The Official RP Thread

[CleverMog]

With the addition of the Fancloth, Yurin's travels through the subterranean catacombs was accelerated five-fold. Heading deeper and deeper into the belly of Shayol Ghul, Mog continued taking turns and passing others as if he knew where he was going, he couldn't explain it if he tried, but he did. Nearing the area where he knew the child to be confined, he slowed, taking every precaution he could. He supressed a shudder as he passed a pair of Draghkar standing to either side of the chamber, almost like guards. Sliding past them as noticable as a shadow, Yurin entered.

There, sitting in a heavily padded chair was Dorian, a tray resplendent with succulent sweets and other dilicacies from across the globe. He was wearing clothing fit for a king, or at least a young prince. A Myrdraal was kneeling before him, speaking in it's voice sounding like nothing so much as the scrape of leaves across a gravestone.

"As you command, Nae'Blis."

It stood and was walking toward the doorway Yurin had just entered. What was going on?! A far away look crossed the boys face as the Halfman was leaving. He looked around the room, searching, his eyes suddenly picked out the shape of Mog pressed into the wall next to the door.

"He is here!", he cried happily, alerting anyone within hearing distance of the intruder amongst them.

The Fade turned on a heel and drew its black blade from the sheathe at its side in the same motion. Drawing his twin blades simultaneously, Yurin took a defensive stance, the Eyeless closed with him and they crossed blades within a heartbeat of Dorian's cry, it was fast. Incredibly fast, faster than any other that he had fought in the past. Had it not been for the fact that he had a second blade, he would've been struck down in the first few moments of contact. The Fade's weapon seemed in two places at once as it hammered again and again at the Warder's blades. A thin sheen of sweat began covering Mog's body as the exertion from the powerful, incredibly fast attacks came hailing down on him like a volley of arrows. Sensing weakness, his opponent started pushing the advantage that his stregth and speed gave him, forcing the Shienaran back, it took all the Blademaster had to keep the flashing blade from him.

In desperation, Mog seized saidin to finish the battle, or rather, tried to. It was like trying to climb a greased wall. He could sense the Source, even feel it's seductive waves pulsing, waiting for him to draw it in yet, scrabble as he might, he could find no purchase. It was almost like when he was first learning at the Black Tower and could only Channel half the times he tried. He wasn't Shielded, he simply couldn't draw saidin within him.

Trying to ignore his lack of ability to Channel, he focused on the enemy at hand. The Gaidin had never faced an enemy before that could fight against his techniques for long much less successfully. He had created them himself, using principles from the Blademaster training he had received, yet this creature of the Shadow was countering his every move like he knew they were coming.

"You are a marvelous fighter, meat. I have never been held at bay by a mere human for this long before. You are tiring, though. You will fall soon. You should lay down your weapons and surrender. I do not wish for your death, but I will take your life if it comes to it. Another can be found to replace you."

The grating voice came evenly, no exertion issuing forth as it struck again and again with the power of a blacksmith's hammer.

Panting from effort, his voice coming in spurts as he paused when there was an influx of attacks, he replied,

"I will never surrender to the Shadow, creature. Should you strike me down, I shall fall, that is the only way you will ever stop me."

Finding a tiny opening, Yurin slid his blade in and slashed once, Kingfisher Swoops, striking the Fade's left arm off at the shoulder, as he stepped into the opening he took a glancing blow across his back as it was exposed for a split second. The wound would fester, it was given by a cursed black blade made here, in the Pit of Dhoom, it held the essence of the evil and corruption of the Dark One himself. He was dead if he could not reach a Healer within a day. The thoughts floated in the back of his mind, barely acknowledged in the Void's all-encompassing embrace. It was almost as if he was thinking of someone's else's body, someone else's pain. Thrown off balance by the loss of a limb, the Halfman's attacks became more wild, his strikes going a hair too wide, his recovery a hair too slow, soon his body and limbs were covered in gashes and deep cuts as Mog took every advantage offered, like a viper, he slid in, struck, slid out. Attack after attack was foiled as he struck for the Shadowspawn's head. It knew that it's life was in danger and warded such attacks heavily, even at the expense of taking another cut elsewhere. Feinting another beheading attempt, Yurin waited until the last moment until the Shayol Ghul blade was commited to the defense, he dropped to his knees in one fluid, swift motion, Rivers Collide took the Fade at the knees removing the lower limbs of the Fade in one double swipe of his blades. Falling, it threw another vicious swipe at Yurin, obviously not caring whether it ended his life now.

Easily sidestepping the wild swing, Mog coldly stepped inside the Myrdraal's reach, stomping harshly on the remaining wrist, hearing the satisfying crunch of bones shattering beneath his heel. Crossing his arms, almost in a supplicating gesture, Dove Takes Flight removed the head of the Fade, then stepped hastily away as the body flailed around without a head to give it direction. As it sprayed the black blood, Mog watched with as near a smile as the Void allowed, he loved taking from the Dark One, and this was obviously one of his higher lieutenants. He had killed well over a hundred of the Eyeless in the past, but had never had to fight as hard as he did with this one.

He heard a clapping behind him. Dorian was gleefully clapping his hand yelling for an encore, Yurin turned and looked at the boy as if he'd gone mad.

"What in the Light is going on here?"

Was the most intelligent thing he could think to ask, his body recovering after the drawn out battle with the Myrdraal.

((More soon! Gotta go back on duty.))