I'm sorry.

Deitric's head canted to the side, watching as the bard forwent the mask he had worn for so long, and laid aside his weapon. He watched Saphen throw himself forward into the face of the oncoming metal flurry, practically clawing tooth and nail to strike at the tribesman.

I can't allow you to go any further than this.

He respected - truthfully, admired - his opponent. No matter what the brave put him through, the man thrashed and fought, accepting any pain necessary to return the favor. It required a certain mental toughness to do that. The barrier between champions was that of pain, whether or not a fighter had the guts to say "I don't care what happens" and to go through all the trials and tribulations placed before them.

While Saphen possessed that quality, the grit and determination, Deitric could not - would not - allow him to go any further. Watching impassively, the long-haired, bloodied warrior seemed to wait, watching as the plant-spear was readied to run him through.

And then--

--A flash of light. A cacophony of sound as a thunderclap erupted outward from the air between the two warriors, rumbling the stage they stood on. Deitric's long hair was momentarily sent fluttering on an ion-laden wind, but it was unseen from the flash of light that the lightning arc had blazed to life, blinding everyone around the stage and the pair of fighters on it.

Across the precious few feet between the two warriors, a lightning bolt had cast from Deitric's outstretched hand, aiming to catch the charging bard headlong in his chest. It wasn't where the metal was embedded, that was true; but the torso was the single largest target, and with enough force he could throw the smaller man backwards when the blast of electricity and concussive force struck.

The leather of his jacket's sleeve was twisted from heat and smoke wafted from the limb, but Deitric remained standing. When the flash of light dissipated, only then would the crowd see whether or not the bard had weathered the blast.