10-28-2015, 09:12 PM
He was literally the deadliest wizard of all Sarda, and here he was pitted against an overgrown elf with sea-shaded hair who sported a hard leather codpiece over his lavender trousers. The man carried himself with the air of an experienced wizard, but his coy expression revealed his arrogance. The man was a murderer, of children in his last match no less, and the Black Mage spared no quarter for such villainy.
Or at least that was something confident and heroic that Fighter would want him to say. Truth be told the Black Mage had found himself in a terrifying bout of magic, surrounded by a mish-mash of demonic caverns and space-age architecture hovering over a pit of virulent and repugnant sludge. His foe was quick, powerful, yet patient, giving the Black Mage enough time to vault himself over the metal railing and bring himself to a stand.
"Heh. Well done Scarecrow." He taunted, before his thumb pressed onto the metallic cylinder held in his hand, causing a distinct snap-hiss to ring as the crimson blade of energy was released, emitting a low hum as the Magus put up a devilish grin. Only a stride away he leapt forward with a diagonal slash. Backed against the wall the Black Mage attempted to dart to the side and evade the blow, but his opponent's quickness was equal to his own, and the Black Mage suffered a blow to right forearm. Rather than feeling a simple cut or bash however the Warrior of Light was met with a burning sensation that scorched through his coat and left a second degree burn. Gnashing his teeth from the pain he willed himself to spin his wrists as he backpedaled.
"Wind, flowing, never tame, throw my foe and give him pain!" He grunted as he pulled his palms together, fingered outstretched as the epicenter of a small vortex, throwing his opponent backwards. Not one to be caught offguard the Magus disappeared from reality before he touched the ground, wind still pushing past where he should have been. The last time he had disappeared like this the young wizard had found himself launched by a well-placed hay-maker so the Black Mage decided to rush forward into a downward slide as he chanted.
"Sickening grasp, spread your poison. Bio!" Magic coursed through the Black Mage as a small pustules and boils began to form at either of the Black Mage's hands, draining out of him before coming together to form a bubble of a tainted green hue. The Magus then reappeared, around two meters past where the Black Mage was before he disappeared. The Warrior of Light threw one bubble at his shins with his left, then one with his right aimed in a straight shot at his chest, hoping to hit one way or another. His foe's reaction was quick enough to evade the first strike, but acid tore through cloth on the next, corroding into his body a few seconds later. The Demon-Lord chortled as the small incantation presented it's meager first-hand effects, inflicting little in the way of immediate pain.
"You've some skill scarecrow, but you've no idea the power of true magic." He said before his body erupted in a mauve stained inferno, knocking the Warrior of Light to the other end of the catwalk and setting portions of his cloak and cowl ablaze. Frantically the Black Mage threw off his outer robe as he rose back to a stand, revealing a tattered thin white undercoat, and the Black Mage's gaunt ebony form underneath. With the heavier clothes removed it was also easier to spot the constant wax and wane of his chest in accordance with his breathing. He was in pain all across his body, but he couldn't give up. If the six swords and seductive flames of the Fiend Marilith could not best him than neither should this wizard, no matter how dark his arts.
"Water, chilled, sharpened, strong. ICE!" The Black Mage roared and began slinging ice dart after ice dart at the fiendlord. If he magic could not best his opponent's through sheer might, perhaps it could through suppressive fire.
Or at least that was something confident and heroic that Fighter would want him to say. Truth be told the Black Mage had found himself in a terrifying bout of magic, surrounded by a mish-mash of demonic caverns and space-age architecture hovering over a pit of virulent and repugnant sludge. His foe was quick, powerful, yet patient, giving the Black Mage enough time to vault himself over the metal railing and bring himself to a stand.
"Heh. Well done Scarecrow." He taunted, before his thumb pressed onto the metallic cylinder held in his hand, causing a distinct snap-hiss to ring as the crimson blade of energy was released, emitting a low hum as the Magus put up a devilish grin. Only a stride away he leapt forward with a diagonal slash. Backed against the wall the Black Mage attempted to dart to the side and evade the blow, but his opponent's quickness was equal to his own, and the Black Mage suffered a blow to right forearm. Rather than feeling a simple cut or bash however the Warrior of Light was met with a burning sensation that scorched through his coat and left a second degree burn. Gnashing his teeth from the pain he willed himself to spin his wrists as he backpedaled.
"Wind, flowing, never tame, throw my foe and give him pain!" He grunted as he pulled his palms together, fingered outstretched as the epicenter of a small vortex, throwing his opponent backwards. Not one to be caught offguard the Magus disappeared from reality before he touched the ground, wind still pushing past where he should have been. The last time he had disappeared like this the young wizard had found himself launched by a well-placed hay-maker so the Black Mage decided to rush forward into a downward slide as he chanted.
"Sickening grasp, spread your poison. Bio!" Magic coursed through the Black Mage as a small pustules and boils began to form at either of the Black Mage's hands, draining out of him before coming together to form a bubble of a tainted green hue. The Magus then reappeared, around two meters past where the Black Mage was before he disappeared. The Warrior of Light threw one bubble at his shins with his left, then one with his right aimed in a straight shot at his chest, hoping to hit one way or another. His foe's reaction was quick enough to evade the first strike, but acid tore through cloth on the next, corroding into his body a few seconds later. The Demon-Lord chortled as the small incantation presented it's meager first-hand effects, inflicting little in the way of immediate pain.
"You've some skill scarecrow, but you've no idea the power of true magic." He said before his body erupted in a mauve stained inferno, knocking the Warrior of Light to the other end of the catwalk and setting portions of his cloak and cowl ablaze. Frantically the Black Mage threw off his outer robe as he rose back to a stand, revealing a tattered thin white undercoat, and the Black Mage's gaunt ebony form underneath. With the heavier clothes removed it was also easier to spot the constant wax and wane of his chest in accordance with his breathing. He was in pain all across his body, but he couldn't give up. If the six swords and seductive flames of the Fiend Marilith could not best him than neither should this wizard, no matter how dark his arts.
"Water, chilled, sharpened, strong. ICE!" The Black Mage roared and began slinging ice dart after ice dart at the fiendlord. If he magic could not best his opponent's through sheer might, perhaps it could through suppressive fire.
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