Scene Listing || Scene Schedule || Scene Schedule RSS
Owner Pose
Linehart      This battle was going to happen the moment the Mirror Knight decided it would.

     Linehart stands outside the SKAIANET facility. He's in full armor, his dark spear Aledvar slung over his shoulder. His smokey cape trails behind him in the rising sun, amidst the little lizards and hunks of ruin dotted all about. The red cross-scar visor gleams ominously in the morning dim.

     He is waiting for Lezard Valeth to emerge.

     When the Sorcerer of Midgard inevitably leaves the facility, Linehart's spear slings over his shoulder. The textbox pops up.

     Lezard Valeth, Evil Wizard of Midgard. I am Linehart, the Mirror Knight. My Sphere is Evil Knight. As I said when last we spoke, this dark spear shall be your doom. I have come this morning for that reckoning.

     Prepare yourself.

     And yet Linehart doesn't strike.

     He waits for Lezard to acknowledge him. He waits for Lezard to say as much. Is it foolish? Maybe. But it's part of the rules of engagement. Striking a man by surprise is just cowardly.
Lezard Valeth     Lezard Valeth is always prepared for battle. It would not be the first powerful, teleporting, murderous engine of destruction he has had to face down.

    Lezard Valeth steps from the darkness into the fading light, the streaming violet of the dying sun rippling through the thing trees between them and dappling the baked, barely-vital ground. The wind rushes around them as the Sorceror of Midgard stops in his gait, his cloak billowing about him.

    "Linehart, the Mirror Knight. You are a fool to stand against me. I am a man of unparalelled power, who stands against the gods themselves. What chance have you against me? But so be it." With a definitive motion, Lezard reaches up to his glasses, adjusting them... And then he removes them, placing them into the darkness of his pocket. He doesn't seem impeded in the slightest at this.

    Space warps, and he draws his tome from that warp, that plain book with no title. It opens, pages flipping before him as energy begins to roar around him, Lezard stretching a hand forward. "I am he who hath entrusted his soul to the eternal vortex of time. Ye know me! And if ye do not know me ye shall be MADE to know me! IT SHALL BE ENGRAVED UPON THY VERY SOUL... LEZARD VALETH! The only doom that you will face shall be your own. Come, Evil Knight who is not evil... And seal it!"
Linehart      No more words.

     The boss music kicks up, the ominous, dark introduction that swells around the Mirror Knight as he starts walking forward. Lezard's pages swirl as he makes his proclamation. Linehart's spear comes off his shoulder.

     There's no more talking because there doesn't need to be. The music is deep and dark and angry. It kicks up into high gear, into the angry, fast-paced combat music. Linehart continues moving forward, and Lezard may even be fooled into thinking that he's not about to attack.

     And then Linehart plants his feet in the ground and twists his hip backwards.

     The spear begins to turn. The red runes along it spin furiously until they slow down, locking into place one by one, like chevrons on some ancient gate. Red light pours off the spear as Linehart takes a step forward, and twists his hip to put all his strength behind it.

     Vampire Blade

     The spear looses itself. It screams forward for Lezard like a bullet, shooting directly towards the Evil Wizard's chest.
Lezard Valeth     The Vampire Blade fires forward, the spear plunging for a vital strike... Only to meet a roar of pages that flick into the path of the blow. For a moment, there is a flash and a fountain of sparks like steel meeting steel... Before the spear plunges through the paper barrier and strikes beyond.

    The pages part, revealing the spear plunged an inch and a half into his chest, the Sorceror's hand gripping the haft and struggling to keep the enchanted weapon from piercing his heart. "Gggh... If you think... You can simply dispatch me like a common wizard..." With a yell, he wrenches the blade out of his chest, hurling the spear to the side. "You sorely misjudge me."

    The energy around Lezard howls, changing timbre as his focus changes and he selects his own move. "Now, enjoy a sample of my power. LIGHTNING BOLT!" A wizard classic, the energy gathers before Lezard and blasts forward, exactly as one might expect. The difference comes in the overwhelming intensity, the fountain of cascating electrical power as the air ionizes rapidly and the arcing lightning seeks out the Evil Knight's armor and body to ground through.
Linehart      The Lightning Bolt smashes into the Evil Knight head on. It crackles around him, dancing along his body, electric dragons sparking with every jump. Linehart keeps walking forward, but there's smoke rising from the armor's gaps with every step. The ground below him hisses. He's probably trying to vent as much of the lightning downwards as he can, ground himself as much as is possible in heavy metal armor.

     A number pops up above his head.

                                    182                                    

     The silent knight continues his advance with the crackling remnants of the lightning bolt still dancing around him. The spear reappears in his hand; Lezard is quite certain it did not move, it just ceased to exist and then came back into the Evil Knight's gauntlet.

     Suddenly, Linehart simply tosses something to the ground. It's a glass bottle, a potion. It drops, and breaks, and starts to disappear, like any item dropped from an inventory.

     In the next step he vanishes.

     Lezard can probably figure out what's going on immediately. It's the exact same speed that the Mirror Knight emerges from one of the shovels near him - surging halfway out of the ground with that bloody black spear, right for Lezard's back. He lands with a heavy *thud*, crashing into the ground and kicking up dust around him, the last of the lightning pouring off him like some kind of attack - though it goes nowhere and does nothing; it merely looks flashy.

     Finally, he speaks again.

     Worry not, Evil Wizard. I am more than willing to take you as seriously as you desire.
Lezard Valeth     Lezard simply smiles slightly when he sees the glass potion. It crashes to the ground, breaking. The Mirror Knight vanishes.

    The surprise comes when the spear emerges for Lezard's back. The Sorceror of Midgard is already turning, a magical ward slamming into place to meet the next strike head-on. There is a crackling surge of power as they are tested once more.... And there is a dull explosion as the ward collapses... But Lezard is blasted backwards several feet, intact despite the intense strike. The Sorceror brushes himself off, appearing nonchalant. "You revealed that trick to me already. Did you think I did not notice it? But mirrors are fragile, Knight." Lezard states. With another surge of power, Lezard sweeps a hand across the landscape. FIRE STORM!

    A line of detonations erupts through the area. This time, the ground itself blackens and cracks under the onslaught, the shovels melting and catching on fire as they are consumed, the glass shards vaporizing... And with a gesture, he rings the blasts right back upon the Mirror Knight! "You will break all the same!"
Linehart      The ward comes up a second too fast. Just a second faster and he might've -

     No, no time for might'ves or possiblys. Lezard's fire storm sweeps across the battlefield, roaring detonations sweeping across the battlefield. The glass evaporates. The shovels burn. Linehart can only press his arms up in front of him and try to guard, try to defend, try and deal with this as best he's able.

     It's not very well.

     The fire storm actually pushes him back along its explosions, which turns out to make it even worse for him. Each blast pushes him a little bit further, a little bit more, hammering against his body and over and over. His armor tanks it as best he's able, but Lezard, well, Lezard is a lot more powerful a magic-user than anyone in the party he faced, and that's obvious to him. He might just be outclassed.

     Still.

                                    152                                    

    Linehart starts pushing through the explosions again. His feet grind against the ground. His spear starts to spin again, the red runes locking into a new configuration.

     He jumps.

     It's not a graceful jump in the slightest. It's a Hulk Jump, the kind that blows a crater in the ground underneath him as he leaves the ground, a big crater from where he was standing. His spear comes swinging downwards as the last rune locks into place, and the red light around the spear bursts to light before switching to an ominous shadow that well-matches his armor and the dying night around them.

                                  Ark Fall                                  

     Linehart hits the ground hard enough to blow a second crater into the ground around them. Hopefully, he also hit Lezard hard enough to deal some serious damage to the other man.
Lezard Valeth     Lezard grimaces as he sees the Mirror Knight survive the onslaught. Lesser heroes have been rendered to ash by now. But Linehart is no /lesser hero/. He looks like he would have been someone who would stand beside Lezard, someone who understands the necessities of power and the failures of weak morality. But no, he has gone... beyond. Beyond his appearance. Beyond the simplistic tropes that would make something like him up.

    So be it. He is not the only one who can go beyond.

    Linehart launches at him, leaping to deliver a colossal blow... But not just that, but also a titanic Earthen blast. Lezard brings up his defenses, but the ground shock creates a weakness, the Evil Knight blasting right through his guard and forcing him back with a gash across his chest. Crimson drips across his clothing, a palpable mark upon his foe. Lezard's hand clutches the wound as the sting of pain rolls through his body. "Ggggh.... Why do you fight, Evil Knight? What drives you on? Worthless you may not be, but I cannot comprehend your motivations in hurling yourself into suicide! ICICLE EDGE!" A chill wind blows and dozens of sharp-edged ice blades rip through the air, shearing at Linehart....

    But he is not done. The energy surges, having reaches a critical point. Lezard's eyes gleam in anticipation. "Your time is running out, Evil Knight..." Lezard states, before the energy blasts into the air like a beacon, heralding something titanic.

    "Surely, thou canst feel it!"
        "Thy days are numbered! Thy death is at hand!"

    The chilling wind suddenly drops to subzero tempratures, crystals forming in the air and swirling around Linehart. Several of them fly into place around the Evil Knight, locking into place as the air between them flash-freezes to try to lock him into a frigid pyramid. The air howls more and more around it, the shuddering icy prison crushing down...

                             "CRYSTAL STRIKE!"                              

    And then the ice blasts outwards, shearing in all directions as the entire mass detonates on itself, collapsing.
Linehart      The ice catches him dead-on.

     Linehart flash-freezes. There's nothing he can do about it. His armor frosts over in an instant, pinning him in place. It crushes downwards. It presses. It squeezes. The armor bends inwards, frost-cold. There's nothing even his enormous strength can do against the spell. It's too much.

     Crack.

     Erupt.

     The ice blows away from Linehart. The number, 242, pops up above him as the shards fire off. He stumbles. He doesn't fall.

     Lezard asks him why he fights.

     Linehart declines to answer. His cross-scar red flares at Lezard as his hand comes up. That has been said to me before. And yet here I stand.

     And now, the final curtain!

     It's practically an admission of his own inability to survive further. He's already recognized what Lezard is. What kind of monster Lezard is. What kind of *entity* Lezard is. It's like realizing like, one who stood in the same or similar place as Lezard, spiteful towards the world and ready to strike it down. But he's unwilling to stop. He's unwilling to give up. And he's unwilling to tell Lezard what he wants, why he fights - because he's already figured out that it will infuriate Lezard further. Lezard sees what he is, but he hasn't unravelled the Knight, not yet. He hasn't realized where the road leads.

     Or, maybe he just doesn't care.

     But Lezard wants to know. Lezard is someone defined by knowledge. The book in his hand, symbolic of wisdom. The Sorcerer's arts, defined by magic. What he said the other day - what he stood to gain from torture was knowledge.

     Denying him knowledge will probably stick in his craw.

     But he'll show Lezard this much.

              The night that proclaims the time of extinction.              

     Darkness gathers around his outstretched hand. Raw, impossible shadow whirls about him. It gathers to him eagerly like birds to feeders, like butterflies of night.

     The world goes light, but for the sky.

     Lezard and Linehart stand upon a plane of white light. Above, the sky is full of stars, of galaxies, of whirling, perfectly-clear distant worlds. It is a beautiful sight, a sight unseen in worlds full of pollution or modernity, a crystal-clear image of the universe.

     The lights start going out.

     One by one, they disappear. Then faster. Then faster. Then faster still. An onrushing darkness, a wave of dying starlight. An encroaching end. A sense of panic. Soon, the shadow ripples through galaxies, and they go as still as the night. It washes over suns. At the last, the sun itself goes dark. Around the two of them, the infinite void.

     Linehart closes his hand.

                                  FIAT NOX                                  

     And then the platform is gone. Lezard, at the heart of it all, finds a crushing, onrushing, primordial dark, as the end of the universe collapses down upon him, the hand of God squeezing the last light from the world. The world collapses into a pinprick of light.

     And then it ends, and the world reasserts itself, and all things are as they were. Not a single star is gone. Not a single light is gone. Not a single thing was harmed but the wizard himself.
Lezard Valeth     Again, the Knight survives his magics. "How much are you willing to suffer for your foolish pride, Knight?" Lezard grimaces, the Sorceror clearly seeing the reticently dramatic action of the Knight as him holding his tongue on purpose. "Do you think you will simply be able to /leave/ after drawing your blade against me?" He clenches a fist, hissing. "I WILL TEAR YOUR SECRETS FROM YOU AND LEAVE ONLY TATTERS BEHIND!"

    Maybe they have stood in the same place before... But for Lezard, he chose this path. Perhaps in another world he could have been one of the most powerful forces for good that his world has ever known... But the difference between them is he is damned by his own free will. And this is why he will continue down the road, to try to rule in hell instead of serve in heaven.

    The darkness comes. Linehard declares the night that proclaims the time of extinction. The infinite void crushes down upon him, shattering his defenses, oblitering everything he was, is, and will be in the eternal shadow. Everything becomes silent. Still. Perfect in the void.

    Until a voice cuts through.

    "Thou must desire respite from they empty existence."

    The magic seethes. The night trembles.... And something goes terribly wrong. The void seethes with feathers winking into existence, drifting on the darkness, endless, immortal, uncorruptible. They weave into glowing halos in the black, gold rings bright there, hanging in eternity.

            "Thou shalt have it!"

    The halos collapse in on themselves, and burning beams of holy light scorch in, blasting in all directions in a devastating bombardment. Each one blasts through the night, tearing it apart to reveal Lezard there, his body scorched and partially consumed, his flesh enervated, his body trembling, his clothing blanched in the aftermath.... But Linehart continues to find himself the target of intense sorcerous might.

                             "CELESTIAL STAR!"                              
Linehart      The holy magic scours from every direction. It rains down upon the Evil Knight like lasers from the sky, like lasers from the ground, like lasers from every direction. Linehart is smashed as the night is torn to pieces, knocked to and fro in the midst of his own spell. He's cast backwards and forwards, forced backwards, forced upwards, forced down onto the ground. As the night clears to reveal Lezard Valeth, Linehart is slammed into the ground. It is the first time he's ever been knocked, completely, off his feet.

     The laughter appears around him.

     Hahaha...Hahahahaha! Lezard Valeth, I owe you my thanks! This is what it felt like for those four, at that threshold! What a remarkable feeling!

     He rises, shakily, on his spear. His body shakes, suggesting that he is, indeed, laughing. The cross-scar visor flares another bloody red. I'm losing! I'm *losing!* Amazing!*

     He stands. He whirls his spear above him as the ground erupts around him from the sheer force of his stomp. He's been downed, but he is not out, not at all. His spear surges with power, with a blazing crimson light.

     This is how he knows he is right. This is the moment in which he sees the truth of his own virtue. The path he's been walking. The hard, trudging slog. Working, over and over, on little tasks, little works, over and over. Repairing a house. Solving a murder mystery. Trade quests. Battling with the Watch. One by one, they all swirl around in his mind, as, beneath the armor, he grins a wild and excited grin.

     Don't fall! Lezard Valeth! If you fall, this feeling will evaporate! This moment of struggle, the first of my life!

     ARK EDGE

     Linehart suddenly drives his spear into the ground, hard. It vanishes.

     And then twelve identical spears erupt out of the ground around Lezard Valeth, to grab and drag him into the ground, to crush him into the earth and tear into him.
Lezard Valeth     Lezard Valeth casts the spells that make people fall down. Linehart called him the Evil Wizard. It is an apt descriptor. He is every inch the sight, his abilities precisely what one would expect... But he, too, has gone beyond expectations. He is no mere mage. He has matched Linehart, he has clashed, power against power, but Lezard seems to have utterly controlled this battle from the beginning.

    The windows appear. Lezard reads them with a flick of his gaze, and his scowl deepens. "If you enjoy losing so much, then enjoy your last moments. Open the Gates of Niflheim! More souls await!" The proud words do nothing to dim Linehart's elation at this new and strange experience. While Linehart acquires validation on the edge of his destruction, Lezard is grasping no profound truth, no crystallization of the self. No, the only thing bubbling there is rage, an endless hunger, an ever-gnawing need that drives him ever onward, unsated, and insatiable. The spears come.

    There is a flash of incredible power, and the ground buckles, cratering under the wave of unmitigated, raw force rolling out from around him. The spears are blasted away as the Evil Wizard floats there, his expression one of intense anger mingled with ecstasy as he deploys incandescent, mind-boggling Power.

    "Your first... And your last. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA! BOW DOWN BEFORE ME, KNIGHT!"

    The energy erupts in all directions, dozens of beams lancing up into the night sky in a swirling wave.

    High above, in the STRANGELY ACCESSIBLE ASTEROID BELT nearby, those beams crash into the floating space rocks, being pushed out of stable orbit and dragged to the planet. The sky roars, turning dire crimson as fire lights the night.

    "No mercy for the damned!"
        "Thus, thou hast no escape from the grip of catastrophe!"

    The first rocks fall, meteorites slamming into the ground as Lezard's magic preserves much of the damage they would have otherwise taken from reentry. The strikes crash down, bombarding Linehart once more while a massive central meteor descends....

                              "METEOR SWARM!"                              

    The final meteor drops, impacting with apocalyptic force.

    How appropriate, for this place.
Linehart      That's not good.

     But Linehart already knew he would lose. He already knew he wasn't going to succeed. As the first meteors begin to fall, as they smash around him, Linehart starts hitting them. His GAUNTLET in his left hand hammers against them, one by one. The damage starts mounting, mounting, mounting. He can't sustain this. He's already at the end of his rope.

     Inside the armor, he's laughing, but Lezard cannot see it.

     And then comes the central meteor.

     It comes crashing down, a huge, sweeping explosion -

     -and Lezard Valeth does not see the number pop up.

     When the meteor clears, there are sparkles of broken glass lying all over the place.

     Linehart falls backwards out of a mirror in the Sundew Kingdom, the 455 popping up over his head. He hits the ground hard. His armor breaks apart, leaving only the man, bloodied, burned, and unconscious, but grinning a wide grin from ear to ear.