Tantalum faces off against The Strongest in pursuit of your votes and reading pleasure.
Walden (The Strongest's wRHG) - Spectral wolves, Binds Spirits, Werewolf Transformation
Karal (Tantalum's wRHG) - Metal coat, Enhanced Strength, Electric Projection
Spoiler (Click to Show)
Darkness, still, was not a particularly easy thing to stay aware in, especially one such as this. It was completely devoid of sensation. At least a natural night had sounds, even if the only sound was one's own breathing. Why Walden was conscious for such a transit, he began to question. Or was he truly conscious? His mind began to slow, returning to that question time and time again, until it finally began to consume all of his thoughts, until he no longer heard them.
When Walden next opened his eyes, he could see again. Above him there was nothing but blue sky with a few mixed white clouds. Walden began to stand, but the feeling of the ground shifting beneath him turned his effort into a stagger. Looking down, he found himself at the top of a spire of metal and glass. Across from him, there was another such spire, and below it seemed a bridge of glass existed. It all seemed so fragile, yet there it was, somehow existing. Disconcertingly, the blue sky didn't just extend upwards in a horizon. As Walden looked down, there was more blue sky to be seen. In fact, the whole structure seemed to exist in some sort of limbo. A glass bridge spanning nothing.
Down below, Walden could make out the forms of several vehicles traveling, and above the four lanes of swift traffic there was a wide walkway, apparently intended for pedestrians, of which there were none to be seen. Except for one, as Walden saw, walking casually along it.
From where he was, Walden couldn't distinguish any real features. There was a lot of red, so she stood out against the glass, but her head seemed to be covered by some sort of a metal helmet. It was an odd juxtaposition, the highly casual attire cutting away into the serious combat gear. Still, it meant that this would likely turn out to be a fight where he would have to be the faster of the two, for any number of reasons.
Walden considered the myriad of possibilities as he navigated his way down from the tower, really it was just a support for the ladder leading to the walkway, that the spire rested atop. Maybe she was lightly armored because she valued agility over anything else. Or perhaps she wasn't heavily armored because her entire suite of abilities focused on death from afar. Or maybe she was some sort of an area of effect fighter.
Or maybe it was because she herself was already quite armored, just not in the way Walden had expected.
As Walden got closer, he began to perceive what he could only describe as a metal mask, the likes of which he had never seen before. It seemed to cover the figure's face entirely, save for three holes along the left cheek. Aside from those three holes, and a single protrusion where a nose would be, the mask was smooth like the glass structure they were walking towards each other on.
Well, Walden was doing something more akin to a stride, as he closed in on the one he expected to be his next opponent in this tournament. The other occupant of the glass walkway was doing something that seemed more like plodding. The slow and rather heavy way of moving gave Walden the impression that that armor didn't just cover her face, after all. It looked effective, too, not a scratch on it.
Or maybe it was something new, something that she was unused to. That would explain the condition, as well. The clunky way of moving also seemed to support that theory, that his opponent didn't know how to fight effectively while in that suit. That was fine by Walden.
Walden came to a stop, and the other did the same.
With a flourish, Walden drew his blade and declared, “My name is Walden. I trust that you are my opponent. Here, on this glass construct, we shall do battle. An endeavor which we shall both keep up until the other is rendered unable to battle, or forfeits.”
Walden waited for confirmation, or for any response, but one did not immediately present itself. Slightly put off, Walden continued.
“The rules of engagement, I propose, shall include no shooting to the back. No sand in the eyes. No hidden blades or weapons.”
As Walden finished his statement, he withdrew the pistol from his jacket and spun it once in his hand. He followed that with a dramatic wave of his arm. Just beyond the reach of his fingertips, a tear opened up in the air, and Walden's pack poured out behind him.
“You have focused yourself, it seems, on armor. If you shall be a fortress, then I shall be the water running between your stones. Prepare yourself, I have calculated your strength and I shall defeat you at its level!”
With another dramatic gesture, Walden commanded several of his wolves to disintegrate and fuel his fight. This reinvigorated Walden stretched his back once, before turning again to face his opponent.
“Before we begin, I should like to know the name of the one I shall be facing.” Walden said.
The other figured stood stock still, and Walden believed for a moment that she was, in fact, deaf, when suddenly he saw sparks dancing in front of her. At first, Walden expected an attack, but that expectation was disappointed, as the sparks danced faster, forming words with their glowing trails.
\/\= Karal. =\/\
The idea that it was her name that would begin the fight was taken literally, it seemed, as Karal began to move forwards. Walden surmised that she was effectively a heavily armored taser, and that made fighting her theoretically difficult.
Still, Walden took a quick step forwards as Karal got close enough for him to attempt such and made a testing lunge. It wasn't strong enough to be effective in that moment as a real attack, but if it would definitely confirm or reject Walden's theory that he was in for a very bad time with a fight such as this.
Without flinching, Karal continued forwards, reaching down as if to grab the blade as it glanced off her armor, though the clothing above it was cut. Seeing, through the cut, that same shiny surface made Walden realize how much of a problem this fight actually was.
It didn't much matter what Karal seemed to be capable of doing in retaliation if Walden couldn't present anything for Karal to even consider a threat. At his strength, Walden didn't think that he could so much as dent that armor.
So Walden decided to rely on a different entity's strength. Raising his pistol, Walden took a moment to steady himself before he pulled the trigger. There was a flash of smoke and flame, and the distinct sound of the bullet rebounding off the metal alloy that covered Karal. Sparks, too. More sparks than there ought to have been.
Walden leaped backwards as the immediate area in front of Karal seemed to erupt into sparks. An incandescent display of power that Walden was struggling to find a way to overcome. Walden lacked the firepower to do anything to her, it seemed. That pistol had been fired practically at point blank range, but from the time it took for her counterattack to materialize, it had been about as effective as his earlier lunge. Even though she seemed slow enough that Walden could easily reload for a second shot, the effort struck him as entirely pointless.
The heavy sound of Karal's footstep made him realize that she was still coming for him. Another footstep, and it was at that moment that Walden realized that her footfalls were punctuated by another sound. As Walden looked down, just at the point where Karal's foot came down, he saw the formation of several small cracks.
On her own, perhaps, Karal wasn't enough to break the structure. But if she were to receive some aid in that pursuit...
Walden ordered the remaining wolves to attack. He knew that they wouldn't be effective in the slightest against her, but the goal was to keep her in one place long enough to maximize the damage that she could do to the walkway in one place. Since any damage she did to them was temporary at best, the distraction would, hopefully, be enough for Walden's plan to come to fruition. That plan seemed to be working alright. If a wolf attacked from behind, then Karal seemed at least more inclined to turn to knock it to the side than to simply use her static in a burst again. It must not be the kind of attack that she can use wantonly.
Even so, its existence was enough that Walden was willing to rely on his tactic of overwhelming spirits do its job, allowing Karal to defeat herself, as each heavy step she took to brace herself to knock the next wolf away further weakened the ground that she stood on. The threat of the wolves was enough to keep Karal from paying too much attention to that, it seemed.
Well, that lack of attention would turn out to be her undoing, or so Walden thought. Although Karal didn't show it by turning her head, Walden had the eerie sensation that he was being watched. Then Karal turned away from the wolf she had just knocked to the side and began moving towards Walden at a jog. The move was significantly faster than anything he had been expecting, and Walden's surprise lasted long enough that she was able to get much closer than Walden was comfortable with.
A solid punch found itself in his gut, and the reeling Walden felt a surge of electricity run through his body, then. Just past the veil of sudden pain, Walden found one thought that he was able to grab hold of, and that was that she was much stronger than he had first anticipated. Walden closed his eyes, trying to blink away the pain. Somewhere, he heard a voice screaming. Something about...coming back. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe he should just go back to wherever it was he had come from. Through the haze in his mind, he couldn't quite remember where that was. He remembered there being a void, but that was as far back as he was able to think.
He was so intent on finding what was past that void in his memory, that when he realized that the electricity had ceased, it came as a second, much less literal, shock to his system. There were no more wolves, either, all of them were within Walden. Karal, it seemed, had interpreted that as Walden's defeat. Her mistake.
Walden looked around with his eyes, and saw just how close he was to salvaging this situation, as the glass continued to crack. Karal, it seemed, had noted this as well, as her footfalls were made with a definite care. A lot of focus went into that. Too much focus. It gave Walden enough of a blind spot for him to struggle up onto his knees again.
Looking around, with his whole pack inside him, Walden saw the only way to continue forwards clear as crystal before him.
“Karal.” Walden called, struggling to his feet as he did such. “I can't defeat you. But if I know one thing, it's that you'll be fine.”
Walden looked down at the cracks in the glass and stomped as hard as he could. Spirits in his blood, in his bones, in his muscles, in all of his body brought strength to the action, and the cracks spread in all directions. Karal had turned to look at him, and knew immediately what he was doing. She started her jog again. Heavy footfalls. More cracks.
Walden brought his foot up, and then down again. Karal was still coming. The cracks were spreading further. Again. A greater spread than previously. The reflection off Karal's coating getting closer. Stamp. Crack. Thud, thud. Crack. Stamp. And the walkway gives way. In that moment, one thing becomes absolutely crucial: running away.
The damage from the structure extended far in both directions, and all that damaged glass was coming down. Walden turned, and called several of his wolves out from him as he began to run. The sudden drop in his physical capabilities was twice the blow to him, as the remnants of the brief agony he had experienced before coursed through his nerves.
One step, two steps, three steps, four...Walden was moving at what might as well have been a jog. As the nature of the fight had changed, Walden had changed as well. Karal was following behind him, attempting the same thing as he was, but it didn't seem to be fast enough. Self doubt was beginning to cloud his mind, in the same way that the pain had just before. Would it be better to turn and face the fall?
No, that kind of thinking wasn't what he'd forged himself into. Walden turned that thought into inspiration. The inspiration became fuel, and Walden pushed his natural muscles to triumph over this scenario. Every moment, the walkway beneath his feet began to feel less stable. But at the same time, every moment seemed to bring the safety of more stable ground closer. It was a sight, if there were any to spectate it. Two gladiators moving at a snail's pace to escape a fall to their defeat.
Walden saw the safe ground just ahead. Three steps away. Two steps. That safe ground was suddenly rising. Walden didn't have to look down to realize that he might just not make it. That thought didn't stop him from trying, though. Walden put what energy he had into a leap forwards to get himself firmly on the safety that he was so close to. Even as the he felt the glass fall away beneath his feet, Walden also felt his body moving through the air towards the still wholly solid glass. He landed, and he felt the security of the structure beneath his body, and he let a half-sob, half-sigh exhalation escape. The tremendous crash, then, as all that glass and one gladiator impacted onto the lanes below was the only sound that Walden needed to know that the fight was over. The old man closed his eyes. When he opened them next, there was only darkness. And that sight was beginning to feel startlingly familiar.
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Spoiler (Click to Show)
Walden did not know whose footsteps he was following. Irregular, deep-printed marks through pebble-ridden sands, revealed as his cane swept past. The puzzle was somewhat distracting from the peaceful walk he intended for; but at the same time welcoming. Normally confined to the city walls, it was a rare sight to see those who could still appreciate the world's smaller wonders, and such persons would surely make for better conversation than the typical share of combatants.
The stranger's steps led him to a moss-coated dock, and his own broad paces brought him atop the aged, moss-laced path. Ahead of him was sighted a ship of modest size, resembling an 18th century brig; weathered from decades of rain and tides, yet its hull and masts held perfectly intact. The figurehead of a gryphon adorned beneath its bow, the mark of a forgotten flag crowned both of the ship’s masts, and its hand-decorated rails and woodwork remained as fine as the day they were scored.
No mark foretold of the shipwrights responsible for such timeless craftsmanship, nor the sailors skilled enough to leave it unscathed amongst the jagged rocks of the shore. Unable to be restored nor navigated by any other, it remained in port to the present day, an anchored landmark of a rarely-visi