Staunton’s Darkness
…as I bear this darkness into battle…
…my suffering becomes my strength…
Darkness was all it ever knew, all it ever was.
Sorrow was all it ever knew, all it ever was…
The darkness and sorrow of a sick and twisted man. That darkness and sorrow stitched itself together, to become flesh and form that shifted and shambled in a grotesque impersonation of life. That darkness, that sorrow commanded it, tugged its arms and legs to move with a single purpose: slay the Fist of Rhalgr.
They gathered at their temple, to revel in their blasphemy. They had to die… Ala Mhigo must be purged and theirs was the blood to soak the ground to start his campaign. A sword form in its hand, heavy with a wicked edge. It was time to sate its thirst for blood.
Behind a faceless, steel helmet, the figure focused its single-minded attention on one pair of fighters: a miqo’te with pale blue skin and an au ra with black horns. They lived… they lived when so many others had died… when so many Ala Mhigans had died. What right did they deserve to keep living, filthy outsiders who treat upon the lands of Ala Mhigo? None… they didn’t deserve life… they should have died in place of those more deserving. With a terrible, sorrowful howling, it charged forward.
The shade attacked with a hatred that was focused entirely on the pair. Rana Kotsu, seemed to attracts its ire the most. She spoke of Ala Mhigo as if it was her home… Roark’s will told it that wasn’t true… she was an outsider, she did not deserve Ala Mhigo. She was weak… she must be purged.
It swung its blade in heavy arcs, bringing the massive slab of metal down upon her and her feeble armor over and over again. It has no muscles, no bones, it never tired as it rained blows down upon her. Even when her scales began to burn, her aether igniting to try and give her greater strength, the shade didn’t relent.
The Keeper, Binxi Saphe, drew the shade’s attention with his tactics. It bled shadows, smoke, miasma, a black mist that clouded the visions of both fighters. The miqo’te wove his wind aether into gusts of wind to dispel the smoke and make it easier for the two to fight it.
But a shadow could not stay manifested for very long. Four in total were called into existence to combat the Fist of Rhalgr and, though they were not limited by mortal exhaustion, their strength was still finite. An explosion erupted from a part of the battlefield, tearing through Roark and the other enemy forces that were gathered, in addition to the shadows he summoned. The attacks of the two monks, the blast, it’s own waning aether, was bringing it to the last of its “life”.
A highlander, Alexandyr Valcarde, and Wyra’to Mhakaracca, broke off from the shade they and their partners had finished attacking, and worked to assist Rana and Binxi against it. Smoke poured from its body as one of Rana’s attacks shattered the helmet it wore, pouring its toxin into the air. The four descended upon the final shade, breaking its “body” down with their combined efforts.
With the last of its strength, it exploded in a burst of shadow and smoke. What was left of it began to dissolve into nothingness. Roark was its source and with the Fist of Rhalgr turning its attention on the man for a final assault, the shade was left to be absorbed back into the darkness and the sorrow that birthed it.
The shadows had fallen, the mortal forced had been broken and driven out, and now nothing stood between the Fist of Rhalgr and Roark. Those in good condition charged him, battering the man into submission… or, at least, the youthful shape of him. A corpse had seemingly clung to the “man”s body at the heel and spoke with the same voice as Roark.
The cadaver was destroyed, the dark side was subdued, and finally–ironically–a moment of peace and quiet fell over the Levinfist Tournament.
With the damage done, the combatants injured and exhausted by the fight, no-one was in fighting form to continue to the actual event. The injured were ushered back to Rhalgr’s Reach for medical attention and Roark, in shock from splitting his soul into pieces for the sake of power, was taken away.
The Fist of Rhalgr, united in brotherhood, stood victorious against one who would see them purged. History would not repeat itself today… and hopefully it wouldn’t repeat itself next year, either…
The Levinfist Tournament is hosted by @bornfrombloodxiv. A special thank you to Binxi Saphe, Rana Kotsu, Alexandyr Valcarde, and Wyra’to Mhakaracca, who participated in the fight against Staunton’s Sorrow, as well as everyone else who attended the Third Annual Levinfist Tournament.