Quill vs. WillowtheWhisp

Dante flew forward with single-minded determination, never wavering, his steps confident and without hesitation. Gray ash flew up behind him as he covered ground quickly, quickly forming a haze behind him. Despite Dante's eagerness to truly begin the battle in earnest, his eyes remained alert, two orange searchlights peering through Loft. As his eyes wandered up from the boy's arms, to his face, Dante was surprised to see indecision there. While the boy certainly seemed whimsical, and lacking of conviction of almost any kind, Dante had expected that his loosed arrow would at least make the Hylian take him seriously. Not so apparently, as Loft just stood there dealing with his internal turmoil as Dante came ever closer.

Inhaling deeply of the night air, Dante emptied his mind. He felt the crackling of charred sticks and leaves beneath his feet, the crispness of heat-blasted grass. The ash, too, stuck to the soles of his feet, soft and powdery, almost like snow. A worthy and fitting battlefield. Dante thought wryly, remembering his past. Odd, how he'd once lost himself in a place like this, only to now find himself anew. Perhaps not so strange after all, though. Gripping his Whirlwind tightly in one hand, Talon, his Kukri, in the other, Dante began his last hurdle towards his goal.

The small Deku did not register that Loft had held his knife to his own breast for a moment, so intense was his concentration on Loft as an enemy. He saw only the weapon, could only perceive it as a threat to himself. Dante's mind fell into the lull of battle, the cogs and wheels of his mind turning of their own volition. It had always been this way. Always there had been the seed inside him, the fetus of something cruel and calculating, darkly cold and efficient. This was the reason for Dante's battle lust, why he could never truly part with the ways of war. The sound of steel ringing was its sustenance, and it would drink its fill until it was sated. Though he would have claimed otherwise, combat was like an opiate to him, and without it he could never truly live.

Whatever compassion Dante might have felt for Loft was gone, now, replaced with only the desire to claim victory. Hoping to use his momentum to his advantage, Dante lunged forth with his Kukri. While Kukri are not generally used as piercing weapons, their points are nonetheless able to still puncture skin. With his momentum, Dante'd thought to lend power to his lunge towards the lower body of the Hylian, wanting nothing less than a leg. As it were, Dante's eyes flicked to the side as Loft's hand moved to the tree near him, pushing the Hylian's body off of it and into the air.

Watching as the Hylians body twisted to extend his leg forth, Dante changed his course, as if it had never been anything different. Lowering the tip of his blade, he used the weight at the tip of the almost axe-like sword to pull him downwards quickly. Taking a knee, Dante's momentum carried him forth, his body sliding over the powdery ash on the ground. His mind barely registered the feeling of a leg brushing against the crown of the leaf on his head. Using the position that he was already in from the lunge, Dante now whipped the sword in his right arm to his left, causing his body to sharply turn about face along the fairly pliable ground. Planting his feet into the ground, their tips gouging into the warm soil, Dante's momentum lifted his stout body from the ground, returning him to his full standing position.

Raw magic seared through his arm and into his Whirlwind as he raised his arm and squeezed off a concentrated blast of air enchanted with the Wind Enchantment, aimed to take the now landing Hylian in the back. Dante was incapable of registering his words, the sound of Loft's voice merely a buzz in the back of his head. But Dante still had yet to deliver his counterattack. Immediately after squeezing the trigger, Dante began to fall forward, right leg lifted from the ground and bent at the knee, his left firmly planted and now bending too. His left arm, which held the Whirlwind, returned to its place at his side, the firing end of the gun pointed at the ground behind him. Dante inhaled...

Exhaling, just as his face was coming dangerously close the ground yet again, Dante pulled the trigger of his Whirlwind once again, releasing a normal spray of wind. Simultaneously he pushed from the ground with his left leg, and in concert with the explosion of wind behind him, he was sent forth at an alarmingly fast rate. Transferring the momentum of his fall into forward momentum, Dante was a blur on the battlefield, rocketing at Loft. Holding his Kukri horizontally outwards from his body, the Deku slashed forwards, aiming to take Loft's legs from him at the knee. With momentum even greater than before, and the natural cutting power of his sword's shape, even the weak Deku would be able to cleave through bone.

(OOC: It's fine. It's probably powerful enough to break ribs, but seeing as Loft took the brunt of the blast with his back, I can't imagine that he'd have much more than a really ugly bruise from it.)

As Dante sped towards his opponent, sword ready to remove the Hylian's legs, he began to curve his body, putting the weight of his body into his strike. Twisting his upper body along his hip, his body pivoting upon his left foot, Dante had every intention of completing the stroke. Alas, his enemy would not have it that way, Loft pulling out what appeared to be a candle. In a moment, Dante's vision was engulfed in red and orange as a ball of flame blossomed to life in front of him. Reacting instinctively, Dante lifted his Whirlwind to the flames.

Pulling his right leg from the ground, Dante squeezed hard upon the trigger. The blast of wind collided with the bottom of the fireball, while it simultaneously caused Dante's upper body to be pushed back. With his momentum, Dante slid beneath the now deformed sphere of fire, sliding along the left side of his body against the ground. He grit his teeth as the grit of the ash and soil dug into his bark, and the heat of the flames seared his right side. Dante passed beneath the magical flames as Loft soared over the top, flying through the air, the Deku's orange eyes still staring at his enemy as the two passed each other.

Dante pushed from the ground with his left arm as the light died away, his left foot digging into the dirt. His right foot landed on the ground, and he was righted once again; as his body tilted back towards its upright position, Dante swiftly put away his blade into its sheath in the small of his back. Grasping at his neck with his right hand, holding tight to the clasp, Dante sucked in a deep breath of the still singed air, feeling a Deku Nut deposit itself in his throat. Preparations made, he went on the offensive once again.

Breaking off at a break neck pace, it seemed Dante was doomed to repeat his tactics over and over; charge at his opponent until it was dead. Dust particles exploded with each of his steps, flowering slowly as Dante's body began to pick up its pace, falling deeper into its battle madness. As he fell into himself more and more, Dante's mind became ever sharper, forming a deadly point.

Pulling hard against his cloak, Dante tore the cloth from around his shoulders, whipping it in front of him. In the span of a moment, the cloak was flying through the air, straight at Loft, propelled by an air blast from the Whirlwind. Expelling the air within his lungs, Dante fired off his Deku Nut, a pop! ringing out in the air. The brown nut flew closely behind the flying cloak, the two being pursued by a still running Dante. But after only a moment, the nut overtook the cloak, flying beneath it and hitting the ground, a bright flash lighting up the night air.

Simultaneously, Dante shot the ground on his right side, still holding the Whirlwind with his left hand. The cloak blocked the explosion of light from his vision, preserving the small Deku's sight. Bits of dirt and rock flew outwards as the blast hit the ground directly to Dante's right, the Deku's small body lifting into the air. Pulling his legs in tight, Dante formed a spinning ball, rotating counterclockwise through the air. It wasn't long before Dante felt a hard surface beneath his legs, though. Dante had spun into a tree just to the side of Loft, his feet planted firmly upon the trunk.

Though it must have been fairly brittle, it seemed strong enough to bear his weight. Pushing off the tree with all the strength from his legs he could muster, while also shooting the trunk with his Whirlwind, Dante rocketed towards Loft, hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Pulling his sword from its sheath, holding it in a reverse grip, Dante aimed to cleave Loft's head from his shoulders just as he passed behind him. As the blade left the sheath, his sword rapidly accelerated as it no longer had to contend with the friction between sword and sheath.

He had missed. His blade had cut through nothing but air, when he'd meant to execute the Hylian on the spot. How frustrating. He thought to himself. This Hylian was putting up more of a fight than Dante had thought he would, absolutely refusing to die. As his legs flipped over his head, his tiny body somersaulting through the air, the Deku still wasn't entirely convinced that his opponent was even taking him seriously, much less truly fighting back. And it was beginning to really piss him off. To be thwarted, seemingly so easily, was like a slap to his face, worse even, the insult didn't even seem intentional. He was beginning to actually want to kill the nut-case. But he had no time left to ponder his dark designs, as he completed his flip, his feet touching cool dirt.

Momentum carrying him forward, Dante immediately threw his left side backwards, twisting his body and hip. Lifting his right foot from the ground, he pivoted upon his left, his right leg touching back to the ground once the half circle had been completed. Sliding backwards, chest heaving from the exertion, his eye caught the telltale glint of metal. Already on guard from the unfortunate lack of severed head on the ground, he instinctively lifted his Whirlwind, lightly squeezing the trigger as the face aligned with the incoming projectile. His left side pushed backwards as the ball of air came into being, recoil forcing his shoulder back. Using the push, he bent his knees, aligning his left side behind his right, his body a parallel to his upraised sword.

He had made himself a smaller target, reducing the chances that the projectile would strike him, once deflected. While the air blast could not fully stop the sharp throwing knife, striking the point head on, it had at least managed to slow it down. This, combined with his speed, instincts, and knowledge, culminated into a single blade-stroke. Pulling down on the handle of his kukri, it's own light glinting lustily in the moon's rays, he brought the tip of his sword down upon the thrown knife. Metal singing, the dagger rebounded, flying errantly to the side and into the darkness. But the sphere of air continued on, its work not yet over.

It followed the dagger's path to its source. As a ball of fire was born, the wide ball made itself known, a blossoming flower of fire lighting the dark arena. Warping the flames, Dante was given more than enough time to jump backwards, away from the one hazard that could easily destroy him. As the light died down, and eyes readjusted to darkness, all Loft would get as a response to his words was a flash of dull forest green, disappearing behind a crisp tree. Grasping the nearest branch, summoning his considerable skill as a tree climber, Dante jumped off the ground and began to scale the trunk of the brittle tree. Whirlwind and Kukri stowed, climbing the tree was still considerably dangerous, due to its brittleness. But it had its rewards, too.

Swiftly positioning himself into a now leafless perch, Dante prayed that the temporary blindness, from the sudden change in light, had given him sufficient cover to scale the tree without terribly much notice. Loft would know that he was in the tree, just by sound, but would he be able to find Dante in time? Grasping the strong wood of his bow, he flipped it back over his head, stringing an arrow to it, and drawing it in the span of just a moment. There was a Twang!, and suddenly an arrow was in flight, headed towards Loft's head. They had put a fair amount of distance between themselves, but for a bow, that was no distance at all. It was not a question of whether or not Dante's aim was true; the question was, would Loft even see the arrow in time, if at all?

Dante knew he did not have much time. His arrow had struck, but it had not ended it, but he had no time to contemplate his failure. He was a sitting duck, perched as he was in the brittle tree. It was clear it would not take much more abuse, as he already began to hear the tell tale cracklings. His eyes narrowed as they followed the small form now running towards his tree. He saw not the tell tale glint of steel, only whatever it was that created those infernal fireballs. From where he was, though, the fire would reach him and he would surely be consumed. He could not jump from the bough he stood upon, for it would break before he'd even be able to leap from it. Trying to do that would only leave him falling from the sky, unable to recover in time to escape the flames. He was trapped where he was.

But he was not helpless. Putting his back to the trunk of the tree, he kicked hard at the branch below him, just a bit forwards from where he stood. His heel struck the already splintering wood, and it fell away to the ground, crashing in a plume of ash. Dropping his bow around the makeshift hook upon the tree, he looked back at the fast approaching Loft. He took a deep breath. His timing had to be perfect, he had to be perfect. Too late, and he'd catch fire before he could put his plan into action. Too soon, and he'd go head first into a fireball. His heartbeat quickened, slamming against his chest like a smith's hammer upon an anvil. The flames may lick him, they may crackle and burn away the impurities, but steel would remain.

Now! Left hand grasping his Whirlwind, he fell from the broken bough, catching hold of his bow with his right hand. His world was inverted as he grasped the end of his bow, its string bumping against his chest, his feet now firmly planted upon the underside of the jagged piece of wood. Moving his feet to the joint where branch and tree met, he pulled his body up with his right hand, bending his knees and coiling his body. His muscles nearly gave out from the strain, and just as his hand could take it no longer, he released himself, pushing off from the tree. Firing off a blast of wind at his feet, Dante shot down from the tree like a meteor from the heavens, every bit prepared to smite this earthly mortal. A form of green and brown flew like a star, straight towards a now blossoming fireball.

But he was not falling to his death. His hand, which had been pointing at his feet just a moment before, had enough time to move itself to his head, no pointing at the heart of the sphere of heat and fire. Whirlwind glowing green, with the last of the magical energy that resided within him, a wind enchanted blast of air exited the gun's face just in time to meet the fireball. It opened the gates for Dante, the green ball forcing its way through subsequent fireballs, punching a hole through the deadly veil. Right hand, that had been holding the bow, now firmly held the handle to his blade. Talon screamed as it was pulled from its sheath, the polished steel glowing red and orange. As the final flames parted, he saw his quarry, loosing a fearsome yell as the blade made its exit from its home, accelerating quickly from the lack of friction. For Loft, it must have seemed that the Deku was flying from the depths of hell to claim him, when those fires shattered apart.

As the flames parted, and Dante descended from the heavens, time seemed to slow to a trickle. His blade came to life, singing its bloodlust, the fires glinting angrily upon its faces. Yet, despite everything that had happened, it would not savor the taste of death just yet; the edge whistled through nothing but air as the boy fell to the ground. His body twisting from the unsheathing of his blade, and the subsequent failure to kill his enemy, Dante still continued his plummet to the earth. He curled his body, preparing for impact, but pain flared to life in his shoulder, the distinct feeling of metal parting his flesh raising an alarm.

"Guh!" He cried out as his body hit the ground, jarring the knife and digging it further into him. Bouncing along the dirt, and finally skidding to a halt, Dante's body lay inert, aside from his heavy breathing. The Hylian had fallen to the ground, just as he, and the deku had not missed that. So he took his respite for a moment, before bracing himself. Sucking in his breath sharply as he tried to rise, Dante was quickly defeated by his wound, his right arm buckling out form under him as he tried to pick himself up. Growling, he twisted on the ground and rolled onto his back, grabbing hold of the knife with his left hand. Eyes closed tight, he tortuously extracted the blade, wood scratching upon metal with a hiss. Sap coated the knife and oozed from the open cut, staining his tunic dark, the cloth sticking to his inflamed shoulder.

Breathing hard, almost panting now, he pushed back with with his left hand, clenching the muscles of his stomach to bring his body up from the dirt. Nearly crying out with the effort, Dante did not give up, pressing on. Finally standing up, hunched though he was, his body shivered with the strain and pain. Kukri dragging across the ground, held by a hand locked by agony, he slowly made his way over to the Hylian. When he finally reached his goal, his legs were shaking so badly he could barely stand. Grabbing the sword's handle with both hands, raising it to the skies, he looked down at Loft's face. "No hard feelings." He simply said. And so death made its final descent.