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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 4870901" data-attributes="member: 2323">[PLAIN][Realms #478] And Now... the Main Event![/PLAIN]Ayremac delivered his reply to the whole of the room, voice booming. "If I win, I ask for my choice of weapon in this stronghold." The githyanki representative turned to the Gisir and conveyed the response and after a moment, the ruler inclined his head. Several of those assembled made a show of hoisting their own swords, suggesting they were in possession of the desireable blade. Even Maleko, who knew less about swords than he did about a great many other things had to admit that there were some magnificent examples of the weaponsmith's art amongst the assemblage.Ayremac seemed unimpressed with the bravado shown by the spectators. His eyes never left the githyanki who spoke for the Gisir as he continued dramatically, "And if you win, I will carry out a quest of your choosing. I make this oath to you under the judicious eyes of Umba. You will note… our fight will not be to death, but to submission or unconsciousness."The room erupted into a sudden rage of protest at that and it took a barked command from the Gisir to silence the crowd."Bah!" the githyanki messenger spat once the room had settled. "Your terms are unacceptable. Only a game involving real risk is worth playing! The duel is to the death or not at all." He eyed Ayremac eagerly, "Or do you withdraw your challenge?"Del felt the air crackle with anticipation. It was clear that these people thrived on aggression and battle. As such, he suspected that it would be difficult to rescind the challenge. And he knew they would be unable to assist Ayremac in this fight - either by sword or by magic.He took a moment to consider the man who had drawn them to this place. Both Ixin and Ayremac had identified him as Morier, and Maleko had further identified him as a drow, which seemed at odds with the figure floating somewhat dazedly in the center of the spherical chamber. For one thing, Del had always heard that drow were black-skinned, but this elf was white as paper with hair to match. His eyes were the same color as the blood that tattooed his left arm and hand: ruby. He wore a chain shirt of gleaming mithril and carried a gleaming Valiant Vessel bag across his torso. He had a baldric that held an empty sheath, but carried no obvious weapons. Still there was a something dangerous in the way he held himself - something that spoke of a capability belied by the uncertain expression on his face.Morier's wound continued to bleed openly, but the albino too seemed to be waiting for Ayremac's decision. Del was eager to learn what he could from the keeper of the Grey House coins, but he knew that would have to wait until they were safely away. "I will fight by your side, celestial, if that will hasten our departure from this place," he said in a low voice."And I," Ixin announced firmly.Ayremac raised his hand only slightly and declined with a respectful nod. "We shouldn't risk more lives."Maleko pushed forward, discreetly offering his spellsink scarab. The holy warrior glanced down at the device and shook his head."We do not want to enflame this situation further," Ayremac hissed. "There are too many swords here to see them all turn against us.""From what I know of githyanki, the Girsir is the only one you have to worry about. Ask no quarter and give none. Other than that... anything goes," Maleko reassured him. "Githyanki are cruel and sadistic, but they follow their oaths absolutely." "Well, angel!?" the githyanki who spoke for the Gisir demanded, managing to make the word 'angel' sound like a curse."Do you forfeit your challenge or is the duel to be to the death?"Ayremac turned once more to the messenger and announced with steel in his voice, "I do not withdraw, Gisir. We will fight, and to the death." There were encouraging shouts from the assembly. "Who will oversee this duel?" The messenger laughed thinly at that and raised his sword. indicating the whole of the room with a single, dramatic flourish of the blade."All those assembled here will oversee the challenge," he told Ayremac. "We are githyanki. Secrets do not become us!""Then lay out your rules for this fight, and let us get to it," the holy warrior replied earning a sneer and a nod of deference from the messenger."The rules of the challenge are simple," the githyanki told him. "The fight is to the death. The survivor claims the head and weapon of the loser as trophies. You may conduct the challenge using any means within your power, but if any other than your opponent are harmed by you during this trial then your life is forfeit."Morier, who had only minutes before heard the nearly the same speech, raised his good hand, attracting Perragourp's attention. "Ummm... can I? Am I, uhhh... Can I... go... now?" the albino stammered and Perragourp sneered at him and nodded once."The call of githyanki blood has been answered by the justice you have done here. Your name is cleared of all charges and you are free to leave," the commander told him. Then he pointed at Ayremac and added, "But do you not wish to stay and witness the Gisir behead this fool?" Morier looked briefly at Ayremac and the cadre of strangers he'd surrounded himself with then shook his head."I've had enough of bloodbaths for the time being," he said. "I'd really just like to get out." Perragrourp seemed disgusted by the eldritch warrior's lack of vision and raised his sword to indicate the door by which Ayremac had entered. Without a word Morier turned and willed himself in that direction.As he drifted, stone-faced, passed Ayremac, Maleko held up a hand. "Hold one minute, Mori'Quessir," he said, producing his glowing bracelet. It was glowing like Orin's Shield now and Morier, Ixin and Cerrakean all winced away from it, shielding their eyes. "This device says that you have possession of the coins belonging to Grey House. I am looking for an explanation as to what happened to them!" Del looked with bewilderment at Maleko. His mind reached back to the details of the elf's past, wondering when the seeds of this undisguised contempt had been sown. At the moment it did not matter - they were in enough of a fix. "Not here," he implored his friend quietly."Listen to your friend, Darthiir'waela," Morier said wearily and fixing his gaze pointedly on the hall beyond, moved out of the arena."We have followed your law and custom, challenging you in an open forum," Ayremac said after Morier had gone on. "Gisir... as a warrior, I trust you will return the honor by allowing my commrades to leave unaccosted, win or lose.""We will not speak yet of terms," the githyanki speaker, Perragrourp, growled, "You have yet to offer anything of value to the almighty Okemocik."Again Ayremac's voice rang out. "I put my armor and shield against my choice of weapon from Avik-tchai." The githyanki buzzed amongst themselves approvingly, recognizing the quality and craftmanship of Ayremac's gear. "It is done," the githyanki spokesman confirmed after a moment's consultation with the Gisir. "Prepare yourself." He drifted back as both the Gisir and Ayremac drifted forward."Their eyes are on me," the holy warrior hissed over his shoulder as he went. "Now is the time to leave."The Gisir had left his heavy rod behind, but he held his elaborate greatsword and it danced and flashed like quicksilver in his hands as he spoke in a harsh, alien language to the assemblage. They listened and as they had done before during the trial they clashed their weapons together in an approving and at the same time threatening manner. The Gisir spread his ropy arms, drinking in his people's enthusiasm and then he looked at Ayremac with a predatory smile on his emaciated lips. The light from his glowing crown caught pricks of red in his otherwise jet-black eyes. He nodded.And the duel was begun."Angel Eyes has got a pair, that's for sure," Cerrakean muttered as she turned away from the duel. "But he's right. We should get the hell out while we have the chance." Maleko nodded, casting one last look at the holy warrior as he squared off against the githyanki commander."Good luck, Ayremac," he sighed. "May the gods be with you."Dell put a hand on Ixin's arm and she shook it off with a single violent motion. "We should go, Ixin," the marshall assured her. "There's nothing more we can do for him now.""I'm staying," she said without looking at him. Her jaw clenched with restrained fury as she watched the Officer of Umba go to his fate. He recalled what she had told them about the circumstances surrounding her recent rebirth and Ayremac's part in it. In her mind, Ayremac had saved her life. Del thought of being bitten by an adder half-a-lifetime ago and of the young janissary-in-training who had saved his life and he knew at once that Ixin would not be persuaded. "We'll wait for you outside," he told her and then he too left the chamber and the bloodthirsty roar of the githyanki spectators.Ayremac regarded the Gisir and steeled himself. Then he spoke a word in the tongue of the angels and called down a Holy Smite on the githyanki. A burst of divine power exploded around the commander and Ayremac watched without pleasure as the energies wracked the githyanki's frame. When they subsided the Gisir looked up at the holy warrior, his cracked lips pulled back from blood-slicked teeth. He spoke a litany of syllables and drew the palm of his hand along the blade of his greatsword, drawing blood and infusing the weapon with dark magic. Then Ayremac saw the Gisir smile and narrow his eyes slightly an instant before he felt an unseen force press in all around him.The Officer of Umba struggled, but couldn't escape the telekinetic assault. He watched the Gisir's smile broaden as it became obvious that Ayremac was caught. The Gisir slid closer and Ayremac felt the unseen force press in on him from every direction, grinding armor plates against one another, flattening his wings and sword and shield uselessly against his immobilized body.This was it, he thought. He'd been presented with a simple choice: succeed or fail... live or die. And he'd failed. He was going to die.The Gisir approached slowly... gloating... drawing out his victory for the enjoyment of his people... making an example of Ayremac to those who would challenge his rule. Ayremac roared an animal cry born of frustration that tore his throat raw and flecked his lips with foam.Then he activated his Shield of Blinding.The Gisir, caught totally unaware, let out his own cry then as the startlingly bright light burned his eyes and broke his concentration. Ayremac felt the telekinetic grip on his body drop away and he breathed a sigh of relief. Then he hefted his longsword and came at the blinded githyanki from the side Smiting the Evil creature. His longsword came down on the Gisir's right shoulder, opening the joint to the bone and cutting away a messy slab of meat. A mist of blood spread in the air, peppering the celestial's armor and dotting his wings.Somehow, despite being blinded and enduring the grievous wound to his left arm the Gisir still clung to the belief that he could best the Officer of Umba. He swung his greatsword around clumsily, and Ayremac batted it away almost casually with his shield.He would not be denied.He raised his sword and brought it down across the githyanki's back again, hard enough to nearly make the Gisir drop his weapon. The githyanki yelped in pain and fear, his blind face stricken suddenly by the realization that after untold decades of rule he might not survive this latest challenge to his authority. Fear touched his soul.His greatsword whistled uselessly, desperately, through the air above Ayremac's head. The holy warrior ducked to the side and thrust upward with his own sword driving a foot of steel into the flesh beneath the Gisir's armpit. Blood sprayed outward under brief pressure as the blade pierced the githyanki's black heart, ending Gisir Ocemocik's life and the duel in one decisive blow.---------------OOC- The Gisir rolled a natural 1 for his saving throw to avoid being blinded by Ayremac's shield. Ayremac then did a Smite Evil on the githyanki and rolled a critical hit in the process. At that point, blind and crippled, the outcome for the Gisir was destined not to be a happy one.Ultimately, I wasted my time statting up the dreaded Gisir of Avik-tchai. Ayremac didn't end up taking a single point of damage in the duel.<img src="http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/erm.png"  class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":erm:" title="Erm    :erm:" data-shortname=":erm:" /></blockquote>

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