Zone E -- Highlands

[Strazio Rockwell]

Danger was made manifest in the form of a big God-damned lightning hammer. Strazio stumbled backwards. Odin pressed his advantage, swinging Mjolnir towards the boy’s chest.

“Step off!” Strazio shouted.

The Defender threw both hands forward and dumped every available scrap of energy into them. Quarter-sized chunks of flesh on Strazio’s arms vaporized; a price paid by those that dare to wield magick. A visceral collector called for his bloode and flesh to fuel the power he wished to use. Once he had gathered what he could stand to sacrifice the mage released his payload. A massive vortex of destruction erupted from the boy’s hands. Unable to find solid footing Strazio skidded backwards, his own attack almost too powerful to control.

“I will not fall so easily!” The Allfather’s voice cut through the explosion.

Strazio opened his mouth in astonishment. A dark form appeared in the sea of vindictive white. The old god forced his body through the tide, each step bringing him that much closer to the mage. Try as he might Strazio could only sustain such a devastating attack for a short time. And as quick as it started the blast flickered and died. With nothing left to stop him Odin rushed forth, hammer held high, ready to smite the interloper.

Drained of strength Strazio could do little more than watch as his opponent closed the distance. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable. Mjolnir slammed into the white-haired boy’s chest. In half a second the force of a lightning bolt was discharged into his fragile body. The force of impact turned Strazio into a meat missile sending him through the air. His flight was cut short as an upturned rock slab caught him. It took a few moments for Strazio.exe to come back online, his head dashed against his head. A fractal spiderweb-like network of burns covered his body and every muscle ached. He stood, smacked his chest, and screamed. He peeled away what was left of his shirt and trudged forward.

“You’re at your limit old man,” Strazio declared.

Odin scooped up his spear and answered, “you’re in bad shape yourself.”

“Yeah, well I’m used to it,” Strazio said, spit, and then asked, “what’s your name?”

“I am known as Odin, and you?”

“Strazio Rockwell, Defender of Darkshire, you’d do well to remember it.”

The two warriors nodded. There was something to be said for the kind of respect gained through mutual bloodshed.

Strazio rubbed a hand across his newfound burns and scowled. Burns were better than a broken arm, but not by much. They made movement painful, but at least he could move.The defender walked over to his rifle and picked it up. An errant arc of electricity traveled across the mage’s body and grounded against the rifle’s barrel. Strazio began to charge his weapon, a process both flashy and time-consuming. Erratic fireflies danced across the boy’s charred body and covered the longrifle. After a few seconds he leveled the rifle towards Odin and pulled the trigger.

The Allfather dodged a series of white-hot lances as he advanced. Strazio backpedaled, firing a fulisade of bolts. Odin took a lance to the chin, but kept his assault. The first strike knocked the rifle out of Strazio’s hand. Strazio stepped forward, smacking the spear away with his forearm. Odin kicked the boy’s leg and stepped back creating enough space to bring his spear back to bare.

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