The staff connected, and rapturous voices sounded between the unheard trio of inhuman intellects. The one who controlled the arm that swung the staff knew better than that, as the receiver of the attack showed no visible signs of pain. In fact, rather than recoiling, the man began an advance. He took several deliberate steps towards Arctos, preparing a rather hefty blow. Luckily, the man swung with the blunt end of his weapon. Unluckily, there was no time for Arctos to deflect or avoid the blow. A pre-emptive wince, a quick curse was thought, and the hilt was upon him.
A cracking sound was audible as the hilt seemed to phase through the snout of the ‘bear’ and instead strike a very human skull. Half a second later, the ursine visage did what could only be described as imploding upon itself. It collapsed upon itself in what appeared to be a concentrated gust of air, and once the air was gone, so was the bear’s head. All that remained was a masked human head, devoid of all features.
There was no response.
Did he just –
Get knocked unconscious? It would appear so.
How is that even possible?
I’m not going to question it. Rather, I’m going to seize my opportunity!
After standing lifeless for a moment, another swelling of magical currents began – this time outward. As it rushed from the masked head there appeared to be a few red flecks, no, ashes – ashes that gave off no heat and seemed to disappear from the air moments after their creation. Red feathers sprouted from the mask, and a horribly sharp beak appeared towards the front of his face. Dark green eyes nestled into their place, staring intently at the man who was now walking away from him, rubbing his shoulder. Inside the mind of the newly formed avian-man-thing, Arctos sighed heavily and made his presence known to all that could hear; that is Archelon and Ajdarxo.
Muttered under a calmed breath and barely audible, Bartgeier asserted, “You’re going to regret that.”
He reached up, through his beak and what would appear to be his vulture skull, to feel his human skull. He ran his hand up and down his forehead; it was a bit wet, presumably blood. In fact, Bartgeier realized that it was quite a bit harder to concentrate on anything than it should be. A slight concussion? Of course.
Great job Arctos! Honestly, making life harder on the rest of us and somehow managing to be knocked unconscious! I wasn’t aware that was even possible. Wonderful!
I only did what the rest of you told me.
Well, at least you’re subservient.
While the switch of consciences was being made, the man had begun speaking:
"Well, first. If you don't know much about your foe, and he seems to be better outfitted than you, should probably exercise a bit more caution than that, though it was good to take advantage of my poor form. Just don't be too reckless, there are some really strong people out there, and it's kind of hard to know how strong someone is if you run in and die. Especially if you aren't making lethal attacks. Even if you manage to give a good hit and take a good hit, you're losing if you're the guy with the staff."
His sentence ended essentially at the same time as Bartgeier began rubbing his head. In one ear, out the other, just about. He had heard just enough to be annoyed. Bartgeier was having a hard enough time paying attention to anything, let alone some thug trying to teach him combat basics.
“You shouldn’t think so highly of yourself. Better yet, you shouldn’t underestimate me. I’ve a bit of a temper. My friend, by comparison, is much nicer.”
As he spoke, a small flame appeared in Bartgeier’s hand. It molded itself into a sphere, crackling and sparking with white hot embers. He looked down at it, thinking to himself that it seemed a bit smaller than he expected. Either way, it was likely due to the unholy headache that pierced his skull, causing him to hardly be able to concentrate on the fireball. It had cooked long enough, it was time to lob this fiery concoction.
Bartgeier tossed the fireball at his opponent, who was a few steps away now. It was going towards the man’s chest, until it detonated shortly before reaching the man. Red ash and fire scattered in every direction. It would be hard to avoid all of the blast, but it wouldn’t be too hard to minimize damage if the man reacted in time.
Bartgeier returned to a relaxed position as he watched his fire do its work. He leaned lazily on his staff that rested under his right arm, and rubbed his head a bit with his left hand.
Elemental Mastery Sickness [Post 1]
(Sorry this took so long. Things got a bit hectic at work, got home and basically went straight to sleep for a few days. Also, I wasn't sure about whether I should edit your text out or not. My character's appearance change would probably stop you mid sentence or something in reality, but I just kind of assumed that Xander REALLY wanted to finish his sentence. Let me know if you want me to change it.)