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A Wizard's Duel (Order Ranking Challenge For Rank 7)



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Chromatic

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This is a challenge going to Grandmaster_Chris for his spot at 7 in the Order Rankings. As agreed previously, this battle will be between our characters in The Seven Angels of Death RP. My only ground rules outside of the standards will be as such:

- Naturally, all powers will be reflective of the Harry Potter spell basis.
- Battle will be non-canon to the RP.
- Battle will be between either our original student characters, or between our Angels members.
- Leave Unforgivable Curses out, especially the Killing Curse.

GM_C may begin the battle.
 

GrandMaster_Chris

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Battlefield: A fogged up city with a bit of rain.

High above the deserted city in the gray sky was a single bird. A crow to be exact. It looked down at the concrete below it, thinking about if it wanted to leave the sky or not. A few more seconds later and it descended to the ground and began picking at its right wing. "Caw!" It squeaked. No one answered, just an echo of the birds cry. With that in mind, it began to change back into it's real form.

The skinny bird legs changed structure and size, becoming bigger and longer then black pants blanketed them. The torso and chest went back to that of a normal being and was covered in a black vest. Next, the beak and beady black eyes disappeared and replaced by normal human parts. Once all of his fur was gone, the person brushed his bangs back and put on a pair of shades.

"This is Rem, I'm at the target site." He said, "The opponent has not arrived. I'll let you know how it goes when it's over. I'm excited to see who I'm fighting."

(I hate opening posts)
 

Chromatic

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Sanctuary.

The word had been thrown around for as long as most people could remember, though not as frequently as others. Even so, it maintained a constant presence within the dictionaries of so many societies. By these encyclopedias of linguistics, the word had long been coined as someplace of perfection; one of those places in which one could easily achieve that ultimate mental tranquility, which flowed into the body like water through a filter. One could fell at a supreme peace in such a place, shedding all their worries as snakeskin.

This city in which Reginald Cross had found himself, however, would have failed as a Sanctuary by most standards. Most would have regarded a place such as a fun-filled, sun-bathed beach as such. But as he pulled himself up out of his carved wood chair, one sitting amongst fifty others dotted in the pub, Reginald Cross could feel that exhilarating euphoria of Sanctuary from this dank, abandoned settlement. In a place like this, he was able to just be; there was no pressure, and no need, to try and act likes things he wasn’t. He could just be who he wanted to be, other than what his company needed him to be, since no such company existed.

By the time he had stepped out of the shady pub, onto the fog smothered power, he bore a half finished glass bottle of soda pop in his left hand, which he sipped with a feeling of purity. “That’s some good stuff, these Muggle brews,” he said, simultaneously releasing a belch. “I wonder where the lot of them went. Awful fishy to not have any people in such a nice place.” Looking both up and down the narrow, cobblestone street, he departed for the direction he believed to be south, fading off to search for anything more of interest.


((Not to great a post)).
 

GrandMaster_Chris

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Minutes went by, no one was still to be found. The fog showed no sign of clearing up. Rem let out a great sigh. "Cave Inimicum..." He said. This spell would alarm him if any enemies were to try and sneak up on him. He wandered around, knowing that he would find something sooner or later. And he did.

Standing there was another member of the Angels of Death. His name was Reginald Cross. A tall, 50 year old man who looked a lot younger. Hard to believe that he was working with the dark side at such an old age. But he was indeed, one of the finest wizards of this day. You had to be a good wizard to be a teacher at Hogwarts.

"Oh, Regi Cross is my opponent. Very well then." Rem said, "He hasn't seen me yet. Maybe I can get the jump on him."

Rem whipped out his dark brown, dragon hair wand. "What spell should I use? I know he'll probably see it coming. He's not new at this. Even wordless spells might not get him" Rem said. He knew good and well that Reginald had pretty much seen and done everything under different aliases. Regi Cross, the teacher at Hogwarts was just another one of them.

Rem flicked his wand and pointed it like it was a gun, straight at his companion. "Everte Statum!" Rem thought. An orange, light green jet of light shot out of his wand and straight at Reginald Cross. The wizard duel had just begun.
 

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Nothing... The streets were of the dullest sorts, the kind that only the relentlessly boring Muggles would have tread through on the worst sort of days. Shops for the soul purpose of selling what Muggle's called 'computers' seemed to have been the focus of this particular streets. Labels Cross had not been accustomed to in his younger days filled the musty, allergy threatening windows. And there seemed to be constant theme amongst these contending neighbors: Each one claimed to be the best, far superior to the one to its side, or across the street from it. This place is perfect. The epitome of... everything that Muggles do. Maybe that's why everyone's gone. Satisfying this thought, Cross rewarded himself with another sip from the soda bottle, realizing for the first time that it was completely flat. "Damn. Still good though."

After a short while, perhaps a minute, five if he had to give himself that much time on those lonely streets, his eyes came into range of an intersection; beyond, the outlines of builidings, stretching higher to the sky, and taking up more space upon the horizon domineered over those by which he was surrounded. For whatever reason, his pace hastened, as though this were a destination he had set in mind. As his legs carried him closer to that spot at the dead center of the intersection, invisible to him from such a distance, another figure began to stand out amongst the stillness of the scene. He wasn't sure at that moment what it was that seemed to be drawing nearer was the same shadowy outline of finite shape as the building.

For a moment or two, Reginald was uncertain that the figure was even worth noting; under such a thick over of fog, it almost seemed like a trick of the light. It could have been a person, or some being; but could have just as well been nothing. Confirmation being needed in either favor, Cross continued forward with caution, inadvertently grinding to a slower speed. It was just as his hand had taken grasp upon his wand that a jet of orange sparks leapt out from the white-gray backdrop. There was little time for any impressive spell casting. His actions, dictated by his need to be on the move, were spearheaded by an initial Apparation, poppping out from the path of the sparks, relocating him to a set position ten feet behind his attacker. "And what, might ask, would you do if I weren't the one you were intending to curse?" His wand was now at the ready, going through a waving motion, and his mind focused on his assailant, and on a single word: Confringo.
 

GrandMaster_Chris

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Just as expected, "And what, might ask, would you do if I weren't the one you were intending to curse?" Rem turned around, his opponent was at least ten feet away and very dangerous. Although the fog gave neither person the advantage, the threat was still there since they were so close.


Rem stood there, wand at the ready, waiting for Reginald to respond with his own spell. He had no time to formulate a plan or apparate out of the way. His wand was still in his grip and he was very handy with it. He raised it to about eye level to shield his eyes. "Finite. Rem said. The spells cancelled out and everything returned to a stalemate. Rem's plan had failed so he had to disapparate down the long street so he could think of something else. Once out of harms way, he cast an Impervius Charm on his shades. He could now see clearly even through the very thick fog.

He knew that Reginald was down the way, waiting for something to happen. Rem also knew that the perfect spell to use for this....."Reducto!" Rem roared. The spell traveled down the street, destroying everything in its path. The same would happen to Reginald if he would not get out of the way.

Rem then disapparated to the inside of a pub, to keep Reginald from countering him right away.
 
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Spurring quickly into action in the wake of his opposition’s counter, Reginald began to formulate. The time in which to do so came for him as the foe disapparated, leaving him alone at the crossroads, wading his eyes trough the fog in search of the next spell to burst out; waiting in the wing, he maintained a sharp focus on the casting of ‘finite.’ For the time being, he figured, he’d just match this person spell for spell. It’d be no different from the others’ strategy thus far.

As expected, the next spell came in, heralded by a hoarse roar from the distant caster some number of yards down the road. Again, the matter of dueling instincts took control of Cross’ actions. Wand flourished forward, and posture balanced, he cast the negating spell dead onto the reduction curse, retracting his arm to cover his eyes as soon as the former had been released. Both spells collided with one another about twenty feet from him, sparking a burst of light, which would have otherwise left his both wizards’ eyes temporarily indisposed; as the light faded, he found that he was more or less a sitting duck, possibly in line with the shot of hunter in the brush.

For what he intended to be the last time in this clash, he apparated, moving himself from the streets to the rooftops near the intersection, standing about twenty feet back from the front side. There, he observed the streets below. He held the high ground for now; but in a wizard’s duel, that could always become shifted against him, unlike those Muggle gunfights. Regardless, it gave him, for that time being, a vantage point over his foe. Now… that last spell came from… that direction. He looked across the street, to the row of tightly packed shops and attached apartments, and the thought settled on him that he wasn’t dealing with a rookie of dueling. He’d have to level entire rows of building just to get to him. Or, I could just… Indeed! Pointing his wand to his side, away from the suspected location of his foe, he uttered under his breath, “Expecto Potronum.”

The silvery wisp, barely, perhaps not even visible from a distance against the foggy backdrop, formed out of the wand’s tip. Out for the corner of his eye, he could make out the formation of a corporeal visage coming from the wisp: A scaled looking thing, with a sort of curled in tail dropped down to the ground. A chameleon, the representation of Cross’ innermost self, scurried across the street as a semi-translucent construct. It’s orders clear: scope out the shops across the street, and report back; in this time frame, Cross laid low, and somewhere out of view. Carry on, my little soul bearer.
 
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He waited for awhile for his opponent to counter attack. Rem knew that his opponent was still alive and kicking. They were now at a stand still. Or were they? He knew something was up on the outside by the way everything was so quiet. Rem didn't like that at all.

Rem couldn't really do anything about it. Despite being able to see clearly through the fog thanks to the spell he cast on him shades, he could not find a trace of his opponent anywhere. Then he got an idea. If he was not on the ground, then he must be somewhere in the skies. Watching him like a god in heaven. Rem looked around at the empty bar. "Avifors" Was the only word he uttered and more than half of the objects turned into crows. Rem himself then turned into his crow form and together they took flight.

Rem stayed tightly in the flock. Not leading or in the back but somewhere in the middle. His exact location in the flock was for his opponent to find out. Rem knew that his opponent couldn't destroy all of them, whatever ones he did hit would of course explode into feathers and the lives ones would the order to attack on the spot.
 

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The passing of moments, spent in idle waiting ate away at whatever remained of the day. And still, these mere minutes within the passage of time felt like eternities to Reginald. It was a deception of the world, played onto people whose excitements for a predicament overran, to any degree, their cautions. Under the weighing suspense that came in hand with the duel, Cross' resolve to finish things swiftly leaned to outclass his need to remain safe. Damn. Why doesn't he just come out from hiding... Quite blindly, he had overlooked the truth that he was guilty of the same atrocity of cowardice in the line of fire.

But what's that? Ensuing from the otherwise barren streets below, the familiar fluttering sound of numerous wings made presence. A flock of crows ascended into view, holding a loose, yet secure formation above. It wasn't too telling a sign; those sorts of things were to be expected in the midst of such a settlement. Just crows, flocking around an empty city. That's all they were... But then, could they be more than that? Animals, Cross remembered, were always apt to aid an animagus, which he happened to be. True, they could always tell what he was, but that never stopped them from lending him hand. Bingo. If his Potronus failed him, the animal kingdom could make up for that.

It was the same awkward sensation, even after so many years of being able to pull it off. And it was made even more awkward by his position, at that moment, laying flat-backed against the cement and tiled roofing.The initial jolt of pain came as the worst of the lot, his body compressing down into a lesser size, a little over fifty percent of his human height, and much less the weight. Each muscle, each bone, reworked itself, and realigned with their proper positions within the body of an owl. His arms had vanished completely, replaced by a set of wings; his feet and legs were now as talons. He was covered, mostly in jet black feathers, with faint gray etchings around where his glasses had been.

Restricted in his language, he uttered a soft 'hoot', spinning his head a in a full three sixty before kicking off from the roof. Nature never questioned itself. The crows would not be so inclined to second-guess an owl, even if it were flying in the midst of daylight. And even so, anomalies of that nature were not unknown to mankind either. In his mind, he was safe from speculation, whether the hands of nature, or at the hands of man as he joined in with the flock.
 

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The city skies were more peaceful than Rem had imagined them to be. It was hard for even a cold and heartless person like him to admit it, but he enjoyed it very much. The way the wind felt on his wings and feathers just put him at ease. But at the same time, while he liked being in the air, he couldn't really enjoy it. Let's not forget that he was in the midst of a battle. Stopping to see the scenery would have to wait. He would of course have to visit this city once more. It would become his thinking place, perfect because no one was here.

"This is taking to long. I'm tired of this hiding...." Rem thought. The flock shifted formation and Rem ended up being somewhere different. Another part of the plan. Being in control of them and all meant that it was easier for him to get the crows to do what he wanted him to do. That's when he noticed the owl.

"An owl in a flock of crows, not unlikely, just very skeptical." Rem said. Of course it could've just been a coincidence that an owl was with them. This was immediately ruled when he noticed that the owl was not carrying a package or a letter.

The thought of it being an animagus crossed his mind. This of course, was the most likely reasoning. There was only one way of finding out. Rem and his flock of crows dipped lower as they reached the rooftop of a building. "Oppugno" The flock of crows turned on the owl and began flying towards it to attack. But this wasn't the real plan. Rem dived toward the rooftop while transforming back to his human form. Quickly, he whipped out his wand and pointed it at the crow leading the attack on the owl.

"Confringo!"
The spell hit the bird, causing an explosion around all of the birds, potentially killing all of them including the imposter.
 

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Danger immediately became a present force. An owl, flying amongst a flock of crows, is apparently too far-fetched for nature to process? I would think not! Such an idea seemed preposterous in Cross' head, even once it had been run through so many times. No. There's something else about these crows. He was fortunate in one respect: the crows had pursued him before he had entered too deep into their ranks; this played to his advantage, somewhat, not to mention the sheer power of his wing beats pushing out and in that seemed to act as a mild ward. From there, it took no more than a quick dive out of the flock, and a booking off in the direction from whence he had come from. If he could get the slip on the crows before their path caught up with his.

It seemed logical enough a tactic; if his foe were behind the crow attack, his retreat back to his previous perch could play out better... perhaps convince the other that there was a nest in that direction, somewhere, not that owls necessarily built their homes atop of civilization. Again, stranger things had been known to happen. But again, some slight of fortune had played into his hands, as the roaring of 'confringo' carried out from a rooftop below, igniting the leading crow in the flock. The time had been there though; the breathing moment in which to switch things up before the spell hit its destination. He allowed for gravity to work itself upon his body, riding said force in a nosedive at the pavement below.

It had still been too late, though only by a small margin. The resulting force from the explosion pushed on the owl’s figure, forcing it to the ground faster than it had intended. Not particularly lethal, but certainly painful, as he skid mildly across the pavement on his stomach. Managing with a bit of effort to pull himself to his feet, he considered changing back and fighting back; but the thought maintaining his guise overruled that. Returning to his true self couldn’t be a good thing, and although staying an owl could be no better in the long run, it seemed a better path to take. His mind echoing the word ‘bingo’, he fluttered off in half-feigned pain. He wouldn’t go too far though. Just far enough to hopefully throw his pursuer off of his trail for a brief spell. It all depended on if he’d take the bait.

((Kinda out of it with this post. But I'd say it would check through)).
 

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(Sorry this took so long and it's so short. Will you forgive me :( ? )

Rem watched from the building the stood on top of as the owl dived to the ground. There was no time for Rem to fire another spell that would hit, for just seconds later it was on the move again. The confidence that he gained from the hit was eating away from him, thinking that he was on the verge of victory. Rem followed the owls movements with his eyes and made his move. He moved slowly on the ground once he got from the rooftops.

"Don't run....I'll find you." He whispered, trying to sound as creepy as possible.
 
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