TToV vs Blaine

The Treasure of Veron
         Chapter 6
A Hunt and Those Who Take Part in Them

Under the cover of the forest, it was easy to forget that Veron wasn't like the rest of Yatora. The sounds of life all around her reassuring Jiorea that the dead town was far behind, she could almost convince herself that she was home, stalking quietly through the  trees as she hunted with her family. The only reminder of her unusual location was slinking vaporously by her side, coiling through the trees.
“What are you doing, I told you that your next opponent is near the mountain. You should be going that way.”
“One of the reasons I'm not. I'm not ready to fight, much less climb.” She keeled, searching the forest floor. “The other is that I'm following a game trail. I haven't eaten in two days and haven't even seen anything potentially edible yet. This is my best chance of actually eating today. If thats running contrary to your wishes, so be it.”
The Zleet 'bristled' “The mountain has game on it, goat and other things.”
“But deer is much more tasty and easy to catch. Now be quiet, this trail is fresh and the last thing I need is for you to scare my dinner away.”
The Zleet grumbled, then fell silent. Jiorea unslung her crossbow, loading it before she moved forward.
  As the hour moved forward the forest grew thinner around her, clearings becoming more and more common, but still her prey eluded her. Then she got a break.
The forest fell away and sunlight flooded over her. Jiorea blinked, her eyes adjusting to the change. A field of grass, nearly as tall as her, flowed to the cut short horizon, dotted with huge monoliths of white stone. Testing the air, the sweet smell of fields and clean damp air flooded Jiorea's senses, and under it, another smell...
<Time to get busy.>  Dropping her pack she ducked low, creeping up on the scent. Peering through the tall grass, she saw what she was after.
  Five deer were ahead of her, too far for many bows, but well within the reach of hers. Upwind and oblivious to her presence, they grazed calmly, only the occasional ear twitch showing that they were alert to the world around them.
  Jiorea watched them, choosing her target carefully. <Nothing too big, I need to carry this thing...that one.> A small adult strayed from the herd, it's gait betraying a slight limp.
  It was over quickly, the bolt flew from the crossbow with a sharp 'twang'. The herd scattered, bounding over the grass as they fled. Not one remained. <Damn! Did I miss?> Jiorea ran to spot she had last seen  her mark, fighting the sinking feeling that was waring with hunger in her stomach. < I can follow the herd, but they'll be on alert now, I don't know if I could get in another shot today! But it's already been almost two whole days since I last ate, I don't know if I'll be in any shape to hunt anything tomorrow! Damn damn mand....> Then she smelled blood. Following the scent, she found her bolt lodged deep in the dirt, no blood marred its surface, but a trail splattered across the grass told the rest of the story. <Yes! It must have gone straight through. That means it can't have gone very far.> Backtracking and grabbing her pack, she followed the blood stained trail.
  It was easy enough. The deer lay dead not far from where she had started, it's resting place marked by spire of stone.

Jiorea hummed to herself as she butchered the deer, happily swallowing delicate slices of heart, liver and kidney as she worked, taking predatory delight in the taste of meat still warm from the body. The Zleet hovered by her side and Jiorea felt it watch her sure movements with it's own version of curiosity.
“Do you want some?”
The Zleet recoiled from her outstretched claw and the sliver of liver it offered. “No.”
“Aw, come on. It's actually really good, and nothing beats a fresh kill.” Jiorea thought for a moment. “Well, almost nothing. If I had a few weeks-”
“I do not eat.”
“Well fine. Be that way. Means that theres more for me.” But it was said with good humor. The feel of a full stomach and the prospect of enough food to keep her going for a while had put her in a cheerful mood.
  A mood that vanished like so much smoke when the grass rustled loudly in front of her.

Jiorea scrambled for her crossbow, cocked and loaded to act as a warning to any scavengers that wished to make a case for her kill. Hackles raised, tail stiff and displayed behind her, she prepared herself to snarl at anything audacious enough to presume on her.
  She was completely unprepared for the tall, fair haired man who strode out of the grass. She felt herself deflate. From the fresh marks in his otherwise well kept armor, the tattered banner of a kingdom she didn't recognize draped across his shoulder, all the way to the sword that hung from his side, everything about him screamed 'experienced trained warrior.” The most frightening things however, were his eyes. They were blue as ice, and older then the face they inhabited. Which in her experience meant that he was not one for frivolities.
The Zleet by his side did not improve her prospects.
“Your next opponent.”
The man gave Jiorea a calculating look. She caught herself shrinking under the gaze.
“Surrender, this tournament has gone on long enough.” His voice, tinged with a accent she didn't recognize, was cool and precise.
Jiorea felt herself bristle. “Hey! I'm the one with a crossbow trained on you! You should surrender!”
She noticed a soft sigh come from him, then he wasn't there.

Blinking, Jiorea looked around. Had it all been a figment of her imagination? The grass was still flattened where he had stood, but nothing else indicated that he had ever been there. Then a sound behind her activated every instinct in her body. She jumped hard into the grass.
Looking back, she saw thick smoke rising from where she had stood moments before, a black mark still smoldering in the grass. <What the-!> She didn't get much more then that before a strike of lightning fell from the clear heavens, singing her tail as she blindly dodged.
<Where is that coming from!?> She ran low through the grass, using it as cover as the strange storm raged around her, some strikes coming close enough to cause anything metal on her to spark and hum uncomfortably. The thick smell of lightning overpowered everything around her.
  The storm lessened, and she stopped, staying low and hoping the grass would hide her as she caught her breath. Taking a risk, she peaked out, trying to locate whatever it was that was causing a storm in clear skies. She caught a glimpse of the man standing on the white spire of stone, silhouetted against the sky, then a roaring fireball was coming at her. The smell of burning feathers told just how close she came to being cooked.
  Panting as she dodged through the grass, which was becoming pockmarked with blacked patches of burned earth, she held her crossbow close. When the firestorm once again lessened, her opponent either tiring < I really, really hope he's tiring.> or unsure of where to strike next, she peered through a gap in the grass. He stood calmly, observing the land from his high tower as the wind tugged and pulled his banner. She carefully lined up a shot and released it.
It flew straight and true, screaming through the air...and he vanished, the bolt passing harmlessly through the place his chest would have been. <Damn it! Where'd he go!> She ran as she pulled another bolt from her quiver, pausing to try to load it, scrambling to get it in place before her position was found. No luck. Survival instincts took over as she dropped to the ground, abandoning the weapon as she gripped the bolt. A cutting breeze passed close enough to stir the feathers over her head. She got her her hands under her, twisting, tail sweeping the ground. <OWWWW!!!> it hit something solid and covered in metal. Eyes fogged with pain, she brought the bolt around, stabbing ungracefully at what she hoped was a leg.
A hiss of pain rewarded her as the bolt skidded over the smooth surface of his greave and slid into a gap at the back of his leg. Unsure of whether she had caused any actual damage and unwilling to stay long enough to find out, she abandoned the bolt and kicked away, trying to take cover in the grass. She was lucky she had decided to stay low, a burning wave of air vaporized everything above her. Dodging to the left, she scrambled through the grass, trying to get the great stone between her and the sorcerer.

Unsheathing her sword as she ran, she skidded around the corner of the stone...Where the man was waiting for her, sword drawn and ready. Yelping in surprise, she jumped over him. He seemed taken off guard by that, but she was in no position to take advantage of it. Landing behind him, she ran before making a sharp turn, bolting back to him and striking with a flurry of blows. He blocked them easily. <No way! Damn, this guy is good!> He lifted a hand and she got her head out of the way just as a bolt of energy sparked from his fingers. <Too good! I'm outmatched here!> She broke away, jumping as hard as she could, landing and dashing over the top of the stone, leaping away from it as a flash of heat and shrapnel nipped at her heels. Rolling in the grass, her balance thrown off, she skidded to a stop. Looking up, she looked at where she had been moments before. The flawless white surface of the stone was marred with a smoldering broken wound. Gulping, Jiorea scrambled under the cover of the grass again, searching her pockets for a particular vile. <He's serious about this! If he's going to play with fire, I going to!> Pulling it free, she stopped, looking for the man.
  He wasn't anywhere. Jiorea  froze, the silence unusual after all the explosions and crashing steel. She listened, smelled, watched, but there was nothing but the wind blowing over the battlefield, nothing but the smell of smoke on the wind. Then he was in front of her.
  Jiorea staggered backwards, his sudden appearance shocking her. Unfortunately her surprised stagger wasn't fast enough to avoid the sharp blade that came down, slicing through her vest and inflicting a shallow wound diagonally across her chest. She cursed loudly as she flipped away from him, clutching the bloody injury.
“Surrender. I'm more skilled then you. If this continues, I'll be forced to kill you.” He looked appraisingly at her. “At this rate, you won't last long.”
“It's only a flesh wound!” Jiorea snapped back. “Hardly even worth mentioning.”
“So you still refuse to surrender. Very brave. Now prepare yourself, this will be the end.” He raised his sword, and charged.

Jiorea jumped over him, gritting her teeth against the stinging pain in her chest. She brought her sword down, but he blocked the strike easily. Landing behind him she managed to get her sword up just in time to block his own downward strike. Panting against the exertion, she felt her legs start to shake under her. <Hope that the witch knew what she was doing with this!> She threw herself at him, forcing both of them off balance, but using the moment of freedom to duck under his blade and away from him.
“Running again!?”
“Hardly!” She jumped, twisting to throw the small vile.
It hit his side with the musical sound of breaking glass. Then the explosion happened.

  Coughing in the dust laden air, she staggered upright, using her sword for leverage. Looking around she saw the man still standing, smoke billowing around him. <Well, damn.>
She strode to him, sword brandished. “Ha! Take that!”
He didn't answer, just lifted his sword, and charged her. Dodging to the side, she cut hard across his side. He fell to his knee, but swiped at her again, aiming for her legs. She jumped dodging the swipe, and pushed him down, her knee on his chest as she held her sword to his throat. Something hot splashed against her thigh. Looking down, she quickly averted her eyes.
He was missing part of his chest.

  He stared up at her, his breathing shallow and rattling. “Surrender” She snarled, pushing the tip of her sword against his throat. He said nothing, just stared at her with defiant eyes. The wound in his side pulsed, the ground darkening with sticky crimson.
“Surrender damn it! I can help you!”
“I can't. Too many people depend on me.” he rasped.
“You can't do anything for anyone if you're dead!”
“That's not part of my mission.”
“Surrender! I'm not going to ask again!” Jiorea nearly screamed in frustration. She felt her own wound weeping down her stomach.
“No.”
Jiorea tensed, willing herself to move her sword, to just end it. But she couldn't. Instead, she stood frozen over the dieing man, watching the fierce life drain from his eyes just as the blood drained from his wound.