Akin's Throat 3

Malachite's muscles bunch under his gleaming crystal armor, and with one swing he buries Karthos deep in the blood-soaked woman's body. She screams in pain as Malachite completes a blow that would drop a full-grown rhinocerous... well, if the rhinocerous was evil and undead, at least. Her cold flesh withers and shrivels around the sword's glowing blade, and with a spasm she slides herself back off of Karthos' point. Recently consumed blood starts leaking from the hole in her stomach, dribbling slowly down her front.

"Whoreson!" Her voice is filled with pure hatred. "Whoever thought to fix the fight by bringing you in is going to pay!" The vampire slides a fist into her belly wound in order to stop her dinner from fully escaping. "I think I'll start by presenting him with your corpses."

"Burr-Lipp!" From behind her, the frog-like gladiator croaks and springs in from a full twenty feet away. Its battle croak warns the cadaverous woman at the last second and she twists away, jumping back as the frog-thing's trident buries itself in the arena's gravel floor. The frog-thing wrenches it out again and backs away in a defensive position.

"Nice try," compliments Malachite, impressed. I'm surprised he didn't flee. Brave frog, that.

The frog has clearly done what it meant to do, and Galthia takes advantage of the distraction it offers. The monk spins backwards and runs across the length of the arena to buy himself some time. He can feel the fatigue and pain of her blow; every muscle hurts, his hand screams in an aria of exquisite pain, and his mind is muddled with the negative energy coursing through his body. He leans against the far wall and tries not to throw up. Above him, observers call down insults and throw bits of food at him, trying to encourage him to go back out and face her. He studiously ignores them as he tries to find his center of peace and stillness, blocking out the pain.

The female vampire swings a darting claw at Malachite and finds it smacked away by his armored forearm. Opting for the wounded prey instead, she gracefully tumbles away from Malachite and takes off after the injured monk. She almost stops for the easy meal of the cowering goblins, but Galthia's remaining life energy is like a siren song she can't ignore, especially with a burning sword wound in her belly. Scuttling twice as fast as a normal man, the vampire runs towards him, but she's not fast enough to actually reach him.

Malachite follows right behind her. He quickly realizes that he can't keep up with the vampire in a foot race, but he doesn't have to try. Instead he charges straight for her position, and uses his momentum to hammer his sword home in the small of her back. She manages to choke off the scream this time, but just barely. A keening rises from her lips, but it is lost under the roar of the crowd.

The gaunt vampire's eyes rise to an observation balcony twenty feet above her head, jutting slightly out from the stone wall of the arena. "Ellius!" the woman pleads in a voice verging on worry. "I think I could use some help!" A beautiful young blond woman leans forward, her face just visible as she peers down from the narrow window.

"No, Luccia," says the blond. "I think you should handle this yourself." Her contralto voice is rich with irony, and colored with both respect and hatred. Mostly hatred.

"I command you!" says Luccia, eyes flashing and voice stern. Ellius hesitates for a second before shaking her beautiful head, blond tresses swaying.

"No. I don't think so. Not this time." She pulls her head back, and Luccia spins towards Malachite, hissing with hatred and desperation.

"Fine with me," she says through gritted fangs. She springs towards him. Her claws plunge deep into his flesh multiple times, and she laughs as she feels the hot blood pooling around her fingers. Then she clenches her hands to pull out a piece of his soul, and her laughter quickly chokes off into silence. Her look is the very picture of confusion.

"No soul? What? How? Are you one of us...?"

Malachite grins, but there's no humor in it. "Sealed life. My soul is beyond your reach. But yours..." slash "...is not..." slash "beyond mine." slash

As Galthia staggers forward, Malachite finishes his attack, and just for a second Luccia stares at him. Then her head begins to topple off of the stump of her neck, and her severed left arm hits the ground. Malachite stands back and watches with satisfaction as her corpse explodes into powdery dust. And just as the other Defenders reach a viewing spot on the outer wall of the arena, the crowd goes wild.