Court of Hearts Pt.1

The fight continues

Year 396

Varanthar had pondered over his memories as he was now two hundred and twenty five.

A ripe old age in highbourne years, as many were falling young under his rule of dictatorship.

Volgor had waited minutes as the pale elf wielding his staff illuminating of yellow, held him at bay. The nearer he was to the gems the more he felt as if his heart was about to explode.

He was no longer twelve, but two hundred and thirty two. Volgor began to laugh a deep depressed laugh in his head, "Dragon's do not fear the light." Yet he did, for he had heard and believed the legends of old.

Something about the true power of the gems being used brought back the glory of Varanthar, regardless of all his atrocities and genocide plans.

He had seen the full potential once before when he was a fire atoned crusader during the Balshmir Crater and Portal Wars.

No more thinking for Varanthar Firestorm, action.

He screamed in a deep pitch, glaring he began to charge; no longer spinning the staff. Instead holding it still as he ran, so still the light looked as if it had declared Volgor Dracon the enemy and chose to dart after it's former master...

Volgor saw the attack as Varanthar spun before the strike. The staff coming from the left.

So 'The Dragon' remembered.

Doing the splits he remained still this time, instead of following his youth in the dodging sense. His fist extended and rotated, clashing against Varanthar's knee. A loud pop echoed throughout the arena.

Dropping the staff and collapsing to the floor. Varanthar's knee had now been broken, and his mind spun in shock.

The valley now longer glowed like a beacon, now back to it's subtle torch fires.

Volgor slowly stood, breathing heavily and cringing at his own injury, Varanthar looked up to him in a panicked expression.

The two began to share words, but that if for another story.

Varanthar's knee was engulfed in fire, straightening and melding the bone together. While Volgor stood over him, believing he had won, yet no horn had been shouted to call the end of the battle.

The tyrant kicked the dragon back a few paces, rising slowly only to meet a sidekick to his nose. Blood sprayed across the grey sand, yet Volgor's foot remained in place. Varanthar didn't budge, grasping ahold of the foot, his face and left hand ignited in fire. Healing his wounds and melting Volgor's skin. Leaving no scar.

The top half of his right foot's skin had been cooked away, putting all his weight onto his left foot as he began to panic. Retreating several paces back.

Varanthar seized the opportunity, conjuring more red fireballs. Shooting one directly at his head. Volgor quickly went into the splits, but too slow. Loosing his hair as the flames touched on strand of his locks and began to scorch his scalp.

The elf screamed, and slammed his hand into his own skull. The flames only spreading, all throughout Volgor's face and upper body. Then faster than seen before, Volgor leaped onto Varanthar. To prevent the fire from harming himself, Varanthar extinguished the flames from Volgor.

His face was black as night, his yellow eyes staring at him intensely. Grabbing ahold of Varanthar's left arm and pulling it to the right, at the same time he wrapped his body around the tyrant's back. Squeezing the air out of his lungs with his legs formed in a triangle position, as the two battled for wrist control.

The screams of the arena shook the very rocks of the valley, this battle was exceeding all expectations.

Volgor began to tire out, as his fury was being replaced with immense pain from the burns. Pushing Varanthar's head to the right side as he unlocked his right leg. Sliding his entire body over to the leg he had earlier injured. Hoping for some tenderness.

Holding his knee and calf, his legs wrapped around his thigh as he began to twist the leg in a very unnatural position. Varanthar was grimacing, yet held his wicked grin, laughing in a hysterical manner as he was becoming handicap again.

Rip and pop, torn ligaments and a destroyed knee cap.

Volgor took the advantage standing up he easily slammed his right shin into the laugh elf's cranium. That stopped the laughing as Volgor mounted his torso and pummeled his face into the gray sand. So bad the fire rejuvenation had a hard time keeping Varanthar's face in tact.

It succeeded, but the conclusion remained he was beaten unconscious by the crimson dragon. The crowd had been roaring as the orcish champion destroyed the Trolls attempt.

And they believed the best defeated. Thinking that the Trolls would soon become friends again. Yet the trolls became bitter over the lost, most remained silent. The others, which were lead by Puntah headed out of the arena entirely.

Volgor had not been able to notice anything afterwards, falling beside his defeated opponent, burned and scared himself. This isn't what he thought victory would feel like.

Gralkar spoke, "Volgor Dracon, champion for the orcish people pummels the Troll's champion!" He takes a breath and slowly sits back down onto his throne. "A truly spectacle as always was Varanthar Firestorm."

The other champions arrived out of the gate to retrieve Varanthar and Volgor