6/24 The Ultra Smash

 The Gehennan tilted his head to the side, as he hopped down from the Volcano and into the snowy forest that lay in the to the east of it. "Spirits, it's been too long since I've seen snow..." He'd mumble to himself as he made his way through the snow.

With a grin on his face, he'd casually strut through the snow, his eyes darting around incase someone stumbled across him. It wasn't everyday that he got to visit such a beautiful location, and spirits he was going to do his best to enjoy it.

Sadly his leisure stroll through the snow wouldn't last nearly as long as he had hoped it would.

Tilting his head to the side, the blacksmith reached backed back, resting his right hand on his staff. Opting to not draw it yet. Green hues stared down at the approaching man.

He noticed three things immediately. Metalic skin, bald head, and an eyepatch. He wasn't sure who this manwas, but clearly he was a powerful being.

"Oh boy, and here I was hoping to have a nice stroll through the snow." A small sigh escapes from his lips. "Though I suppose that's probably not going to happen." Spoke the clearly Gehennan man.

Of course he could attempt the classic "I'm from Crafthold" line, but odds are that wasn't going to work here.

Oh well.
(Saba)

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 Ser Artaghh would hover quietly through the snow deep in thought, puffing away idly on his corn cob pipe as he tried to clear his head of the ringing barrage of thoughts that had flooded it. The frigid breeze of the north was one of the few things that kept the man centered after all these years, helped steel his mind against the ever present, lingering madness of the occult that wove itself into every fiber of Dawn's being.

The black armored knight's autonomous press forth through the snowy wastes was halted by a strange sight. A very strange sight indeed. What was a Gehennan doing this far north, were they lost or mad? The knight of the Green Hill sighed idly as he slowly drew his black blade from the rungs upon his backplate, gripping its handle tightly between his burn scarred, bandaged hands before pointing the tip of the greatsword at Saba across the field of snow.

"I am Ser Artaghh, knight o'ta Green Hill. An' it seems tha' neither'a us are gettin' our nice stroll through the forest. Next bes' thing is a glorious battle, aye?"

The commander would grimace as he ignited forth in a blazing, shimmering blue shroud of rich, dense mana, his musculature bulking forth with mass as the spectral coils of energy from the spirit realm wrapped around his musculature like a familiar blanket, a bulwark of the mystic arts. The matte black of his plate armor phased translucently as Artaghh took a deep, centering breath of the icy wind, acclimating fully to the mystic mana before bowing his head respectfully to his Gehennan opponent.

"I'll spare ye' the long list'a titles, I'm nae cruel."
(Artaghh)
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 A small smile spread across his face, as he nodded his head. "Aye, I suppose you have a point, fighting is usually a wonderful thing." The smile grew wider as he watched the dense shroud of blue mana surround Ser Artaghh. So the rumors were true, he really was a master of energy magic.

Good.

He needed to test how his energy compared to a masters, that and he gets to fight the commander of the legion. So this is a win, win... Right?

Convergence point, after convergence point were tapped into as he brought forth the dormant mana that rested in them, as a shroud of golden energy surrounded the smith.

Inch by inch the aura began to move closer and closer to Saba, as he began to weave his mana into his adrenaline, until an all too familiar second layer of golden skin appeared around him.

"Sadly, I don't have any titles to bore you with." He'd say as his green eyes were replaced with golden orbs of energy. "Hopefully a good fight will make up for that."
(Saba)
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 Ser Artaghh would face the young energy aspirant without another word. No, battles such as this between men did not require goading or fanfare, pointless taunting. Energy was his domain no matter how many crippling injuries he sustained, regardless of how painful the slow progress of entropy upon his aging body became. The knight had dedicated his entire life to refining his mastery of the ethereal; there'd be no purpose to it if he simply allowed his talents to wither away with age.

And so they fought. With resounding clanks of stave against sword, sparks of blue fire scattering around the pair as Artaghh engaged the energy magi in glorious combat. They weren't Gehennan and Valmasian, tribal and knight, no; this dance upon the snowfields had become one between master and student, and embittered battle was the only class the mithril paladin knew how to teach. Yet, confusion held upon the swordsman's face as he saw Saba we've spells with his staff, spreading flames across the snowy field in spite of the frigid chill of the tundra-esque north. Each great swing of his black blade against the Gehennan's staff was met not with a challenge of brawn, but waves of flame and energy.

It confused him.

Brought briefly to his knee by the coiling flames as the overconcentration of heat overwhelmed the knight, Ser Artaghh would plant his greatsword into the crumbly snow to force himself back up with a grimace, pointing one bandaged finger directly at Saba as he began to continue pacing towards him. Energy magic was a physical art, and yet this spellweaver had mimicked Artaghh's own movements, clashed burst of condensed mana against burst.

"Mmm, ye' are proficient in energy magic. Bu' yer form's all wrong. "

Pacing forth across the battlefield directly towards the Gehennan as he slowly reslung his great blade once more upon his back,the knight of the Green Hill would spread his arms with cheer as he walked directly towards one of Saba's incoming, great balls of pyroclasmic fire, shutting his eyes with a smile as he walked directly into the flames without fear.

Phasing right through them as he disappeared.

"Energy is a physical art, remember tha' an' ye'll be a master in no time."

Apparating from the spirit realm as he finished the last, practiced movements of the transcendent step, his right arm grew swollen three times over in mass with a grit of his teeth, his hidden mana circuitry sparking luminously through the mystic's translucent skin as the sparking lines of energy curled around his bulging bicep like a fiery tattoo. Disproportionate from the rest of his augmented musculature, it was almost as if Artaghh had put all of his might into one effort.

A punch unlike any other that sent the kinetic force of an avalanche directly into Saba's back.
(Artaghh)
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 Golden energy formed in the Super Magi's hands, as he dashed away from the Mythril Paladin. This wasn't going to be an easy fight, he knew that from the very begging, and odds are he wasn't going to win. Which was to be expected, however.

Victory wasn't the goal here.

He'd send the orb of golden energy spiraling towards, Artaghh, only to find it connect with one of Artaghh's orbs of energy.

Golden and blue energy mixed together as the two went back and forth, sword clashing with stave, over and over again. Each strike from Artaghh got heavier and heavier, as the weight of the man's blade came crashing down onto his staff. Saba gritted his teeth, as flames began to pour out from the man, easily melting the snow.

Wave after wave of fire was sent spiraling at Artaghh, yet it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough. Each wave of fire and energy that came from him was met by Artaghh's unmatched brawn. Though there was one opening, something about the Paladin seemed off, almost as if he was confused by something. How...

Strange

With a quick wave of his staff, a massive wave of searing hot fire was sent spiraling towards the man, crashing into him and briefly taking him down to a knee. Though it was then that something peculiar happened. Upon returning to his feet the commander of the legion pointed a finger at him. Why? Why the hell would he do that?

His finger point was met with a wave of golden energy, one that was swiftly counted by a wave of Artaghh's blue energy. Saba tilted his head to the side as the man spoke.

"Not trying to tell you how to live your life here, but giving advice during the middle of a battle isn't the brightest of ideas."

A smile had been plastered across his face for as long as the fight had been going. Spirits this was fun. Was this what Tototl felt when he fought Freya? His fights with Kabu and Declan were always fun, but this? This was something else entirely. This was two masters of energy magic going back, and forth trying to prove who knew their craft.

With one quick motion Saba smashed the bottom of his staff into the ground, as he sent a wave of flames at the now unarmed Artaghh. Normally one might feel insulted by your opponent suddenly putting their weapon away, but Artaghh wasn't a fool. That much became apparent to him during their fight. He was planning something.

Saba slowly opened his mouth, but it wasn't so he could speak, no it was for something far more glorious than that. If he was going to defeat him, it was going to be by using everything he could, and betting it all on one more attack. He just needed to land it... The golden energy that surrounded his body began to amass in front of his mouth, as a orb of golden energy began to form.

Yet something was off, Artaghh wasn't in the fire anymore, nor could he see him anywhere else on the battlefield. Where the hell had he disappeared to? That question was answer far sooner than he had expected it to be. He heard Artaghh before he saw him.

Before he even had time to react Artaghh's oversized, and overcharged fist came crashing into his back. Every muscle he had tensed up, as not even the last minute barrier of holy, and energy magic were able to save him. They were both shattered, Instntly.

The energy that he had amassed in front of his mouth was released into the air, as he was sent flying away from the Knight of the Green Hill, flying though the air, until he eventually crashed into the ground, where he slid across the snow until he came crashing into the side of the mountain, cratering the side of it.

Every fiber of his being was screaming out in pain, as he fell out of the crater, the golden shroud that surrounded him began to fade away, as did his consciousness.

No, not yet, it wasn't over just yet, he could still win! Those words repeated themselves in his mind, as he slowly pushed himself to his feet, golden orbs still burning brightly around his eyes. A small pained chuckle escaped from his lips, as he spoke.

"I-Is... That all... You got?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the aura that surrounded him faded away, as he collapsed into the snow. He had lost this fight, but he had gotten exactly what he had wanted out of it. He had managed to keep up with Artaghh, the commander of Dawn's Legion in a fight.

His energy was only a little bit behind the commanders, and given enough time he'd surpass it.

But, sadly, the day he surpassed him wasn't today.
(Saba)
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 Ser Artaghh would heave with exhaustion from his rot scarred lungs as he fell to his knees, sweat beading upon his burn scarred forehead as he grunted from the sheer exertion of energy he'd brought forth in this great smash. For a knight who made his whole career in going too far for his body, the development of an attack so powerful using it weakened even himself seemed almost natural for the swordsman.

Yet, this had been the first real battle in years, and the process had always been theoretical, an exertion of rage or a life saving maneuver. Yet, in the heat of battle after years of melancholy from his physical decline, he had manifested the apex of energy magic the only and best way he knew how. By breaking every limit he had and smashing his opponent with all he had. Yet, he could already tell that it had costs.

Glancing at his shriveled right arm, seemingly emaciated and dangling limply by his side, he nodded to the fallen Saba with a weak smile and a manly thumbs up. It had been a good fight, and one that had made Ser Artaghh feel alive for the first time in years. This boy would not die in Dawn's dungeons this day as long as he lived.

"Alrigh', I'm terrible a'directions an' like'ta ge' me'self killed if I try'ta fin' Ohtli's house. Ye' lead me there, an' we're square lad."
(Artaghh)
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 Slowly glancing up from the snow, the semi-conscious Saba stared down the Commander of Dawn, who seemed to be giving him a thumbs up? It seems like he had enjoyed the fight as much as he had, which was a good thing, yea? Probably.

"O-Ohtli's?" He'd say as he slowly pressed his hands onto the cold snow. "Y-Yea, I suppose... I could take you there."

Using what little strength he had in him, he'd push himself back up to his feet. His knees wobbled as his green hues rested on Artaghh. "Though, I think I need to ask this..." He'd pause for a moment, as he inhaled some of the cold air, before coughing.

Spirits, it hurt to breathe.

"Why do you wish to see her?" He'd ask as he gripped his staff once more. If Artaghh planned on harming her, he'd have no choice, but to attack him, even if it meant he'd die.

Then it hit him.

Ohtli had mention the Commander of Dawn before, specifically when they had brought Feth to the tower. She had spoken as if the man in front of him was a friend. The grip on his staff lightened as a small sigh escapes from his lips.

"Right... Follow me."

(Saba)
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 Saba says, "R-Right, this Ohtli's nest..."
 Saba says, "I think I saw her ontop of the tower... If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll grab her."
 Saba asks, "Also... Was that Declan standing out there?"
 Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "I believe so...I don't know why he's skulking outside like that."
 Saba says, "Strange."
 Ohtli starts down the stairs with Saba, grumbling about some degenerate Sarradian on her lawn.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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 Artaghh says, "So cold Ohtli. He's nae tha' bad."
 The Elder stiffens ramrod straight, her head turning towards the bald knight at her table. A thin, reserved smile stretches her lips.

"I see what Saba meant about a 'surprise'," she replies, slowly making her way down the rest of the stairs. Lest she break her hip.

"Spirits, I didn't think you'd actually come at this rate."
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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 Ser Artaghh would sit cozily upon the chair with a relaxed shrug and an innocent expression, shrugging his plated shoulders as he barked out in mirthful laughter while rising to pace before the old bird with a light grunt of exertion. It had taken a good chunk out of him to punch a Gehennan into a mountain, and the knight was thoroughly exhausted.

"Wha' can I say Ohtli. I ge' los' very easily, I needed a guide! I ge' lost real easy like. I ended up in Huang wit' ma shirt off when I was a knight if ye' recall."

Without further delay, the mystic would embrace the elder drakan in a firm, but reasonable and attentive to Ohtli's brittle bones, embrace. It had been far too long since he'd seen his bird mother.
(Artaghh)
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 A small chuckle escapes from Saba's lips, as he slowly makes his way towards the table where Artaghh sat. "O-Ow... It hurts to laugh..." He'd mumble to himself as he slid the chair out from the table, and simply sat down.

He'd offer his usual goofy smile to Ohtli, as he attempted to smile through the pain... To some less than stellar results, but hey, he tried. Surely that has to count for something.

"Aye, I figured the surprise would be better."
(Saba)
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 The Drakan returns the embrace with gusto, and thankfully he's mindful of her ever weakening bones. She might look good for eighty on the outside, but her physical form falls prey to the same pitfalls of age as all other mortal things do.

"I recall you being foolish well enough- please, sit...I take it you got my message from Arlei. It's good and surprising you're here...considering I'm sure you already know Feth is gone."

It's almost like you have to leverage people with the kidnapping of their loved ones to see them anymore.

When she takes a seat beside Saba again she extends out a hand to his shoulder. It's not healing, but her magic is calm and soothing. A temporary fix for his aching bones.

"All the same..it's good to see you both."
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)

-Hours of politics, scolding, and hot chocolate later...

Ser Artaghh would take a deep breathe as he meditated atop Ohtli's tower within the spirit woods, the fresh, entirely unoccultic air and ethereal presence like a nice spring day after all the brooding despair and dark energy of Dawn. The knight felt at peace for the first time in years away from all of the grim duty and service. It had been chipping away at the commander piece by piece, and he only had so much left to give.

But today had proven something important to him, reestablished his manly gusto and reignited a flame in the bald swordsman that had thought perhaps his fighting days were through. But against young Saba, he had pushed his limits once more, broken another boundary after years of stagnation. His muscles remembered the motions of that punch that had felled the boy, where all his of his energy was put into the mass of his right arm in a cataclysmic smash. His muscle fibers had been exhausted beyond there limits five times over for just a few moments, his circuits showing bright through ethereal muscle with a sapphiric surge rivaling reiki's flare.

He had done it once, and he could do it again.
(Artaghh)

Ser Artaghh would shut his remaining eye as he began to cross his legs, levitating upwards with a familiar manifestation of gravity magic as the knight began to silently meditate upon something he'd wished to do for a very long time. Nothing at all. The knight commander had been overburdened by countless tragedies in Dawn, crippled by injuries, age, and depression from the countless brothers and sons he'd lost. Some quiet meditation in a peaceful ghost forest was the closest thing he was ever going to get to a vacation on the god forsaken island.

Quietly, the knight would gather mana from his surroundings as his ethereal shroud of dense, rich energy steadily coalesced about his person, his familiar shroud almost a second skin after so many decades of training and meditation in its ghostly swathe. His circuitry felt overstrained even from that one smash, and a bit of rest and relaxation while restoratively flowing energy passively through yourself never hurt. Yes, nothing sounded ideal.

He had seized strength, at a cost.
(Artaghh)