The Finals of the Mage Sets

[Envin]

~ The Seventh Trial of Single Combat | Finals of the Mage Sets ~

Upon a plain of the Pelennor, south of the White City, a large space of grass had been plowed under into a rectangle of soft, brown sand. About this sand was set a fence of white wood, and flags and streamers ran from the poles of the fence. Pavilions and tents clustered round the field, and within the high pavilion at the center of the field's side sat the Lord Aragorn, here to moderate this the first event of the Trial of Lords. At his right hand sat his bride, the Fair Arwen Evenstar, come hither to observe the match, to have a glass of winel with her husband, and to offer advice should the match prove difficult to judge. This is the seventh of the trials in single combat, and the third fought by spellcasters. It is to decide who will face the winner of the Warrior Sets in the Trial of Lords, the Championship. The contestants of this event are to be the Lady Megloren, dwimmer-crafty Ruler of Isengard, and the insidious Morsereg Dindaedel, the renowned Black Istari, King of Angmar. Even now they enter the field at opposing ends, and now the crowds assembled cheer for them. Bowing to one another at distance, they make their way to the Pavilion of Lords to take the Cup of Tournament, and to pay homage to the Lord of the Trials ere the event begins. Aragorn rises, and all follow his lead as the contestants draw nigh. Aragorn proffers them the Cup, they drink, and bow to all assembled, and then walk to their places at opposite ends of the field.

Aragorn drops his hand and sits, and the Seventh Trial is begun.

[Morsereg Dîndaedel]

Morsereg stood there, in one hand his staff, the other hand his Morning Star. "Today, Megloren, I shall take what should have been mine when I attacked you: I shall take victory over you, and you shall fall." He stood there, ready to fight, awaiting her first move.

[Megloren Istdale]

Megloren smiled and held her staff tightly in her hand. "I am not scared by you, Morsereg. And I will not fall this day. Nienna grieves for you in your master's own halls."

[Morsereg Dîndaedel]

"Speak naught of what you don't know, Witch of Angrenost! I shall strike you down, and I shall proceed to the Finals, today I end your participation in this tournament!" Morsereg ran forward, swinging violently with his Morning Star towards Megloren's stomach.

[Megloren Istdale]

Megloren lept backwards like a cat, landing gracefully on her feet. "I speak of what I know." She assured with a wink. "Come and get me coward."

[Morsereg Dîndaedel]

"Me, Coward?" Morsereg laughed, darting forward after her, swinging once again with his Morning Star, vengeance burning in his eyes, "I am not the one who runs!"

[Megloren Istdale]

Megloren mearly smirked and jumped to the side again. "Your weapon is slow and clumsey."

[Morsereg Dîndaedel]

"Slow and clumsy? Speak naught of thyself personifierd within a weapon. Do not get cocky, Ms. Istdale. If you recall, I was the one who truly vanquished my enemy, and didn't win by default," He growled, tossing his staff to Aragorn and unsheathing his Sword. With his Morning star and Sword, he was truly a cold blooded killer. He rushed forward and began to become quite violent, slashing and swinging at every opening he saw.

[Megloren Istdale]

((How can you swing at that close of a battle?))

Megloren parried his sword swings with her staff, yet his attacks were swift. She would not be able to hold this defence for long...

The Istari Witch jumped backwards and unsheathed her Elven Sword. Running forwards herself, her launched her own feirce attack, mocking Morsereg's previous one.

[Morsereg Dîndaedel]

(it's a close combat weapon, and while you're blocking my sword, I can always spin backwards.)

Morsereg brought his pale blade up to block the strikes of Megloren, and while he occupied her with his blade, he swung at her legs with his Morning Star.

[Megloren Istdale]

((Wait... Does your Morning Star have a chain, like the Witch King when he attack Eowen? Or is it more like a mace? I was thinking it had a chain.))

Megloren jumped backwards using all the strength her muscles could muster, but she was a bit too slow. The edge of his weapon caught her ankle and sliced it open, blood seeped out. "Well done."

[Morsereg Dîndaedel]

A morning star has a chain, but still, we are no farther apart or closer together than the WK and Eowyn were, and remember, Morsereg's style is fashioned quite after the WK)

Morsereg growled, "You are the coward, dear lady! Always running, never to face me like a true Istari! Come now, Witch! Show me what you're made of!" He pressed on, slashing and swinging at her torso and legs.

[Megloren Istdale]

((Its not like that battle. Its much closer seeing as we're both of near-equal strength, its more of a close-range swordfight which makes it much harder for you to swing while we're fighting with swords.))

"I am not running, are you blind? If I was a coward, I wouldnt be in this tournament, Morsereg. Use your common sense." She swung at her blade towards his upper-half while his concentration was on her lower.

[Morsereg Dîndaedel]

(Not really, I can turn around the other way and swing, or swing overhead, and such. THere's a way, trust me. The ball is barely head size, so yeah...)

Morsereg rose his sword to parry up top, continuing to swipe at her legs with his Morning Star. This woman was getting tiresome...

[Megloren Istdale]

As Morsereg swiped at her legs, Megloren stepped on the chain of the weapon, pinning it to the ground. She flailed her sword towards his stomach, her full force behind it.