Siege

*********************************************************************************************************"Berserker Rage?"

"It's a weapon berserker's trump card. At fifty percent, you enter an enraged state. More damage, more hyper armor, debuffs don't last as long. Nasty stuff like that. And it gets stronger the more you drop below fifty percent."

For the first time since the duel started, Darlia was forced to block with her katana, bracing it with the other hand, but the small blade wasn't nearly strong enough to stop Dethgargar's assault. With every hit she was pushed back, feet skidding, taking damage as well. Dethgargar abandoned all subtlety, striking again and again until steel on steel blended together to create a singular sound.

Now the shoe was on the other foot. It was all she could do to block.

The unrelenting cadence of the berserker's attacks forced her to a knee. Darlia was a nail and Dethgargar was the hammer intent on driving her physically into the stonework. Meliadol looked around to Bast and the crowd. No one had left. Instead they all watched, as if waiting.

Under everyone's discerning gaze, Darlia pushed herself back up to two feet. Down came the greatsword and a flash of light encompassed the two, blinding in its intensity. Meliadol caught just the briefest of images, a still frame of action, of Dethgargar taking a step backward as his sword was knocked away.

There were three bright crescent slashes in that still moment and blood fountained from Dethgargar's body; instead of backing up, the berserker let go of his greatsword, letting it fly from the recoil. Like a snake, his now free hand struck, wrapping around Darlia's throat, lifting her up as if to slam her into the ground!

Grab! Wasn't that a low level ability?

Darlia didn't seem bothered, the tendrils of her bandages wrapping around the berserker's hand to pry apart his fingers as she pushed off his body with her feet. Against the odds, she slipped out of his hands, flipping back a few times to create distance.

Dethgargar was already moving in, fist leading the way. Her bandages moved to defend, wrapping around his arm and using it like a slingshot to propel Darlia ever further away. It was obvious she was trying to maintain the little bit of distance she had fought for. But the berserker was fast…incredibly fast. He stayed right behind her.

"Hmmm, the next few seconds will determine who will win this." Bast said offhandedly, "This entire fight is about cooldowns and traded life. She tried to get him to fifty percent without trading too much hp. For that, she traded one of her longest cooldowns, the only thing capable to allow a blade dancer to fight on par with Berserker Rage. Now she has to survive long enough to use it again. Deth, on the other hand, has to trade enough hp to increase his stats so he can just kill her outright before Whirlwind of Biting Steel comes up. I bet he's pissed that she's not attacking back."

Dethgargar did indeed look furious, but Meliadol couldn't tell if that was just due to an ability, his natural state of face, or because of what Bast had said.

At least he had a bit of understanding though. So that was why she was mostly defending! If she fought back, the berserker would just get stronger! It was a delicate balancing act; take off too much hp, and the berserker would be able to kill her from the buffed stats of Berserker Rage; take off too little, and she wouldn't be able to finish the job with her second Whirlwind of Biting Steel, and she'd just die. How did she know the sweet spot? Meliadol certainly didn't know the answer, but he could tell she was far more experienced than he was.

"Who do you think will win?" Meliadol asked as the two combatants connected yet again, shock waves pounding out from their mutual blows.

"Hard to say. Deth got her to use Perfect Riposte to break away from his assault, and she had to use Disengage on his grab attempt, so two major defensive abilities are on cooldown. If he can land a grab on her Whirlwind of Biting Steel, so he can cancel it, he'll have this easily."

"You could just say 'oh, I think my friend will win!'." Meliadol muttered, which made Bast laugh.

Still, Bast's insight into the actions within the duel was like shining a light into a body of water, only to find out you couldn't see the bottom. It just further accentuated the point that Meliadol didn't know anything about this game, and that it would probably be quite a journey until he could call himself experienced. The depth of Nevergarden was deep, but not bottomless, and he found that knowledge and disparity didn't intimidate him. In fact, he felt something he hadn't in quite a while.

Excitement of the unknown.

The joy of learning a new system, of discovery, was burning inside, and he welcomed it. He had felt twinges of such longing earlier, back when he grouped with Bast and beat those skeletons, but this time it was no gentle burning ember. A part of him wanted to leave, with the winner of this duel unknown, and level up instead, that way he could join the big leagues as fast as possible and begin.

But he knew he couldn't do that yet. It would be best to do this proper, he felt. To learn as he explored, rather than to rush and disregard the experience, the perspective, of being a newb. Perhaps if he did, he could learn to love this game as much as Bast? He still felt reservations about Nevergarden, about a world created within a person's mind, but with the flames of possibility burning in his gut, he was willing, maybe even hoping, to be proven wrong.

A blow by Dethgargar's sledgehammer like fists sent Darlia skidding back, but this time she didn't make as if to dodge. No, she assumed a pose that Meliadol recognized immediately. Arms held out to the side with her eyes closed. Whirlwind of Biting Steel!

Could she dance with one sword only? The other three were scattered around, haphazardly.

Dethgargar seemed to have reached the same conclusion, sneering and leaping forward despite the very real danger. The air itself seemed to boil around the berserker's body, and blood streamed from multiple wounds, like a crimson banner as he soared through the air.

With a step and sweep, Darlia began her dance, her sword arcing up, missing Dethgargar's face by fractions of a hairsbreadth. This was it! Meliadol held his breath. Her attack had missed, and in came the berserker like a meteor, his massive hands held out before him. He would grab her and interrupt her dance!

Like a whip, her bandages shot out with incredible accuracy, grabbing the two swords off to the side!

One bandage jammed the sword into the ground, using it like an anchor as she pulled, bending backward, sliding on her knees and just barely slipping under the berserker's reach. But she was already back on her feet, the bandages whipping around like frenzied snakes.

If the previous dance was waves crashing on the beach, this one was no less than a tsunami looming over the horizon. Darlia slammed into the surprised berserker with everything she had. Swords flew, and she twisted and slipped away from every attack he made in kind. Again and again the swords came in at angles that no man could defend, and sparks screamed as the berserker leaned on his Iron Skin for even the slightest moment of respite.

With the hyper armor granted by Iron Skin, Dethgargar made one final, desperate attempt to grab the blade dancer. The berserker was huge now, muscles rippling, fully in the throes of his Berserker Rage. If he managed to halt her attack, it'd be certain victory. Yet she didn't dodge out of the way. She was fully in the dance now, and it was child's play for her to simply move to where he was not.

There was four flashes of light as her swords punished his whiffed attempt, and the final hit points of Dethgargar faded with them. With inhuman dexterity, the woman used her living armor to catch the rest of her swords, sheathing them in one smooth motion.

Dethgargar collapsed as a banner came down, words appearing on the flowing cloth.

Darlia wins!

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