06-17-2017, 07:22 AM
What was this nonsense? Illidan Stormrage, master sorcerer and conquerer of demons, demoted to fighting a bandana-clad woman and a mute bug? Why was he stuck with babysitting while Gildarts tackled the challenge of some three-eyed wizard? Their alliance hadn't discussed battles and the equality in which the participants were divided, but surely the human should have had the presence of mind to notice the inferior opponents heaped on the night elf and taken them himself?
Illidan spat. Ungrateful.
He turned his attention back to the battle. Despite their underwhelming appearances, both the ginger-haired girl and the horned beetle had yet to have fallen to Illidan and his demon forged warglaives. He grunted, frustrated with his pride. He knew there was a possibility of encountering other combatants who did not reveal their true strength aesthetically, whether willingly or not. He had to stop playing around, and stop underestimating them.
Small cuts lined his skin from the mute bug's last sweeping attack. A patch of burned skin on his arm reminded him of the human's remarkable ability to return his own spell back at him. His thoughts submerged in rage, an indignant belief in his own infallibility. His swift moment of clarity shattered. Fingers tightened around the hand guards of his weapons.
"Enough!" Illidan roared, leaping forward as his blades dragged behind him. "You will bow down to me or you will wish you had!"
The horned insectoid came into sight first, so Illidan struck. His foe wielded his cone-shaped sword with practised fluidity, and their blades clashed in a spray of sparks. Stormrage swung again, and the bug-man moved sloppily, struggling to match the night elf's speed. Illidan's next attack was parried, though clumsily, hastily, and the insectoid fell off balance. Seeing the opening, Illidan kicked the small fighter in the chest, sending him sprawling.
The crunching of grass pricked Illidan's long ears and he spun as two sickles lunged for his throat. The curved steel clang noisily in the uneven, ornate edge of Illidan's warglaives, and he found himself face-to-face with the human. He felt her arms rocking against their collision, and he couldn't easily dislodge her.
"You're rather cowardly, sneaking up on an opponent like that," Illidan sneered. "Perhaps you'd like to redeem yourself by attacking me head-on?"
The night elf shoved the human woman backwards. She stumbled a few steps, repositioned her fingers around the sickle handles, and charged, taking the bait.
Illidan frowned. She moved with a swiftness he wasn't anticipating; while he could match it, he was concerned that she may have been quicker. In any case, he only needed a few seconds.
The air rippled around the night elf's hands as the bandana-clad adversary closed in. As she reached the moment of attack, where her stability would be unguarded for a split second, he cast his Push spell. At the same moment, a sharp sting skirted across his back, stealing his focus as pain bloomed in a thin line. The bug creature skimmed into vision, arm extended with his toothpick sword, a light blemishing of blood along its edge.
The telekinetic energy redirected almost instinctively, slamming into the blade-wielding bug-man. The horned swordsman, unaware of the spell, bounced onto the ground. He quickly found his weapon again as black symbols materialised over his head, all a jumble of dollar signs, percent symbols and exclamation marks.
The familiar pleasure of steel kissed his collar bone, leaving a burning crescent leaking red down his chest. Shouting in pain and rage, Illidan leapt backwards, landing on his feet as the human woman stood with a crimson tinged sickle.
This was getting out of hand. The two of them, perhaps having sensed the threat, had momentarily at least combined efforts against Stormrage. How could they be causing him so much trouble? He was here to showcase his might to the Omniverse and to demonstrate to Dracula his worth. Yet here he stood, facing off against two weaklings and getting consistently sliced without barely injuring them in kind.
Illidan looked over his shoulder, catching Gildarts in the heat of confrontation with his two adversaries. He wasn't in a position to offer assistance. Yet in the moment of that evaluation, Illidan's burning eyes found something that would help ease his building fury.
Sticking a warglaive into the earth, Illidan thrust his open hand forward. Magic leaked from his body and wrapped around a recently dislodged tree. The fallen oak creaked as the night elf commanded it to rise, a lengthy cylinder of wood hovering in mid-air.
Illidan spun and slapped his hand towards his foes, launching the tree at a tremendous speed. The human's eyes widened and the insectoid scurried to get out of the way as the projectile crashed into the soil, burying them both from view.
Illidan spat. Ungrateful.
He turned his attention back to the battle. Despite their underwhelming appearances, both the ginger-haired girl and the horned beetle had yet to have fallen to Illidan and his demon forged warglaives. He grunted, frustrated with his pride. He knew there was a possibility of encountering other combatants who did not reveal their true strength aesthetically, whether willingly or not. He had to stop playing around, and stop underestimating them.
Small cuts lined his skin from the mute bug's last sweeping attack. A patch of burned skin on his arm reminded him of the human's remarkable ability to return his own spell back at him. His thoughts submerged in rage, an indignant belief in his own infallibility. His swift moment of clarity shattered. Fingers tightened around the hand guards of his weapons.
"Enough!" Illidan roared, leaping forward as his blades dragged behind him. "You will bow down to me or you will wish you had!"
The horned insectoid came into sight first, so Illidan struck. His foe wielded his cone-shaped sword with practised fluidity, and their blades clashed in a spray of sparks. Stormrage swung again, and the bug-man moved sloppily, struggling to match the night elf's speed. Illidan's next attack was parried, though clumsily, hastily, and the insectoid fell off balance. Seeing the opening, Illidan kicked the small fighter in the chest, sending him sprawling.
The crunching of grass pricked Illidan's long ears and he spun as two sickles lunged for his throat. The curved steel clang noisily in the uneven, ornate edge of Illidan's warglaives, and he found himself face-to-face with the human. He felt her arms rocking against their collision, and he couldn't easily dislodge her.
"You're rather cowardly, sneaking up on an opponent like that," Illidan sneered. "Perhaps you'd like to redeem yourself by attacking me head-on?"
The night elf shoved the human woman backwards. She stumbled a few steps, repositioned her fingers around the sickle handles, and charged, taking the bait.
Illidan frowned. She moved with a swiftness he wasn't anticipating; while he could match it, he was concerned that she may have been quicker. In any case, he only needed a few seconds.
The air rippled around the night elf's hands as the bandana-clad adversary closed in. As she reached the moment of attack, where her stability would be unguarded for a split second, he cast his Push spell. At the same moment, a sharp sting skirted across his back, stealing his focus as pain bloomed in a thin line. The bug creature skimmed into vision, arm extended with his toothpick sword, a light blemishing of blood along its edge.
The telekinetic energy redirected almost instinctively, slamming into the blade-wielding bug-man. The horned swordsman, unaware of the spell, bounced onto the ground. He quickly found his weapon again as black symbols materialised over his head, all a jumble of dollar signs, percent symbols and exclamation marks.
The familiar pleasure of steel kissed his collar bone, leaving a burning crescent leaking red down his chest. Shouting in pain and rage, Illidan leapt backwards, landing on his feet as the human woman stood with a crimson tinged sickle.
This was getting out of hand. The two of them, perhaps having sensed the threat, had momentarily at least combined efforts against Stormrage. How could they be causing him so much trouble? He was here to showcase his might to the Omniverse and to demonstrate to Dracula his worth. Yet here he stood, facing off against two weaklings and getting consistently sliced without barely injuring them in kind.
Illidan looked over his shoulder, catching Gildarts in the heat of confrontation with his two adversaries. He wasn't in a position to offer assistance. Yet in the moment of that evaluation, Illidan's burning eyes found something that would help ease his building fury.
Sticking a warglaive into the earth, Illidan thrust his open hand forward. Magic leaked from his body and wrapped around a recently dislodged tree. The fallen oak creaked as the night elf commanded it to rise, a lengthy cylinder of wood hovering in mid-air.
Illidan spun and slapped his hand towards his foes, launching the tree at a tremendous speed. The human's eyes widened and the insectoid scurried to get out of the way as the projectile crashed into the soil, burying them both from view.
Quote:798 words. Wanted to write more but ... can't!
Illidan attacked Little Ghost with his Twin Blades of Azzinoth.
Little Ghost replied with Perfect Parry twice, though his second performance let Illidan kick him away.
Malon attacked Illidan with her sickles, and steel met steel.
Illidan charged a Push spell, intending it for Malon until Little Ghost slashed him across the back with Nail.
Instead, Push knocked over Little Ghost.
In the confusion, Malon slashed Illidan's skin along the collarbone.
Illidan used his telekinesis (or Confine, w/e) to levitate the tree knocked over previously by Gildarts and hurled it at both Little Ghost and Malon, hitting them.
![[Image: illidansig2.jpg]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2017/07/07/illidansig2.jpg)