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Senstren grinned back. He could feel Yawgmoth's energies focusing underneath him. Quite clever. His wards would almost completely negate a direct magical attack, but they had no effect on influencing things to attack him. "Well, I guess this leaves us with only one option then..." He said, raising his hand, palm up and pointing two fingers at Yawgmoth. "Draw." He said, loudly enough for Yawgmoth and probably the onlookers to hear. With that, he flicked his thumb out, causing a white spark. The bone fragments immediately launched towards the back of Yawgmoth's knees, flat side first, in an attempt to buckle them and drop him to the ground. From Senstren's fingers erupted a searing white line of fire, aimed at Yawgmoth's stomach was at standing level, where his chest or neck might be if he fell. Senstren could only hope that this would be enough to break his concentration away from whatever he was targeting.

"What?!" Senstren yelled, releasing the spell and grabbing at the tendril at his throat with his left hand. Letting it take his weight, he pulled his legs off the ground, dodging the bone fragments. He held out his right hand, quickly drawing a symbol to summon his scythe from the ground. It shot over towards his outstretched hand as Senstren struggled for breath. Catching the weapon, he rapidly began draining energy from the scythe into his body, causing his body to radiate Free Magic, symbols forming in the Necromancer's mind.

Intresting Said the voice. Reok made no response. He was intently watching the fight now and determined that if he were to ever get in a fight with yawgmoth he would either have to restrict magic, which he'd rather not do, or be ready with his own form of teleportation since that seemed to be the norm around here. Still he saw flaws in the tactics used here. While Yawgmoth's abilities seemed endless and very well timed it was evident that he had either not forseen the earlier scythe's return or was too stubborn to admit it's threat. His reactions however seemed to make up for this but Reok didn't think that burn mark on Yawgmoth's back was necessary. Senstren on the other hand had pointed his own gun at himself and had failed to use it to full advantage from Reok's point of view. If he had hoped to bring Yawgmoth himself to his knees with them then why not try to use them to strike the new enemy behind him? Right now it seemed Senstren was focused more on his own condition rather than that of his enemy. A policy that had it's pros but an equal amount of cons. Turning to Ziven he commented, "It seems the one with the Scythe is having some difficulty. I recall that this contest was not to be to the death so then are we responsible to see to it that this does not happen or can we trust the participants themselves?"

The adrenaline running through his veins caused Senstren mind to begin racing, pulling forth more and more symbols into being. With the final master mark, Senstren released the spell. Pure white flames erupted into existence, covering Senstren's entire body, flooding the landscape with nearly unbearable heat and painful doses of light, bleaching much of the nearby wildlife. Senstren pulsed more energy into the attack, causing the flames to reach higher, and slowly widening, threatening to engulf Yawgmoth. Heat resistant or not, this much raw energy would hurt.

For a moment the flames disappeared underneath the cloak of darkness. Mere seconds later, the flames blasted through and once again illuminated the cliff side. This lasted for about five more seconds before the fire died down, revealing Senstren on his knees, shoulders slumped, head bowed, smoke rising from his arms and back. The choker around his neck radiated a strange blue light, pulsing slowly. The necromancer slowly lifted one foot, and then the other, standing painfully, multiple ribs cracked or broken from the pummeling that he had taken seconds before. He looked down at the scythe, which had split in half at some point during the blast, for a good amount of time. Finally, he looked up, gazing directly at his opponent, eyes shining with master marks. "That hurt." He said flatly, pulling in what Free Magic energy he had left and raising his hand, palm up, fingers spread apart.

The Titan stopped in his tracks as the flames died down and looked back over his shoulder as the necromancer stood on shaky legs and held up his palm as if he were ready to cast another spell. "We must admit you almost caught us by surprise. You should quit while you're ahead." Yawgmoth called out turning to face him. His arm too now outstretched and pointing at Senstren. Red lightning began to crackle along his arms starting at his shoulders.

The lightning gathered into a small purple orb that was about the size of a golf ball to start but steadily grew until it was about the size of a basketball the red lightning orbiting it. "We'll let you in on a little secret. Our Darkness doesn't not explode. It implodes. This is to say, rather than cause damage by excessive concussive force it eats away at matter causing it break down and collapse upon itself like an acid of sorts. You're in no state to run." he called out calmly. "If you fire a spell, we fire this. We think, we could get away unscathed or with minimal damage. However, in your condition you probably won't escape. You will die. Our agreement was not to kill you. We think our fight is over." he called "End it. Or We will."

Senstren stood still for a moment, small blue sparks flying between his fingers, debating whether or not to attempt to counter the attack. After a few tense seconds, he sighed, and lowered his hand, allowing the energy to disperse. "I know how cliche this must sound, but although you win this time, when we next meet in battle, you will not escape so unscathed." He said, attempting to return to an emotionless face, but ending up with more of a grimace.

"Then I guess I will take my leave until our next battle." Senstren raised his hand, palm down, causing the scythe pieces to elevate into his grasp. He did not remove his gaze from Yawgmoth, though he wanted to mourn the loss of his beloved weapon. Pulling the remaining energy from the tool, a smaller circle of white flames sprung up around him. "Farewell Lord Yawgmoth." He turned to the woman at his side and bowed slightly. "Madam." He felt like he had seen her before, possibly in the main room of Angel's establishment, but he couldn't connect a name to the face, at least not right now. He turned to the newcomer and gave him a similar short bow. "Sir. I trust this encounter hasn't scared you away from the Red Dragon Syndicate." With that, he snapped his fingers of his left hand, and the flames rose and fell, leaving no trace other than burn marks and bone splinters that Senstren had been there.