Morganoth had dodged their jaws again, much to Sabor's relief- even if they did throw them back across the sand just a bit. As of right now, there were perhaps bigger things to worry about, that being Drac, or well that's what Nemean called her. Sabor knew not her name, on if it was proper or not but she would unleash havoc upon the arena shortly he was sure. Still, he lunged at Morganoth again. Gaze flickering just briefly to the gurgling head that they dragged along. Sabor did his best to ignore it, approaching the eldrich creation with claws a'plenty in hopes to get them to yield.

He would not give up, it wasn't in his blood. What sort of protector would he be!? So he bellowed back his own call with a snarl.

"Yield!"

Round: 6/5
Attempt: Attack again, scratch and claw at anything!
Defense: Big ol' tusks + other cat things
Injuries: Bitten!!! + a few broken ribs + rips across shoulder/flank

During his earlier approach, he had been thrown back across the sand, only to dart toward Morganoth again- ever persistent. Though this only proved to be fruitless as Drac entered the arena. Throwing a torrent of chaos fueled lightning and thunder from her hide. Forcing ill fortune to rain down upon all who dwelled within it.

Sabor ran, the best he could; paws slightly sinking into the scarlet-soaked arena as ichor still trickled from his own open wounds. He wouldn't give up, as only in death would he stop, and well, perhaps that wasn't the best thing to declare in his heart. As no sooner as he reassured himself a chaotic bolt struck true, striking him in the middle of his spine. He yowled, a snarl morphing into a scream of genuine pain as blood spat from his throat. He tried to push himself only to falter, legs giving out in convulsions and sudden exhaustion, his body slid across the sand.

Another bolt struck him soon after, and the smell of singed flesh and fur fought the heavy scent of iron in the air. It seems he was done for, he turned his gaze, slightly eyes weary and in shock(haha). He could not call out to Morganoth, but he hoped the Eldrich Creation would be spared the absolute cruelty of whatever magic this was. Wasn't much of a fight to end it this way as far as he was concerned. But that was not his judgement call to make here in Deathmatch.

But hey, to Sabor it seemed Morganoth had won in the end. He only hoped he could remain conscious just long enough to congratulate the young warrior himself.

DEATHMATCH

Nemean's scream of bloodthirsty triumph nearly drowned out the roar of the crowd, which was probably half-magical anyway but who cared, right?! The spotlights swept a mad pattern across the arena floor, flashing over Draconua, Sabor, Morganoth--and lingering for a moment on the single, severed head still twitching in the dust.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! You two KNOW HOW TO PUT ON A SHOW! YEAAAH! That's what I'm TALKIN' about!" she bawled, overcome with brutal enthusiasm. "EXTRA CONFETTI FOR THESE GUYS!!!" -As if that were a reward; shimmering gold rained down from all directions, drifting on the bass-thumping air. The music took on a triumphant tone as the spotlights converged on Morganoth. "AND OUR WINNNNER!!! THEEEE HEART-EATER! THE SOULLLL-DEVOURER! HEEEE OF A THOUSAND HEAAAADS, MORGANOOOOTH! Can't wait to see more of THIS bad beast NEXT ROUND! Let's have a final round of applause... and clear the ring for the NEEEEXT DEATHMATCH!"

The magical roar of a magical crowd swelled. All was flashing lights and glitter, thumping music and the scent of blood.

This--THIS was what DEATHMATCH! was all about!

_____________

DEATHMATCH WINNER: Morganoth

Character: Morganoth Age: +3 (3rd Cycle) Magic Level: +1 (Fledgling) ROUND 1 Attempt: +16 Penalties: - ROUND 2 Attempt: +14 Penalties: - ROUND 3 Attempt: +8 Penalties: - ROUND 4 Attempt: - Penalties: - ROUND 5 Attempt: +8 Penalties: - ROUND 6 Attempt: +11 Penalties: - Total: 61

Character: Sabor Age: +5 (71st Cycle, limited) Magic Level: + 3 (Brawler) ROUND 1 Attempt: +12 Penalties: - ROUND 2 Attempt: +14 * Penalties: - ROUND 3 Attempt: +19 Penalties: - ROUND 4 Attempt: +13 Penalties: - ROUND 5 Attempt: +12 Penalties: - ROUND 6 Attempt: - Penalties: - Total: 75

NUMERICAL WINNER: Sabor

* Note: the technique Kick is intended to interrupt a spellcast. It has now been renamed Interrupt due to ongoing confusion (this wasn't the first time!)! For physical attacks, feel free to use Block.

@Morganoth @Sabor

Morgan drew themselves up from where they stood, hide smoking where they'd been struck by chaotic lightning. Each head rose up taller and taller as they reared, flaring out their wings before letting out a chorus of terrifying roars, bellowing their victory for all to hear.

They landed back down on their feet and snorted, taking one last narrowed look at Draconua before sluggishly making their way to Sabor.

"You fought well, friend," they said softly, lowering one head to brush against soft fur, whuffing softly as they reached out one of their smaller arms to touch one of Sabor's paws.

Sure they just beat the ever-loving shit out of this poor tiger, but they were still an honorable opponent and wouldn't just leave him to chrysalize in the middle of the arena. They reached down and picked up the tiger like one would a cat, with one arm supporting his legs and the other around Sabor's chest.

"I'm taking him," they announced, wing-walking their way to the exit with the tiger in their arms.

"We will meet after this, yes?", they asked him, tails swishing back and forth behind him, "I will wait and ensure you rest peacefully."

@Sabor

Nemean's scream rang out in bloodthirsty triumph but it all sounded, distant and distorted. Even as Sabor attempted to crane his neck to watch Morganoth unleash their roar of victory- that too was wavering. His heart ached, but not from any ill emotions of the loss but rather the bolts that had struck him and now wreaked havoc upon his body that was trying so hard to not crystalize this very instant.

He held no fear of death as Morganoth drew closer, they were a respectable warrior, they both were. This was after all a fight for a prize and nothing personal, or so he hoped- he had...maimed one of their many heads. Something that had Sabor feel a great regret. But still, he allotted himself to close his eyes just for a second or two. Feeling one of their faces rub against his fur with the faint words of friendship and praise.

He smiled a tiny bit. His brows soon furrowing as he clung to this realm and not the one calling him so sweetly. His few seconds of shut-eye though turned out to be quite a few moments more as before he knew it Morganoth was lifting him up and off the crimson-stained sand below. He was grateful, managing to open his mouth just a tad to speak. Ichor faintly flowing from his tongue and maw, the damage inflicted far beyond what he could viably sustain for much longer.

"Congratulations, you fought well Morganoth."

He coughed, a hard and pained wheeze; he was struggling. Some limbs still twitching from the very chaotic currents that fried and overwhelmed what was now left of his living nerves. He waited, clinging to anything he could to stay here. At least until Morganoth placed him once again upon the ground elsewhere in safety.

Only then did he try to look at the eldrich creation. Opening his maw again, white fur stained a dark red from a hard battle fought; and singed black from ill-placed chaos. He smiled weakly but genuinely.

"I-I am...sorry about your head"

He coughs, harder now as diamond slowly creeps along his teeth.

"Was not my full intention"

Another wheeze and cough of ichor colored his paws anew with crimson.

"I hhope-they can h-aid you."

Now over half of his maw, his words began to slur as it spread through over his sight and back of his tongue.

"Thhank you, mhy ffyriend.-I vill see you-vhery shoon."

He placed his head upon his paws,tail curling around his form in comfort. A few final words left him before he was enveloped by his very stone.

"Tehl me all abouht your vihctory- when I return."

He would be back. He was the golden protector after all and his story did not end here.

[exit into chrysalis]

Oh, well wasn't this just sickly sweet! A beautiful picture, dramatic and tragic--Nemean couldn't let it go without theatrics, of course.

The spotlights turned a sad, dim blue, and swept to Morganoth as they picked Sabor up in their arms. (One smaller spotlight lingered on the severed head, because Nemean was just like that.) A loud, deeply tragic and romantic music began to play, rife with strings and miserable piano. The slow thud of a drum was timed with Morganoth's footsteps. It wasn't really mocking so much as desperately dramatic.

Giant violins appeared, glowing, floating, around the arena, and played their tune. And every word Sabor spoke was, belatedly, played back: magnified, given dramatic backdrop echo, a tragic bass sob in it.

Waaaaaa, waa-waa-waaaaaaaa... wa-wa-wa-wa-waaaaaaaaa....

"How beautiful," sniffled Nemean, wiping fake tears from beneath her eyes. Really, it was good directorial work. Her modern era debut!

As the pair left the arena, the lights all dimmed, and the sound of magic, hushed crying could be heard throughout the stands.

Nonexistent curtain close.

Fin.

@Morganoth and @Sabor (for visibility)

Oh this was nice. Music! Morganoth liked music.

They set Sabor down and lay down too, watching over him with a curious sort of gaze, almost like a cat watching an injured bird between their legs. Did they really feel pity, or were they doing this for the show?

At the soft, nearly inaudible whine as diamond started to encase Sabor, perhaps it wasn't either. Regret, sorrow, sympathy.

"I have many for a reason," they assured gently, "Sleep well, Sabor, I hope to see you when I win."

They waited until he was completely enveloped to stand, slowly pushing themselves up and onto their feet with a strained hiss. They were exhausted, their heads sagging as they dragged themselves along to a medic to get healed. Hopefully they'd find themselves completely fine and would move on to the next round.

For Sabor.

Exit.