The thick canvas of twisting skies yields to no blessing of the sun. Sing merrily, rain. Shine brightly, lightning. Roar proudly, thunder. They, in tandem, set well the mood of mayhem for this campaign between man and god.
Atop a great long wall of earth peaking beyond a mile high, a daring dance is enacted by an odd pair. One is a cloaked corpse in gray brandishing a pair of steel, one short and the other long. The other is a gargantuan stone serpent with the gift of flight, the ungodly strength to flatten towns and castles with ease. Rumor has it that it can toss constructs of wind and light as well, exacting obliteration.
The giant coils while hovering high and a tenth of a mile away from the rather jagged peak. It pulls its large sharp oval head of hard rock bathing in heavy rain. Keep its distance, perhaps ready a deathly strike. The blade-wielding gent who dared to challenge it is peculiar to the beast. His nerves lessen in their egregious writhing after a recent guzzling of a bitter potion from a vial. Hiss away the weariness built up from all the leaping and flailing he performed.
It has been more than half an hour since the first blow was struck. This man has either deflected or stayed clear of its earth-shattering strikes, even retort with just enough fury to chip away some of its thick stony hide. Wisdom applied by training and triumphant over treacherous trials of old is serving him well. This monster is no petty foe, that is certain. If he has been less prepared, less vigilant, less ferocious, such soiree of savagery they have been engaging would cease much sooner.
It is thrilling for the lofty leviathan that one would come so far and not make an early grave of himself on top of the mountain. The uneven floor and ledges are riddled with countless bones of those who perished from this behemoth; some even tossed away from the soil springing alive whenever the creature goes to attack him. They never stood a chance. Silver tongue and ineptitude in combat proved useless.
The thrill is shared by the challenger now waiting for the sky serpent to close the gap again between them. Behind the cloth-mask, the labored gray-garbed fellow hatches a smirk. The strain of staving off or evading the perilous pounces reshaping the earthen peak does gnaw on his vitality. The pain makes him take into account that further mistakes can be lethal. But it reminds him that he still lives. That there is a fight to finish.
Put away the short blade. Tease a nearing kiss on his right temple by his curled knuckles now holding his longer blade close. Aim its sharp point ahead towards the fortress of a foe. Whisper a language that is nonsense to the modern world but holds power in the old one. In seconds, slim ribbons of sharp air gleaming like glass gather upon the length of the blade. The rain-kissed steel is shining as bright as the lightning that greets them every now and then.
The serpent produces a deafening guttural rumbling from its ship bow of a big snout, joining with the savage symphony of endless rain, howling winds and crackling clouds. Its glowing blue eyes are piercing through the torrent. It anticipates something delightful or devastating from this cloaked one.
Enough pause has been warranted. The floating giant retracts its head a bit more. Soon, it quickly lunges towards the fellow like an oversized battering ram. The furrowed brow above the meadow-tinted pearls of he who is peering back into those serpent eyes tighten. Bring up the steel, soon guiding it in a downward chop before him when issuing a single forward stomp. Puff a split-second roar himself! The glowing light on the blade blinks away! Conjure swiftly a colossal bright-white arc following the path of that chop stretching forth and shy a fifth of a mile, more than enough to reach the approaching leviathan.
Bark a crisp thunderous thud to go with winds seeming to split in half upon the forehead and snout of the giant! That stretched arc of light came with as much traumatic punch as this creature whenever it brushes and grinds onto the earth with so much power to go with it. It wails in an ear-splitting song of agony while tossing its head away and slithering back into the heavens. More of its rock-like shell crumbles away, revealing its thick moss-like fur. Long glowing turquoise nerves are also revealed, throbbing slowly and repeatedly from bright to dim.
All of that melodrama just to keep bruising it while he is depleted more of his own resources. The cloaked corpse growls as he brings his sword close to him. Stiffen up the feet-parted posture. Take a few deep breaths. Ignore the discomfort binding him. The flying giant swirls around, an eye fixed upon the challenger. He is seen pacing to sprint closer to the edge of the mountain.
The great beast roars with the passion of hundreds of mad trumpets. It dives back to meet with the raggedy man again. The fellow shatters a bit of earth beneath his feet as he launches himself up and ahead. His fellow dancer of disaster longs for another kiss, much of the steel glowing again eager to be buried on its forehead.
Thunder claps! On the plains far below the towering wall, perhaps for miles around, the guttural song of the flying giant can be heard even with the ongoing concerto of the stormy sky still going strong. Did the man finally perish or is the colossus having much trouble with its guest? Muse with silence or bated breath, the denizens of the lower domains can only, many aware through that awesome aria that someone or something is clashing with a titan.
