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Magic gone very wrong.
Jul. 28th, 2014 04:28 pmFrom the time Morgana took on her first apprentice, Morganians and Merlinians have fought each other. The Grimhold didn't start the conflict, it simply upped the stakes.
For Maxim Horvath, there's a definite air of the endless repetition of history as he trades plasma bolts with another Morganian sorcerer. This time there are two of them, one to distract him while the other works at some ritual he hasn't quite puzzled out yet, but knowing Morganians it's bound to be trouble for him if they complete it. It's taken time to track them here, to the empty cargo hold of a decaying freighter ship. The docks this rusting hulk sits at are quiet at night, even though it's an ideal place for shady doings. Maybe the sorcerers have scared away all the usual drug dealers and homeless vagabonds. Or maybe they have the sense of self-preservation to avoid a decommissioned ship that crackles with dark electricity.
He's slow on his feet, these days, but he's been at this game longer than any Morganian left alive. When he falters, it's an act, and the underhanded spell he throws while his opponent is gloating slams the man against the metal wall with a sickening thud. Horvath winces, but this is the price of a sorcery battle, and there are big things at stake, here. Already inside the Morganian pentacle, the very air seems to be warping and it hurts to even look too long at it. Violently interrupting the ritual now could be even more dangerous than whatever their end goal originally was, so instead Horvath hobbles close and cuts through to the remaining sorcerer with the power of his own voice, magically amplified. "This ends now. Back down, before I have to-"
Even that distraction, it seems, was too much. The Morganian in the pentacle twitches at the first words, startled, then gives Horvath a momentary look of sheer panic. His concentration is already broken, and it's too late. That much becomes pretty clear when the Morganian's head begins to stretch and twist, roughly five seconds before the spellwork implodes. The shockwave flings Horvath backwards, and the entire hull of the ship bows and dents outward with a warning creak. Of the Morganian, there's not much left at all, but the pentacle etched into the metal floor is not empty...
For Maxim Horvath, there's a definite air of the endless repetition of history as he trades plasma bolts with another Morganian sorcerer. This time there are two of them, one to distract him while the other works at some ritual he hasn't quite puzzled out yet, but knowing Morganians it's bound to be trouble for him if they complete it. It's taken time to track them here, to the empty cargo hold of a decaying freighter ship. The docks this rusting hulk sits at are quiet at night, even though it's an ideal place for shady doings. Maybe the sorcerers have scared away all the usual drug dealers and homeless vagabonds. Or maybe they have the sense of self-preservation to avoid a decommissioned ship that crackles with dark electricity.
He's slow on his feet, these days, but he's been at this game longer than any Morganian left alive. When he falters, it's an act, and the underhanded spell he throws while his opponent is gloating slams the man against the metal wall with a sickening thud. Horvath winces, but this is the price of a sorcery battle, and there are big things at stake, here. Already inside the Morganian pentacle, the very air seems to be warping and it hurts to even look too long at it. Violently interrupting the ritual now could be even more dangerous than whatever their end goal originally was, so instead Horvath hobbles close and cuts through to the remaining sorcerer with the power of his own voice, magically amplified. "This ends now. Back down, before I have to-"
Even that distraction, it seems, was too much. The Morganian in the pentacle twitches at the first words, startled, then gives Horvath a momentary look of sheer panic. His concentration is already broken, and it's too late. That much becomes pretty clear when the Morganian's head begins to stretch and twist, roughly five seconds before the spellwork implodes. The shockwave flings Horvath backwards, and the entire hull of the ship bows and dents outward with a warning creak. Of the Morganian, there's not much left at all, but the pentacle etched into the metal floor is not empty...