vs vanirhallans

There are times when the Corporal grows..

Annoyed. The expression on his face suggests as such- when he wanders out of the caverns, there seems to be naught but an expression that suggests clear disdain with something in particular. No, with someone in particular.

That being Revna.

"Drakanite."

He remarks, without even saying her name- this could be awfully close to their place, but when has the Corporal cared for such things?

"I've been hearing awful lot of things that you were up to. Your whole lot of people, in fact."

"And I think I'm getting a bit fed up with the flimsiness."

Delisle often preferred direct approach as opposed to anything else.

"What is this about you trying to kill Niffty?"

He does not wait for Niffty to speak up, or even say much; he hasn't arrived here because she wished for it to be so.

He arrived here because he wanted to.
(Marcel Delisle)

She tasted defeat one too many times by this lot.. Each time nailed the fact in coffin more and more, she couldn't amount to them! Not in size, not in power.

But it's something she'd have to live with, being under the boot of Osrona.. Like all Razuka's, she's accustomed to it, familiar with failure.

At least she can't get any lower!

"It's this lot that tried t'stop me takin' Anzi, one of'em.."

"Plus I keep gettin' battered on my runs.. Tried t'take my 'ole 'ead n' my new 'ands don't even work.." Those tiny digits splay out toward Marcel, just before dropping once more.

She still shifts, still half in fighting style.
(Niffty)

Revna was fishing, looking rather relaxed before a certain voice ringed thorough her head.. her blue hues turning to the side as the Drakanite spotted Marcel floating as ominously as ever.

"Ah.. It's ya, Marcel!" She exclaimed, looking like she had been looking forward to such a moment to come.

"I wondered how many hurt rats I had to send yer way to get to meet ya out her'" The woman added, quite tauntingly so as she cracked her knuckles and tried get her mind back on the game. Out of all things she expected Marcel to be the very last person to come around this desert, even less at a time like this.

"I'm Sure she'll be doing a lot more dying if she did a whole less running away.. with her tail tucked between her legs."

"But In the end.. we were simply fightin' under the eye of Kark, although I believe us to be at war right now.. so comin' her is only asking for one thing and one thing only.. Trouble" The woman stated as her eyes turned back to Niffty, a rather casual wave being given her way.

"You seem already good to go Eh?.. perhaps you would fancy some new burns here and there?.. you keep avoiding my flames everytime you flee."
(Revna Hartvigsen)

The Vanirhallan was mostly waiting on this calm day around their Outpost, eating some interesting dish made by his cook with some of Esshar's unique goods. It was one of the most different and tasteful meals this man ever had in his life. Which in all honesty wasn't a lot- Since all he ate in his life was fish.

"We didn't try to stop you from taking Azni. I couldn't care less about that woman."

He seemed honest, calmly finishing his meal as he were to turn around. Revna was acting under his orders to begin with, so none of this wasn't expected from the strategist.

"I was actually waiting for Nidaz and not you, Marcel. But I think explanations are not needed, when the Razuka already told you what you needed to know."

The man got up from his seat, jumping down towards the sand. Despite the obvious aggressiveness of Revna, Siegmund seemed far more focused and even calm.

"You lot are as bad as Osrona. The only difference is that you wear black."
(Siegmund Rune)

Revna Hartvigsen assumes the Caster stance!

Curious.

Were they all so entangled in making bed with their enemies, and securing whatever flimsy loyalties that they've forgotten the true might of the Empire that could sweep them off their feet?

"I think you misunderstand."

"Niffty is my best friend. She's the only loyal friend that has stayed true until the very last.."

"Whereas others, like you, keep changing your tune to whatever benefits you now."

Much like buddying with the new Champion of Eos that came around for drinks.. or even buddying with pirates, whom they claimed to hate. There's no other reaction other than a drawn sword.

Vseron.
The Primordial Blade.

"And what's more.."

"Niffty is a rat. And you? You're vermin."

With such difference implied, there's no further talk to be had; the terrifying lightning shroud surrounds him, and the smell of ozone and brimstone becomes all too evident.

Revna doesn't even understand the offense she made against Marcel.

But he'll make her understand.

With this violence, with this bloodshed... with how this blade immediately strikes at her.

No hesitation.
(Marcel Delisle)



Marcel Delisle has engaged Revna Hartvigsen in Dangerous combat, with a capture roll of 2


Revna had none much else to say, as a fight was soon to break out.. hearing his words she simply kissed her teeth and decided to humor him to a fight. No matter how strong the man would be, She wasn't one to shy away from combat. And she haven't done the such. Ever.

"This' will be a fight under the eyes of Kark.. so ya better not dissapoint', Marcel.. I been looking forward to fightin' you again ever since that day"

She said, her mana being channeled as heat begun to pick up in the air.. Her light-blue hues flaring up as the Drakanite stood in front of him, In all her might.

"Let's see who's the vermin here.. Lets not waste anymore time."
(Revna Hartvigsen)

Marcel dipped off to do his.. Niffty jumped off to do hers.

A squeaky roar to follow, yet her size remaining the same, diving straight into Siegmund! "AGH, y'compare us t'Oz but yer switching and ditching sides all t'time!" She's all over him in no time.

Gripping tightly with those sharp nails, pulling herself all over his large form.. Even chomping down in odds spots over the man, chewing and pulling at his flesh, a right, ratty cannibal. "Y'think cuz I's SMALL y'can ignore me, eh?!" Reference to how he gunned straight for Marcel, overlooking the razuka.

"Y'think I can just be IGNORED!" It's as if she's ridding him at a point.. Gripping the back of his head between her thighs, hands reaching on back to grab at either one of those monstrous wings. "These are too big.." Then she saps them.

/Withers/ them .. In a sense.

Her bare control over time magic ages them, sapping out all the youth and healthy magic they have.. The point of attack are the wigs themselves, so they shrivel.. Dissipating slightly.. Becoming weaker than they truly are.

"Go-on..! Fly off, baby wings!" She had a fat mouth, mostly in victory.

That's where he has his moment to toss her off, escape any final blow she decides to take.. And by then? He can just see Revna being grounded by the Corporal himself.
(Niffty)



Marcel Delisle has lost 12 vitality from this battle for three hours.

{RP BATTLE} You have WON the battle!

Revna Hartvigsen has sustained an injury in battle...

Revna Hartvigsen has rolled 2 or under: they may be captured!


Powerful lightning and winds.

Has Revna forgotten him? Has she forgotten the Corporal, all that he's capable of, all that he could do to her? Does she not remember the terrible lightning that burned her once... the very same lightning that terrified not only his foes alike, but at times, even his allies?

She becomes struck by it..
Struck in a manner like never before.

Perhaps the Drakanite has grown- but Marcel grew even much more. The testament to such fact is found in how badly she gets struck, in how the winds shred her.. for as much as she burns him clearly, it does not amount to as much as he hurts her.

This strength is a lot..
Too much for her.

But Marcel stays eerily silent, focused throughout the process- he does not utter a taunt or even a single word throughout entire process, staying silent throughout the battle; perhaps, what once was fuelled by pain and emotion, now he's fuelled by something else.

The cold, relentless fury.
For the audacity of trying to take away Niffty from him.

Revna puts up an amazing fight- so much so that she comes closer to defeating him than many more people out there. If anything, the burns become all too palpable upon his frame- yet, he perseveres. This endurance allows him to bring her down, the lightning and winds alike channelled by the Primordial relic once taken away from the Saint of Osrona.

It's too much.

Injured she lay, defeated and brought down. Here, he becomes a manifestation of that raw strength that comes before her- amidst this kicked up dust and the dark of the battlefield, there's an ominous, approaching sound..

Thud..
Thud.
THUD!

The boots of the Achyon military. The boots of the Imperial might- the sound of not only potential death, but defeat all the same. Here, she may realize at last...

The dire mistake she made.


"You made an attempt at her life- at my life."

"Brave, perhaps... but ill-conceived."


The Drakanite is approached towards, until eventually the mighty boot is settled upon her- right on her throat. She could feel it become difficult to breathe.

Difficult to talk..

And the voice calls out.


"Siegmund!"

"Come out. You said that we're not better than them. But see, pal, this is where you're wrong.."

"We're much worse than them - because we're actually a force to reckon with."


As much as his voice calls out in the manner to be heard across the lands of battle, his eyes begin to scan around, looking for the other drakanite.


"Come out and beg for her life."

"Or else, I'll crush her windpipe."


(Marcel Delisle)

Revna was bested, it was all detrimentally clear under the eyes of Kark.. as the weight of honorable combat became too large under the reckoning of the corporal.. Only a few swats of such tumultuous winds striking her down ever so vigorously as her body was rend and scarred beyond any measure, her body barely managing to stay up-right as the sands raged on.

Soon enough her fram would meet the glassy ground, ash.. magma.. fumes, everything dying down as the Drakanite met her match and much more.. She always gave it her all on the field of battle. As failing to do so couldn't very much mean a quick end.

The man's steps drew closer as she tried to drawn her strength outwardly, but nothing heeded her call. Kark wasn't pleased with her. She had never been honorably right if her end was to be met by the Achyionite.

Yet it seemed like her pride was not the only thing that was going to be tainted today.. as he calls out for Siegmund and poses his boot on her throat she only wishes for him to stay resolute, She was one of many Vanirhallan's to come.. as their leader the man must not waver. She was about to say something but could only weakly mouth it. Her light-blue hues wide open as it seemed like her head was coming. And there was nothing she could do about it, other than wait for her judgement.
(Revna Hartvigsen)

The Drakanite was utterly crushed by the rat. As per usual, the man had an unusual hard time against those able to twist their bones as weapons. His cosmic mana failing him, his domain over metal being teased and almost ignored by the woman in front of him.

"Switch sides? No. You picked your fucking side after threatening us. You picked your side when several of your cogs came to my home, telling me that you would burn it down, for the 'glory of the Empire and Humanity'."

As he half-quoted what Nidaz told him a year or so ago. His blood dripping from his ears, nose and mouth. A defeated warrior, that still had the will to fight despite being so weak as of now.

However, their behavior and what Niffty said clearly showed something to him.
The Pirate opened his mouth.
He wouldn't forget this.

Even defeated, he glanced towards Revna, listening to Marcel's words as he were to defeat the woman. It was obvious what he intended to do with those words, as Siegmund slowly made his way to Marcel. Blood dripping by the sand, creating a path of carmine dust behind him.

"Beg..?"

The man would chuckle, coughing after due to the effort he was making. His wings distorted, old and failing to function. The sheer fact he was still able to manifest them was a miracle by itself.

"I fear no machine-"

A sudden burst of Cosmic energy, obviously he was 'overclocking' his body in order to keep his body awake. Ready to fight, even if barely.

"-I only DESTROY them!"

The Drakanite's eyes shining in a swift red gaze, the anger boiling his blood from inside out. A Vanirhallan summoning the wrath of Kark himself into his body- On a last attempt to save his kin.

"If Revna is to die, so be it! She will die a warrior's death, by the hands of a worthy foe as Kark, our lord, intended! And even with her death, even with MY death, there is NOTHING stopping me to keep following my faith, my oath! And the ones that come after me will make sure to keep it!"

He held to his staff, bloody eyes ready to engage the Magi.

"May your bodies continue to fall!
May your limbs be torn from your torso!
And may the battlefield be soaked red, WITH OUR BLOOD!!"

Any other option would taint Revna's honor as a warrior. Even if it meant to lose her, he would rather have her die than 'beg' for her life. Such is the way of the Triumvirate. A battle was to ensue.
(Siegmund Rune)

Cold, steely eyes.

They watch the man caked in crimson and desperate for his comrade's life strive towards him. Only in the moments like these can he truly see the nature behind one's masks - for as much as they might claim otherwise, it applies true to everyone.

They all wear masks.

Even now, with his boot on Revna's throat, he would not beg; even now, with her life on the line, he would not relent. There's something to be admired here.. and even if they may be enemies, Marcel assesses him carefully.

Never once does he lose his cool..
Calculated, strategic.
Filled with cold fury.

Years of treachery, pain and tests have turned Marcel into a man of sheer will and unfathomable determination- yet even a man like him could grow territorial, oft even emotional.. especially in the times such as the lingering threat for someone he values - the very woman he fought for in the first place.

"You have a warrior's heart."

"In your darkest hour, you move forward - even if I can tell that you're scared for her life."

"Anxious. Stressed."

He could tell... because if Niffty were to fall? He would feel the same way- yet, the sword of the Primordial is drawn once more; what is shown to him now would be the strength of something great, the strength that could drive the Empire forward.

"In the past, you faced Gods, Vanirhallan." For they praise them all the time- they revere them, follow their ways.

"But now.."

"You face a Man."

Terrible, furious lightning gathers once more.. a replica of the storm he feels deep inside. Here, Siegmund could taste..

The true catastrophe.
(Marcel Delisle)



{RP BATTLE} You have WON the battle!

Siegmund Rune has sustained an injury in battle...

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



There is power that unfolds before him.

The power of the Drakanite that he could respect- but on the battlefield, respect is cast away in favour of the pure, raw combat. For every sting of metal that he feels, for every drop of blood that he's forced to bleed..

Siegmund is made to bleed as well.
Through winds.. only to be burned with lightning.

Can't you feel your heart beat faster? Can't you feel how it quickens in the moments such as these? Where two bloodied, wounded warriors collide, it becomes a test of endurance as much as it is the test of the will and strength alike. There could be no resolution without this.

They're far beyond that point.

Yet Delisle seems almost... surprised amidst such fighting- the powerful magics of metal and cosmic alike oft corner and pierce him, wounding him deep.. but Siegmund soon finds that the barrier of ion he's capable of is something that becomes all too difficult to pierce.

The strength that brought down Revna..
Now focused onto him.

Resolute and focused. He directs his sword with precision and might, and in the final exchange of powerful blows, he finds himself unable to cast away Marcel anymore- he finds himself brought low, with the final shot of thunder fired..

From up close.

Sent tumbling away, and with knockback powerful enough to rend his flesh, it becomes a permanent scar on his side- he may recover from this wound eventually, but a reminder would be planted forever. The reminder of his failure..

The reminder of Revna's death.

"You fight well. With glory and pride. But..." Soon, he turns- his wounded visage trails off towards Revna instead, the sword's blade placed right above her heart; while she's defeated and brought low, he remarks.

"Glory and pride fades into bloodstains on the battlefield."

He should understand what this means- he should know what's going to happen next.


"You failed to save her. You failed to meet my demands."

"But you fought like a warrior."

"So I'll allow you a warrior's farewell, this once."

"Say your goodbyes to one another, while you can."


Because there won't be a second chance. There won't be another time.

Not ever.
(Marcel Delisle)

What more can the little rodent do.. But watch? No taking part, no silly pot shots.. But just watch.

The drakenite put up so much of a fight for his family, it's quite respectable to her.. But only to an extent, the rest of the razuka was as scummy as can be.. She held grudges like any other.

So in sight of all this, she finds herself waddling up, pistol drawn and at the ready by her hip side, trained on the second defeated Viking.

On her face? A smile. A wide grin even.

No words.
(Niffty)

The Drakanite was clearly weakened, but she refused to simply collapse as Siegmund gave his everything in the battlefield. Everything was a bit of a daze as the tip of a familiar sword was held upon her chest and the woman grinned softly as she head his words.

Her gaze turned to the side as Revna coughed up a faint hint of blood.. one of her hands swaying as she seemed to be reassuring the man that everything was okay.

"Hel'.. Siegmund, Watching you fight like that.. I can rest assured that.. I die with no regrets.." The woman said, was she simply lying, or perhaps she had came to terms with the results of such a duel.

The woman chuckled lightly, her voice raspy as her eyes kept gleaming as fervently as ever. If she was to die she would simply do so proudly. Not cowering, Not begging for her life, but fully expecting death and taking it its grasp, Only to be rejoined with her Divine three. Perhaps she didn't quite became an Eternal Warrior herself, but there was little room for such things now. This was it.

"If you are with them'.. I can die proudly.. out her'.. Knowing that my kin is in good hands, Under the watchful eye of Kark.. I die a warrior's death.. Ye better'.. ugh.. Make me proud' out ther'.. Or I'll be back to haunt'cha or some shit.. Haha!"

The woman said as she gathered her strength up and moved back onto her feet.. nice and slowly, her body refusing to give up although she didn't appeared to be intending to extend their bout. She was to die while standing on her very own two feet, Not kneeling like some little lamb.


(Revna Hartvigsen)

It was obvious.

Siegmund knew far too well that he wasn't able to defeat Marcel with his current injures. Even without them, it would still be a fight far too difficult for him to win. But this wasn't about winning, nor it was about saving Revna- Even of achieving those two were a consequence of his true reasoning to fight Marcel.

The man was barely kept conscious, as his body was sent far by a lightning bold from the Achyonite. His vision was blurry, with this being the closest to death he ever got while on Esshar. The taste of his own blood tainting his mouth and clouding his mind, the cold embrace of the crimson river flowing by his skin.

At first, he was extremally agitated, the adrenaline pumping the Vanirhallan to keep going- But then it just.. Stopped. The gaze being slowly turned to see Revna, with him barely even understanding some of the words being spoken by the cog.

Suddenly, his blue runic tattoos were brightly shining. Obviously not from his own mana, but from some sort of external source. He coughs, lightly, as he attempts to speak as loud as he could- Even if it wasn't loud at all.

"I.. Siegmund Rune.. Swear this oath.."

His very mind attempting to give up, his body failing to comply. But his soul wouldn't allow it. He was to be awake.

"..I promise to live for both of us. To praise for both of us. To love for both of us. I will keep my oaths, and yours, as if they were my own."

Yet another cough. As it seems, his mind was finally giving up.

"..May your soul live within mine, until it is my time to go."

And thus.. He falls asleep. The tattoos stopped their glow, as the oath was made.

"Goodbye, Revna.."
(Siegmund Rune)

Bittersweet goodbyes.

Marcel was a resolute, focused, determined warrior and a patriot... and he always knew what he must do in order to further the advancement and progress of the Empire; to lose people like Niffty would be a detriment that he cannot afford- to lose to outside sources in such manner would be unacceptable.

The Empire always marches forth.
With stalwart, heavy boots.

He allows this closure for them both- for while he might be their enemy.. he isn't entirely heartless. He isn't entirely a monster either... and as much as they can shed each other's blood, the moral code of the warrior is something he could still adhere to.

But..


"There was a time to save her."

"But you did not take it."


She comes to a stand, but Delisle knew all too well that she'd be unable to turn away,to run- she's far too weak to do that. Here, Vseron is drawn once more, shimmering with its brilliance and power of the Primordial God...

It shimmers with potency and strength alike.


"Know this, Vanirhallans."

"When we first arrived to your doorstep, there was never an intent to put you down. There was never an intent to tame you all - never an intent to take from your people."

"But the lot of you would never stop being a thorn in our side."


A flick of the sword he holds, and his gaze turns towards Revna- here, there's only a pause..


"You brought this on yourselves."



Schling!


…

…

A moment of silence. There's hardly any pain.. likely due to immense shock that her body sustained- yet she could find the sword driven straight through her chest, through her heart; there are only mere seconds to live, until..

Her body inevitably gives out,
and it's taken by the Corporal.

Stained with crimson, the ground and blade alike.. it is a testament to yet another crime that Marcel did. It is a testament to yet another life taken..

By him.


"Know this, Vanirhallans.."

"You won't know rest, until you repent."


They know what they did. But does he expect them to come forward with it? Of course not..

He knows there will be reckoning.

He knows there will be blood..

And he's ready for it.
(Marcel Delisle)