Bitterly, Loriauna cleaned her blade and sheathed it. Tithdaeron would be here soon...they would have to fight for the title of champion...whoever lost would be denied the winnings. It was sick, that was what it was...sick and twisted. That damned cretin had planned this...planning this out, that Derian character was doing this for her own amusement.

However, Loriauna needed to not focus on that scumbag, but on the match. By focusing on him, she would show respect to him and fight him with the best of her abilities.

Though she wouldn't kill him, of course. Just shove him to the point of surrender. Calmly, she prepared herself for the battle, preparing her mind and body for the fight as she stretched her limbs calmly.

Tithdaeron flew over the hot sands of the desert. He had never been anywhere close to a desert, let alone fly over one, and the sun tortured him brutally. His skin almost caught fire, but he was somehow prevented from bursting into flames by his angel heritage as well. Morte assured him that should he be unable to continue, he would take over. Fighting against Loriuana was something he would hate himself for, for the rest of his life.

What if I kill her? he asked Morte, as she was now coming into veiw just over a tan sandune that threatened to reach up and snag him right out of the sky. Maybe that hither sandune shall engulf you and end you sufferings. mused Morte, as Tithdaeron adjusted his wings and he skirted the edge of it, knocking off a tuft of sand.

Now withing a few feet of Loriauna, he spread out his wings and came to a dead stop. Landing on the ground softly, he looked at the ground. Tithdaeron could not bear to look her in the face. He heard her cleaning her sword. "Let there be few words between us so that no further damage shall be done, than already must be." he said to her, still glaring a hole into the sand. Using the power of his Flame Dance ring, he engulfed both his fists in flames.

Loriauna nodded, standing. "As it should be. Do not hold back, as I will not. However, I will not slay you...I apologize for my disrespect, but I cannot kill you."

With that, the winds suddenly kicked up, blowing the sand all about and keeping vision nearly impossible. Loriauna walked silently through the sand, using her Telepathy and Scrying to figure out Tithdaeron's location. Finding herself behind him, she struck silently with her hand like a knife, aiming for his neck. She would hit the point and knock him out...an easy and guiltless win if it succeeded.

Tithdaeron blinked away some sand that had kicked up into his eyes. He folded a wing in front of his face to protect it from any more sand, not only would it hurt his eyes, but if any got in his nose it would ruin his sense of smell. The one thing that he had in this situation to figure out how close Loriauna was to him. And he knew her scent well too.

Concentrating, the scent drifted away for a moment. The flames around his hands start to melt the sand into crude peices of glass in mid-air, and they fell to the ground with quite thumps against the roar of the wind. She is close by! warned Morte, and then Tithdaeron took another deep breath under his wing...

There! Tithdaeron ducked and turned around just in time to see the shadow of her hand fly acroos where his neck ahd previously been. Instinct let his leg fly out, towrds where he suspected her legs to be. If she does fall, do not hesitate to deliver the final blow. If you do, I may take over for you and I do not have the same feelings for her as you. warned Morte.

There! There wasn't enough time to dodge. The leg hooked hers and brought her down, her fall softened by the soft sand and air. Quickly rolling out of the way, she rolled to her feet and braced herself. Kicking off, the wind bringing her upward a bit higher, she came downward from above the sand storm that covered Tithdaeron and followed him like a dome.

She came down silently, the winds allowing her direct passage as she went to deliver the punch to his head. With her strength, it would most likely crush the poor blokes skull. However, he'd heal...that much she knew and would ensure.

She needed to win.

Tithdaeron concentrated some more when she disapeared again. He felt his leg make contact with hers, and made a perfect loop and hook, felling her to the ground. When he got up to let fly on her neck and end the fight with a simple knockout, she was gone. No doubt she was using her power over the winds to allow her to move so quickly. Covering his nose and mouth with his wing again, he let Morte do some of the detective work that Tithdaeron had much less expereince in.

Above you and fast! warned Morte, and Tithdaeron looked up to see Loriauna speeding down on him with her hand outstretched. With angelic and vampiric speed combined, he reached up with both his hands to clasp onto her arm and fling her to the ground. If she was injured severly at all, he had something he had been saving for a long time that would aid her well.

"Forgive me my love, I strike at you out of desperation and not want." he said, just loud enough for her to hear. His voice rung with bitter sadness, and at the same time hope. Hope for them both, because in the end Tithdaeron trusted it would turn out all right. And if not, it would not be the first time that he had lost one dear to him, and Death seemed to be somewhere near Lomedor, eager to take some extra souls.

The winds instantly gathered benath her to cushion her fall, meaning the sand screen faltered for a moment. She seemed to fall in slow motion rather than hard and, in that time, she grinned at the man most likely now stunned by the seemingly slowed time. "Don't go soft on me now...all that happens here is left here. This is a fight...don't taunt me by doing anything less than your best." With that, she jerked her hand toward Tithdaeron and a thin stream of sand shot straight into Tithdaeron's nostrils, flowing through his fingers. Another jerk sent a stream right into the tear ducts of his eyes. It wouldn't harm him, but it would help. Then, the winds gathered, no longer makign a sand screen. With a blast, they hit Tithdaeron square in the chest, forcing him off of her.

She disliked being at the hands of her opponent...she preferred to have control, hence her studying to control the powers of the winds.

Rolling backwards, she went to her feet and stood in a loose fighting stance, her sword out now. In her right hand, the sword seemed to gaze at the man hungrily...like a dog being held back by its master. The half-dragon readied herself, for she still had quite a few tricks up her sleeves.

Tithdaeron grunted at the sand that had entered his eyes, and Morte was now throughil confused because Tithdaerons sensitive vampire nose had been baffled by the sand that had now invaded it. Then, as the sand in the air cleared, the sun once again beat down on him and the heat of the desert returned. His skin started to glow faintly against his ivory pallor, and it quickly started to burn in the more exposed places.

It wouldnt kill him, but it would cause a sufficient amount of pain. Tithdaeron reached for his cloak, but it wasnt there. He had forgotten that it had burnt up some time ago, and he had never found another one. Sneezing, the force of the blow that Tithdaeron recieved from the wind blast almost helped him force the sand out of his nose.

Flying through the air, Tithdaeron quickly got his bearings again, and flapped his wings tentitevely, doing a backflip and then rolling to a stop and hovering some distance from Loriauna. When she drew her sword, he realized the time for play had ended. Morte took over.

With no longer any sign of mercy, the expression on the body had now changed to grim determination, and the eyes went from their untelling white to the menacing red color. "My lady." he siad clearly, so Loriauna would now understand who she was fighting. without waiting for a response, he ignited his hands again, and then hurled a volley of fireballs at Loriauna. He then drew his sword, and took off at a breakneck speed through the air.

Drawing his scimitar, it to was enveloped in flames and Morte measured up his target. First the shoulders, then the legs, and if that failed, the spinal cord if absolutely necessary. If he succeeded, he would put the Bloodstone Amulet on her and it would heal the wounds and allow her to reach a safe place.

Loriauna smirked, rolling back and making a quick hand sign, muttering. To Morte, who was higher up and farther away, it would appear as if a fog had suddenly shot from the earth, dense as a cloud. About eight feet high and about forty feet in diameter, it formed a moving circle as the wind corralled it in a circle to keep it from dissipating. When the fireballs hit it, they quickly went out, the strong winds and misty fog extinguishing them almost instantly. It also formed a shield around her, making it impossible to detect her. With the sand and fog so thick, it would be impossible to pick up her scent through that of the water and the fact that the winds cast her scent all around the space, plus her footsteps were silent. The perfect cover…the wind even allowed her voice to be projected all about, impossible to trace.

“Morte, do you dare stay in my terrain? You know I have the upper hand…everything here is to my advantage. If you try to fight me, you will lose. Surrender and make it easier on us both, before I have to get serious. I don’t wish to hurt you, and I don’t believe you truly want to hurt me.”

Loriauna knew what she was doing. Even to Morte, she was undetectable in every sense…their bond was only between her and Tithdaeron, and it was still too weak, since Tithdaeron wasn’t the one fighting, for them to figure out her next move. She was invisible, unheard, and impossible to smell. Her Telepathy allowed her to follow his position perfectly, allowing her to dodge any incoming attacks, and her magical blood allowed her to keep fighting like for as long as she needed. Wind magic was not difficult for her…as easy as breathing now, in a matter of speaking.

For him to enter the fog was utter destruction. She had the complete upper hand within the mass and would incapacitate him in seconds. If he stayed outside, the sun would eventually burn through him and he wouldn’t be able to successfully fight her anyway. He flames were useless as well…wind and water controlled flames, and she currently had power over both.

“I have power over that which controls fire…the sand will extinguish your flames as quickly as the water, and the wind will cause it to lose intensity and be controlled as I wish. The next fire attack could be thrown right back at you tenfold, and your weapon is useless if you can’t see. Face it…you’re helpless.”

Morte observed the fireballs helplessly get spun away and then extinguished by the maelstrom Loriauna cooked up. Nodding with a wise carry about him, he started thinking of other options he had. Morte knew that he could out-manuver her with his body's acrobatic abilities, since his scent was of no use and Tithdaeron's mental connection with her could no longer be used. Then she started to speak. Morte listened, but did not allow himself to be molded to much by her words.

Morte did not want to surrender, but it would be the wisest thing to do. Yet, perhaps there were wiser things yet... maybe, he could fool her into thinking he was about to surrender. Morte immediatly buried the thought into the deepest reaches of his mind and protected it with the mental powers of 2 strong willed beings. Hopefully Loriauna hadnt detected that. Tithdaeron, without mentioning the actual plan, sent a feeling of agreement to Morte. Loriauna would see it, hopefully, as an agreement to the surrender and leave idea she had suggested.

Secretly though, the directions were put into place and the thought was no longer needed. It dissipated like so much flame goes out before the water, just as Loriauna herself had said, and he went into action.

"Very well." Morte said, and slowed down and landed a few feet away from the fog and dust cloud. He extended his hand, just as a good sportsmen would, to one who had 'bested' him in battle. The clincher was, Morte had never actually said 'I surrender'. If Loriauna failed to realize that, it would be the first gear in his clockwork plan.

"Very well what?" Loriauna's voice still came from all around the mist. She was a half-dragon, for goodness sake...her father had, as all dragons, enjoyed mind games and riddles. If this idiot thought she would drop her guard, even after the fight, he was an idiot. She needed those words...those words to seal her victory.

Besides, she herself had used that trick in battle. But she wasn't desperate enough for such a thing to work...she wasn't needy towards a victory. So she waited in the mist, her voice echoing all about, waiting for him to answer. "Keep in mind, Morte, that I have been within the realm you two share...I know how you both think. Now, do you surrender? If so, say so...if not, then attack."

Morte stared into the still churning miniature sandstorm, as if he could bore a hole through it with his eyes. His red orbs scanned the cloud breifly, and Morte took a deep whiff. The water that was once in the protective windstorm was evaporating and fast under the heat of the desert. Once the water left it, all he had to do was conjure up huge firewall to engulf it, and it would quickly turn into a firestorm. Then he would be just as able to wield it as her.

Morte had no intention to surrender. Even though Tithdaeron would immediatly, it was Morte's determination to fight to the finish in all conflicts, rather than run or surrender when it seemed a hopeless fight. There was always something. "I agree." he finaly said, as a small drop of blood travelled from his forehead down to the bridge of his nose, and collected at the tip. The sun was now taking its toll, and although he would be able to survive as long as he had food and water, bleeding to death was not something anyone relished. Especially vampires. The skin on his face was beginning to crack, and Morte took advantage of the seemingly helpless situation he was now in.

"All right already! For gods sake Loriauna! I am in so much pain!" he screamed at the cloud, and then more blood started to run down his face. The nice thing was, he actually was starting to panic. It filled him. His blood was being lost, but he still held on to that one directive. Morte started to quiver, and then fell to his knees. Blood was now making minature streams down his temples and the side of his jaw, dripping innocently onto his bare chest and into the sand, turning it a slight rust color.

Though it tore at Loriauna's heart, her wit kept her mind in check. "Please, just say you surrender..." In order to quicken his plea of surrender, she cast a Light spell, the blazing ball of pure white light appearing over Tithdaeron's head. It was like a small sun, burning brightly over him as the sun beat down.

"Just say it so I can stop...I don't want to hurt you anymore!" Noting how her mist was beginning to fade, she growled and quickly cast a Strengthen spell on herself and a Weaken spell on Morte to even increase the odds against Tithdaeron.

Morte tried to utter the words, but he could not find the will to say them. "I... aahh!" he said, in another pang of agony. Then the light ball ignited above him, and it took him over the edge of sanity. Pain tore through the body, blinding him from his sight, and his reasoning. His eyes became bloodshot, and the filled with an even darker red color at his induced insanity. "Raaa!" he screamed in pain, his fangs clearly showing, as if they were ready to rend anything into pieces at any given moment.

Morte collapsed fully to the ground, as the weaken spell sapped the last amounts of strength he had to stay upright. Hitting the sand with a dull thud, face first, a small cloud came around him and some of it settled on his wings. Rolling over clumsily, Morte was no longer there but Tithdaeron. He could not find the strength to speak, he was blind and nearly deaf, and Tithdaeron too was quickly loosing conciousness and sanity under the searing purity of the globe of light. Sending out a strong mental thought, he hoped it would be enough. I surrender my love! Please take me from my misery! End me now! The amulet... in my pock..

Then, Tithdaeron too lost his sanity and the pain took his mind over the edge. Quickly, the world was fading, the agony fading, and then the body's eyes shut and a few spasms rippled through his body, before he finally stopped and lay limp.

Loriauna quickly lifted all of the spells, transferring the Strengthen spell to Tithdaeron to give some strength. "Okay, just hold on now..." The image of the Bloodstone Amulet still burning in her mind, she rushed forward and, with a jerk of her finger, the wind pulled the necklace from his pocket.

Quickly, she slipped it over his head and, with a twist, pulled her cloak from her pocket and pulled it over his body. Summoning another Fog and using the wind to pull the sand over him like a dome, blocking him from the sun and replenishing him with water.

"I must go now...when you wake up, come find me in Lomedor. I will wait for you in the tavern."

((Good fight. *extends hand for handshake* That was lots of fun...I love the desert now. ^^))

(( :p You only won because it was in the desert. What a fixed match... *shakes hand* A good fight nevertheless. ^_^ ))

As Tithdaeron lay under the sand dome that Loriauna had created to protect him, the Bloodstone Amulet started to flow the healing powers through him. Slowly, the cracks and burns on his skin from the sun started to seal up and the blood flow stopped from them. As he was laying their, unconcious, one idea, one thought swirled around his head. I need you... dont go...

((Oh, nyeh. Gotta ruin my good spirits. ^^ Just messing with you. It was fun though...I'm glad I managed to plan it all out...tactics. Gotta love 'em.))

A blaze lighting within Loriauna, she began to glow a faint silver. Eyes gleaming and body shimmering, she quickly changed into her dragon form. The sunlight glinting off her scales as she soared itno the wind, she flew off into the distance, heading for Lomedor and praying that Tithdaeron would be alright.