Kisaik had seen the wound on the woman that they let into Chest.
While suspicious at the nature of the wound - he'd never seen light pouring out of a wound before - he knew a dog bite could be serious. Perhaps beyond his ability to treat just with his raw skill and the things he had at hand to help with it. He did however have trinkets that might help...
"Winston, I'm a bit of a healer myself, although I wouldn't call myself an expert" Kisaik confided in the ferret. "A dog bite is bad, and needs to be treated straight away. We can't wait for arriving at the gates."
So saying, Kisaik reached into his domain bag and retrieved the
Dragon Tear
he'd gotten from Vindecaldra. It couldn't be used to heal Kisaik himself, for whatever reason, but it was useful for healing others. He held the gem, which reflected the light of the wound that was emitting from the woman.
"I'd like to help?" He asked her, and then held the gem over the wound, channelling the healing energy into that injury. Soon enough, the light subsided, and Kisaik's eyes widened at the spectacle. But he didn't pry or say anything about it. Perhaps it was a mutation, or the woman was a mage, or otherwise corrupted by fractive influences. It could've been any number of things none of which were any of Kisaik's business.
Still, if they were to be harboring this woman, they might want to know if she was dangerous.
At any rate, the gem closed the wound, and Kisaik instructed her that she should acquire some healing salve to apply to the skin and try to keep it clean. "Angela, help her keep it clean, will you? I must prepare for battle."
At the Gates
Winston gave his rousing announcement of the fight to the people gathered at the gates, hoping to see a good fight. Kisaik had to wince when Winston had the brass to dictate the terms of the fight. Kisaik would've preferred to the Death, because he didn't wish to suffer a slaver to live. He wasn't sure either how the Darstrion would perceive this usurpation of her authority.
Kisaik hopped down from the dragonling, and approached the two, waving back at Winston and Chest as he went toward them. He had on his armor, which included a full metal shield, and will o wit strapped to his back. He had other weapons he could call at need, of course, but sometimes a little misdirection wouldn't go amiss in a duel.
"Hello Lady Darstrion! And you." Kisaik was cordial toward the Darstrion, and not so much toward his opponent, who he didn't consider a proper person.
The Darstrion looked flustered, but maintained a sense of decorum in the midst of it all. "This is a duel to the first blood. Use whatever means are available to you to draw from your opponent."
"A clean fight?" The Darstrion asked, looking up at Winston with a glare. "No, use whatever means you must to draw blood. And you must surrender the woman and child this ithecal was pursuing and the dragonling to this man should you lose the duel." She said, not respecting any loopholes the Ferret was trying to wind them up in.
That said, the duelists all squared away, and an area for them to fight within was cleared. A good diameter of about thirty yards around, more than enough room for Kisiak to work with.
The Duel
Kisaik had a bag of tricks he could use to bring this Ithecal to heel, but was a bit worried, not quite knowing what he was dealing with. Slavers could be tricky combatants, with all manner of things to make another bleed.
The ithecal for his part bore a one-handed spear, and a few nets strung up at his hip, on his belt. There were other assortments of traps and gadgets on his kit, but Kisaik was more concerned with the brigandine armor he was wearing. He'd have to resort to aiming for the gaps in his armor if he wanted to make the creature bleed.
Anyway, he only had a few moments to ponder this before the Ithecal was moving on him.
The net came first, casting over Kisaik,
which he side stepped with a bit of effort, letting his legs extend a bit to make up the speed. His ephemeral blade hummed to life, its green glow illuminating the area around them.
The Ithecal snarled and kept his eyes on that glowing blade as he went to retrieve the net, and Kisaik did some tumbling out of the way to allow him to do it.
The Darstrion's eyes were keen upon the fight, waiting to see if any blood was dropped by either.
Next, the Ithecal placed the net back on his belt, and as he did so he scattered some caltrops on the ground all around Kisaik.
The spikes of the caltrops were sharp, and could've easily pierced his bark had he not blocked several of the projectiles with his shield, and then more or less danced out of the way, avoiding stepping or grazing against any as he moved out of the area where they were scattering.
The Ithecal by this time was losing patience. He threw his net, one after the other, this time the net caught Kisaik full, pinning him to the ground with its metallic wiring and chains.
For a moment it looked like Kisaik was a sitting duck, as the Ithecal took his one-handed spear and thrust it at Kisaik. However,
the confines of the net melted away or seemed to, and Kisaik found himself free of it.
With a wave of his blade, he opened a portal which popped up over the Ithecal.
The blade came down on the netting, perhaps harder than the ithecal was meaning to and dug into the ground, sticking there for a few moments.
Kisaik meanwhile skystepped across the air until he flipped with his sword, and drove it down into the gaps of the Ithecal's neck. A gout of reptilian blood began pouring out of the reptile's neck, clearly visible to all present.
The Darstrion declared an end to the fight. "The Tunawa wins!"
The ithecal was clutching at the wound, which was pouring blood now, and threatened to kill him even perhaps. But Kisaik was nothing if not merciful, and used his ivy bracelet to heal the wound, perched on the ithecal's shoulder he grazed the wound with the bracelet, willing it to heal the ruptured blood vessel.
After the Duel
After the Ithecal had gathered himself, and his coterie of slavers, he stood defiant against the Tunawa. "You'll regret going against us. Enjoy your stay in Yaralon. I'm sure it'll be nothing but interesting, for you."
So saying, the ithecal left, into the gates of Yaralon.
The guards at the gate offered to mark Winston, as Kisaik already had the silver circle on his shoulder. Whether he accepted the mark, Kisaik would pay the tax to let an unmarked into the city, on Winston's behalf. If he didn't want to accept the mark.
"Well, Winston, that was a bit of an entrance wasn't it?" Kisaik said to his friend, after he blinked back into the saddle of Aquarius. "Let's hope it's an interesting time. I wouldn't have it any other way..."
