The hiss of steam and smell of burning flesh assailed Azrael's senses again and he snorted at the usage of the spell. Foolishness and arrogance, to think his spells could be so easily parried. Recklessness as well, to pull off such a bold move instead of dodging, like he should have. "You are foolish to think my flames can be so easily put out!"

The fight had been dragging on and on - not that Azrael disliked the rush of combat, but he was beginning to wonder how much more Vargas could take. He'd already taken multiple burns and Azrael still had lots of fire left burning within his stomach. But the Master had not admitted defeat yet. Only when he had or when Azrael himself was beat, would he dare call off the fight!

While Vargas was preocuppied trying to rub the flaming bile off his hand, Azrael landed and immediately used his momentum to turn and lunge forward, all four arms reared and ready to land strike after strike against Vargas. He wanted him on the defensive, so he could find a way to make him submit.

@Vargas (you can interpret the failure however you want)

ROUND 7/?

81%

ATTEMPT: lots of clawed strikes
DEFENSE: none
INJURIES: bruised jaw

- THE LEVIATHAN -

The same wasn't lost on Vargas. Admittedly, he could go for far longer than this; he'd fought on (and he imagined Azrael likely could, too) with far worse, but a sheer stroke of luck was always a very serious factor. One lucky hit could always kill even the most skilled opponent: ending it fast was important.

Not that he'd wanted to rush this, no. Azrael'd wanted a fight.

He hoped he'd given him one worthwhile. The question was--where did the demon draw the line of the fight being finished-? Vargas couldn't tell, and so again he maneuvered fast to deliver a definitive blow himself: a feint to one side (and the flurry, the lash of claws, was brutally violent despite it missing; he noted it, mentally acknowledging the damage such a strike could do from so many arms)--and then a lunge of his own, from the side, as Azrael struck out.

The intent was, again, to flip the big demon--one of Vargas's long arms now crashing in for the backs of his knees and upwards, so that hopefully he'd yank him off his feet (and onto his wings) before he could again take to the air.

Round: 7/?? ?
Attempt: Knock Azrael onto his back (take two!)
Defense: no lol
Injuries: scorched x2!

@Azrael

He snarled as his strikes, each delivered with brutal strength and vicious claws sharpened and ready to tear through flesh, missed, one after another. Perhaps it had been foolish to engage Vargas so closely when he had the upper hand in brute strength and combat. While Azrael's magic was potent and dangerous, he was not so skilled with combat - a flaw that he was more then well aware of.

A moment after Vargas feinted, Azrael tried to right himself, but the Leviathan was too quick. A hard strike against the back of his knees immediately knocked him backwards, too fast for his wings to pull out and stop his fall, too powerful to dodge or counter. He fell back with a roar of pain and crashed to the ground, just as Vargas intended, slamming down on his wings. He cringed at the feeling of slamming down on their thinner, less protected joints, hoping that he didn't break anything. That'd be a pain to fix.

Yet as he hit the ground, as pain laced up his bones, Azrael's mind was still on the attack. His collision with the ground sent a strong force of magicka through his body and into the stones below, causing violent tremoring that ripped at the rocks beneath them. He bared his teeth in a savage grin. He would not go on the defensive.

@Vargas

ROUND 8/?

72%

ATTEMPT: earthquake
DEFENSE: none
INJURIES: bruised jaw, bruised wings, on his back

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Its use of magic, he noted, was swift and instinctive. He very nearly praised Azrael aloud, despite being mid-battle, out of habit: an encouraging bellow of approval. He didn't, though--in part because he caught himself just in time and in part because he was too busy dodging the world falling apart around him.

The ground was shaking, lurching his feet this way and that beneath him, and stones were cracking and cascading down from above, crashing all around him. Only Azrael, at the epicenter, was truly safe. Vargas glanced up and grimaced, doing his best to avoid the worst of it, leaping and stumbling out of the way of the larger stones. One or two of the smaller he knocked away with his forelimbs; the rest he dodged aside from. It was touch-and-go, particularly with one 'hand' so burned as it was; his lurches were half limps.

He would have liked to have finished it then and there but the falling stones had put him on the defensive, and he struggled to also keep a wary eye on the demon for its inevitable attack as it recovered.

Round: 8/??
Attempt: Don't get hit by falling rocks
Defense: no lol
Injuries: scorched x2!

@Azrael

Ruby-Beta stood a safe distance away from the fight but watched with wide eyes at the vicious, powerful brawl that was happening in front of its eyes. All flame and claws and roaring, Master Vargas's unmatched physical strength against the demon's powerful flames. It was more grateful then ever that Master Vargas had agreed to take this fight instead of the ruby - it would have lost in seconds and walked away with some horrible burns, most likely.

It didn't get involved - why would it, just a bystander not strong enough to fight such an opponent head on - but of course, it would get involved in the end. The earth shook, sending Ruby-Beta stumbling this way and that, rocks were falling from the ceiling and suddenly it was dodging for its life.

But it wasn't enough. A large chunk of rock managed to strike its shoulder hard, making it yelp in pain as it stumbled forward and suddenly it was getting hit more and more, small rocks pelting its body and another, sharper rock opening a gash in its side. It curled up, gripping its neck and head to protect it from taking any fatal damage from the destructive spell.

The earthquake bought it valuable time - there was no dodging or defending for Azrael, who picked himself off the ground, safe from his own destruction. Vargas was too busy dodging the falling rocks and the cracks splitting across the earth to strike at him while he was down. He let out an approving growl to this affect, but did not relish in the moment. It wouldn't last for much longer and he intended on striking while the iron was hot, as the saying goes.

He didn't react to the ruby's painful yelps - if it could not avoid an attack not even directed its way, then it was of no concern to Azrael. He sucked in another breath and gave Vargas another direct blast of flames, giving him no time of respite between the rocks and the fire.

@Vargas

ROUND 9/?

72%

ATTEMPT: fire breath...again
DEFENSE: none
INJURIES: bruised jaw, bruised wings

- THE LEVIATHAN -

His attention had been almost entirely on Azrael--but Vargas would not have survived this long if one eye was not always on his surroundings, his situational awareness keen. Even still, he almost did notice too late--Ruby-Beta was cowering, struck and staggering, before Vargas realized that it had been in reach of the stone spell.

It wasn't exactly some sort of noble sacrifice that drove him, of course; it was simply that Ruby needed help--curling up, bleeding--that spiked renewed action. "Enough!" he bellowed, and bolted for the hybrid, skidding to try and position himself over it. He could take more damage than it could, certainly-? A hefty rock crashed down from overhead, bouncing off his shoulders, and Vargas's grunt was enough indication that it had hurt. He held up one forearm, glancing down, then up--and either his warning had come too late, or had been missed, because a torrent of Azrael's flame was cascading for him.

To back away now would be to expose Ruby-Beta to the brunt of it; so Vargas shoved forward, still shielding it, and curved down in a bowing posture, head twisted down and away from the flames. Still, the guttural, strangled roar that escaped him--and the black charring flickered across his flesh--was yet more proof that this magic was battering him.

"ENOUGH!" he bellowed again, and he hoped it was heard this time, because he did not want this spar to turn serious.

As it was-... He glanced down, squinting against the heat and pain, and hoped that Ruby-Beta was not too badly wounded.

Round: 9/...9? (vargas hopes)
Attempt: Protect Ruby-Beta
Defense: no lol
Injuries: scorched x3!

@Ruby-Beta (or whoever you want to post first really!)

Tensed and curled as it was, Ruby-Beta didn't initially process that the rocks had stopped falling for a few seconds, until the loud voice of Vargas bellowed over its shoulder. It flinched and looked up through its claws, surprised, before slowly uncurling, staring at its Master with disbelief. It didn't think that he would have broken the fight to protect it, especially when it had failed so badly to dodge out of the way (wasn't that what it was good at? Hiding?).

Then the blast of heat, and while the ruby was protected from the brunt of the flames, it still felt the temperature shift of nearby fire and it cringed as it smelled the stench of burnt flesh on the air. Dread hollowed its stomach and a sense of uselessness, so familiar to it now, threatened to drown any other thoughts. This was its fault. Vargas had lost the fight, or at least given it up, to save it. It grit its teeth and grabbed at the stone beneath it with its claws. "Master Vargas you don't have to-" but it was quickly cut off by the second bellow to stop the fight.

It clamped its mouth shut. It would do no good now. It looked away, the soreness of its wounded pride hurting far more then the injuries on its skin.

The warning did come too late - by the time Azrael realized that he'd swerved to protect Ruby-Beta, and by the time his voice was calling out to fight, the flame was already leaving his jaws. However, he quickly clamped them shut, swallowing the rest of the flame (to his great discomfort) to keep the Valkhound from taking too much unnecessary damage.

His glittering eyes glared at Vargas, flicking down to the cowering Beta beneath him. He could see a patch of red on its shoulder where the rocks had struck. He hadn't intended to harm anyone on the sidelines, but perhaps it should have known better, to stay away from such a ferocious clash. He curled a lip, wondering how he'd ever lost to this creature, attention turning back to Vargas. "You stopped the fight? Why? To protect this one?" Annoyance overcame anything else for the moment. Azrael had enjoyed this fight - the danger and thrill it had brought, the chance to let loose against an opponent so powerful. Ah, he hadn't this chance in so long! But once again, Ruby-Beta had spoiled it all.

But, then again, as his blood began to cool and the red slowly faded from his sight, he realized how sore he felt and the aching in his bones and throat. The fight had taken its toll on him, and on Vargas as well, from the many burns across his body. Perhaps...it had been a good thing they'd stopped the fight now, before either of them got seriously injured. This had been, after all, a battle for the pure joy of it, not a fight to the death.

He was quiet for a moment as his thoughts settled before folding his battered wings and rolling back his sore shoulders. "Fine. We stop. You fight well." The painful throbbing in his wings and jaw were a reminder of how hard they had fought. Yet despite his pain, and his opponent's, it had been a long time since he'd felt so alive and satisfied.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas pulled back, exhaling, sparing a glance up at Azrael before looking back down to Ruby-Beta. "-All right?" he asked it, stepping aside.

It was right; he didn't have to. But he wasn't about to risk one of the Forge (was that all it was?) over some form of initiation spar. He examined it briefly, then took a step aside and examined himself--the charred patches were painful, but they indicated Azrael's potency clearly. And when he looked up again at the demon, he noted with further approval that he was still tightly controlled, despite his power.

"Your magic is powerful, and you are disciplined. That is a valuable combination," he told him bluntly. "We could make use of you, and teach you further." He paused for a beat, calling on his magic, and felt it come in a faint wash: cooling, soothing, mending. He exhaled; with the adrenaline wearing thin, the pain was intensifying some. The mending, weak as it was, was some little relief.

"When we go to war you would fight by our side. You already have a name, and you already wander; you would not need to earn these things, but the right to reproduce, the right to order those of lower rank--that must be earned. And in turn, once they are earned, you might train the younger, or form your own spawn from the stones of Valkhounds." This last word was said with pride, of course. "Do you wish to join?" he finished bluntly.

If so, he'd have to reward Ruby-Beta for this: Azrael truly would be valuable.

It was with dim disappointment that he realized that it was likely more useful than many of the existing Forge; but that was Vargas's failing.

@Ruby-Beta