The First BlackSand Tournament
Quarter Finals Round, Duel II
BlackSand was blossoming. After years of hard work, Azazel finally felt like things might be working out for the city. The Tournament was advancing smoothly. The new racing championship had started. And now a new idea around a sports league had started to float around.
“Interesting times for BlackSand” Archmagus Crowley said as he spotted Azazel’s smiling face. “Indeed very interesting, my dear friend” Azazel said back before lowering his death eater mask over his face. Nothing forced him to wear it, but it had become second nature.
The two wizards made their way back to the tournament grounds to initiate the second duel of Round #2. “Exciting to be so close to the semifinals. I can already taste the crowd’s…” Crowley started, but Azazel interrupted him. “Not now. Let’s focus on this duel.”
“May the fight begin” Azazel announced, as the crowd exploded in cheers.
On one side of the arena stood Gadreel, holding his heavy chainsaw as if it was a light, wooden practice sword. On the other side was Valen: in his hands his massive axe, and round, wooden shield.
Both warriors had won their first duel thanks to their resilience and brute force. They had managed to absorb heavy hits, to then strike back with impressive violence. Azazel was eager to see what their strategy would look like in today’s fight.
Gadreel was the first to attack. As soon as the duel started, he sprinted, hurling his chainsaw forward. Valen was ready. As Gadreel’s chainsaw approached, Valen raised his axe to intercept. A loud clung erupted as the two weapons collided.
Valen was quicker to react, he lunged and with a swift strike he aimed at his opponent legs. Gadreel did not move fast enough and Valen’s axe hit.
Gadreel yelled in pain but immediately found the strength to push his opponent away with a violent punch. It was now his turn to attack. Gadreel charged, almost as if unaware of the open wound and blood spilling from his right leg.
Valen raised his shield and assumed a defensive stance.
Right before striking, Gadreel swung the chainsaw towards the ground, into the black sand of the pit. The impact of the running chain lifted a massive amount of sand that hit Valen. Surprised and with his vision being blocked, Valen lost balance in attempting to take a few blind steps backwards.
“Clever!” Archmagus Crowley observed. Oddly, Battle Mage Hothor turned his thumb downwards in disapproval of the seemingly unfair attack.
Gadreel followed through with his plan: the blinded opponent was an easy prey. Gadreel swung the chainsaw aiming for a fatal hit close to Valen’s neck. Valen managed to move, but not to evade.
The chainsaw hit. Valen screamed. He had avoided a deadly hit, but the chainsaw swiftly cut through him, severing his left arm right below the elbow.
The crowd went silent.
“My arm!” Valen yelled in a mix of pain and disbelief. A grin appeared on Gadreel’s face.
Not yet satisfied, he moved to finish his opponent with another hit. He hurled the chainsaw forward and this time Valen wasn’t fast enough. The loud, rotating chain hit Valen’s chest piercing right through his armor.
Valen eye’s bursted wide open in shock. He started coughing blood and gasping for air. But that hit had wrecked his chest open. Valen let go of his axe. “I…will not…” but before he could finish that sentence his energy gave out and he dropped to the ground.
Cries and scream emerged from the crowd: “Is he dead!?” “Someone do something!” “Help him!”
In triumph, Gadreel raised his chainsaw, now drenched in Valen’s blood.
“Gadreel wins!” Azazel hurried to declare before turning to Hothor. “Hothor go get the Necromancers. NOW!”
Azazel had contemplated the scenario of participants dying on the pit. But he didn’t think it would actually happen. “We have tens of Attendants that should stop this from happening!” he yelled in frustration, punching the wooden bleachers in front of him.
“Hothor, NOW!”
Entered by: 0x8717…A7A8
The First BlackSand Tournament
Quarter Final Rounds, Duel III
“We cannot afford for it to happen again!” Azazel stated. “But it’s a bloody fighting tournament! This was meant to happen. You can’t have tens of warriors fight without anyone going down!” Archmagus Crowley protested. “And the Necromancer said there is hope. The death was clean, whatever that means.”
“I know, I know” Azezel continued “still this can be avoided. I will ban fatal blows. Participants will no longer be allowed to go for the kill.”
Battle Mage Hothor had been quiet since the start of that discussion but this time he reacted. “Yes, it is for the better” giving his thumbs up.
“It is decided then. No more kills allowed.” Azezel declared.
The death of Valen had been hard on the crowd. Many fans has started protesting and begging the Council to remediate. But there was little Azazel could do. The Necromancer was the only hope left for that valiant warrior.
Azezel quickly shook his head trying to clear his mind. It was time to focus on the next duel. Jett would face Marcellus. He had truly enjoyed both warrior’s fighting styles in the first round and was looking forward to seeing more of them.
The two warriors were ready in the pit. Azezel signaled the start of the duel and the two fighters immediately sprinted forward.
No sign of flames from Marcellus’ firebrand. “Odd..” Azazel thought.
Jett raised his massive claymore looking to hit his opponent’s right shoulder. Marcellus parried. Jett struck again, this time aiming for the legs. Marcellus parried one more time… Again and again Jett tried to hit, looking for an opening.
“After the first duel, it’s quite clear that Marcellus’ defensive stance is almost unbreakable so Jett might be trying to tire him out instead of aiming for precise hits.” Crowley commented. But Azazel was still distracted by the lack of flames on Marcellus’ Firebrand.
Despite all the Jett’s attempts, Marcellus was easily evading any strike either by quickly repositioning his body or parrying with his shield. He had yet to use his sword.
“Ah! I get it now” Azazel almost shouted!
Jett tried a few more strikes, now more visibly concerned by the skills of his opponent. His eyes were continuously trying to anticipate where Marcellus would move his body or his shield next.
And that was the mistake Marcellus had been waiting for. With his Firebrand completely out of his opponent’s focus, Marcellus had a split second to shift to an offensive stance and prepare for a counter-attack.
Marcellus blade caught on fire and without a second delay, he struck. Jett’s eyes widened in surprise, followed by pain.
The hit was precise and right pierced through Jett’s right shoulder severing muscles and tendons. He could do nothing but drop his sword as he lost control of his arm.
“Spectacular!” Azazel exclaimed.
Marcellus didn’t stop and delivered another strike, this time stopping right in front of Jett’s neck. “Do you surrender?”
“The duel is over” Azazel hurried to declare before anything else could happen. “Glory to our third semifinalist Marcellus!”
The crowd exploded in cheers as Marcellus lowered his blade and left the arena.
Entered by: 0x8717…A7A8
