Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Across the Veil ❯ Chapter 3: Of Orc's battle and upleasant situations ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: ascended_warrior 
A battle is fought in the after math of the perfect Shi Shi Hodokan
Anime/Manga: Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 03.26.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.5K | Visits: 446 | Status: Completed
A battle is fought in the after math of the perfect Shi Shi Hodokan
Anime/Manga: Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 03.26.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.5K | Visits: 446 | Status: Completed
Chapter 3: Across the Veil
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or settings herein; Forgotten realms and Ranma ½ are the property of their respective owner’s and not mine.
“Speech”
/Common/
Other language
‘Thoughts’
Chapter 3: Of orc’s battle and unpleasant situations.
An hour after her depression blast Ranma had awoken, her head was pounding but otherwise she was fine. ‘I’m never gonna use all my Ki in an attack again’ she thought to herself. The blast had drained her reserves, knocking her out for a good while, now that she thought about it was not such a good idea. If any of those ‘men’ well… they weren’t’ men that was for sure but she wasn’t sure what they were.
‘Stupid, stupid, stupid, I had to pull an amateur mistake. Now they all will know where I am.’ Of course, she was referring to the innumerable number of orc’s, not knowing of any potential allies in the close by and only having met the ugly brutes. Seeing some flying thing approaching off in the distance Ranma decided to make a quick exit, hopefully not being spotted by whom or whatever was flying in her direction.
Hiding off to the side Ranma noticed that the flying object in the distance was in-fact a flying horse, with two figures astride upon it. The horse circled for a couple of minutes before heading off in the general direction that it had come. Sighing in relief she was just about to get up when she heard a noise. 'I don't know where I am but it seems to be freak central' thought Ranma as she went back to hiding behind the rock.
Seconds later the infamous dragon prince himself crested the ridge in a quick summersault, after landing he looked around the area, gaping in wonder at the destruction caused by the blast. After a few seconds, he shook his head and began to examine the blast area in earnest. Ranma used this opportunity to sneak off hoping that he would not notice.
0000
Shaking his head Herb silently berated himself, he may have not seen anyone beside himself do a blast this large but it didn't mean that it wasn't possible. In fact, it was very possible; there were a few warriors’ that traveled in the wilds in china that could do a blast such as this without breaking a sweat. He hoped to meet some of them at one point or another but he had not had the time to seek them out as of yet.
Sighing he began an earnest inspection of the crater, the fused rock was actually rather surprising, one had to use a lot of Ki in a very small area to do something such as this, the second thing he noticed was the heavy amount of depression Ki that was lingering in the air, this was a very bad thing. Whoever could generate this much depression would be borderline suicidal, this did not bode well for his plans. The Ki defiantly had the same taste as the pig-tailed martial artist; if she started using depression blasts then it would begin a vicious cycle that would only end in the death of herself and hundreds of other people. When he found her he would have to begin her instruction in pure Ki use, although not necessarily more powerful it was far healthier to use.
Shaking his head to clear it of it's errant thought's he began to look in earnest for the pigtailed martial artist, hoping to find her near the blast crater created by her Shi Shi Hokodan. Looking back and forth he was unable to find any sign of her, the hard earth leaving no trace of her passing and although his sense of smell was better than an average human he was no where near his retainer Mint's level when it came to tracking scents. His was more along the lines of being able to tell that she had been here, nothing more. Grunting in frustration he began to extend his Ki sense hoping to find at least some trace of her in the area.
0000
Crouching a few feet away from the dragon prince of the musk Ranma hid behind some rocks, controlling her breathing and deciding on a course of action. At first she contemplated going up and confronting the dragon descendent, but shook her head of that idea, before in top form she had been unable to get the upper hand, now that she was tired and low on Ki she would be unable to even last a few minutes, let alone the thirty or so it would take to defeat him. Deciding for once not to do something rash, she engaged the Saotome Secret Technique; she made a tactical withdrawal.
0000
After twenty minutes of intense concentration Herb cursed himself, he had been unable to find any trace of her. Her aura obviously weakened by the large amount of Ki use more than likely made her damn near undetectable for the next few hours, maybe days depending on the pig-tailed girls natural recovery rate, and on whether she learned any Chi manipulation techniques. Sighing he was about to start the longer more physical search for the red haired martial artist when he sensed a strong focused and brutal Ki signature approaching his location.
0000
A figure exited from the mountain, the almost form fitting black leather armour held tight to it's form, it's face a mask of brutality and cruelty. The figure was much like a classic fantasy orc but the similarities to it's more brutal cousin ended as one would get closer, the figure seemed to have bathed at least once in it's life, it's armour and clothing was far better kept than his more brutal cousins and the light of intellect burned fiercely within his eye's where it was but a dim fire within your standard orc. For he was no standard orc but a mighty scrow, grown from the same stalk, as the orcs the scrow were closer to drow in temperament. There society was based on plotting and political intrigue.
All world upon which the scrow first set foot were unprepared for the sheer number of skilled intelligent 'orc's' that would attack them, most fell quickly and as such the scrow had dominated many a world where there lesser cousins were beaten back repeatedly. The mere fact that scrow had set foot upon the soil of a world usually spelt doom for the other inhabitants. But this was not so for the races of Aber Toril, the scrow that inhabited there plane of existence were but of one tribe among many orcs, there ancestors having been pushed into the depth's of the spine of the world mountains before the fall of the dragons.
So the sight of one scrow would be a surprise to all that knew the orc's but one so highly ranked moving out in the open air would have more than a few of the more prominent ruler's preparing for war. But the dire events of late left little to prepare in that direction, instead most were either retreating from the advancing orc horde, regrouping for an assault or too busy elsewhere to bother with a single scrow.
Azait'or snorted as he finally reached the threshold of the cavern, the burning orb known to the surface races as the sun. The fiery orb burned his eye's and made them water; again he cursed his weakness to the oppressive light. He had been trying to overcome this weakness for the better part of a year, but each time he first came into the light he was unable to see for several minutes. Growling he stood there waiting for his eyes to adjust to the glare of the cursed orb.
Finally, he was able to continue his journey to see this Obould many arrows, said to be the Great One Eye incarnate. Azait'or snorted at that, obviously the fools were duped into thinking such a ludicrous claim, the great orc god wouldn't even focus a small amount of his attention specifically on there small back water plane. His concentration and power's were on other world's where the scrow and orcs were conquering the lands and taking control. Aber Toril in the great scheme of the One eye was a spec of dust to be ignored, in recent history the orcs had finally gained a small amount of his attention, enough for him to give one of his more powerful rituals for use among his followers.
Continuing forward at a steady pace Azait'or was preparing to go into a full out run when he caught sight of a dark all consuming pillar in the corner of his eye, looking in that direction a stunned look came over his face for a few seconds as a dark green sun burst upon one of the mountain tops in the distance. Soon the look faded for a smile of anticipation, and battle lust filled vision.
Changing direction and speed Azait'or headed for the edge of a near-by ravine, when it seemed that in another couple of steps he would fall to his doom, his feet left the ground in a mighty leap the terrible but beautiful scene would stun most onlookers. Coming down upon the opposite side of the crevice his feet impacted with a bone-jarring crunch, scattering stones in all directions. Not even slowed in the least by his brutal landing Azait'or continued running at the same brutal pace repeating his leaps, as he tried to ascend the mountain as quickly as possible.
0000
With narrowed eyes Herb looked upon the form of the man beast in front of him, he was clean compared to the other savages he had faced earlier but he still had the ugly as sin look about him. What was more of note was his strong but wild Ki, as if he had been training to use it. But it was not possible to achieve an aura so large and not have control, this creature in front of him should have burned out long ago.
The brute had arrived a couple of minutes after he had sensed him, no grace was within his movements, he was obviously highly trained but in some form of brutal form of combat that Herb had never seen. While the leaps of a martial artist were usually a beautiful thing to behold this beast's were ugly and forceful, where grace should reside only straightforward brutality did. This 'freak' was an affront to Martial arts; no beauty was contained within his movement’s only viciousness.
Herb narrowed his eyes as the figure began to speak. /You their, are you the one that created this blast/ eye's still narrowed Herb concentrated for a second to translate the strange form of English the creature spoke with it's guttural tone. Satisfied that he knew the meaning Herb thought for a second for replying.
/I was not one to create blast, why you wish know/ Herb spoke in a Chinese accent, his English was good but he had not practiced it enough to not sound like an idiot.
/Well then I'll be off, just stay out of my way worm, I'm going to find the originator of this blast and fight him! His head should be a good prize to put onto my mantel, and a sissy such as yourself would just get hurt. / The brute replied, as he began to sniff the air as if to smell out the location of the pig-tailed girl.
There was one thing true about all dragons and creatures related to dragons, they had extreme tempers. One might think that their temper built slowly (which in the case of true dragons it often did) but for the lesser dragon kindred their tempers tended to flare quickly and unmercifully. There were only a few ways to get a dragon to truly lose its temper; one of which was to insult it grievously and the other was to threaten its mate/ perspective mate. No one has ever been foolish enough to attempt to do so to a true dragon but not so for dragon kindred. Now putting all these facts into mind one must think on the grievousness of the insults used, simple one's would get annoyance from the wrym while the truly insulting would cause one to be reduced to there composite atoms in the most painful way possible.
Now dragon prince Herb of the Musk dynasty was not a true dragon, he barley had any true dragon blood in him but he was still related however remotely to a dragon. Add to this the fact that he was not having a good day, he had been mortally insulted (turning into a girl was one of his sore points) and threaten his future mate (even if she didn't know it yet) and you have a brutal concoction that would send a lesser man into a blood thirsty rage that would not be stopped until there was but a bloody smear left of his foe. But Herb of the Musk had learned to control his emotions as part of his training, and to counter the effects of the Hiryu Shoten Ha, so with an iron will he controlled his rage and spoke in an ominously cold voice to the scrow.
"You have gravely insulted me this day creature, and for this you must die" the very air around the dragon prince seemed to pulse with his heart beat, a slight red glow seemed to encompass him like a second skin. He dropped into a fighting stance one that was meant for a fight to the death and waited for his opponent’s response.
Azait'or did not understand the words but there meaning was not lost upon him, just looking at the half-elf's (Herb has pointed ear's, and his cat-like pupils would not be obvious unless you were close up) eyes said it all, he had seen much the same look in many a "noble knight's" face before he destroyed them utterly in a duel, but this man that stood before him was not going to be such a pushover. A toothy grin spread across his face as he drew his trusty axe, this would be a worthy challenge not some mindless slaughter.
The two combatants circled each other for what seemed like an eternity, sizing up each other's threat potential and looking for weaknesses in their respective stances. Azait'or was in a crouch with his left arm forward to block incoming attacks and his axe held above and behind his right ear ready to strike fast and deep. Herb on the other hand had switched to an unfamiliar martial stance, his legs spread with both his hands pointed forward like daggers. They circled each other for several minutes seemingly sizing each other up, until at some unknown signal Azait'or charged...
0000
Sleep was the only thing on her mind, oh how she wanted to sleep, that attack had taken almost all the energy she had so here she was almost completely out of energy and making a tactical withdrawal from the area. She couldn't even make the leaps she had earlier to make the journey shorter, her legs felt like molten lead and her lungs were ever so tired. Sleep what a wonderful experience that would be, Ranma continue to try and get to some shelter when the battle on the cratered mountain top above began, she even with her rudimentary Ki sense could feel the power coming off the two combatants, straining her body further to quicken her pace.
0000
The scrow charged directly at the dragon prince, seemingly ignoring the danger he presented, bringing his axe down the cleave the Musk prince in two he was mildly surprised when Herb went for a direct block rather than a counter. His surprise grew further when the Musk prince overpowered him sending him back a few feet.
He quickly overcame his momentary surprise as a feral grin came over his face, finally he would get the challenge he was looking for. Charging at the dragon prince's position again he went in for a few quicker strikes hoping to overwhelm his opponent’s speed. He was again surprised when the man in front of him flowed around his strikes in a quite unnatural way, almost Yaun-ti like but not quite. Herb landed several piercing strikes to his hide but they failed to do any more than surface damage, if the Musk prince was surprised he didn't show it.
Again the two broke from each other assessing each other's skill, circling each other once more each took in a better measure of there opponent. Azait'or had the advantage in sure damaging potential, one of his axe strikes, even a glancing hit would be deadly and he also seemed to have an endurance advantage. Herb on the other hand would slowly but surely outclass his opponent in skill as well as power and speed, this normally would have made for quite a short fight, but his opponent had a damage resistance that was supernatural. He had shaken off extremely hard hits as if they were nothing, if Herb could not injure the fool this match would be over quickly.
Sadly while Azait'or had the advantage on a more physical level Herb had one on a mystical sort, while Azait'or had only developed rudimentary Ki control, the ability to enhance his strength, speed and endurance, he had no more advance techniques. Herb on the other hand could shoot quite a few powerful blasts of pure Ki without even tiring thanks in part to his dragon heritage and his high level of training, in short the battle wasn't going to last very long.
Again the two circled evaluating each other threat, preparing for the next possibly final exchange, Herb shifted his stance slightly tightening his guard, as his eyes seemed to show deep concentration. Azait'or knew weather instinctively that the next attack by the Musk prince would be highly devastating so he charged once more hoping to disrupt whatever spell the pink haired freak was going to use on him.
When the scrow was once again upon him Herb suddenly snapped into action again he flowed through Azait'ors attack giving him quite a few punches as before, only the attacks were far faster and stronger than before, only now did the scrow notice his folly as several of his ribs cracked and groaned under the assault of the Musk prince. The dragon descendent had concentrated all of his outer anger aura into his hands making them strike faster and harder than before, each penetrating the scrow's non existent defense and causing quite a bit of damage against his tough hide.
Pulling back from each other the combatants once again eyed each other. Azait'or decided to go for a more defensive approach and wait for the dragon prince's next attack. For some reason this caused said individual to smirk as he stood tall in no stance what so ever, but what was of far more concern to the scrow was the ominous glow now gathering at the end of the Musk's prince's hand. Tensing his legs muscle's in preparation to dodge the magical blast the scrow had just enough time to jump before the blast hit.
Jumping would have been a prudent and intelligent action had this been your classical magical blast such as a fireball, which had very little concussive force but did direct elemental damage, but a Ki blast is far different from a magical blast in more ways than one. While magic tends to be more controlled or have a longer duration Ki was by far more unfocused and as such tended to explode violently and with a lot of force, this tended to make crater's and send things flying from the immediate area such as rocks, grass, and the now jumping scrow.
Snorting at the pathetic creature that would dare insult him, Herb turned to a more important directive; trying and find his future wife. Looking around the area of the crater he found signs of which direction she had moved in with a determined glint in his eye he set off...
End Chapter 3
AN: Chapter 4 and five will be out by the end of spring break (hopefully). Once I complete those two chapters I will be breaking this into one-chapter sections, (except the prologue and chapter 1) And I’m still looking for proofreaders if anyone wants the job e-mail me.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or settings herein; Forgotten realms and Ranma ½ are the property of their respective owner’s and not mine.
“Speech”
/Common/
Other language
‘Thoughts’
Chapter 3: Of orc’s battle and unpleasant situations.
An hour after her depression blast Ranma had awoken, her head was pounding but otherwise she was fine. ‘I’m never gonna use all my Ki in an attack again’ she thought to herself. The blast had drained her reserves, knocking her out for a good while, now that she thought about it was not such a good idea. If any of those ‘men’ well… they weren’t’ men that was for sure but she wasn’t sure what they were.
‘Stupid, stupid, stupid, I had to pull an amateur mistake. Now they all will know where I am.’ Of course, she was referring to the innumerable number of orc’s, not knowing of any potential allies in the close by and only having met the ugly brutes. Seeing some flying thing approaching off in the distance Ranma decided to make a quick exit, hopefully not being spotted by whom or whatever was flying in her direction.
Hiding off to the side Ranma noticed that the flying object in the distance was in-fact a flying horse, with two figures astride upon it. The horse circled for a couple of minutes before heading off in the general direction that it had come. Sighing in relief she was just about to get up when she heard a noise. 'I don't know where I am but it seems to be freak central' thought Ranma as she went back to hiding behind the rock.
Seconds later the infamous dragon prince himself crested the ridge in a quick summersault, after landing he looked around the area, gaping in wonder at the destruction caused by the blast. After a few seconds, he shook his head and began to examine the blast area in earnest. Ranma used this opportunity to sneak off hoping that he would not notice.
0000
Shaking his head Herb silently berated himself, he may have not seen anyone beside himself do a blast this large but it didn't mean that it wasn't possible. In fact, it was very possible; there were a few warriors’ that traveled in the wilds in china that could do a blast such as this without breaking a sweat. He hoped to meet some of them at one point or another but he had not had the time to seek them out as of yet.
Sighing he began an earnest inspection of the crater, the fused rock was actually rather surprising, one had to use a lot of Ki in a very small area to do something such as this, the second thing he noticed was the heavy amount of depression Ki that was lingering in the air, this was a very bad thing. Whoever could generate this much depression would be borderline suicidal, this did not bode well for his plans. The Ki defiantly had the same taste as the pig-tailed martial artist; if she started using depression blasts then it would begin a vicious cycle that would only end in the death of herself and hundreds of other people. When he found her he would have to begin her instruction in pure Ki use, although not necessarily more powerful it was far healthier to use.
Shaking his head to clear it of it's errant thought's he began to look in earnest for the pigtailed martial artist, hoping to find her near the blast crater created by her Shi Shi Hokodan. Looking back and forth he was unable to find any sign of her, the hard earth leaving no trace of her passing and although his sense of smell was better than an average human he was no where near his retainer Mint's level when it came to tracking scents. His was more along the lines of being able to tell that she had been here, nothing more. Grunting in frustration he began to extend his Ki sense hoping to find at least some trace of her in the area.
0000
Crouching a few feet away from the dragon prince of the musk Ranma hid behind some rocks, controlling her breathing and deciding on a course of action. At first she contemplated going up and confronting the dragon descendent, but shook her head of that idea, before in top form she had been unable to get the upper hand, now that she was tired and low on Ki she would be unable to even last a few minutes, let alone the thirty or so it would take to defeat him. Deciding for once not to do something rash, she engaged the Saotome Secret Technique; she made a tactical withdrawal.
0000
After twenty minutes of intense concentration Herb cursed himself, he had been unable to find any trace of her. Her aura obviously weakened by the large amount of Ki use more than likely made her damn near undetectable for the next few hours, maybe days depending on the pig-tailed girls natural recovery rate, and on whether she learned any Chi manipulation techniques. Sighing he was about to start the longer more physical search for the red haired martial artist when he sensed a strong focused and brutal Ki signature approaching his location.
0000
A figure exited from the mountain, the almost form fitting black leather armour held tight to it's form, it's face a mask of brutality and cruelty. The figure was much like a classic fantasy orc but the similarities to it's more brutal cousin ended as one would get closer, the figure seemed to have bathed at least once in it's life, it's armour and clothing was far better kept than his more brutal cousins and the light of intellect burned fiercely within his eye's where it was but a dim fire within your standard orc. For he was no standard orc but a mighty scrow, grown from the same stalk, as the orcs the scrow were closer to drow in temperament. There society was based on plotting and political intrigue.
All world upon which the scrow first set foot were unprepared for the sheer number of skilled intelligent 'orc's' that would attack them, most fell quickly and as such the scrow had dominated many a world where there lesser cousins were beaten back repeatedly. The mere fact that scrow had set foot upon the soil of a world usually spelt doom for the other inhabitants. But this was not so for the races of Aber Toril, the scrow that inhabited there plane of existence were but of one tribe among many orcs, there ancestors having been pushed into the depth's of the spine of the world mountains before the fall of the dragons.
So the sight of one scrow would be a surprise to all that knew the orc's but one so highly ranked moving out in the open air would have more than a few of the more prominent ruler's preparing for war. But the dire events of late left little to prepare in that direction, instead most were either retreating from the advancing orc horde, regrouping for an assault or too busy elsewhere to bother with a single scrow.
Azait'or snorted as he finally reached the threshold of the cavern, the burning orb known to the surface races as the sun. The fiery orb burned his eye's and made them water; again he cursed his weakness to the oppressive light. He had been trying to overcome this weakness for the better part of a year, but each time he first came into the light he was unable to see for several minutes. Growling he stood there waiting for his eyes to adjust to the glare of the cursed orb.
Finally, he was able to continue his journey to see this Obould many arrows, said to be the Great One Eye incarnate. Azait'or snorted at that, obviously the fools were duped into thinking such a ludicrous claim, the great orc god wouldn't even focus a small amount of his attention specifically on there small back water plane. His concentration and power's were on other world's where the scrow and orcs were conquering the lands and taking control. Aber Toril in the great scheme of the One eye was a spec of dust to be ignored, in recent history the orcs had finally gained a small amount of his attention, enough for him to give one of his more powerful rituals for use among his followers.
Continuing forward at a steady pace Azait'or was preparing to go into a full out run when he caught sight of a dark all consuming pillar in the corner of his eye, looking in that direction a stunned look came over his face for a few seconds as a dark green sun burst upon one of the mountain tops in the distance. Soon the look faded for a smile of anticipation, and battle lust filled vision.
Changing direction and speed Azait'or headed for the edge of a near-by ravine, when it seemed that in another couple of steps he would fall to his doom, his feet left the ground in a mighty leap the terrible but beautiful scene would stun most onlookers. Coming down upon the opposite side of the crevice his feet impacted with a bone-jarring crunch, scattering stones in all directions. Not even slowed in the least by his brutal landing Azait'or continued running at the same brutal pace repeating his leaps, as he tried to ascend the mountain as quickly as possible.
0000
With narrowed eyes Herb looked upon the form of the man beast in front of him, he was clean compared to the other savages he had faced earlier but he still had the ugly as sin look about him. What was more of note was his strong but wild Ki, as if he had been training to use it. But it was not possible to achieve an aura so large and not have control, this creature in front of him should have burned out long ago.
The brute had arrived a couple of minutes after he had sensed him, no grace was within his movements, he was obviously highly trained but in some form of brutal form of combat that Herb had never seen. While the leaps of a martial artist were usually a beautiful thing to behold this beast's were ugly and forceful, where grace should reside only straightforward brutality did. This 'freak' was an affront to Martial arts; no beauty was contained within his movement’s only viciousness.
Herb narrowed his eyes as the figure began to speak. /You their, are you the one that created this blast/ eye's still narrowed Herb concentrated for a second to translate the strange form of English the creature spoke with it's guttural tone. Satisfied that he knew the meaning Herb thought for a second for replying.
/I was not one to create blast, why you wish know/ Herb spoke in a Chinese accent, his English was good but he had not practiced it enough to not sound like an idiot.
/Well then I'll be off, just stay out of my way worm, I'm going to find the originator of this blast and fight him! His head should be a good prize to put onto my mantel, and a sissy such as yourself would just get hurt. / The brute replied, as he began to sniff the air as if to smell out the location of the pig-tailed girl.
There was one thing true about all dragons and creatures related to dragons, they had extreme tempers. One might think that their temper built slowly (which in the case of true dragons it often did) but for the lesser dragon kindred their tempers tended to flare quickly and unmercifully. There were only a few ways to get a dragon to truly lose its temper; one of which was to insult it grievously and the other was to threaten its mate/ perspective mate. No one has ever been foolish enough to attempt to do so to a true dragon but not so for dragon kindred. Now putting all these facts into mind one must think on the grievousness of the insults used, simple one's would get annoyance from the wrym while the truly insulting would cause one to be reduced to there composite atoms in the most painful way possible.
Now dragon prince Herb of the Musk dynasty was not a true dragon, he barley had any true dragon blood in him but he was still related however remotely to a dragon. Add to this the fact that he was not having a good day, he had been mortally insulted (turning into a girl was one of his sore points) and threaten his future mate (even if she didn't know it yet) and you have a brutal concoction that would send a lesser man into a blood thirsty rage that would not be stopped until there was but a bloody smear left of his foe. But Herb of the Musk had learned to control his emotions as part of his training, and to counter the effects of the Hiryu Shoten Ha, so with an iron will he controlled his rage and spoke in an ominously cold voice to the scrow.
"You have gravely insulted me this day creature, and for this you must die" the very air around the dragon prince seemed to pulse with his heart beat, a slight red glow seemed to encompass him like a second skin. He dropped into a fighting stance one that was meant for a fight to the death and waited for his opponent’s response.
Azait'or did not understand the words but there meaning was not lost upon him, just looking at the half-elf's (Herb has pointed ear's, and his cat-like pupils would not be obvious unless you were close up) eyes said it all, he had seen much the same look in many a "noble knight's" face before he destroyed them utterly in a duel, but this man that stood before him was not going to be such a pushover. A toothy grin spread across his face as he drew his trusty axe, this would be a worthy challenge not some mindless slaughter.
The two combatants circled each other for what seemed like an eternity, sizing up each other's threat potential and looking for weaknesses in their respective stances. Azait'or was in a crouch with his left arm forward to block incoming attacks and his axe held above and behind his right ear ready to strike fast and deep. Herb on the other hand had switched to an unfamiliar martial stance, his legs spread with both his hands pointed forward like daggers. They circled each other for several minutes seemingly sizing each other up, until at some unknown signal Azait'or charged...
0000
Sleep was the only thing on her mind, oh how she wanted to sleep, that attack had taken almost all the energy she had so here she was almost completely out of energy and making a tactical withdrawal from the area. She couldn't even make the leaps she had earlier to make the journey shorter, her legs felt like molten lead and her lungs were ever so tired. Sleep what a wonderful experience that would be, Ranma continue to try and get to some shelter when the battle on the cratered mountain top above began, she even with her rudimentary Ki sense could feel the power coming off the two combatants, straining her body further to quicken her pace.
0000
The scrow charged directly at the dragon prince, seemingly ignoring the danger he presented, bringing his axe down the cleave the Musk prince in two he was mildly surprised when Herb went for a direct block rather than a counter. His surprise grew further when the Musk prince overpowered him sending him back a few feet.
He quickly overcame his momentary surprise as a feral grin came over his face, finally he would get the challenge he was looking for. Charging at the dragon prince's position again he went in for a few quicker strikes hoping to overwhelm his opponent’s speed. He was again surprised when the man in front of him flowed around his strikes in a quite unnatural way, almost Yaun-ti like but not quite. Herb landed several piercing strikes to his hide but they failed to do any more than surface damage, if the Musk prince was surprised he didn't show it.
Again the two broke from each other assessing each other's skill, circling each other once more each took in a better measure of there opponent. Azait'or had the advantage in sure damaging potential, one of his axe strikes, even a glancing hit would be deadly and he also seemed to have an endurance advantage. Herb on the other hand would slowly but surely outclass his opponent in skill as well as power and speed, this normally would have made for quite a short fight, but his opponent had a damage resistance that was supernatural. He had shaken off extremely hard hits as if they were nothing, if Herb could not injure the fool this match would be over quickly.
Sadly while Azait'or had the advantage on a more physical level Herb had one on a mystical sort, while Azait'or had only developed rudimentary Ki control, the ability to enhance his strength, speed and endurance, he had no more advance techniques. Herb on the other hand could shoot quite a few powerful blasts of pure Ki without even tiring thanks in part to his dragon heritage and his high level of training, in short the battle wasn't going to last very long.
Again the two circled evaluating each other threat, preparing for the next possibly final exchange, Herb shifted his stance slightly tightening his guard, as his eyes seemed to show deep concentration. Azait'or knew weather instinctively that the next attack by the Musk prince would be highly devastating so he charged once more hoping to disrupt whatever spell the pink haired freak was going to use on him.
When the scrow was once again upon him Herb suddenly snapped into action again he flowed through Azait'ors attack giving him quite a few punches as before, only the attacks were far faster and stronger than before, only now did the scrow notice his folly as several of his ribs cracked and groaned under the assault of the Musk prince. The dragon descendent had concentrated all of his outer anger aura into his hands making them strike faster and harder than before, each penetrating the scrow's non existent defense and causing quite a bit of damage against his tough hide.
Pulling back from each other the combatants once again eyed each other. Azait'or decided to go for a more defensive approach and wait for the dragon prince's next attack. For some reason this caused said individual to smirk as he stood tall in no stance what so ever, but what was of far more concern to the scrow was the ominous glow now gathering at the end of the Musk's prince's hand. Tensing his legs muscle's in preparation to dodge the magical blast the scrow had just enough time to jump before the blast hit.
Jumping would have been a prudent and intelligent action had this been your classical magical blast such as a fireball, which had very little concussive force but did direct elemental damage, but a Ki blast is far different from a magical blast in more ways than one. While magic tends to be more controlled or have a longer duration Ki was by far more unfocused and as such tended to explode violently and with a lot of force, this tended to make crater's and send things flying from the immediate area such as rocks, grass, and the now jumping scrow.
Snorting at the pathetic creature that would dare insult him, Herb turned to a more important directive; trying and find his future wife. Looking around the area of the crater he found signs of which direction she had moved in with a determined glint in his eye he set off...
End Chapter 3
AN: Chapter 4 and five will be out by the end of spring break (hopefully). Once I complete those two chapters I will be breaking this into one-chapter sections, (except the prologue and chapter 1) And I’m still looking for proofreaders if anyone wants the job e-mail me.