The moment the gong is struck Orth Maul looses 2 Arrows from rapid shot.
The 1st is a Phenromone Arrow
As the 1st arrow strikes the Devil is releasing strong aromas that most predators recognize as tasty injured prey. Orth Maul eyes fixate on the devil and he smiles as he looses a 2nd common Arrow .
There was a moment of stunned silence in the room as the now headless devil corpse wavered briefly, then fell to the ground, its dark blood spurting out in ever weaker gushes.
As one, the entire Order stood up, rigidly at attention.
In the entire history of the Hellknights, only seven people had ever flawlessly defeated their devil. Their names were burned into the mind of every Armiger, as a model to follow and an example to aspire to.
"ARMIGER CALE! ORDER OF THE GODCLAW! PERFECTED HIS DISCIPLINE WITH A DIVINE PRAYER!"
Cale had been a half-elven cleric of the Godclaw and one of the first in that order. He had torn his devil apart with two claws that seemed to be made of light itself.
"ARMIGER JACK! ORDER OF THE NAIL! PERFECTED HIS DISCIPLINE WITH AN ARCANE SPELL!"
Jack was an impressively powerful arcanist, his family being able to trace their arcane lineage all the way back to their Azlanti roots. He was often said to be magic incarnate, and proved it when he completely disintegrated his devil with a single spell.
"ARMIGER ZACHARIAH! ORDER OF THE NAIL! PERFECTED HIS DISCIPLINE WITH A DIVINE PRAYER!"
Zachariah was a mysterious oread, who had caused the earth to reach up and grind his devil into nothingness.
"ARMIGER SARAH! ORDER OF THE NAIL! PERFECTED HER DISCIPLINE WITH AN ARCANE SPELL!"
Sarah had been an obscenely powerful winter witch, driven from her home in the north for unknown reasons. She had frozen her devil solid, and then shattered it to pieces with a simple snap of her fingers, this action earning her the nickname Shiva.
"ARMIGER VILKAS! ORDER OF THE PYRE! PERFECTED HIS DISCIPLINE WITH A DIVINE PRAYER!"
Vilkas had been a sadistic interrogator and a less than subtle worshiper of Zon-Kuthon. His fight had left his devil torn open to the bone. It is a note of irony that he had been in the Order of the Pyre, as he was later burned at the stake by family members of the many shamans and druids he had captured.
"ARMIGER MALACHI! ORDER OF THE SCOURGE! PERFECTED HIS DISCIPLINE WITH A MIGHTY BLADE!"
Malachi was the currently rather famous and extremely temperamental paladin of Ragathiel. Said by many to be almost entirely unstoppable once he decided that a target was guilty, he is also the only Hellknight to have flawlessly defeated his devil with no magic whatsoever.
The Hellknights voices rang with a noticeable amount of pride as they shouted this name. Giordano, who is now the current Vicarius of the Order of the Gate, defeated his devil with nothing more than an inaudible whisper and a wave of his hand. The wards around the Pit were overloaded, and the flash from the blast blinded everyone in the room. When the onlooking Hellknights has finally been able to look again, the Pit was conspicuously empty, with the new Hellknight sitting in the victors row, as if nothing untoward had happened. None watching had been able to discern how he had done it, or even discover if it had been an arcane or divine power.
The entire room took a breath as one, and as one shouted.
The room exploded into cheers, the Hellknights chanting Kayle's name until long after she had taken her seat.
It is futile though, the talons skittering uselessly off of your armor.
The devil strikes you as you backpedal to cast your spell. For a brief moment the devils eyes lose focus on your, glazing over, but then it shakes itself out of it and charges again, irritated.
Perhaps though the spell still offered some protection, as the charge is clumsy and slow, allowing you to dodge it.
The blade sinks into you, then rips back out again, your wound bleeding heavily.
Might Giles connects!
Vesuvius snarles at the devil, taking one last bite to avenge his master!
But he misses terribly, the falling of his master distracting him too much for a decent attack!
Embry's eyes roll into the back of his head as his blood seeps onto the ground, and he passes out.
!
The devil runs up to you, heedless of its wounds, and attacks, but its strike is weak.
While the dinosaur is distracted, the other devil joins in.
The devil turns at the unfortunate sound and grins evilly. It readies its glaive and charges again.
You deftly sidestep the charge, hoping against hope that your luck continues to hold.
Once again the devil just barely dodges the blade, the weapon scraping loudly against its armor.
Again the devil tries to rend you, and again its efforts prove useless.
orth maul takes a 5 foot step back and fires 2 more arrow at point blank range with rapid shot.
Sectty realizes the creature is pretty useless with only its claws, and recognizes he's at least a bit lucky for having knocked the monster's glaive aside, although it would usually drop it anyway. He keeps the attacking, but the swings are not in their best performance.
!
With a flick of his wrist, he casts an arcane spell. "Stand still, fiend. So that Giles may finish you, I've no time for your kind."
Giles takes a 5 foot step to flank the creature. He then attacks again.
Elijah, spins, feeling the blade get near his shoulder but parries out if the way. He takes a quick moment to clear his gun of the chamber, swearing it better not happen again.
He steps back 5 feet, imagines another silver billet in the chamber as he does so. He takes aim and fires another billet.
Vesuvius takes another bite at the main demon. Embry takes 2 more bleed damage and makes a Fort save to keep from taking one more:
The devil allows you to strike it, but as you attempt to return to guard, the devil smashes your wrist, causing the hand to go numb and the fiend to easily wrench it from your grasp. With a smirk it now wields your weapon against you.
The blade finds your flesh and you cringe as it gouges into you, blood swiftly pouring from the wound.
The devils surround the dinosaur, harrying it with their superior reach.
Vesuvius is fighting like never before, moving quicker than anyone would have thought a creature like that possibly could. But he is outnumbered and out armed, the devils finally managing to land a killing blow on the creature. It moans mournfully, still snapping at its vanquishers as blood and breath leave its body. The devils sigh in relief and drag the two corpses into Hell with them, leaving thick trails of blood in the dust of the Pit.
The arrow pierces the devil through the eye, poking through the back of its skull. It screams in agony, an ear shattering bellow of pain. Somehow though, it stays on its feet, discipline forged in Hell not allowing it to give up until death itself claims it.
Sectty smirks back, showing a smile that almost reach his ears. "Niiiice move!" He draws another Greatsword from his back, but this one seems nothing like the other one. It's a finely made blade, with no dents or scratches whatsoever, and its metal seems to reflect a blue radiance, instead of the usual silvery reflection of common steel. It makes up an awkward scene, both creatures wielding the same weapon, but still completely different. "Let's see how good you are with that one!"
And the fighter gives no space to the creature, swinging his masterwork weapon at the devils left side, confident is the weapon's ability to cut through every defense it may have!
!
Maeve had been watching, both dreading and anticipating her turn. Today had been an interesting day, a flawless victory and the death of an initiate.
She hadn't known Vesuvius very well, only having recently met him in one of her classes. The path of a Hellknight was not an easy path to follow, and she hoped that she could only learn from his mistakes.
Having witnessed the wards on the arena, Maeve grumbles about the handicap it represents to those like her that rely heavily on their spell casting ability. She considers methods of working around the dispelling effect.
With bow drawn and an arrow knocked, she steps down into the arena and immediately begins to cast gravity bow.
Once a devil appears, she will move out of range and then strike with the bow.
Your Will to fight is most impressive, have earned my respect devil. NOW DIE!
Orth Maul fires a 3rd round of arrows from rapid shot at point blank range into the beast chest.
The devil reels back briefly from the blow, still trying to get the less than familiar weapon into guard. Finally though it is settled and the fiend strikes at you with a cross cutting slash.
!
!
Elijah nimbly avoids the first slash of the blade but is caught in the ribs with the second. He winces in pain, not wanting to show any fear, but the wound seems to ungulate with a foul stench, not unlike brimstone.
Instead of tending to his wound, he presses on. He hopes to get the devil of his guard. He steps back 10 feet, visualizes another silver billet in the chamber. He takes aim and fires again.
You rack your brain, but nothing in particular comes to mind. Given the strength and number of the spells surrounding the Pit, it would take a much more powerful wizard than you some time to begin unraveling the wardings.
You recognize the devil as a bearded devil, or more technically known as a Barbazu. Barbazus are fond of making charge attacks with their glaives, and try to maintain a 10-foot gap between themselves and their foes so they can use their signature polearms to great effect. Against a foe that has greater reach (or one able to otherwise avoid the devil’s favored tactic), they drop their glaives and resort to their claws and hideous beards.
Your arrow flies true and pierces the devils hide. It looks down at the projectile and snorts in derision, ripping it out without flinching and then charging towards you.
The glaive slashes into you, blood pouring from the wound. The devil inhales, breathing in the coppery scent of your blood.
Scream for me little aasimar. I can smell your fallen ancestor in your blood. Think you that you should fare better? the devil gloats into your mind.
Maeve drops the bow and draws her scimitar as she steps forward, closing in on the devil. She swings the scimitar in an arc from waist to shoulder, unfortunately her swing slides along the shaft of the glaive.
The orc stretches his long arms out, sinewy muscles bulging and straining. Two arrows fly, thudding straight through the devils heart. It gives a final, feral growl, and slumps to the ground, finally dead.
And with that, a first had happened. Never before had an orc ever become a Hellknight. Only a very very few half-orcs had ever even managed it. All those who had naysayed the Vicarius (and there were many, even if they were very, very quiet), now sat back in astonishment. That a primitive, barbaric orc had gained the rank that most men could only dream about. It bore consideration.
A cleric comes over, healing Orth and guiding him over to sit with the rest of the victors. Though his face was invisible, all could see that the Vicarius tracked the orcs progress intensely. Finally he nodded and turned his mask back to the Pit.