6587/MECC: N'Raha vs Mortimer

From Multiverse Crisis MUSH
Jump to: navigation, search
MECC: N'Raha vs Mortimer
Date of Scene: 14 May 2019
Location: Shrine of Adversity
Synopsis: First Round MECC action between Raha and Mortimer Balman
Cast of Characters: Mortimer Balman, N'raha Tia, Sarracenia, 7002, Inga

Mortimer Balman has posed:

     The arena is simplistic in design, with no real frills- just a big, flat floor made of metal and naugght else. Final Destination, no items, Catte only.

     As the crowds settle in and the cameras turn toward the arena, Mortimer walks out of his side and starts making his way forward. The music.. Stalls, though, and shorts out. This causes Mort to pause briefly and look up toward the speakers. There's several moments of sound techs frantically scrambling before they finally getting things fixed, and then after a bit more anticipation..

     (Music: Dezi Arnaz - Cuban Pete, I Love Lucy remix) There is finally an intro song. ...Clearly not the one that was intended judging by the old badger's confused face, but he shrugs it off and begins salsa dancing up to his side of the arena. He's actually pretty good, and follows the beat perfectly. Once he's in on his side, the music with slowly fade and the spotlights will turn toward where N'Raha is supposed to come in.

N'raha Tia has posed:
    Let it never be said that N'Raha cannot make an entrance himself.

    Not that he's going to make one tonight though. Or, you know do anything more than what he's set out to do. Unlike in previous years, this is not a hot blooded young kitten looking to show the world he had some claws. Hadsome bite to himself. No. Raha's faced the world already. Now this? This was just practice.

    Though there's more than a little pagentry still involved here, as the catman stalks his way up to the platform. People might be used to seeing him in casual clothes or care free summer attire. Not tonight though. TOnight, he's out here in full plate, an armored long skirt sweeping past his thighs and calves. The metal glistens slickly red in the light of the stadium, gold and silver inlay along the contours showing keenly in the light. And in his hands, he's carring Bravura, one of the weapons of the Zodiac Braves.

    He takes his place, and lifts his visor, looking to Mortimer, and then the crowd. "Come to face the Crimson Marvel, Balman?"

Sarracenia has posed:
     With promises of cake and entertainment, Sarracenia has made her way to their arena. And once she is here, the already frantic fight organizers figure she must be here to announce. And so, with some pushing and shoving and confused protests Sarracenia ends up in the announcer's booth. She finally explains that she is only here for cake, but they insist that since she is here she announce anyway. And since Sarracenia -does- love to hear herself talk...

     "Welcome one and all to what promises to be a magnificent fight! I am the amazing Princess Sarracenia Sundew, and I will be bringing you all the action! Contestant number one is a fiery bagger from a post-apocalyptic world full of magical and dangerous creatures...!" More quietly. "...are you sure it is supposed to be bagger? I am fairly certain he is a badger of some kind..." Pause. "...Mortimer Balman! The Demonflame!"

     "Contestant number two is a catman from a world known for its own crazy, nearly world-ending monsters! The Crimson Marvel, N'raha! He is also an expert at cooking and baking, and I would not be here if it were not for his promise of cake!"

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mortimer lets out a laugh at N'Raha's taunt. "I love the armor, lad! Very lovely aesthetics." He cracks his knuckles and grins a bit, as his eyes' sclera goes from white to black. "Let's see just how tough it really is." A big cloud of smoke is exhaled from his nose, and he rockets from his spot in the arena at beyond-human speed, closing the distance between him and the Light Warrior rapidly and looking to bring his fist right into the stomach region of N'Raha's armor.

Mikoto Shimizu (7002) has posed:
This might be Mikoto's first time out into the multiverse as a whole, but the first time is literally being a massive tourney like this, is almost overwhelming!  So many people, so much going on, so many noises and so much /stuff to eat/.  However, with a little luck and effort, she managed to finally sit down in the seats, and with a little bit of pulled strings managed to get right behind the announcer's section.  

The woman was young, probably a third or a fourth year in high school.  Short black hair with a small ponytail in the back.  Black eyes look out over the arena from a good section as she slurps on a big gulp full of local soda.  She also has a hot dog covered in cheese and other condiments.  Currently, she is wearing a dark green shirt, with a pair of black slacks.  

When Raha comes out, she cheers; "Wooo!  Go, cake guy!"

N'raha Tia has posed:
    That well muscled and contoured region of that armor. Why is it well muscled and contoured? Because it's fancy and magical, that's why.

    The catman though, grins behind that viso, and raises the axe just enough to blunt that blow into that thick plate. There's a dull crunch-thud of Fist on Metal, and.... a laugh from Raha. "Not bad. You're not really trying to hit me yet though, are ya?" That laugh shifts into a lion's roar, the Miqo'te letting out his Inner Beast, tapping into the Warrior's Wrath. And then he plants his forehead against Mort's red eyes glaring through the armor. "My name is Raha, of the Clan N', Warrior of Light and Chosen of Hydaelyn. Face me with your true strength... Old Man."

    And then that head rears back again and he headbutts Mort, before lening in and /swinging/ that Bravura. Aether streams from the blade, as he lashes out, not holding back. He doesn't have to, here, thankfully.

Sarracenia has posed:
     "And Mr. Balman starts things off with a fast dash and a quick jab into N'raha's midsection! Even though it looks like that must have hurt, N'raha just laughs it off and accuses Mortimer of holding himself back! N'raha doesn't seem to be as he declares his name and titles before swinging his mighty weapon!"

     Mikoto might recognize the voice of the announcer as the same spoiled princess who was rambling on about things on the radio only a few minutes ago. The princess though doesn't notice Mikoto. After all, Mikoto is behind her and Sarra is engrossed in both watching and announcing.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mortimer presses his forehead back against the armored Miqo'te's and grins a sardonic, death's head sorta grin. And then his face gets smashed by the headbutt. "Hah..!" Mortimer spits out a mouthful of blood and a broken tooth. The axe is caught with his hands, because he's come in unarmed. Blood drips from his hands and hisses as it hits the floor, boiling so hot that it threatens to melt the stage a bit. Maybe damage that blade too, unless its magics give it protection.

     The catman's weapon is thrown away and Morty pushes in, trying to deny N'Raha the use of his blade and slamming at his body with precise and vicious elbow and knee strikes, culminating in an effort to shoulder-check the Hero onto his ass so he can jump up and bring his elbow- which has for some reason, *caught fire*- down into N'Raha's armored faceplating. "Be careful what ya wish fer, son!"

N'raha Tia has posed:
    This would not in fact be the first time someone has Wrassled N'raha. Even in the armor. Bravura, for its part, starts glowing as that damage is applied. But not like the 'oh I'm hot', no it's more like 'This Is A Magic Glow' glowy. The kind that hurts to hold after a while.

    Not that Mort's grappling the business end of the Axe for long, of course. The Wrasslemon tries to bring Raha into the squared circle, kicking him across the arena and ELBOW DROPing his butt downwards.

    But the catman catches that Elbow on his shoulder, fire and all, and stands up under his own power, lifting Mort's attack with him. Baleful red eyes glower out from under the visor, and the catman... grins. "HIT ME." The axe comes around again, and this time it's bringing fire. Likely Mort's own fire, along with another burst of Aether. "HRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" He's swinging for the fences, if The Fences is also Mortimer's ribcage.

Inga has posed:
Inga is late. She is fairly sure N'Raha will forgive her once he hears her explaination. You just don't leave in the middle of amputating then re-growing someone's finger, and you also probably shouldn't show up still covered in blood. Though, she suppose if that were appropriate anywhere, a fighting match would be once of those places. The said, she did take the time to change, and so arrives in a clean white sundress with a knee length skirt and v neckline, her similarly white hair neatly rebraided. Her brown leather belt is still worn by her waist, from which hangs a leather pouch and a seax knife. She leans on a oak-wood walking stick carved with runes to offset her limp somewhat as she comes to take her seat, eyes focused below. It just so happens that she takes a seat nearby Mikoto.

She smiles lightly to the girl, then rest her staff over her legs. "I hear Raha made cake," she comments. "Oh, he's facing Mort today," she adds. She'll wave to them, if they ever happen to look her way. Which might end badly for either of them if they get distracted. She's none too worried though, N'Raha is singularly focused when it comes to combat. The Odin-fury makes sure of that.

Mikoto Shimizu (7002) has posed:
Mikoto watches the fight with some interest, not that she knew what was going on or anything beyond 'guy with axe who is angry vs a giant badger who is also angry?'  She shouts again as bursts with Aether making a good show of it all.  

Of course, this might shake the back of the announcer's seat.  She's not exactly /quiet/ either.  

Then a staff-wielding woman sits next to her and talks about the cake.  Mikoto gives her a side eye and then speaks a bit less screaming. "Oh, you know the cake cat?  Also the badger I guess.  I don't know either of them, I just got told there is cake involved if I cheer for the cat."

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     It's only by the slimmest of margins that Mortimer is not neatly bisected by that strange magical axe. He's still hit by it and has a beautiful new bleeding cut across his chest, but it's not as bad as it could have been by a longshot. Even so, he huffs a bit and maintains his grin. "Yer better'n I expected, son! But then you *are* a hero, so you'd damned well better be, aye?" He starts hopping away from N'Raha, trying to get some distance between them; puffing out small balls of black flame that burst with a scream when they pop.

Sarracenia has posed:
     "It is rarely a good idea to catch the blade portion of a bladed weapon, but Mortimer has done so! And it appears he has taken an injury as a result! But even with a deep cut on his hands his blood seems to be boiling! Literally! It seems like he might have lava for blood! He pushes the axe away and goes full fisticuffs, aiming vicious strikes all over N'raha's armored form! But N'Raha manages to deflect many of them and power through the rest! And with a huge wind-up he swings his axe like a really heavy baseball bat! But like some kind of berserker Mortimer takes a hit to the chest and grins! He does finally put some distance between them though, using haunted black flames to build that distance!

N'raha Tia has posed:
    The balls explode into smoke and mist and haze and sulfur, obscuring the fight from the audience for a few long moments... before there's a howling mad noise in the middle of the ring.
    Someone has charged right through the middle of all that garbage, and is leaping through the air. That somone is N'raha, and as Inga has said, the Odinsfury is here. angry, sickly red energy streams from the catman now, his armor rippling with aether as-

    There's nothing fancy here, not at all. It's just a straight, flying, overhand strike that aims to split Mortimer in two. If not him, then likely the arena underneath him.

    DBZ combat arenas, eat your heart out.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     The axe comes down.. Leaving a vicious gash over Mortimer's face- he's yet again, just managed to move out of the Miqo'te's way before he can do some real serious heavy damage. "Don't go into the angry place yet, Raha of Clan N'! Yer gonna need yer wits about, if you plan to beat old Morty in a duel!"

     A few more hops back and Mort brings his hands together, almost like a prayer-position. "The restless spirit of Darkrai, feeding on all mortal sins and haunting our dreams!" Black symbols that look like crooked geometry form in the air, carving themselves in the atmosphere and dripping with blood that dissipates before it can stain the floor. Mort's own blood seems to be attracted to the symbols as they fall.. "Bloody Void Sound: Black Missile Hail!

     And then the catman will find himself being aggressively peppered by missiles of shadow-flame that sprout of Mortimer's mane, which has tripled in size, and seem to home in on him. There's a LOT of them, but they are quite weak individually.

Inga has posed:
Inga's lips thin into a severe line...then she bursts out laughing. "CAKE CAT," she laughs, holding her belly. This is incredibly funny to her for some reason. Not even she knows why.

A few moments later she reaches up to wipe a tear from her eye, her chest still shaking with the giggles that remain. And the fact that he bribed people with cake to come cheer for him...she's looking forward to teasing him relentlessly. "Ja, I know them both. I do not know Mort (the badger person) very well, though," she answers. "Are you new to the multiverse?" she then inquires, pulling her eyes away from the fight in order to unhook her leather pouch from her belt and set it down on the seat beside her.

She opens it up, and pulls out a teapot. It's steaming. A cup follows. "Tea?" she asks, ready to apparently reach into the pouch for another cup, presumably.

N'raha Tia has posed:
    More fire. More fire and more smoke and more WORDS. He's still talking, why is mort TALKING? There's a growling, hectic noise from the catman, as N'raha is peppered by bolts of heat and fire and flames, his armor absorbing some of the hits but not all of them. He can feel welts and burns forming under that armor...
    And he doesn't care. He could not care less right now. Because now was the time. The catman howls a battle cry, and it would appear that The Dark Place is where Raha lives right now, because all of the arether and smoke and everything around Raha in the arena swirls around him in a crimson cyclone of wrath, before swirling out in a sudden aetheric burst. Raha raises his axe, and swings back down. But it's not just one axe that's swinging. It's the axes of his Ancestors, of Wariors long gone, all in a hail of steel and hatred.

Mikoto Shimizu (7002) has posed:
"Yeah, something like that.  I'm from Japan if you couldn't tell.  I just moved to Mitakihara Town, trying to help with the rebuilding with a trust fund and charity fund stuff I have set up.  Technically my handler's deal with that stuff, I just give vague directions and don't get drawn into the details," she says with a sip from her big gulp.

Then Raha scores a powerful hit on Mort, and she stands up with a cheer.  "WOOO!  THAT'S RIGHT CAKE CAT!" she says, with a giggle, wow this was fun!  Of course, she might almost be screaming in the princess' ear.

Looking back towards Inga she tilts her head to the side, "Are you literally brewing tea in the middle of a crowded arena?" A pause, "Bitchin', I'll take a cup," she says sucking down the soda to have just tea ready.

Sarracenia has posed:
     "Somehow N'Raha just charges through those fireballs, barely getting a scratch! It must be getting hot in all of that plate armor, though! And this fight is certainly getting the crowd worked up! I thought the walls of the booth were going to fall down there for a moment! N'Raha makes a vicious overhead swing and Mortimer has another new berserker gash to add to his scar collection! But he isn't going to just take that lying down! With what sounds like the makings of a spell, Mortimer conjures...well, it does not seem as bad as I was expecting for something that required an encantation. But, it looks like those haunted flames might linger for a while! But with a beastial howl N'Raha swings his axe around his head, gathering energies and...his mighty swing is joined by numerous spirit axes! These two seem practically made to fight each other!"

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mort's still talking.. Because it's driving N'Raha madder. Mad men make mistakes. And- in theory- Mort has gotten the boy to make one. He's put everything into his assault, and Mort.. Mortimer takes a hit like a champ. He catches the axe again, as it comes down. The magic is burning his hands but he doesn't appear to care, trying to hold as much of the force as possible.

     And then the axe slips, the magic and aetheric burst pushing it out of his grasp and allowing it to embed itself into his chest.. But something's odd, here. It's *stopped.* It's gotten *stuck*, directly into Mortimer's sternum. His body is shaking from concentration and focus, as if somehow he's actively resisting the weapon's urge to cleave through and hit his vital organs. With no small amount of effort, the old man pulls the axe out of his chest... Flames and smoke trailing from his mouth as he pushes the Light Warrior back. His breastbone is actually visible to the naked eye, past all the blood, and it's splintered and cracked in several places, with a deep indent that any doctor could tell you- that damn near went THROUGH him.

     But, Mortimer is still standing, and sucking in air. His flames start burning more of a 'normal' color, tinged with only hints of wraithly power. "Burn." Is all he says in response to this terrible cleave filled with ancestral power, looks like he's going for broke as well. And when he goes for broke.. He REALLY goes for it. His stomach distends as flames build up, and then it quickly flattens and presses inward- which looks horrifyingly painful given the chest wound, and it totally is- and then comes the deluge.

     A wall of flames from the depths of his belly that seems like it never ends. Highly compressed and focused, it sprays at N'Raha like the breath of some ancient dragon from stories of yore. The heat is of such intensity that it threatens not only to cook him, but to melt the armor he wears until it entombs him in his own protective shell. This lasts for several moments.

Inga has posed:
A lot of those words get a quizical look from the white-haired woman. She at least knows where Japan is, now. She thinks she has even been there at some point. She does know she enjoys the food. "Ah, well. Welcome I suppose. I am Inga Freyjasdottir," she says, extending a hand--the one not holding tea.

Her eyes do keep straying to the fight, and when Raha scores a that hit she deigns to raise her voice and shout down. "Well done, Raha! May Thor lend you his strength!" she cries, then adds, slightly awkwardly in Mort's direction, "...you are also doing well, Mort!"

Inga clears her throat and looks back to Mikoto. "Well, no, I am not. That would be ridiculous. It's already brewed," she says, straight-faced, and pulls another porcelaine teacup from the bag that is absolutely bigger on the inside. She pours a cup and hands it over. It is a very nice high-mountain Taiwanese oolong.

Inga looks back to the fight, glancing brieftly toward the announcer with a chuckle. "What is a 'handler'?" she has to ask. That explaination was not much of an explaination at all to Inga, for now she has even more questions.

Mikoto Shimizu (7002) has posed:
Mikoto looks at the hand and then back at her for a moment.  It doesn't dawn on her what is going on, before she goes, "Oh right, handshake...like the American's do right?" she asks, and takes the hand gingerly and gives it a shake.  

Taking a cup she sips it, "Huh!  Actual tea!" she takes another sip, while Raha gets his crap pushed in, but still survives.  "Huh...looks like the Beaver is gonna lose it."

"It's someone paid money to handle the day to day stuff for me because I'm still technically in school.  I inherited my dad's finances after..." she pauses, and takes another sip, "He passed.  An accident with my family, I was off studying."


N'raha Tia has posed:
    That blow comes in. Raha can see it. He can feel it coming, his bones ache for the hit, his blood sings. This is joy. This is pure bliss, this moment right here.
    But as Mort reels back, summons up that Dragon's Breath, the catman just howls his own fury and noise right back at him.

    H O L M G A N G

    A hand lashes out, a magical energy leaping from the miqo'te to Mortimer, binding the two, lashing them together, and N'raha stands directly in the path of those flames, his armor scorching... but in that moment, Mortimer will know that N'raha will not die, will not be moved from this spot. Their fates are now intertwined.

    The flames and fire and smoke clear, and there stands N'raha, his red armor blackned, but that axe blistering bright, white aether steaming from the blade. "YOU. WILL. NOT. DEFEAT. ME."

    The axe swirls, and white shards of magic embed everything around N'raha.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mortimer blinks at the Light Warrior's power, staring blankly for a few moments as N'Raha simply TANKS his flames. "Well.. Fuck." And then the catman roars his defiance, and the old badger tries to leap out of the way of that powerful and aggressive strike. NOPE, DO NOT WANT.

     It still hits Mort, right in the leg. And the bite is deep indeed, blood gushing out and ruining the pants and breaking his leg bone almost in half, making the old man fall to the floor.

     Panting heavily, Mort looks up from the ground. "Still.. Still got some fight in me yet, sparky..!" More balls of shadow-fire are puffed out of his mouth, these don't scream too loudly anymore, though. He is definitely on his last leg, though.

Sarracenia has posed:
     "That wraith-powered axe swing lodges itself firmly in Mortimer's chest!" Pause. "...VERY firmly. Somehow it did not cleave dangerously deeply, but it still takes visible effort on Mortimer's part to pull it free! It must have really hurt, because the badger's ghostly flames seem to have lost their otherworldly essence! But that doesn't reduce their tempurature at all! And...is he part dragon?! With an impossibly deep breath, Mortimer unleashes a veritable river of flames! It flows for quite a while! N'Raha has to be a deep fried kitty after that! But somehow...the cake cat is still going! He roars again and...he's used magic to link himself and Mortimer? He twirls his axe and shards of piercing magic scatter about! If these safety barriers weren't here, the crowd would be in danger!!"

     Sarracenia is on her feet at this point, with her face pressed against the window of the press box.

N'raha Tia has posed:
    Normal people would be hesitant to take more blows. Would be hesitant to shift into a less damaging position. Something more strategicly advantageous. Where he's not right next to the On Fire And Burning Badger.

    Raha is far from any of those mindsets right now, and in fact cannot move, so bound by Fate as he is with Mortimer.
    not that he'd want to move. His body is hurt and battered and flagging, his blood is starting to leave his body, and all he should be doing is trying to disengage.

    Raha's axe moves on its own accord, seemingly, the catman's body willing him to move despite himself. Rage boils through his veins, and he staggers up to his feet through the flames. The axe moves, and Raha with it. A staggeringly steep swing across Mort's midsection again.

    "FALL." The lion's roar shakes the stands.

Inga has posed:
Inga laughs lightly. "I'm sorry, yes. I was taught by an american to do it, now it's habit," she says, then looking back to the fight. She chews the inside of her lip. Mort is full of fire and she can smell the burned fur from here. It raises goosebumps on her arms. "At least, with the fight being here, I don't have to worry about putting them back together," she sighs. "Mort is very powerful...so is Raha. But Raha is also very tough. He can take a lot of damage and recover relatively quickly. We shall see..." then , she shouts. "The fury of Odin runs though you, but also let his cunning! Do not lose yourself entirely Raha!"

Back to Mikoto. She sips her tea. "Ah...yes, money is considerably more complicated these days. I don't like it." she states. "I am sorry, for your family, however," she says, giving her a sympathetic glance.

Cake Cat. Honestly.

Sarracenia has posed:
     "It is coming down to the wire! It looks like both fighters are tired and pushing themselves to the limits! Mortimer might be a berserker, but N'Raha seems to have devolved into full on demon warrior! The rage of battle seems to be driving him onward with sheer willpower and stubborness! Those magic shards really hit hard, and Mortimer is not looking too good! And it looks like even his fire is losing steam! But N'Raha isn't doing so well either! It looks like he meant to put more into his swing, but fatigue is finally catching up with him! This could be the final exchange!

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     The swing is not quite so steep as Raha would have liked, owing to Mortimer desperately rolling out of the way. Mostly.. The axe comes across his back this time. "GUH!" And yet.. Despite the massive amounts of bloodloss and damage, the old man manages to roll away and up onto his feet. Mostly. More like onto one knee, the leg that isn't currently wrecked. He's gasping for air at this point. Raha has done colossal amounts of damage. "Why dont'cha.. Come over here and.. MAKE ME?!"

     Everything hurts everywhere. Literally everything everywhere. Gasping for whatever air he can find, Mortimer opens his mouth impossibly wide and begins expelling another horrid gout of flames at Raha. This one is far less focused.. A mere flamethrower compared to dragon's breath from before. Still fire, though.

Mikoto Shimizu (7002) has posed:
"Ah...makes sense then.  Mostly it's a bow and proper greetings for me, being from Japan.  Though I learned a lot about the American way in my English classes," She shrugs.  

"Money makes the world go round, always has.  Doesn't matter the age you're from.  It's only complicated if you make it complicated, other than that...if you have enough of it you can pay someone else to be complicated for you."

Though when it comes to her family, she just kinda...nods once.  Pressing on to the match and cheering again.  "Holy crap, this is down to the wire."

N'raha Tia has posed:
    But ever and always, the Holmgang connects the two now, as Raha just staggers alongside Mortimer, grinning the whole while. and it's clear that he's grinning because somewhere in the arena his hlemet has fallen. That long shaggy ponytail of his is scorched and matted with blood, his face is soot covered... but still grinning grimly and madly.

    Raha's head lols to the side a bit, as he hoists up his axe in both hands. "Time to rest, old man."

    And this swing, is much like the first. Hard, and heavy, and straight forward. No more aether. He hasn't got it left in him.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     And Mortimer goes down.. Though judging from the impact, that only just barely did the job!

Sarracenia has posed:
     "Mortimer manages to avoid the worst of the swing, and unleashes another gout of flame! Somehow N'Raha and his magic armor both weather even this, and with a very straightforward yet powerful swing the battle is finally over! It looks like the old fire badger just couldn't hold out anymore. N'Raha is the winner! Which means we can finally have some cake! Well done, both of you!"

     With the fight finally over, Sarracenia emerges from the announcer's booth and makes her way down toward the arena floor. "And now for cake~"

Inga has posed:
Inga nods. "True enough," she says, not wanting to think about money now. She never entirely lacked for it, and now she doesn't at all...but she doesn't want to think about why.

When Raha's helmet falls, she winces and leans forward, visibly upset for a moment before she can remind herself that he will be fine due to the nature of this place.

She is also absolutely going to scold him for calling Mort an old man. She's been called old FAR too often lately and is feeling prickly on the subject.

Inga gasps as Raha lands another hit and Mort falls, Raha being declared the victor. She lets out an ululating victory howl.

She can see it now, what he must have been like in that gladitorial arena. It comes naturally. Indeed, it must be nostalgic. He clearly enjoys it.

Inga finishes her tea and simply drops the cup and the teapot into her bag before pushes herself to her feet with aid of her walking stick, moving to make her way to the field with a fierce smile for Raha. She hopes he's in control enough that she doesn't need to whammy him to calm him down!

N'raha Tia has posed:
    Raha... for his part, staggers on his feet. He's flagging. He's wavering. But he's still standing.

    And the little bit of his mind that's still working commands him. You are the victor. Raha. You won. Act like it.

    He shifts, raises his axe to the sky, and roaaaaars.... before falling down to a knee.


Inga has posed:
Inga gets there in time to put her arm out to Raha as she drops to a knee. "Raha," she says, a little breathlessly. "Well fought. How long does it take for the enchantment of this place to take care of your wounds? Should I heal you and Mort?" she asks.

If Mort is conscious, she flashes him a smile. "That was very impressive, Mort. I'd say that was a very close fight. Well done."

N'raha Tia has posed:
    Raha is already 'out of his armor', as it vanishes in a cloud of aether and digital mess. He's left in his summer shirt and shorts and sandals, his wounds already sealing themseves up. "I'll be fine, Inga, thank you though." He takes her hand, though, and squeezes it. He's not in a hurry to get up. "I mean, I'll heal pretty quick, but this takes it out of you, that's for sure."

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mort is actually not conscious at all until carried out of the arena by his butlerfree, and subsequently revived by the Shrine's powers. "Nuugh.. Ahh. Ow." Everything growing back in is painful. "Gwahahahaha!" A coarse and harsh laugh as ever, and Mort claps Raha on the shoulder. "Good fight, lad. Almost had ya! But you got me. Now I heard there was something about... Cake?"

Inga has posed:
Inga shakes her head, looking incredibly amused and bright-eyed. "I would also like cake, Raha," she tells him. The look in her eye will tell him how much she is going to tease him. Cake cat he will be. Forever.

N'raha Tia has posed:
    "Oh gods."
    Raha rubs his face, and looks up. The Princess, The Badger, the Seer and the Witch all want cake.

    "...Fine I'll make cake."