D'Sar held his saber and began to swing it in an alternating figure eight fashion. The buzz of the crackling energy grew louder and softer depending on the way he juggled this searing blade of darkforce.
It was bravado time in his head. Time to posture himself and show his skill as a swordsman. He began near juggling the sword as he passed it from hand to hand, even lofting it in the air and catching it behind his back! Navarre stared intently, sizing up his foe. Hoping D'Sar would make a mistake with his show-off mentality, Navarre retracted his claws and said, "If weapons are what you wish to use, then here's one that you may peruse!" From the back of his wings off his side arm he pulled out a large curved sword fused of steel, diamond dust and mythril. With leather and and brass handle, it was fused together eons ago in the mystic caves of a time before Kjeldoran, it was one of his more prized possessions in his armory.
Preparing a defensive stance they both landed on the ground. Darkstar cracked his neck and began to charge. The first blow sparked as the energy blade crackled against Navarres sword. It bounced off as they both whirled around to have the blades meet again at hip height. Then they withdrew the dooming instruments to attack from the top. D'Sar went for the left shoulder and Navarre parried the attack. Swinging the weapon downward Navarre crossed to the waist to meet the lightning fast strike of the Darklord. Blow after blow was countered and parried. D'Sar raised his boot and kicked the bird square in the gut, knocking him to the ground on his hind quarters. Lunging into the air and into a somersault, Darkstar came down upon him, blade first... yet missed.
The blade went deep into the ground crackling with energy just missing Navarre's hip, slicing and burning through only mere fragments of clothing. Before Navarre could think to react save for raising his blade to slice the bats head, the smoke of brimstone engulfed his lungs and D'Sar had disappeared again.
Coughing the foul smelling smoke from his lungs, he spat out, "Leave the trickery for the Trickster, D'Sar, and perhaps your efforts will go very far!" said the feathered fowl.
Navarre stood up. He looked around and saw no one. Looking down at himself he saw nor felt any damage save for his belt was cut and had fallen to the ground about his feet.
Peering about he looked up to a castle wall and saw in the moonlight, the hellish creature that D'Sar was, perched high atop the tower. Wings opened in the wind, cape flowing freely against his wings of evil. Darkstar was perched, looming down and staring. Navarre noticed he was holding something in his hand that gleamed in the moonlight.
The bird gasped, then felt for his belt. The same belt that had fallen to the floor. The very same belt that had held his Gold Watch. "Bastard!", he muttered. "The watch will help you naught this day, for it is your heart I will filet!" he shouted in retort.
"Trickster..." D'Sar thought, "There's a name I've not heard in a while... I suppose the trickster, Coyote would be proud of that little maneuver...I must remind myself to look him up after I finish carving this bird for dinner..." he snickered to himself.
"If you thought that was amusing...I've so much more in store for you!" the man-bat yelled down as he pulled from his Insidious Cloak of Nightmares a wand, handcrafted of the most sinister materials. D'Sar had made this himself. Aiming upon the bird he fired a horrific dark bolt of a spell known as the Draconian Strike! It rained down towards the bird, yet not so fast his reflexes did not allow for him to react with a counter attack of the infamous "FINGER OF DEATH!" which met his spells blast in mid stream.
Navarre leapt to the air and once again spread his wings in flight up to the Dark Lord. Mystic bolts left his fingers and D'Sar dodged the blasts as he returned fire with his wand, missing each time. Just as D'Sar thought the birdman was dead in his sights, the wand ran out of charge as only seven shots are allowed. Navarre let loose a barrage upon the bat and struck him dead center, sending him sprawling across the roof top.
Navarre raised his blade up to prepare for a death strike.
Then it happened.
Holding his sword straight and to the right of his face, the bird averted his eyes to the reflection in the blade. It was big... It was bad...and it was quite angry. It was the Dark Governess.
Her whip came from almost nowhere and wrapped itself around the birds torso with deadly accuracy. The pain from the whips tail was excruciating without his Gold Watch to lessen the effects.
The wrapping was so tight it took no effort at all to whip his body, tiny in comparison, to her massive giant size, and fling him far from the battle area. Navarre flew without control over several miles from fight-point zero. The backlash of the giant whip sent him sailing so fast that it was not at all easy to control his spin, his apothem nor trajectory. Spiraling like a top off the table, he practically drilled his way through trees and brush to finally crash through the walls of a cave and slam into the inner rock wall, scattering loose feathers everywhere in a cloud and leaving an almost cartoonish impression of his body...
...and there he laid... In the bedrock ...barely breathing... bruised ... battered...and BURNING MAD.
"...cheater." muttered Navarre.
" The round is yours as we now see, yet don't count this bird out when we reach round three..."
* Editors note*:Concluded (as far as Darkstar is concerned) in the last entry here at the bottom of the blog page titled:"The "the Flown Coop"