Battle Type: BATTLE
Prize: Rostislav / they get to beat each others asses
Character #1: Reichenbach
Bonded: n/a
Magic: n/a
Armor: n/a
Weapons: n/a
Character #2: Maxence
Bonded: n/a
Magic: n/a
Armor: n/a
Weapons: Bullwhip
I'll load the gun, you place the bets. He burned.
Underneath that mahogany skin roiled a world of fury, his very guts twisted with wrath, unending and unstoppable.
This would not stand.
They had chained him, beat him, poisoned him. Each insult would be repaid tenfold, then ten times over again. Solterra would realise their mistake in promoting a warmongering madman for a King.
Disgust curled Reichenbach's black lip, argent eyes ablaze with a wrath that had rarely been seen within the King Crow's normally jovial gaze. He had never controlled his emotions well, rather allowed them to roam wherever they pleased, as violently as they pleased. It was both a weakness and a strength, for his anger lent him strength, purpose, and an endless ferocity - all things that would inspire him to beat the living shit out of the Solterran Sovereign - yet his anger made him foolish, his vision tainted by blood.
Maxence would not be leaving in one piece today, that much could be foretold.
The energy writhing off of The Night King's muscular body was tangible, shadows lengthening and stretching around him as if to embrace that volcanic fury, swirling around their King like cats winding around legs, coy and insidious. The wildness of the Denoctian King bloomed underneath the darkening sky, the scent of woodsmoke and jasmine filling the cool air as he circled the Steppe, a kiss of sweetness against the violence that was to come.
The darkening sky flushed a deep mulberry purple, so different from the soft violet of Florentine's long lashed eyes that Reich studied it for a moment, trembling with anger - and for the first time that evening: fear. If Rostislav, big, hearty Rostislav, could be taken, then what chance would Florentine stand? His blood boiled at the thought of anyone laying a hand upon her smooth skin, knowing full well that anyone who did would lose more than just their hand.
Of all the Kings, all the Sovereigns, all the men in Novus, Maxence had chosen to steal from the one who valued his friendships, his loves and all of his people above anything else.
Had he thought there would be no consequences? Had he thought Denocte so void of a military that they wouldn't respond? There were many formidable warriors residing in Solterra - but Denocte soldiers were not ruled by a Commander, they were ruled by a friend and protector, and that made them all the more dangerous. Knife throwers, fire-dancers, assassins, experts in poison... there were just as many horrifying skills in the depths of Denocte as there were wonderful ones.
The sky darkened further, melting Reichenbach into the shadows, only his bright argent gaze glowing through the gloom. Night settled around him like a cloak, stars crowning that roguish head as his gaze turned lupine. The sound of beating wings marred the silent air, setting his insides coiling with an mix of pleasure and anticipation. Already he could taste blood on his lips, already he could feel retribution turning her cool eyes skyward.
Maxence had arrived.
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STAFF EDIT*** at time of posting, Reichenbach has 29 exp, Maxence has 24. Reichenbach has 18 Health, 22 Attack; Maxence has 7 Health, 13 Attack.
