then with a grunt his leg shot out, kicking the occultist across the clearing towards Lavinia. Slits of violet looked over the body towards the woman.

"Get him to a doctor and when his head stops spinning tell him. Next time? He's coming with me."
(Seneca)
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[19:56] * You have been awarded 1 Roleplay Points! *
[19:59] Ryohr stands there, breathing strained as Seneca careened through the nearby oaken tree, suffering from his first most attack. There's another flap of those large, leather wings and Seneca comes flying in. The bone club comes from up high and strikes down, crashing into Ryohr's form time and time again.

"And who enslaved them? The war's over but my people are not free."

With every swing of bone club, there's the crack of bone and the pounding of flesh. Skin colours a bruised blue-purple and then the wing comes out again, casting Ryohr aside. Another backswing. The Rhoynish man's defences falter, firing off magic that curses along Seneca's form. Then comes the final strike, a kick that boots Ryohr through the clearing of the forest. And hit the ground, they do. Hard.

The miasma of occult that stretched across the island started to clear, showing more of Ryohr's form. They start to stand. Then their form is obscured and they're up, on two legs. They're shaky, still recovering from that violent beating but the mist does well to hide that. A black stretch that covers them. Then, in the blink of an eye, they're gone. Whether taken away or having escaped.
(Ryohr)
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[20:05] Well shit, the dark was going to suffer another loss. Not that it was the worst thing in the world, they weren't here to kick some knight ass, in truth, but it was still worrying.

Just as Lavinia was about to step forward, despite her particularly sore behind, it seemed her colleague had vanished. This would prompt a couple of blinks from the dark dragon, claws retreating near her core as she tried to figure out what to do next.

Emerald eyes veered to the north, giving the drakanite some recognition.

"Mmmm. Got a friend back in Moonfall who is in this same conflict you're talkin' 'bout. What's the deal with it now? Has it not been settled?"

She questioned, keeping her distance. Though the drakanite could leave whatever, because event rules.
(Lavinia Walters)
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[20:12] Those thick bones that coated the drakanite began to fall off onto the ground. They didn't seem to blink when Ryohr vanished into the darkness.

He brought the bone club and flicked it to the side. Letting the stout blunt club hit the ground. Falling to the side with a club. There focus shifted to Lavinia.

"It's a long story, but the clans attacked Esshar. They lost a war they started. Now? People like Ryohr raise blades instead of realizing that all they need do is petition for the laws to be changed. As I will do."

The man's pale skin perhaps hinted that he wasn't a rhoynishman. Perhaps not even a half-blood, yet the golden torc, stylized like a dragon. Curled around his bicep.

"There's demons slaughtering and enslaving the innocent. That's more important than perpetuating a cycle of violence."

With that the man's lips curled a gentle smile settling upon his features. As if the rage he felt, the pain, had been pushed aside.

"My name is Seneca the Fifth, pleasure to meet you miss. I don't see many other Drakanites."
(Seneca)
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[20:18] A bit of a change of pace from the massive mess this expedition was. A missing tail already- That was just infuriating. So a little bit of history channel and philosophy could distract this dragon for a little bit as a form of respite.

"Sounds like a result of half-measures. Should've perhaps simply removed these invaders entirely. Or, if y'wanna feel better 'bout it, purge their history until their grandchildren know nothin', m'hm! The lack of a /solution/ leads to these cycles y'talk about."

She'd attempt to sway her tail as a typical reflex of gesture, only wince in pain and anger. That really fucking stings.

"Now the demons . . . They won't hesitate to exact a solution. Not a half-measure. So, I recommend you start usin' that approach. Although, I s'pose you sorta are with all this black 'n' white perspective many of 'em exarchs are holdin'."

Her thumb pressed against her scaled and clawed index, prompting a particularly loud crack.

"Lavinia. Quite a few in the south, now. Meetin' many these days. It was a drakanite that took my fuckin' tail."
(Lavinia Walters)
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[20:24] The smiling dragon shook his head, chuckling softly at the issue that Lavinia addressed. "Half-measures, you're right. The fight should have ended and the Rhoynish should have been brought into the Kingdom as equals. Brought into the greater clan of Esshar."

He saw it as a lack of compassion, a lack of honor even among warriors. Yet, at the mention of demons the figure let out a soft sigh. "Yes, I know. I've fought many of them. Going to fight more until either those who seek to terrorize Humanity are pushed back or I fall."

The words were spoken with a hint of bitterness. Clearly, unhappy with the way of things but the resolution in his voice backed his words.

"Well, it was good meeting you. I would suggest you get your tail looked at. If it's not regrowing the mana-circuitry might be damaged."

With that he turned and headed off into the distance. His own tail wagging to and fro. Almost excitedly, a hand rose to wave behind him.

"farewell Lavinia, I've a fight to continue."
(Seneca)