Subject: Dezveraun the Damned vs. Daryth the Bard Date: Thu, 06 Jan 2000 17:39:12 PST From: "Bill Mullen" To: gschick@theocc.com It's a beautiful day in Saberhaven--warm, clear, bright, and perfect for a little bloodshed! There are a few empty seats, though not many, and the crowd seems a little lazy in the heat--laid back and drinking ale. They stir to attention as the names are called! Daryth the bard floats in on a magic carpet, loaded with drums and other musical equipment--actually, nine Daryth's float in, the images swirling about. Several female fans swoon as they gaze upon his beautiful face, his brilliant green eyes, and his short blonde hair. Daryth is dressed in loose fitting silk clothing--a forest green shirt and black pants that shimmer in the sun. He is beating a steady rythym on his drums. "What is this pretty-boy doing fighting for the Powers of the Dark?" some fan grumbles. A young pretty girl looks at the fan accusingly. "He's fighting for the woman he loves! It's so romantic..." The fan leers, and cups his groin. "Yeah, yeah... I got your romance right over here..." Dezveraun the Damned also makes his entrance to the Arena. This Drow elf is known to be the rarest of the rare, an albino. He wears black armor engraved with runes, and a matching helm, and carries a monstrous black bow. His cloak flares behind him for a moment, then his entire form shimmers, then seems to meld into the background, no longer visible. Daryth just grins, and triumphantly finishes his drumbeat. A huge arc of lightning appears in front of Dazveraun, lancing into the spot the Damned had been standing in, smashing into the wall, and rebounding back out. Dezveraun simply smiles, ignoring the bolt, and gracefully darting to the side, nocking an arrow on his mighty Demon bow. Daryth does the same with his own, equally mighty bow, as he zooms in on his flying carpet. He seems to see Dezveraun just fine, even though the crowd cannot. Both fighters unleash arrows at nearly the same time, but Daryth gets his off a touch faster. Dezveraun's eyes widen and he begins to dodge, trying to avoid a flurry of eight arrows. He manages to avoid five of them, but three still find their mark, doing decent damage. Dezveraun feels some sickly tingles of magic, but is barely able to resist them. Finally, Dezveraun is able to get his own arrow shots off. Both fly straight and true, and slam into the rapidly closing Daryth. However, they TIK off like they were hitting solid stone. Dezveraun, recognizing the stoneskins for what they are, replaces his bow. Both his Sword of Assassination and his Dagger "doombringer" are in his grasp. Daryth flies closer on his carpet, but slows and stops about 40 yards from Dezveraun. The blonde minstrel flashes his brilliant smile towards the ladies as he lays his bow down beside him, and begins beating a set of drums before him. Immediately, the ground begins to pitch and quake! Mighty rumbles vibrate into the air as the very earth beneath Dezveraun moves! The fighter can barely keep his feet. Daryth smirks as he once again picks up his bow, and nocks an arrow... Taken aback, Dezveraun grows infuriated at the annoyances this minstrel is conducting. He tries to raise his hand to throw his mighty dagger, but Doombringer tumbles from Dezveraun's fingers as the ground trembles and the albino Drow lurches to his knee. He looks up to see Daryth waving to the crowd from his carpet, as he confidently lifts his bow from where he laid it beside him. Again, the bard raises the bow with a familiar ease, and unleashes an arrow... or tries to, but tries to move to quickly and completely fumbles the move. "Oh for goodness' sakes..." the pretty-boy moans. Dezveraun tries to draw another weapon, but the shaking ground forces him to spend almost his entire attention just keeping his feet. Daryth is under no such restriction, and the blonde half-elf takes a deep breath, then brings his arrows to his cheek once again. The minstrel fires eight arrows at Dezveraun. Four of them miss, but four of them strike true. Dezveraun grunts in pain, and feels a tingling wash through him. He struggles to move, but finds it harder and harder to feel his limbs. Finally, he falls over, completely paralyzed. Daryth is declared the winner, and he flies about the Arena, absorbing the cheers and the adoration of the fans! "Yes, yes, I love you!" he cries. "I love all of you!" He makes limpid gestures and croons towards all his female admirers, circling about until finally, one of the guards calls out to him. "Hey, get off the field, lover-boy! We'd like to start the next fight sometime today!" Reluctantly, the bard flies to the center of the Arena, takes one final bow, then flies out of his exit, pumping his fists in victory. Winner: Daryth Damage taken, Daryth: none Damage taken, Dezveraun: 24 Rounds taken: 5 ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com