A Dark Duel pt1

With the ultimatum, the mage and the demonborne looked upon each other. It is palpable, the tension was so. Draken feared the power he felt emanating from the archmage. Little did he know that Gelt was wary of the black staff.

Gelt was aware that the full potential of such an item of power and guessed that it was not yet unlocked. But he was willing to give this one a push to unlock it.

Draken bared his teeth, canines sharp as he responded, "Why should I bow to you? And still you speak riddles!" He gripped his staff. "I possess the answer to these riddles!" And with that declaration, he moved in with a swiftness that would have caught a lesser man off guard.

Bathlazaar Gelt was no lesser man. As quickly as the staff was thrusted forward with purple and black energy beading at the end, so to did his own staff meet to parry. The blow rebounded back, stumbling Draken with surprise. The man had barely moved and yet the contact had enough power behind it to blast a man off of his feet. With a resolved growl, he stabbed the staff into the ground.

Gelt himself was ready, gripping his own staff of power with both hands. Tendrils of black smoke flowed out of the ground and the Black Staff, swirling around Gelt. "Lanuae Magicae mihi tres pedes ad sinistram," he evoked calmly. There was a snapping of reality as the tendrils suddenly stabbed towards Gelt as solidified black spikes.

Draken gritted his teeth and twisted his grip around the staff. "Now-" he started.

"Fulmine ignis," Gelt's voice sounded from a ruined house. The sudden appearance of three firebolts streaking out from the door caught Draken by surprise. The flames washed over him harmlessly. Draken stood taller, smiling darkly. "You fool, fire holds no sway on me!"

"Fulmen," Gelt responded. He knew that very well and knew that it would lower his guard mentally. The lightning bolt struck Draken in the chest with a resounding violence that sent The Diablo to a broken wall. He felt no pain but definitely could feel the wind leave him.

Lightning flashed overhead as the rain came down harder than it was a few moments ago, creating large swaths of water in the ruined street. Thunder rolled across the land as Draken called forth the stored life force. He had to get out of this situation and fast. He summoned up his will and levitated several larger pieces of rubble. With a thrust of his mind and a push of his hand, the rubble flew straight for the archmage. Draken summoned more power as he did so, readying a trio of magic missiles.

Gelt flexed his will outwards and simply swatted the rubble aside with a wave of his left hand. His right extended his staff forward, magic pooling at the tip. An eldritch blast of energy sped out even as the missiles sought their target.

Gelt could not dodge those missiles, relying on his personal defensive magics to dissipate them. Pinpricks of pain against his shield spell noted the connection of the spell but was quickly banished from his mind. Draken saw the blast coming and dodged to his right, sprinting and jumping into the air from a pile of rubble. His staff was outlined by a thunderous lightning bolt as he stabbed down, his left hand reaching behind him to grasp at air.

The Red Wizard regarded The Diablo. It was impressive how much the descending was willing to do to win. He wondered exactly what was guiding his strikes with such ferociousness. He raised his staff to parry.

There was a thunderous clap as the staves met again, the magical force in and behind both creating a shockwave that cleared the rain around them in a momentary bubble around them. Draken seized something behind him as Gelt swept the staves away, riposte ready to stab his own into Draken. The grimace that Draken held only went tighter as he let go of the Black Staff and swung with his left.

Trailing through the air as it melted into existence was a blade of shadows, gifted to him a long time ago from an old friend. The black inky smoke that trailed it fully materialized as he struck with all of his might. He smote Gelt upon the face, the flash of personal defense being easily pierced by the blade. The Crimson One was wounded from the blow, the golden mask struck from his face.

Draken readied another blow but was caught by an unseen wall of force as the archmage reeled still. Draken was flung into puddles of increasing size. Realizing that Gelt was facing away and he clutched his face, Draken quickly scrambled back to his feet and looked quickly for a place to either run or hide.

The Red Wizard stood for a moment longer before he slowly extended his hand out, the golden visage flying with surprising speed to his hand. He slowly placed it back before turning back to him.