He peered in quietly, blue eyes a strange contrast to the hot ember-light of the Underforge.

The Sentinel was mostly grown, now, his lanky body just striking true adulthood; he was still a little gangly, a little lean, but near nine feet tall and at last fitted to his black metal halberd.

His exploration was nearly complete. Soon, he would return to Draco. But while he was here, he was wondering about... armor. This was a Forge--he knew that. He had been here once before. Would there be anything, here, to fit him? Anything... useful?

It was dark, down here--or, at least, lit by a red fireglow, not the bright orb-light of upper Leo. It looked like a dragon's den, full of churning heat and sizzling air, and he wondered vaguely if this were anything like what his predecessor had seen. Oliver had told him of dragons, and of how Black had fought them.

Had Black ever set foot in this place, then? The Sentinel did not know, and it was a passing thought: he was here, and he would explore this place.

The soft, rhythmic clink of halberd haft on stone accompanied near-silent footfalls, his misshapen body leaning weight down the metal to move. His attention cut this way, then that, as he looked for abandoned armor: for something discarded, perhaps, but useful.

@Mirac

Mirac had been asleep. He'd hijacked a sword stand, post thorough destruction of the previous occupants. The clink of the halberd was noticeable. Different from the low roar of furnaces. Mirac's eyes blinked open. His red eyes searched the immediate area around him. Any weapon was competition. And if it were a sword, it was to be destroyed. But he saw nothing. Nothing. Mirac rose.

Quiet as he listened for the sound of metal moving. He followed the direction of the Halberd's soft clinks. But once he was within range, Mirac was quick to notice the intruder. Glowing blue eyes in the oranges of the Underforge. Its' jaw creaked, and then with a tearing sound, split in a yawn. Ichor flowing from the freshly opened blade.

But rather than speak with simply his voice, Mirac pressed his magic into the other creature. Well, he tried to at least. Mirac opened his mouth, prepared to speak both out loud and within The Sentinel's mind."YOU approach MIRAC's lair." Mirac said, and immediately regretted. His voice had not projected into Sentinel's, but within his own. His voice felt like it was at least a hundred octaves, and it echoed over and over again in the sword's skull in a hellish feedback loop.

"AAAGH! FUCK!" Mirac said. Mirac screwed his eyes shut, as if to shut out the noise. He cut the magic off as quick as he could, but phantom echos of his words still repeated. His wrap moved to rub his crossguard, then after a moment, his eyes blinked open once again.

"What do you WANT here? I am MIRAC, the one TRUE sword made for MAIMING and MURDERERING." The sword said. His eyes drifted towards the Halberd the creature leaned on. He growled. "You come carrying a FALSE weapon! You DARE to intrude upon Mirac's HOME like this? State your PURPOSE here. RELINQUISH your SECRETS to me at ONCE."

"speak" think

@The Sentinel

The screeching voice had him spinning on his heel, looking this way and that in an attempt to spot its origins. It took him a moment to spot the sword, and he might have doubted itself had it not immediately declared itself one.

He pushed more fully upright, staring down at it, hand still clasping the halberd's haft.

It had questions for him, and he considered them--half-intent, serious, patiently giving them consideration; half-confused. The whispers rose to a roar in his mind, making it hard to think. They screamed of violence, of destruction, of anguish. He had to focus to think past them.

"The Sentinel bears no secrets," he rasped, at last, voice an echoing, hollow sound. "It seeks... armor." He did not comment on Mirac being a talking sword--his own weapon whispered sinuous urges toward violence into his mind incessantly as it was. This was nothing new or strange to him, though he did note that Mirac's language seemed a little more... foul.

"It is a weapon-? Where is its wielder, then? It seeks to learn. To fight. To learn, from fighting." He took a step closer, eyeing the strange, jawed blade over. "Has it anything to teach him-?"

@Mirac

"Arrr...mor?" Mirac said. His eyes glanced around him. Nothing but metal shapes, and the odd weapon. "What is ARMOR? What does ARMOR do? Do you...eat armor?" Mirac clicked his teeth together. "Mirac was placed here by his previous wielder. Mirac does not know where she has gone. Her name rhymed with tear. Mirac likes tearing. But she is in a place called 'peggy-sis'." Mirac had, to be honest, been expecting Aerie to show up once again. But she hadn't, and it confused the sword. "Mirac could find peggy-sis." He said confidently.

Mirac squinted at the halbered. He disliked it, of course. But it wasn't a sword. Not enough to draw his ire, for now. "Why has Sentinel's weapon not spoken? Mirac wishes to hear its' voice. Does it FEAR the superior weapon?" Whatever the answer, it didn't hold Mirac's attention for long. Sentinel had said the magic words. "Fighting?" Mirac said, his eyes glittering with childish glee. "Mirac FIGHTS! Mirac is FIGHT! Mirac is battle and BLOODSHED! Dismemberment and destruction given form!"

"Mirac will save his questions. Mirac craves COMBAT!" Without warning, Mirac's magic lashed out. It took a moment for the spell to form, a shape of energy the sword hadn't used before. Purple-black electricity crackled up its blade, slow enough for the Sentinel to predict what Mirac would do with it. With an audible clap, the electricity arched from Mirac's blade, and struck at The Sentinel's location.

"speak" think

Round: 1/?
Attempt: Electrocute Sentinel
Defense: N/A
Injuries: Burned self from electrocution (yeah already)

@The Sentinel
((forgot to leave drafts so double post deleted on seffy oops lol))

He did not know what it intended, and he was still mulling over all its angered words--and attempting to formulate a coherent response--when the sword began to crackle with violet electricity.

The Sentinel had seen such things from Draconua before, albeit certainly at a distance. He only knew the very basics of electricity, and certainly not the science behind it, but he knew that it seemed to take certain routes, at least.

His instinct was to hold the halberd before him, and stand behind it. It was an attempt more to block the void lightning than to redirect it, though if he were lucky it might accidentally do just that--with the halberd acting as a metallic ground.

He still felt brief searing shock through his palms, and fingers--muscle-wrenching agony--but the worst of it, at least, seemed by bypass him. And it was not as bad as it could have been; a flex told him that he was still quite capable of gripping his weapon's haft.

Perhaps he would be given the opportunity to strike back--or maybe the... sword... would press its own attack.

The Sentinel looked to it. Likely, he'd be given no time to speak--or even act--before it struck again.

Round: 1/?
Attempt: "block" electricity by redirecting
Defense:
Injuries:

@Mirac

Mirac did not care that the lightning had not left Sentinel maimed. Did not care that Sentinel hadn't made a single noise in pain. Mirac was in combat. Everything up to this point, it had been wholly worth it. Mirac was fighting again. Though it did not feel as right, as fufilling when he being swung. Mirac could find joy in other things, however.

He opened his jaw, and a torrent of violet flame came, aimed at The Sentinel. The flames licked at his own jaws, the heat searing, the pain immeasurable. His eyes screwed shut, and he snapped his jaws closed. He could still feel his gums, his flesh, crackle and bubble from the remnant heat. Mirac hadn't been expecting the flames to be so strong. So painful. A sharp noise left him. Laughter. His eyes blinked open.

"BURN! BLEED! AGONY!" Mirac barked.

"speak" think

Round: 2/?
Attempt: Burn sentinel instead
Defense: N/A
Injuries: Burned self(twice)
((Sorry sentinel oh no))
@The Sentinel

Blue eyes snapped upward.

He was on the defensive--forced onto it. There was little he could do bar leap, jump, try to avoid the fire arcing out toward him in a sudden black-violet blast.

He leapt, a swift surge of lean muscle that carried him into a roll across the floor. He felt the voidflame course over his back, a roar of ice-cold heat (what was that?) that bit at his muscle, seared the fur along his spine. A half-suppressed roar of pain escaped him, and despite his well-timed leap he knew that it was a powerful blast--one strong enough that it still caught him on the outer edges of its blast.

The Sentinel had never seen a sentient sword, before. He had no time to think about it, and even if he had, the pain of the new burns searing his back would have driven all thought from his mind.

He was lost in the battle, instead--driven to dodge, leap, jump, struggling to stay one step ahead of Mirac's strikes. Perhaps if it slipped up even once, he might have a chance to plan or to launch his own attack--but right now he was reacting, moment by moment, to the attacks thrown his way.

Round: 2/?
Attempt: Jump out of the way of the worst of that-
Defense:
Injuries:

@Mirac

The half muffled noise of pain was music to Mirac's ears. "You feel it too? The PAIN! This is how combat SHOULD BE! How life should be ENJOYED" Slow as he was without a wielder, Mirac drifted towards The Sentinel. Giggling in glee. "Mirac enjoys this...TEACH FIGHT. Now hold still! SENTINEL! FOE!"

He bared blackened fangs, oily saliva dripping from his destroyed gums. A grin, a snarl, a wince of pain. Both were the exact same on Mirac. "Relish in the TORMENT Mirac brings you!" He cried. "And stop FUCKING moving!"

Mirac reached out with his magicka, iron teeth gritted, anger lacing the cast. He was using his magic randomly, no goal in mind, but to strike his foe. This time, though the cast came from Mirac, it did not spawn from him. It came from underneath Sentinel.

A puddle of oil seeped through the floor of the underforge, staining the stone ground. And from the puddle rose a single limb. It was barely formed, frail and humanoid in shape. But it reached out for a limb of Sentinel all the same.

"speak" think

Round: 3/?
Attempt: make sentinel stop moving?
Defense: N/A
Injuries: Burned self(twice)
@The Sentinel

Just as he came to his feet, teeth gritted against this new pain (and eyes flaring up, at last, with anger), something stopped him. He took one stride toward the sword and then nearly tripped as he found his other leg... restrained.

He glanced down at it, and then at Mirac, and a sound escaped him like a growl--but distorted, empty, more a rasping and rippling wet exhale than anything truly animal. He didn't gesture, or move, but his will was there and it lashed out: an attempt to simply remove the sword from existence, for a moment. To banish it to the Void, long enough for the Sentinel to free himself, and perhaps even to close the distance to where Mirac was.

It was an... unwelcome situation, being on the receiving end of this hostility, and being forced only to react, unable to launch an assault: if he could stall the creature and keep it away for a moment, perhaps he could strike an attack of his own.

If he managed, he would turn to freeing himself with tugs of leg and hacks of halberd-blade--but that would take additional time.

Round: 3/?
Attempt: Remove Mirac from this plane in order to buy time
Defense:
Injuries: Burned back, slightly burned hands

@Mirac

strong language

One moment Mirac was in the Underforge, subjecting the Sentinel to a barrage of magic. The next, he was nowhere. There was nothing. Not the feeling of air against its grip. Not the low sounds of the underforge, nor the rasping sounds of the Sentinel. There was, however, a new strange sensation. Grasping at his blade.

No, it came from his blade. Something writhing. Mirac blinked, his red eyes the only light in that primordial darkness. To say he was unhappy to be here, after all the fun he'd just had, was an understatement. "What the FUCK!" Mirac said. "What is this? Who--what has placed Mirac here? What has Mirac been placed in?" He hissed. His voice did not echo.

"What ARE you?" He said. "Another FOE? Come to MIRAC, come to fight him as well?" His eyes glittered with joy. There was one small issue. With nothing around it, there was nothing for Mirac to target. But there was himself. Without giving it any more thought, Mirac lit himself on fire. The burn came quickly, but the fire did not stick to a body of chitin and iron shards well. Through gritted teeth, and a burgeoning grin, Mirac spoke. "Does this HURT you?" He cried. "Do you beg for Mirac's MERCY?"

"speak" think

Round: 4/?
Attempt: burn void to death
Defense: N/A
Injuries: Burned self(thrice)
@The Sentinel