Chapter 297: Verbal Duelling
Nirya pauses for a moment as she decides what she wants from the duo, "What I want? When I win, you will both drop to your knees and kiss my feet for forgiveness." she states with crossed arms.
The two Nords scowl, but ignore the slight to make their own demands as well, "And when we win, you'll spend one night with each of us." Jernil says with a cruel grin.
Nirya and many of the other Apprentices listening are taken aback by their demand, some laughed and jeered at Nirya for it, while others just wrinkled their noses at Jernil in disgust. "That is hardly a fair trade." she retorts.
Jernil just laughs, "An apology from us is equal to a lifetime with your body, bitch, just be thankful we only want to show you who's in charge for a single night."
Michael frowns at the duo, "I thought 'honourable Nords' such as yourselves wouldn't lower yourselves to touch an Elf?" he sarcastically asks, "How about we even the stakes? Unless you guys are scared of losing? Two fresh Apprentices versus two Senior Apprentices, it seems obvious who should win, right?"
Jernil scowls but nods, "Fine, say your piece so we can get this over with!"
Michael smiles in response, "You will apologise to Nirya, and you will pay her ten Septims for every day you've been fighting." he turns to Nirya, "How much is that again?"
She glares at the duo, "Almost half a year now."
Michael nods, "Then, that should be around... One thousand seven-hundred septims give or take..." he shrugs, "Math was never my good point... That fine with you two? Or are you going to chicken out at a little gold?... How about this? If you win I'll pay the same amount." he says, sweetening the deal... He had zero doubt that he'd be able to beat these idiots.
...
The duo talks amongst each other for a moment before eventually agreeing, "That's fine for us, just be ready to hand over the gold!"
With the terms agreed upon, the two sides separate a good distance and Master Faralda is given permission to begin the duel. "When this coin hits the ground, the duel begins!" she announces and flicks the coin after a moment.
Unfortunately, the Nords were hardly playing fair, as before it even hits the ground they were already casting.
*Ching!* *Ching!*
The sound of two separate portals to Oblivion opening rings out, with two Atronachs appearing from them. One 10ft Frost Atronach with club-like hands, and one Flame Atronach, which glides out like a dancer and immediately starts hurling fireballs at them.
Nirya ignores their apparent cheating and instead throws up a Ward to block the fireballs with her left hand, all the while, her right hand begins channelling an attack of her own. Not a second later, she throws her right hand out, casting Ice-Spike which hurls a sword-sized sharp piece of ice, not towards the Flame Atronach that'd attacked her, but at Sorkas just behind it.
"Aha! You think a weak attack like that would harm me!?" the Nord laughs as he throws up a Ward of his own. Already the duel wasn't looking good for them, it was a four versus two fight now that the Nords had conjured their summons, leaving Faralda on the back foot.
She glances over towards Michael to see how he was doing, her mouth opening slightly as she spots him teleport on top of the Frost Atronach...
Michael sits atop it with a shit-eating grin as he looks down at Jernil. The Frost Atronach were usually large and inflexible, this one, in particular, having joints that didn't allow it to raise its arms above its head, leaving Michael completely safe from its attacks. "Man, you guys must really suck at this... I've just started learning here and I'm way stronger than you!" he mocks, causing Jernil to almost froth at the mouth in indignant rage.
The scene was pretty comical to an outsider's perspective, Michael casually sitting atop Jenril's Frost Atronach as it stumbles and waddles around in a vain attempt to attack its new rider. All the while its summoner shoots and misses a barrage of Ice-Spikes at him.
Truth be told, Michael hadn't yet learned how to cast a Ward, so he was basically just forced to dodge the attacks... Were he not using a dagger to keep his seating atop the Atronach he'd have been hit a couple times as well, his Gandalfr runes providing the speed and reaction speed he needs.
"Sorkas! Help me kill this fuck!" Jernil growls with a bead of sweat beginning to drip down his cheek.
"I got it." the Nod retorts, halting his Ward and thrusting both hands forwards, but not towards Michael... A light spark to life around the Atronach, and suddenly it's completely surrounded in a Cloak of Flames, forcing Michael to leave his new mount.
He lands on the ground with a roll and glances over at Nirya who'd just finished off Sorkas' Flame Atronach, "Shall I end this already? Or do you still want to show off a bit?" he asks, causing a frown to touch her face.
"I'm not here to play, Michael, my pride and dignity is on the line. If you can finish this then do so!" she exclaims, having to use both hands to block a Fireball cast by Sorkas, it explodes against her defences and she barely manages to hold it off... Another attack like that though and she'd be done for.
Michael just throws her a thumbs up and looks to Jernil, "Hey, buddy, I wonder how much you've got left in your reserves."
The Nord grins despite himself, "I've more than enough left in me! Enough to bed that knife-eared bitch at least!" she shouts, causing a couple High Elves in the crowd to scowl at him for his racist insult.
Michael nods, "Good, then this shouldn't instantly kill you. Mana Void."
"CHRAAAAK!*
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