Chapter ???? - In the Night

 
Garak saw his chance. Cyric was faltering a bit, and the assassin felt a sense that he should help. Besides, if what Bane said was true, then Bane must be stopped from gaining power. Garak felt the cold reassurance of the ice in his hand and tested his grip with it.

From behind Bane, Garak studied the armored warrior's frame and looked for weak points in the metal shell. He watched Bane move with great interest, trying to learn about his body, his armor, and everything that would help to reveal the proper time and place to strike.

Once Garak was comfortable that he had learned all he could, the assassin stepped forward, icy stalagmite in hand, and struck at Bane, hoping to bury the ice far into his neck. The gods would each die by the hands of Garak. They would pay for what they did to him.

Joachim heard the name of the city he was trained in. It caught him then he saw the fight raging on again. These man probably would not pay any attention to his mortal self. They were much to deep in their frenzied debate. He knew that probably none of them would ever win or loose. Things tended to be like that sometimes. He stood by. What would this all lead to he wondered. And where the heck was Gerwin?!

Bane prepares to swing again at the downed Cyric, his blade arcing high into the air. Unfortunately, before he can bring it down upon his opponent, he is engulfed in an explosion of ice, the small shards and flakes of ice raining down all around him for several moments.

Seemingly unharmed, the angry warrior looks around for the source of the explosion, seeing nothing. Roaring in anger, he brings his sword down upon Cyric...and hits solid ice, the blade cutting deep into clear-blue ground.
The Black Lord pulls his sword from the ice, and turns just as Cyric rejoins the fray, a series of quick stabs and slices that finally find their mark upon Bane, gashing his legs and staining the ice a sickly shade of reddish-black.

"And what was that, old friend?"
Cyric taunts, dancing back out of Bane's reach.
"Even in this place, my followers are stronger than you. Can you not see that your time is at an end, that you are but a pebble upon my carriage-track to ultimate power?"

Bane says nothing, simply smiling at Cyric's words. As he bleeds, the thick droplets of ooze begins to melt through the ice, leaving small trails down into the blue.
"Your followers?!" Bane shouts, twirling his blade and advancing, "They're nothing but rabble, fools inspired to serve another fool!"
"They may speak thick words of devotion, but in the heat of battle you will be undone."


"You cannot hope to challenge my power!" he booms, the powerful echo shaking the cave, sending showers of ice and snow down upon both combatants.

Bane was clearly powerful, and Garak was happy to see that he helped Cyric in some way. However, it was not enough. He remained at the back of Bane, hoping to find another way to help. He looked at both combatants, hoping to spot a blade that he could use in some way to assist. It was then that Garak had an idea. He had no weaponry of his own, but he did have his abilities...


Joachim was getting tired of the battle. It seemed as if this would last forever. Also his feeling for his feet was long gone. He hopped from one foot to the other and blew into his hands. "HELLLOOOOUUU!!!" he shouts at them waving his hands up and down. "Sorry to interrupt, but seriously both of you have issues... there have been fights with much more meaning then your personal issues. Honour, love ... but this... it definitely seems as if you should sit down for a moment and think about what makes you angry." The paladin looks at them with a angry face as if he was reprehending a child. "STOP IT ALREADY!" he shouts once more as loud as he can.

Joachim's shouts, please, and soft speeches go unheeded and unheard by either participant, each solely intent on killing the other. Their ears heard only the other, their eyes saw only their enemy, their noses smelled only battle, their minds boiling in murder.

Bane advanced upon Cyric, blade raised high among the shower of snow, while the smaller Prince of Lies slowly paced backwards, ever wary of his opponent's massive sword.

"DIE, BANE!!"

The shout rings out in the cave, an unearthly howl that cuts through the taunts and cries of both combatants.

"DIE, BANE!!"
"DIE, BANE!!"
"DIE, BANE!!"

Echoing menacingly, the noise seems to come from every direction at once, and yet from nowhere at all.

As the scream hits his ears, the Lord of Darkness pauses, the strange sound a disturbing presence, in a place as private as this...

"What?! Who is that?" Bane shouts out in reply, raking his head around to try and spot the speaker.
Instead of swinging at the hesitant Cyric, he merely keeps him at bay, sword forward, as he searches for the source of the shout.

"Where are you? Show yourself, coward!"

Garak was pleased to see the magic having some effect, though he was hoping it would have given Cyric more of an opening. For the moment, the assassin did not even think if this was real or simply a dream. Instead, he was energized with the possibility that he was somehow working to interfere with the plans of a god. Somehow, this night, Bane might just die.

The assassin looked for a weapon he could utilize for his next action. Any sharp item would work, though he hoped Bane or Cyric had a backup blade he could somehow draw. If one spell worked, there was a chance that others might work as well, and the dark assassin had just the perfect one in mind.

Since Garak had been assisting Cyric, he thought that just maybe he would be able to interact with Cyric's gear. Just as a measure of caution, Garak moved as silently as he could while attempting to remain in any shadows. Further, he steered clear of the furiously slashing weapons of the two gods as he made his moves.

As the opportunity presented itself, Garak would take whatever secondary weapon that Cyric had.

"Finally you notice me." Joachim waves at the man with that paused his fight for a moment. "Almost did not think you would ever pay me any attention." then as he notices that his words got past unattended he looks around. What had caused these words of thread. Death was not an nice thing to wish someone be he as evil as he was. Also he had the feeling he knew this voice or at least the avatar that dared to speak them. The evil itself. Garak came to his mind for a second. He threw this absurd idea to the side, why the hell would he be in an icy cave as this assisting to a fight like that?

Joachim was freezing. Gerwin had not yet arrived ... this was just a lousy dream ... he walked up and down for a bit trying to figure out what he could do ... Perhaps he should just leave and search for a blanket or something warm ... his lips hard started turning purple ... "You wouldn't happen to have something I could wear by chance would you?" Joachim asks the two men fighting almost rhetorically, slowly approaching. Avoiding coming close to where they might hit him. He tries to figure out what they have on them. Taxingly he leans forwards.

"..." Lorem didn't understand what was happening. The only thing he knew was that there were two gods in front of him, and that somehow... Someone was interferring in their fight. Also, he knew that he had his weapons with him. "... The hell with this." Lorem crouched down while getting his bow off his back... Only to discover that he didn't have it with him. He groaned and then noticed the many stalagmites at his disposal... Now much as a blade, but... As a blunt weapon... He nodded to himself and pulled one off the ground and then held it high above his head like a mace, before rushing in and slamming it at full force on Cyric's head.

Actions:
Dice Roll: 1d20+10
d20 Results: 18 (Total = 28)
Attack Roll,
Dice Roll: 1d8+3+2
d8 Results: 5 (Total = 10)
Damage Roll,
Dice Roll: 1d6
d6 Results: 2
Ice Bonus

"Where are you? Show yourself, coward!"

Bane's shout goes unanswered, save by his opponent.

"You speak only of yourself, Bane!"
Cyric exclaims.
"You are the coward, you are the fool," he laughs, slowly getting to his feet.

Drawing a pack of playing cards from his pocket, he easily flicks it open, his mouth frozen in an unholy grimace.
"I don't just have one "Ace in the Hole", dear friend," he says, effortlessly flicking a card away. "My entire deck is made of A-"

Before he can finish his retort, he falls to the ground roughly, some unseen force smashing down upon his shoulder, a cold shower of snowy shrapnel on his face.
"Hah!"
"It seems my followers are here as well!"
he laughs, wiping the blood and snow off his sword.
"This icy cave of death would make a fine site for a battle, no doubt. But such a thing must take place on another plane of existence, that I may watch the Cyricist corpses piled high, their funeral pyres a fitting homage to my dominance."

Sheathing his sword, Bane adjusts his armor, then spits on the ground in front of Cyric.
"A souvenir. Enjoy what little time you have left, fool..." he adds, turning to leave...




 

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