He found himself, for the moment, entangled in tentacle. He was unaware of Mirac's struggles attacking the darkness, knowing only that his hands slipped where he briefly tried to grip the halberd, and that his stumble as he fought to pull free tore at the newly-seared skin along his back.

He had not yet fought an enemy like this.

One that fought not to spar, but to kill. He had been prepared for it, well enough: Dewberry and James had both expounded on the necessity of finishing such a battle quickly. So, for that matter, had Vargas. But it was still his first experience with such a thing, and he felt an urgency that he had not felt before.

The drive toward unquestioning violence was abrupt in him, but strong. The intent to simply destroy the sword was a powerful one--but destroying a thing like that was, he gauged, difficult or impossible. It was... a sword.

How did one kill a sword-?

With a grunt he tightened his hands around the halberd's haft. The tentacle was not all that strong, but it was slippery and persistent. He brought his axe around in a series of quick, light chops, hoping to hack it away so as to give himself enough time to get to where Mirac had vanished. But the blade slipped off the goopy muscle; unless the tentacle somehow died or faded on its own, the Sentinel was still stuck fast.

Undoubtedly, the sword would be reappearing any second now...

Round: 4/?
Attempt: Lots of slashes with the halberd... try to break free
Defense:
Injuries: Burned back, slightly burned hands

@Mirac

The void flickered out of view suddenly, and Mirac was left dazed. He blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust from no sensory input, to all of it. But Sentinel's telltale blue glow brought him back to reality. The sword blinked, watching as the limb that grasped Sentinel fell to pieces.

"There you are!" Mirac said. Mirac's grin widened, and flakes of burnt carapace flaked off. It was an understatement to say that Mirac was in pain. But, more importantly, Mirac was having fun. The most fun it'd ever had in its short list of experiences, save killing the lesser deer with Aerie.

And with the adrenaline coursing through it, it would take a while for it to notice the extent of the damage it was doing to itself. "Still here, FOE!" The blade began. "Mirac does not know what that was! But Mirac has KILLED IT!" Mirac said. His voice held a tinge of pride.

"SUFFER!" He said. His blade lit up in violet, arcs of electricity gathering. and sizzling carapace where it struck. Then, abruptly, the lightning struck for the Sentinel with the crash of thunder.

"speak" think

@The Sentinel
Round: 5/?
Attempt: electrocution(again)
Defense: N/A
Injuries: Burned self(four-ice)

There were many things he wished to do--if he'd had the time.

Drown the sword in darkness, so that it simply could not see him. Banish it entirely, and keep it there. Smash it with his own blade.

But he had not had the chance to be creative, or fierce, in this battle--he was again forced on the defensive, attacked the moment he tore a limb free. Again, it was a matter of last-second reaction and that alone. Again, he brought up the halberd, thrusting it to the ground and using it to hold himself up--but as he glanced up, Mirac was reappearing and this time he was not quick enough to readjust his grip.

The halberd perhaps saved him from death but that was all; void lightning coursed in a stark shock through his body, locking limbs and bringing up coils of smoke. Pain and anger roiled through him, his body dropping to one knee and then the other, heat searing through each spasming muscle and bringing with it fury.

He felt his hands char, tendrils of smoke rising as the last of the lightning faded; a twist of smoke from burnt flesh escaped his jaws. He was left there for the moment, kneeling, keeping himself up by virtue of his clamped grip on the halberd's haft and nothing more.

Round: 5/?
Attempt: Ground the void lightning... again
Defense: just the metal halberd
Injuries: Burned back, slightly burned hands

@Mirac

strong language

Mirac drifted over to Sentinel's dropped form. Burned, just as he was. Mirac observed The Sentinel for a moment. Before he laughed. "That was FUN. Did you have fun, too?" Mirac said. He waited for a reply for a second, before realizing the state in which the Sentinel was. Locked limbs, smoke curling off him. Mirac observed all of this. "Are you DEAD?" Mirac blurted out. "Shit!"

"You are not bleeding. Mirac has killed once, and it was BLEEDING. But you are not." Mirac thought for a moment. Maybe there were other kinds of dying. "Mirac does not like DEAD things. Mirac will prevent you from dying. Mirac wishes to 'teach fight' AGAIN. Stop being DEAD and become ALIVE."

Mirac reached out with his magicka, and a oily limb formed from behind Sentinel. It attempted to encircle him, to lift him up. However, the instant it touched sentinel, it collapsed into a puddle of oil. Mirac blinked. "Why is Mirac's magic FAILING? Mirac is POWERFUL." He said, unaware of the state his body was in. Mirac unwound the wrap on his grip. He offered it to Sentinel, singed as it was. It was likely to be just as useful as the now-deceased tendril. "Mirac LIKES you." He concluded.

"speak" think

@The Sentinel

For a moment, there was little to process bar the pain and fading spasms. It felt as though his heart were jumping erratically in his chest, as though each limb were jerking and twitching. The pain was extreme, and he knew almost at once that it could have killed him, had he not been gripping the halberd.

Or chrysalized him, at the very least.

As it was he could barely move, his jaw locked tight, shudders running over his shoulders. As the ringing in his ears faded, he became aware that Mirac was speaking: it was something of a blur but the sword hadn't intended to kill him, he could gather that. Still, when the sudden black tentacle appeared, reaching for him, he flinched, magic lashing out blindly to protect him. The entire cave was plunged into immediate, pitch darkness, so that the Sentinel could see clearly. Too late it registered that Mirac shared the corruption of his magic; he didn't know whether it bore his darkness, or not. Could it, too, see better in the dark-?

Whatever the case, there was only oil around him--and he realized that the tentacle, in his moment of abrupt urgency, had dissolved.

...Well, here they were, then. Two Corrupted creatures who both referred to themselves in the third person, about to have a conversation.

The Sentinel took a rasping breath, ignoring the burning at the bottom of his lungs. Fingers flexed around the halberd's haft--painful, seared, but they could move, at least. After long contemplation, he spoke.

"The Sentinel... did not... have fun," he decided aloud, and then--with an agonized grunt--shoved up from his near-collapsed position back into something standing. Swaying, but standing.

He did not bother to return the light. It was easier to see in pitch blackness and it was a safeguard, in any case, in the event that this creature didn't share his magic entirely. Well, at least it had intended a spar, after all--a practice fight--and not murder, as he'd come to believe mid-fight. "It has been told," he rasped, rolling one shoulder with a pained grimace, "not to kill, if the battle is no battle."

"Don't stab me through the throat in a spar," was more what he'd been told, annoyed, by the Master.

"But the Sentinel will not die. Why," he went on, voice hollow, "is it a sword?"

His stonegiver had had a child named 'Sword.' He knew of this, through one of the other children. But an actual, living, speaking sword? This, he had not encountered.

This... was strange.

And in the black, he watched it.

@Mirac

Character: Mirac Age: +2 (2 Cycles) Magic Level: +3 (Pupil) ROUND 1 Attempt: +11 Penalties: -0 ROUND 2 Attempt: +20 Penalties: -0 ROUND 3 Attempt: +9 Penalties: -0 ROUND 4 Attempt: +9 Penalties: -0 ROUND 5 Attempt: +18 Penalties: -0 Total: 72

Character: The Sentinel Age: +4 (4 Cycles) Magic Level: +5 (Transcendent Brawler) ROUND 1 Attempt: +19 Penalties: -0 ROUND 2 Attempt: +12 Penalties: -0 ROUND 3 Attempt: +18 Penalties: -0 ROUND 4 Attempt: +2 Penalties: -0 ROUND 5 Attempt: +3 Penalties: -0 Total: 63

WINNER: Mirac

@Mirac @The Sentinel

Mirac blinked, his eyes trying to adjust to the sudden darkness. He had no idea what'd happened. He clapped his jaws together. A violet-black flame lit up the tip of his blade, an aftershock of flame lancing up him and settling on his wrap. It certainly didn't look pleasant, but the sword didn't seem to mind the flames eating at him, nor the burning and crackling pain. With the new light, his glaring slit eyes scanned the dark. He wasn't sure where to look, until he heard the rasping voice of The Sentinel. His red eyes locked on to him, squinting to see. "HELLO!" He said cheery.

"Oh, Sentinel did not have fun?" He hummed, thinking of ways to have fun. Mirac's concept of fun was very limited. "We may battle AGAIN! Oh--or NEARLY kill lessers. Mirac likes nearly killing! Whenever Sentinel desires, we will have fun the next time! Mirac LIKES that you have not died. Dying is BAD." He said. "Mirac has been told not to kill, so that you can nearly kill your opponents again!" Sentinel's next statement was a puzzle. Mirac had trouble parsing the idea of a battle not being a battle. Luckily, Mirac was here to correct Sentinel's mistake. "It is ALL a battle. All fights are a battle! Is a spar not a battle?"

Mirac said. Sentinel's final statement was a mystery. It was a potentially philosophical question. Why was Mirac a sword? For what purpose were they in the caves? Surrounded by other, inanimate swords, just as useful? Much to think over. However, Mirac did not think. "Mirac is to be wielded! Mirac KILLS better as a sword." He concluded. "Mirac must DESTROY other swords. Mirac must DESTROY his wielder's opponents in combat! So Mirac IS a sword. Why is Sentinel NOT a sword? Sentinel could FIGHT better if he were a sword! Does Sentinel wish to be a sword, like Mirac?"


"When I speak."

When I think.

@The Sentinel ((dont mind the mildly scuffed table))

To many, the logic of Mirac would have been questionable. For that matter, so was the Sentinel's. But he immediately understood how to explain himself to Mirac; the sword itself handed him the key to open its own comprehension.

That is to say, it was talking about "nearly-killing;" and it didn't understand the difference between battle and spar. Well, this was easy enough to rectify. Stretching himself a little (skull-like face half-wincing in pain) as the tremors wore down, The Sentinel began to speak. "A battle is for the killing. A not-battle: a spar--this is for the nearly-killing," he explained. "The magic in the sword perhaps would have killed the Sentinel. Nearly-killed, by chance alone." He considered. "Who has told it not to kill? Why must it not kill?"

The wisps of shadows around his halberd coalesced briefly as he set it down; and then he stepped forward, reaching clawed fingers for Mirac's hilt. He tried to pick it up, to heft it, to swing it briefly in a strong (if still slightly spasming) arm. "The Sentinel does not wish to be a sword," he said at last, which probably wasn't a sentence he'd expected to ever have to say. "It has seen many designs of the Masters. Mirac's is... of interest," he admitted.

He could fathom that there were probably lots of great uses for a sentient, foulmouthed, magic-casting sword, even if he couldn't quite think of them all at the moment. "Does it wish to join the Sentinel?" he added, head tilting to one side. "We may hunt. And feed. -What does the sword eat?"

...Did it eat-?

@Mirac

"AH! That makes sense!" Mirac for the most part at least could grasp that spars were for not killing. However the idea of battles was strange to him. "There are situations in which...Mirac SHOULD kill? These...BATTLES?" He asked. The question of Murder and not murder had Mirac thinking. Mirac deliberated for a while. Trying to remember the reason that killing things was bad. "Becauseee...eh," Mirac began. He sat on that word for a long time, jaw half parted.

"Aha! MIRAC remembers! Aerie told Mirac that things DIE when you KILL them. Mirac will not kill, because things that are killed die! And when they die, they cannot fight anymore! Mirac would like to kill them again! Not just once!"

Mirac watched Sentinel with a sort of curiosity. He placed the halberd on the ground. His eyes squinted at the weapon. However, it was too far beneath Mirac. Too far for him to care about it, besides a disdain at its existence. If Mirac were a tool of gold, the halberd was akin to a particularly sharp rock. Mirac realized belatedly that The Sentinel intended to pick him up.

Mirac would not just let The Sentinel pick him up, however. Mirac would glue himself to The Sentinel's arm, his wrap-limb tightening around The Sentinel's own. "YES!" Mirac roared. "Mirac is a WEAPON to be WIELDED! Mirac is an extension of The Sentinel's WILL! Sentinel will TAKE Mirac with--Mirac will SLAY The Sentinel's FOES! Cause untold DESTRUCTION! WREAK HELL AND HAVOC! Mirac will consume WHATEVER The Sentinel WISHES!"

His excitement sent images of blood and death and fresh red wounds racing through Mirac's mind, interspersed with horrifying images of relaxation and calm. Mirac would impart the good memories into Sentinel. Mirac would share a fraction of his excitement, and with that in mind, Mirac's magicka reached for Sentinel.

With the fervor of twenty overexcited toddlers, Mirac would attempt to press his mind into Sentinel's. While at first there was a goal to it, Mirac simply ended up spamming Sentinel's mind with a repeated command of "TAKE ME." Like most things Mirac did, the spell was over the top. Perhaps a little too much. A lot too much. A tidal wave of will forced into the Sentinel's mind.

"LINK WITH ME, WIELDER," Mirac said aloud. "Mirac will unleash his TRUE power, spread pain in our WAKE!"

speak think

@The Sentinel

The Sentinel's mind--should Mirac be able to sense it--was the polar opposite of its own. Where it was impulsive, red with violence and passion and energy, the Sentinel's was cold logic and slow pacing. That isn't to say there wasn't the potential for sudden violence: but it would, for the most part, be empty of feeling.

The pulsing command, then, was simply accepted--absorbed--into that blank logic: 'TAKE ME' accepted with a sort of,
I will take you. Yes; that made sense. The sword binding itself to him was a curiosity, and the Sentinel lifted it to examine it without much alarm.

"A thing may be a threat. A threat is to be killed," he answered. "Killed, before it may bring death." Granted, he'd failed at defending himself properly from Mirac, but that didn't change the core of it--if anything it proved his point. If Mirac had wanted to, it might've been able to kill the Sentinel when he was spasming with its strange power.

At length, he spoke again--after a moment's long consideratoin. "The Mirac wishes to fight..?"

Perhaps they could seek out a battle--or a spar.

@Mirac