The young mage apprentice seemed to lighten up as he finally achieved to deliver a blow to his opponent. It hadn't been an easy task, seeing besides his class, the Human was quite agile as well, dealing to a powerful combination. He remained there stopped and seeing the cloaked man's struggle with the vines and its rather pointy spines. They might've been small, but they were quite thin and dangerous, piercing a Human's skin preety easily... probably the only kind able to withstand such a thing would be the Goronic race. Still, he was preety content on his achieval. He did not proceed his attacking, as he wanted to know if Jett finally desired to give up. He, himself knew not how to withstand such a blow if it came his way, and the boy couldn't even imagine the pain he should be going through now. Still, the desired speech did not come from the mystery man's mouth, and so the boy didn't remove the vines who continued their growth.

Thinking he'd finally won, the boy was about to have a not very nice surprise as the elder mage prepared another of his trickery. The vines around him started to loosen up and harden, besides starting to gain a redder tone, one unexpected as the boy did not order such a thing. Huh? - was all the Hylian had time to think before... well... before it happened. The vines constricting Jett gave in and caught fire. Not able to withstand such a pressure, the Nature element finally broke itself into hundreds of pieces and went flying, many in the teenager's direction, others to the different foliage around them, who started to burn as well. The boy's instant reaction was to throw himself to the right, to fall on the grass and to gain cover from the projectiles. Quite some were able to scratch his back, arms, legs and face, and let's just say that the pain wasn't very light. The boy's skin seemed to be on fire, beside the great pain on each of the cuts. Still, this was only the beginning. What was coming next was far worse.

"ACK!" - Tayro yelped in pain. His hands went immediatly to his left leg as he landed on the grass, immune to the other flying 'weapons'. His hands were there able to find an intruder to the normality - one of the vines hand in fact collided with the teenager's leg, and infiltrated the skin to the interior of his body. The pain was undescribable. As an instinct, the boy immediatly closed his eyes and sat down, his muscles contracting at an indescribable rythm, and it seemed like the world was about to explode. This...can't...be! I... must not... give up! - he managed to think between yelps of pain. This was one of those momets in which the boy wonders why he hadn't learned healing spells earlier, though now was too late to do such a thing. Still, with a great amount of courage and perhaps madness to the mix, the boy got up, his leg completely limp and refusing to obey. Still he managed to support it on the ground whilst his other leg did most of the effort to remain in that position.

Even in that moment of pain, the Hylian didn't stop his usual scheme of thoughts, and did not fail to notice Jett Ericson's amusement. Was this some sort of test to his abilities? Or was the Human just toying around with him. Still, this was something the boy could not accept, to let a person use only part of their skill just because they think he's weaker than them. If he was weaker than the other, fine, that would be shown in the result - he held no hard feelings about that... but just messing with him was unfair, at least in his point of view. "Stop it. If you don't want to fight, you don't have to, but don't come after me without using all of your potential! Why are you holding back? I refuse to fight with you if you continue with this! Is it because I'm younger? Is it?!" - he managed to yell at his opponent between all the pain that seemed to blind him - "It's true my skill isn't anything compared to most people, but that doesn't mean I can't fight properly! It's those people who I look up to, and that's why I train - to best them! And I SHALL best you too!!"

Even if the boy was unable to move his leg and the pain was something that wasn't easy to forget about, so to say, he still had the strength to attack... yet he knew not for how much longer. If the Human continued with such a behaviour, it would also be his last one in this fight. His staff still firmly on his hand, the boy used it to draw the usual circlic pattern on the air, who lit up with a blue colour. Inside, he drew as well the usual pentagram, who glowed with a shining yellow colour, and the boy placed his staff firmly on the center. "Elemental Burst! Earth!" - he yelled, and from the tip of his staff a yellowish ball started to create itself, and starting to enlarge in a matter of moments. Quickly enough, it was thrusted towards te floor once again. Few seconds after, a the ground started shaking. It's coming... - were the Hylian's thoughts, as suddenly a fissure started opening in front of him, and starting to make way towards his opponent.

Jett was always one to notice the more exciting aspects of nature, but as the rapidly approaching trench grew larger he scarcely had a chance to accept not only the excellence in its stunning appearance, but also in its master's precise abilities to conjure something so remarkable. Now, Jett was not one to leave his mind blank at any time, and since neither of those two thoughts were in circulation at that point, the closest brain surge was a quick commandment of "Jump!"

The thorny embrace of Tayro's previous technique had left the mage sapped of most traces of physical energy. As the youth had been thinking, it was only correct that a Goron should be able to fend off the damages of such an attack, and with good reason. Jett gasped as he felt his left foot slip into the gaping hole that had emerged before him, and he felt gravity's merciless force pulling the rest of his body down with it. It was by sheer luck that he was able to grab a misshapen ledge that had formed as a result of the fissure, and pull himself to safety.

Jett wasted no time upon returning to ground level, rolling onto his back and kicking his feet into the air, effectively bringing him to an upright stance. The hooded stranger shook his head in fatigue, but continued his advance. He retrieved his staff from the wrecked earth before it was lost forever beneath the quake, and held it slightly above his head. "This," he said quietly, almost so that Tayro could not hear him, "has gone on long enough."

Exerting himself fully, Jett focused most of - but not all, as that would be a risky little game - his magical energy into a pebble sized fleck of light. It was nearly invisible in the bright radiance of the sun, but its shimmering prowess stood out nonetheless. However, such a small speck of magic could do little against the obviously powerful Tayro Wind, right? If only that were the case.

The centimetre thick dot zipped through the air at the speed of, well, light, and hovered an inch from Tayro's chest. Several more of the bright orbs appeared as though they were conceived by the first, and from these spawned thousands more. In only a matter of seconds, close to four thousand small white specks were surrounding the boy. In unison, the combined force of light began to hum wildly, until...

All at once, the entire area flashed the purest of white, and nothing could be seen. Even Jett, although having caused such an event, stumbled around a little as the light dispersed in all directions. Jett knew that such a colossal shock would have rendered Tayro completely motionless, and that he had therefor been the victor of this battle. He approached the youth, arm outstretched to shake his hand openly. But as the light finally gave way to the daytime sky...

A bead of sweat trickled down Jett's temple. Standing behind Tayro was a fierce, war-painted boar. Atop of the creature sat a hefty Moblin. The faded blue-teal hide gave away a very important trait to this Moblin. All around the woodland, several more of the strange breed of Moblins appeared. The leader, sitting "gallantly" atop his steed, poked a long, jagged sword into the young scholar's back, prodding him forward and knocking him to the ground.

Jett could have sworn he had seen these Moblins someplace before. For the man in the bushes, at least, they should have been familiar. Each of the threescore Moblins wore a thick boar-hide belt, on which rested a grimy flute for each of them. Yes, these foul creatures should have struck a tone with a certain Sheikah's memories, even if only slightly. Painted on the leader Moblin's bare chest was the image of a club and a sword intersecting.

Speaking in a gruff and outlandish tongue, the boar-back rider pointed his sword at Tayro, and growled menacingly at Jett. "This is Tayro Wind, yes?" barked the hideous, filthy beast, spitting yellowed drops of saliva at the cloaked human challenger with each word. Repulsed - although amazed by the somewhat intelligent dialect - Jett took a step back and nodded. "Aye, this is Tayro Wind. What do you care for, Moblin?" spoke the mage, his voice filled with contempt.

A wily grin appeared on the Moblin's face. "They want young boy dead. We travel great distance to break him." The tremendous painted hog sucked back a great quantity of spit and hurled it from his mouth, showing even fouler contempt for the puny cloaked man below him. "Out of our way, human.

Still in sight of the main clearing, one of the Moblins returned from hunting wit ha dead hawk clutched by the neck. He carried on his face an excessively content expression, but his joy was lost as he tripped over the only spectator still hidden. Fortunately for Alpha, the tremendously fat monster did not crush his arms as he fell. Of course, being the large, stupid Moblin that he was, he began to make a loud fuss over the collision. Every Moblin present, and Jet as well, looked towards the idiotic hog and the relaxed Sheikah.

Beside the Moblin, yet another cloaked figure materialized. With his hood down, Jett recognized him to be Solstrem Maverick, which was relieving, but alarming as well. He knew that something awful was about to happen. Without saying a word, and without doing more than lifting his arm, the great one sent a ripping bolt of fire straight into the Moblin's wide, surprised mouth. Pushing away the charred carcass, Maverick knelt down beside his newest recruit and smiled warmly. "Be a friend and help us remove these fellows, would you, Alpha?"

Alpha can only sit back and grin as Tayro's determination makes itself evident in his words. The boy is certainly something else . . . 'Just you wait, Tayro,' the Sheikah mage thinks to himself. 'I'm certain that someday you'll be just as powerful as . . . well, not as myself, but as powerful as, if not moreso than, the majority of mages in the world.' His grin widens. 'Though you're fooling yourself if you think you can best me.'

And his positive beliefs in the young Hylian are proven quite well as the boy's Earth elemental strike tears apart the ground. With the injuries sustained from the Nature Elemental Burst from just moments before, even Jett is unable to get out of the way. And yet it seems that Tayro's opponent is not done yet, as he is able to pull himself out of the fissure. Eyelids arching upward, a small spark of light catches his gaze as it forms before Jett - well, this is interesting. The Sheikah hasn't seen someone use an attack in this manner before . . .

. . . and in the end, he isn't able to watch the result. Eyes darting all over the place, his senses pick up new presences closing in on the area - and then the light flashes all over the place, practically blinding him. He remains down, allowing his senses to keep track of the newcomers while his eyes cannot. And he does not like their positioning one bit. And then the light fades, causing him to nearly utter his thoughts of 'Din's Fire!' aloud.

Moblins. With flutes, nonetheless. Any who knew of the Sheikah's past would understand his sharp inhalation of breath, the forming of his fists, and the tenseness of his muscles as a dark glare comes into his eyes. But he remains down, not attracting any attention to himself until the time is right . . . which comes about the time the extra Moblin walks straight towards him. He feels him coming on a straight line, so he sees no need to try and move out of the way, instead grabbing the Moblin's leg and nearly ripping it out of its socket as he forces him into the dirt. With a satisfied grin on his face.

And then Maverick appears out of nowhere, betraying a seriousness that Alpha had not realized would be present today to have come. This couldn't be good . . . but his words do nothing but satisfy the Sheikah's desire as he leaps to his feet, landing in the middle of the gathering of Moblins and Mages. "It would be my greatest pleasure, Maverick. Oh, and hey Jett, good to hear you're back on your feet again. Anyways . . .

"Elemental Explosion!" He focuses even further before allowing the shining ball of magic to erupt outward in a blast even more intense than Jett's latest attack - and much more lethal to the beings he has targeted (as well as the flutes that they carry). "Light!"

OOC: Normally I wouldn't have played along with someone stating that my NPCs pale in comparison to their own character, but I think that it is indeed true in Alpha's case

IC:

Maverick stood by and watched as Alpha unleashed his deadly explosion, fully impressed by the Sheikah's display of lights. The distinguished scholar raised a hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the devastating light shock, but as the brilliant white flash obscured all sights, he shook his head doubtfully. Just under a year ago, one of his hooded allies reported that Alpha successfully vanquished several of these same Moblins. At the time, the name Alpha meant nothing to him, but others involved in the fiasco made things interesting.

Slaughtering a Mid-Dao Moblin was an easy task. The brutes were nothing more than a mismatched clan from West of Hyrule. There was a time when they were feared, but those days were long over. It wasn't until only a year ago that mention of the tattooed teal hogs began to recirculate. According to all known sources, the tribe had been finished off nearly a decade earlier. The Stock Pot Inn incident was what originally alerted Maverick and the others to their presence.

Today the alert came full circle. As the light faded, and not a single Moblin had been harmed, Maverick confirmed that something was amiss. A powerful mage like Alpha should have had no difficulty laying ruin to the threescore Moblins, and yet there stood the mangy legion, most giggling to each other over how "weak" the Sheikah's magic was. It was apparent that it was not such an easy task, after all.

Jett gripped his staff tightly in both hands, and whirled around at a trio of hefty Moblins approaching Tayro with an assortment of tattered ropes. Just as the thick oak tip collided with the face of the nearest enemy, a wretched hand shot out and grabbed the weapon, pulling it easily from the mage's hands. The Moblin that had been "unfortunate" enough to take the blow took hold of the staff and with a malicious grin, splintered the majestic rod. It tossed the fractured remains at the owner, causing Jett to stumble back. To make the situation even more insulting, directly following was a putrid gob of spit, which disappeared into Jett's hood.

Straightening himself and trying to remain calm, the scholar pulled down the hood and wiped the offensive discharge from his eye. He gave the Moblins a contemptuous glare before sidestepping another blow and grabbing Tayro by the arm. He looked into the boy's eyes and smiled warily, before disappearing altogether, taking young Tayro Wind with him.

From the more secluded, forested area of the clearing, Maverick shook his head sympathetically. He placed his hand on Alpha's shoulder and spoke softly to the newest Apostle. "There is indeed something very evil at work here, Varaudo. We must return to the city at once." With that, Maverick disappeared altogether, leaving behind the barbaric Moblins and the Sheikah.

The chief of the hideous legion said nothing. Whipping on the reigns that were tethered to his steed's teeth, the ferocious Moblin led his sixty warriors north, away from the Woods. Making quick distance, all that remained was a bland echo of flutes playing out a high-pitched marching theme.

OOC: And yes, this will continue in a new topic. Which you'll both be PMed about later