The consternation on Jegojah's face was ultimately satisfying. No matter what happened to him after that moment, no matter how much joy or sorrow he may experience, one of his fondest memories would be the look on Jegojah's face when it stared up at him, stared at him with fear flowing through its glowing red eyes.
That brief moment of peace was shattered when Tarrin roared mightily at the Doomwalker, ears going back and staff coming up, showing the Doomwalker formidable, long fangs and a great deal of furious attitude. Tarrin's control wavered at that instant, the moment he had been anticipating for a month and more. He gave into his fury, surrendered to his consuming hatred for and need to destroy the Doomwalker, destroy it once and for all. With a lunge that took the Doomwalker completely by surprise, Tarrin seemed to flow forward in a way that looked impossible, as if his feet never touched the ground. It looked as if he slid across the sand of the arena floor, floating above the ground as he closed that ten span gap in the blink of an eye, and struck the Doomwalker squarely in the hastily upraised shield. The power of the blow knocked the Doomwalker off its feet, sending it sailing to the side, to land on the ground in a crumpled heap.
The chiming clang of that first blow rang from the walls of the arena floor, like a bell tolling doom, and it still reverberated through the sandy arena as the Doomwalker rolled quickly to its feet and squared off against him. The creature's shield had a formidable dent in its upper outside edge, testament to the raw power behind the Were-cat's blow.
Jegojah cackled. "Come on then," it said in a swaggering tone, inviting Tarrin in with the tip of its sword.
The first blows were not the careful measured strikes of warriors feeling one another out. Tarrin assaulted the Doomwalker in a fury of powerful blows, battering the smaller opponent around like a practice dummy. It looked as if Jegojah was getting pounded, but the Doomwalker always caught the staff blows on its shield or against the heavier sections of its armor. It did not try to fight back, it merely settled in and allowed the Were-cat to beat on it, letting Tarrin vent this initial explosion of angry offense. Tarrin knew that his staff could do the Doomwalker no permanent injury, and that was a part of his initial plan. His objective was not to do in the Doomwalker, his objective was to smash up its armor and render its shield useless. A solid blow in a joint would cause the metal to interfere with Jegojah's ability to move, and that would translate to an advantage. Tarrin looked like he was in the throes of utter rage, but he was actually very calm and calculating in his assault. Heavy blow after heavy blow slammed into the Doomwalker, knocking it to and fro, but it did little more than absorb the punishment.
At least until a savage overhanded blow came in behind a badly presented shield and caved in the left shoulder of its armor, pressing the metal against its dessicated body. Jegojah struck back instantaneously after that, seeming to comprehend exactly what the Were-cat was doing, his sword thrusting out and seeking the Were-cat's belly. Tarrin twisted to the side and withdrew his staff, taking a step back and surveying his work. The Doomwalker's shield was badly beaten up, and he'd put that heavy notch in the left shoulder of the breastplate. Not much damage, but that dented shoulder would keep the Doomwalker from raising its shield to protect from high-angled attacks. That was something to remember.
Tarrin waded back in immediately, but was more careful now. Jegojah's sword had started doing more than parrying, using those same light, shallow slashing movements that were so effective, seeking out Tarrin's paws on his staff as they traded blows. It would defend against the staff and seek to take off a finger or two as Tarrin pulled away. Tarrin irritated the Doomwalker by shifting to the end-grip, wielding the staff like a spear and imposing five spans of wood between the Doomwalker's sword and his paws. But that attempt at irritation nearly cost him his left arm. Jegojah snapped forward in a dizzyingly fast rush, sword working him at angles that were now awkward because of the Doomwalker's proximity and the length of his own weapon. It was inside his weapon's arc, and it eliminated his ability to defend with his staff. It slapped his staff out wide to his right with the face of its shield, using it as a weapon instead of a defensive barrier, and then slashed in heavily with its sword, going for the elbow of his left arm. Were it not for the manacles on his wrists, he would have lost his left arm at the elbow, quickly letting go of his staff with that paw and using the metal cuff as a shield, blocking the Doomwalker's sword. He cocked his arm back and punched Jegojah dead in the face with his left paw after sending the sword wide, a move so fast that the Doomwalker didn't register it until it was staggering back from the impact.
Damned clever! Tarrin's irritation bloomed into anger when he realized that Jegojah baited him into shifting into the end-grip, just to do exactly what it did. Were it not for Tarrin's superior speed and reflexes, he would have lost his left arm.
He recovered himself, collected back into a guard stance as the Doomwalker leered at him, slapping its sword against its shield in an insulting manner. That served to unhinge Tarrin's control, which was probably what the Doomwalker was trying to do in the first place. With an infuriated roar, the Cat rising up inside him and threatening to take control, Tarrin closed the distance with the Doomwalker and tried to smash it into the ground. The Doomwalker sidestepped the blow easily, and flicked its sword at the recovering Were-cat's head. Tarrin flinched away, but not before a blazing line of pain drew across his left cheek, and warm blood began flowing down the side of his face.
The intense, angry burning of that purely cosmetic injury immediately caught his attention. It was some kind of magical attack! The pain of the minor cut was almost blinding, as if he had had the entire side of his head torn off. Blood flowed profusely down the side of his face and neck, much too much blood for such a small cut. The sense of that magic became apparent to him, a latent magical effect passed on by the sword, a magic designed to amplify pain the sword inflicted, and also attacked the body in such a way that prevented his body from stopping the bleeding. The sword was evil, it was designed to either cause such flinching at the pain it inflicted that it gave the wielder an easy kill, or make the victim bleed to death after the battle, should he get away. A single scratch from that sword would be fatal to a human being.
Tarrin backed off a few steps, joining with the Weave to come to an understanding of the magic attacking him. He picked out its function quickly, then wove together a proper counterspell to neutralize its effects. The pain quickly faded, and the blood pouring out of his face reduced to a natural rate of flow.
Jegojah cackled, waggling the tip of the sword in Tarrin's face. It had let him back off, let him experience the magical bite of its sword, to make the Were-cat fear getting cut by the blade again. The Doomwalker didn't seem to notice that the blood coming out of Tarrin's face was much less now, because the entire left side of his face and neck were covered in blood, and much of his torso had lines of blood all over it.
The Doomwalker was trying to bait him into flying into a rage! He realized that now, understood that the Cat's disregard for what would be minor cuts and nicks would kill it, as the magical sword would literally bleed him to death while he sought to tear the Doomwalker to pieces. It was a weapon well suited to taking advantage of Tarrin's weakness, and that weakness was his temper.
Damned clever. Tarrin had to respect that, respect Jegojah's creative resourcefulness. It had found the one weapon that could have easily killed Tarrin, a weapon that, when coupled with Tarrin's rage, would have literally nicked him to death, and the Cat would not have realized its mistake until it was too late. But Tarrin wasn't the same as he had been. He still suffered from rages, but he was more controlled now, more able to deflect that blind fury, and it was absolutely vital that he keep control now. He couldn't allow the Cat to rush in and get them both killed.