The events unfolding occurred at such a rate even the potent brain capacity of Tharr was nearly overwhelmed. Not having sight was hardly the issue, but rather being fairly evenly matched. Not many opponents were as cunning as he, and this heightened his heart beat. The rush of combat was beginning to stir within the hybrid, and if continued would eventually lead to some unforeseen troubles for the swordsman. Though this was far from still happening. What did begin to simmer was that ever so convenient reservoir of bottomless energy so gracefully given by that hellish mage. Beneath his sealed eyelids, the familiar purple glow continued to flash numerous times throughout the next few moments. One paying attention to such minute details would see a whopping count of ten. It was as if the essence powering this ability was like a balloon of sorts and an ever so slight puncture hole had caused some leaking. Perhaps wielding these destructive tools had something to do with it too.
[Pride Stack +10]
It all happened in the span of a few seconds, but once things came to a standstill, the scorching tip of Rhay was mere inches from effortlessly breaking through his hide. Even now his mane of scarf-like pelage was slowly igniting. Halting its path was yet another of Tharr’s armaments; this time the Claws of Conceit. These bladed gauntlets serve in much the same capacity as his normal claws, only these were a foot in length and empowered by energy. Fashioned in both paws, this once again depleted his reserves as 5 had been designated for each. These are what held the holy weapon in place somewhat and prevented serious harm to the creature. A bit more fortified than the constructs before it, they only suffered moderate damage.
So how did they end up like this? Tharraleos had grown aware his polearm didn't strike the intended target. As his foe’s wings seeked to rid him of his more favored weapon, he allowed just that and instinctively relinquished his grasp on it. Violent particles of energy filled the air as it essentially disintegrated once it left his possession. Pushing himself off the doomed weapon, Tharr used the momentum to shift his stance to be more raised and equally grounded but still crouched lower than his opponent. All the while his mits retreated to his midsection, the clawed gauntlets ejecting from the tips of his digits and pressed against the sides of the heated blade with enough force to cease its movement. This proved to once again only provide temporary protection as this became a clash of brute strength. The Griff pushed back, but despite his best efforts, Raelis would still be able to inch his weapon closer and closer to its target.
Even at this disadvantaged state, his beak had hardly discarded the smug grin. More perspiration began to form around his mostly furred frame and his senses were beginning to be affected by the overbearing and unrelenting temperatures. Any more time spent like this would prove hazardous and needed to soon be alleviated. Stretching his maw agape, Tharraleos inhaled deeply, storing as much air in his lungs as possible. What could only be described as the current of a fireman's hose ejected from the rostrum of the warrior. Raelis would find himself on the receiving end of 200 pounds per square inch of water at point blank range. The damage of which would be lacking, but the pressure of which would prove likely prove to be a hindrance. Tharr would sustain this stream for a few moments, looking to incapacitate his elusive opposition to hopefully secure some damage from swift, shredding claws.