It was four in the mourning when Dizahab arrived in Anfauglir, the sun had yet to rise, and the desert was still cold and very dark. Dizahab peered up into the night stars, they were an amazing sight to behold under the night sky. He enjoyed the dead silence, although he knew it would give him no benefit in this land, for Krakas was a master of illusion, he could very well appear as a desert wind and strike at anytime without warning. Dizahab then quickly tossed himself down to the rocky ground he had cleared a spot for to begin his mourning exercise, today was no different from any other day, CLAP! His claws boomed louder then normal with the sound of his clapping push ups. I must accept this land belongs to Krakas CLAP! The desert in a terrain in his favor, for the heat itself my induce an illusion CLAP! the trick is not being over come with the false visions this land has to offer CLAP! and to be sure only to look through my mind’s eye CLAP! which will tell me no lies. Dizahab thought to himself, rolling over on his back peering over after hearing the sound of a rattle snake. “Your not Krakas are you? Hahaha no, I would expect him to appear as a scorpion if he were to pull a trick like that. So you can enjoy listening to me mister rattlesnake.” Dizahab said doing a sit up. I wonder how the heat is going to play a factor in this match? “One... Two... Three...” Dizahab whispered aloud counting the number of his sit ups. I sure hope I stole enough water for this match, that villager was quite helpful. “Seven… Eight… Nine…” Dizahab continued counting aloud until he reached what he thought to be a sufficient number. Rising up Dizahab stretched and cracked his neck and shoulders, he was glad to be under the cold of the night sky, and then closing his eyes Dizahab took in a deep breath of the cold desert air. He then entered his Savate fighting stance. Although he did not posses the ability to fight while blind, Dizahab often trained himself to remember where every bit of terrain was positioned, that way he could focus on the abnormalities around him. And thus Dizahab practiced his combat style until he could feel the five o’clock heat on his shoulders.

Dizahab decided that was enough of a workup today, he could make up for the parts he skipped during the battle that was yet to come. Dizahab rummaged through some supplies he had stolen before making his trip, things he had no intention of taking with him after departing this desert. One of the hermit’s bags carried a foldable pitch tent that Dizahab began to assemble. It was very worn, and crudely assembled but Dizahab sat inside like he was preparing to meditate, something was better then nothing when it came to providing shelter in the desert. Dizahab then went rummaging for that canteen of water, taking a sufficient amount to keep him well hydrated while he awaited Krakas. Dizahab had also secretly hidden several other bottles along the desert sand and rocks, just incase there was an emergency. Now all there was to do was sit and wait for Krakas, who Dizahab imagined would be showing up very shortly, for only a fool would travel through the hot desert in midday heading to a battle, and too many dangers of the pitch black darkness prevented night travel. Krakas was probably well on his way there now, but Dizahab never dismissed the idea perhaps he was already there cloaked in an illusion of some sort. Dizahab then closed his eyes entering a state of meditation, preparing his mind to take notice for even the slightest change in atmosphere.

Krakas laughed to himself as he hid underneath a rock. The heat was annoying at this time of the morning, but it would only get worse as the day progressed. Not that it would actually faze him, for as rumor stipulated, he had been forged in a volcano, but if Krakas was honest with himself, he was more scared of the drow then the elements. After that episode in Estolad he had made some preparations for this fight. Dizahab had torn through what little resistance the ‘army’ of maximus had mustered, and though Krakas was not some henchmen, those claws of the drow were just as sharp as they were in the village.

Sighing silently, Krakas lay down on the gritty sand and reviewed his spells. The drow had understood him at the inn, and Krakas was certain that he would not be surprised to see him. He seemed to possess the innate ability to see through magical guises and illusions, but Krakas enjoyed playing with people. For his sake and the sake of their mutual respect, Krakas muttered a spell and with a flick of his wrist a little human boy appeared. It stood at half the height of Krakas and wore a crooked grin. Whispering to himself again, Krakas created two more little boys, all the same except they each had different colors of hair. Pointing over the rock, Krakas shooed the illusions to drow’s tent. All three skipped and laughed as they walked through the morning sun. The one with the red stood back as the blond and brown haired boys called out for Dizahab. Grinning to himself, Krakas whispered words that the trio echoed in unison. “Mr. Drow we want to fight you. You are a good man, but we have no one to play with. Would you mind playing with us, we’re soo lonely in the bright sun. Come on, and play with us.” Laughing again in unison, the little boys began pulling on the tent as if they could make the drow any happier and more willing to play with them.

Krakas just sat and laughed at the poor fallen elf…all the while carefully reciting spells so he could summon them at a moments notice. The new ones would be more sadistic in this enviroment. Those brothers afflicting the dark elf were just a premonition of what was to come. Following his old master's advice, Krakas summoned his claws and enhanced his aura. Better to have the basics covered then to be caught totally off guard was what his master used to say...

Dizahab snapped out of his meditation, although when he opened his eyes they were rolled to the back of his head, and gleamed a deep purple. Dizahab had always hated children, they were always so annoying. Then he recalled a long, long time ago when he too was just a child… Dizahab was gifted with claws, thus he was put to work in an underground drow mine shaft at a very early age. Although it was very difficult at the time Dizahab had to learn the method of breaking through solid rock without damaging his hand. That’s when it finally happened, the day the mine shaft collapsed in on itself and all the drow working in there were buried under hundreds of pounds of earth. Dizahab even at a young age had no intention of dying that day, and by recalling his self taught discipline he frantically clawed his way out from being buried alive, leaving the other drow to die. This experience had changed him mentally, it’s what taught him that instinct to survive no matter what the cost. Dizahab, who was then believed to be dead, left the drow village shortly after without returning years later, but that was a different story…

Apparently Krakas is awaiting me outside. Dizahab thought to himself. The time for action was now, but Dizahab liked to make an entrance, he had no intention of walking right out into a trap. Shaking his head, Dizahab’s eyes rolled back to there normal position. He took his large claw and put it through the gritty sand. It reminded him of when he was buried and tunneled his way out. A grin then came to Dizahab’s face as he leapt up to his feet. The tent began to suddenly shake back and forth, and then it exploded up into the sky accompanied by a large sand geyser. Seconds later the geyser of bursting sand went speeding down vertically in the direction of Krakas, and halted a few yards away from him. Then in another explosion of sand Dizahab came leaping out of the sand, claws first, clenching them together as he arose like he was intending to catch Krakas during this assault but came up a few yards short. Dizahab’s entire body was spinning as he arose from the sand, and wind carried him to sturdy land. Apparently he had used a whirlwind spin to push himself through the sand so rapidly. In a recent battle with a Paladin, on an artic tundra, Dizahab had done a similar feat, with the exception of dragging god’s messenger under the snow to be buried alive.

Upon landing Dizahab had a very serious face, he then placed his right foot towards Krakas, and his left horizontally behind, for balance. He claws flung open in an aggressive position as he raised his hands open palmed towards his new foe. Dizahab had entered a fighting stance called Savate, or what he liked to call the ballet of blood. This style was rumored to be developed by sailors, but is famous for the grace of attacks that involve many complex kicks and spins, with additional jabs and punch thrusts Dizahab could utilize with his claws to the best of his advantage. Dizahab then prepares to strike Krakas, spinning towards him he leaps in front of him performing a fast fouette whip kick, aimed for Krakas’ chin, in an attempt to knock his head back hard enough so he should suffer whip lash at the least, but depending on how the attack connects it can generate high, medium or a low level of damage.

Krakas couldn’t help himself; he cracked a large grin and chuckled to himself. The entire show was worth its billing. The geyser of sand and the tornado attack were both extraordinary effects. In fact he would have even been impressed if either was meant to actually harm him, but since both stopped short of where he was now standing, they lost their awe factor. Krakas lost the stupid grin the moment the drow assumed a fighting stance.

In the fight against Maximus, Dizahab had proven his martial prowess. His legendary claws were nasty, but if he focused his strikes through a stance, those feet could be even more deadly. The game was on and Krakas was ready. Especially ready for the pre-emptive strike the drow unleashed. Krakas could only surmise that the graceful spin led to a kick, but it didn’t matter. Krakas had come too far to get knocked up by a simple kick. Focusing his energy, Krakas blurred his movements and activated his racial skill with a command thought. While grinning in a sardonic manner, Krakas waved at the drow and teleported himself to other side of the clearing. Glancing at the recovering elf, Krakas motioned to Dizahab and beckoned for him to kneel down next to him. Quickly, just in case the drow declined, Krakas drew out two glyphs in sand. One was six sided, the other was an ornate triangle.

“Dizahab, come on over here. We both believe that a warrior needs to be balanced in both martial and arcane arts. I want to teach you something. The fight will continue in a moment, but this bit of information may be of interest to you.

Glancing down at the glyphs one last time, Krakas hastily drew out a complicated equation. He clawed a large pentagram with five small circles at each point. The other two glyphs were easier to handle but this required material not readily available. However this was Krakas’ own personalized equation, and it was a last ditch effort. Glancing at the curious drow, and then the clawed out triangle, Krakas sighed and shook his head. Where this urge came from he would never know, but if the drow wanted to enhance his arcane knowledge, Krakas was willing to help.

[OOC: If Dizahab is not opposed, please transfer the spell ‘Summon Stone Golem’ to him.]

Dizahab scratched his chin, a little stunned at first by what Krakas was doing, but his attention was quickly drawn back towards the glyphs he was drawing in the sand. Although the drow didn’t have many magical based attacks in his arsenal was only because he simply preferred tearing people apart the messy way. Dizahab had spent a countless number of hours studying about arcane knowledge, he just never really applied it. “Hmm… Very interesting formula Krakas, although I’m wondering if it would be possible to substitute the required ingredients for this magical monster with sand stone.” Dizahab said pulling out his spell book and writing the formula down. “Ah wait just a second! Perhaps we should change this… To this…” Dizahab said lightly covering a section of the formula and scratching in his own symbols. He then grinned looking over to Krakas, wondering if he realized he changed the formula just slightly enough that the monster golem would have stone claws when summoned instead of normal rocky hands. “I never really liked the faces golem’s had, we can change this… To this, and give him claw like teeth. If we combined a fear spell his eyes would turn to flame, teheh!” Dizahab chuckled.

“Hmm…now that we have some magical trivia down on the ground, allow me to add a mix of combat knowledge. Although you managed to effectively dodge my fouette whip kick, there will be a time sooner or later an attack like that will connect, by me or another enemy on the battlefield. If in the event it does allow me to explain how to reduce the damage to a minimum.” Dizahab said, then began drawing crude looking stick figures in the sand for a diagram. First you must yield to the strike, when an attacker hits your head or face fight the reflex to make yourself rigid in preparation for the blow. Instead relax your body and yield to the strike. If you absorbed the force of my fouette whip kick full on you would be hurt, knocked off balance, or even killed entirely! Now to avoid the blunt of the blow rotate your body at a 45 degree angle. The effect is like pushing a magical or revolving door, your attacker spins you completely around so you come out of the blow ready with another strike of your own, teheh!” Dizahab explained with a chuckle. “I often meditate and use controlled breathing to reduce the pain or damage of the strike, because although you’ve lessened the pain of the strike you will still feel some discomfort. You also must remember no matter how good you are at mastering this skill, some attacks can not be reduced by this, and must only be dodged, which could mean the difference between life or death. For an example, that knowledge would be useless on an attack like this…” Dizahab said as his casual voice got a lot more serious. Suddenly he exclaimed to words, “Ilythiiri Maelthra Zotreth!” His body then spun in a 360 degree angle rising upwards in a gust of wind blowing sand over the glyphs, his claw were positioned upward to strike in a vertical uppercut placed to take Krakas’ head off if connected properly, however because it was such a difficult move the attack may also hit the chest causing less critical damage depending on it’s angle of strike, if not evaded completely.


((ooc: I would love the summon stone golem spell. Also if possible, make a new skill indication for Krakas: Knowledge: How to take a blow to the head. (According to Dizahab) :lol: ))