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- Sibri stepped forward then, continuing to speak, "She calls me brother because we are of the Old Tribe- their lifeblood runs through us, the ones who sacrificed themselves to become the bridge between the spirits and men. Keh-keh." Approaching the Archon, Sibri stopped some meters away, standing straight.
- One of his hands lifted out and with the motion a blue petal fell out of his sleeve, which then began to encircle him. Another joind it. Then another. "But I am the winter, and she chooses the path of the summer. Keeeh..."
- His leaves were a pale, deathly kind of blue rather than the usual green, and his magical affinity would spread out further as he stood on the spot. The lush grass beneath him turned to a similar shade, and from the soil thin, thorned vines would snake out, moving around Sibri's boots.
- It was a challenge.
- "Come-come. Let me face that power of yours again, Zaruma, to prepare for the battle soon to be. Keh-keh-keh..."
- (Sibri)
- The Archon languidly stared upon the horizon, perhaps pre-occupied with some thoughts; for one reason or another, only about half of his attention still remained within conversation that the Dryad and the Demon shared, listening to what Sibri had to say.
- With acknowledgement, his eyes were briefly closed. It may have been a mistake to let Zyanya go, or appeal to Tragedy's wishes to keep her alive - as it stands, she is very likely an enemy from now on.
- "I see."
- A pair of crimson hues gazed upon surroundings once more, and while overhearing Sibri's approach, they slowly shifted to gaze upon the Dryad. A challenge? Why not.
- "Very well, you shall."
- In a literal instant, the moveless stance of the Archon was broken, revealing impressive speed at which he had suddenly drawn the scythe. Clearly skilled with his weapon, he stared down the Dryad in preparation of the fight.
- And yet, with naught but a cold, unnerving, expressionless gaze.
- "Prepare yourself."
- (Zaruma)
- {RP BATTLE} (COUNTDOWN: 10)
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- Sibri has rolled 2 or over: they may escape capture attempts (unless otherwise specified)!
- The Dryad was certainly an impressive opponent, as far as those who fought Archon go.
- But Zaruma was fabled for his speed in battle, something that Sibri could not oppose - clearly, a combatant that relies on stamina more than acting at the right moment, it was a wrong strategy to pick against the Archon.
- Much like the Tempest itself, he crashed down upon the Dryad with swiftness and strength unbearable to stand against; it was only fitting for Zaruma to fight in such way, for he was nothing else but a Ventus Demon, that who represents the Wind.
- Despite the laid out traps across the battlefield, despite the minions that would aid Sibri, the fight would end in a flash, just the same way it started - there was naught but a silhouette dashing to strike back and forth in the eyes of the Dryad, landing the blows at almost unseen speed.
- One could argue it was almost as if Zaruma could move between the seconds, defying the time itself. Or perhaps he was just that quick?
- With the final blow delivered to take Sibri down, the Archon stood his ground after immediately zapping to it at the same unmatched speed. His gaze was locked upon Sibri, exclaiming.
- "It appears you've fallen, after all."
- (Zaruma)
- Zaruma was a shadow, a phantom that moved without warning or any mortal restrictions, and Sibri could barely keep track of him.
- Each blow had enough force to crack a rib, or slice through his armor and into his flesh. Once the Dryad was forced back, he stood up again, his legs weak, a slight grin on his lips.
- Almost like he enjoyed the pain.
- "More. Keeh. Must practice--against the best. To get stronger, to close the gap."
- (Sibri)
- {RP BATTLE} (COUNTDOWN: 10)
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- You have 2 hours, 50 minutes left until your next check. You currently do not qualify for an RPP reward in the upcoming check.
- The wounds that had opened up on Sibri's skin now let loose a red vapor that empowered him, made him stronger. The miasma of red followed the Dryad, feeding the soil that he stepped on, sending mana to the mandrakes that raced around his feet.
- He was more of a challenge in this state, though he grit his teeth with fury and anger whenever he'd blink or make a single miscalculcation and the Archon was infront of him, stalking him like a phantom.
- He continued.
- (Sibri)
- It appears that the Dryad was slowly getting used on how to fight the Archon.
- Despite the constant flurry of phantom attacks that were hard to even see, a wry smirk on Zaruma's face had soon faded the moment he felt something on his cheek.
- Blood. Purple blood.
- A side-glance through a pair of crimson hues, and he carefully wiped his cheek. It must've been one of the vines that got him and managed to whip across his flesh.
- Zaruma's gaze shifted back towards Sibri. The scythe was prepared once more, and the battle was going to continue.
- (Zaruma)
- {RP BATTLE} (COUNTDOWN: 10)
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- Again they exchanged blows--the thirty seconds or so that Sibri was face to face with the rapid-jabs and slashes of Zaruma's strikes felt like an eternity. His progression and ability to adapt to his opponent's impossibly powerful and fast strikes showed through- he had to plan ahead half a second later, lay his trap before they met each other.
- It was working. Somehow. Yet he still felt outmatched, almost like he was winning by sheer luck alone.
- (Sibri)
- It was always a quick bout.
- Maybe Sibri could have a longer battles versus others, where he could have drawn out fight with tons of time to perform his magic. This? No, no quarter given. Now or never.
- And yet- the Archon had seen himself in a failure, even if temporary. An exchange of blows, and yet he feels pain, and Dryad does not seem to suffer as much.
- That could not be allowed. The Fell Wind was gathering once more.
- (Zaruma)
- Kalista says, "Sibri? When you're done. I got some information to be passed to you."
- {RP BATTLE} (COUNTDOWN: 10)
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- Sibri has rolled 2 or over: they may escape capture attempts (unless otherwise specified)!
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- {RP BATTLE} You have survived combat with only a few minor, superficial injuries.
- {RP BATTLE} YOU HAVE ROLLED 2 OR OVER: You have evaded capture by your enemy! (Unless otherwise specified, your character may escape captivity)
- By the end of their training session, Sibri was exhausted, heaving, bloody and bruised, and the Archon seemed to retain their stamina, able to keep going. But as they fought the Dryad did notice that just like him, they were slowly but surely weakening--even if their body didn't show him.
- Or perhaps he was getting better. Adapting.
- For the most part, Zaruma had the edge, able to dispatch and force Sibri back with a flurry of blows whenever the magi would make the most minor of mistakes. Yet at the end of it all the Dryad managed to gain the upper hand, blasting a spiral of water magic right into the Archon's gut, taking him away.
- Then Sibri fell to one knee promptly after, unable to go any longer. The cracks in his armor, the loss of blood... He looked quite a mess, his gaze obscured by damp, sweaty hair, as he stared toward Zaruma with double-vision, a faint grin beneath him.
- "Have gotten better since we fought in the war, yes-yes? ...Keh-keh. The power of winter is strong. But I am nowhere near harnessing it truly. Yet."
- (Sibri)
- --also didn't see Kalista's post.
- Sibri had glanced toward her, nodding with a curious acknowledgement.
- (Sibri)
- The phantom of the Tempest followed Sibri closely, tracking him in any and every direction he went, if only to unleash the flurry of heavy blows; each was delivered with intent to end the fight as soon as possible, leaving no area for stall or making it any longer.
- Perhaps that was for the best, with a single fact that Dryad was certainly not used to fighting opponents like Zaruma. Only in the end, it took him to actually get used to the fighting style that Tempest possessed.
- And the sudden silhouette of a blow that was aiming to end the fighting - it was denied.
- Water magic had it's way against the Archon, and he was blasted away. Ominously, he floated from the ground upon which his body has fallen, his expression remaining as ever apathetic, save for a slight furrow of his brows.
- There were naught but minor cuts on Archon's body that were visible, however, mainly due to the work of vines that Sibri commanded. Droplets of purple blood werepainted over Zaruma in contrast to Sibri's visage, and Zaruma spoke out.
- "Yes, it seems so."
- "Well fought."
- (Zaruma)
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