Duel:Aranhil v Jack
10k stakes(ooc)
Judges: Sidney, Keturah(mid), Rhocielle Winner: Aranhil
Secluded Village
You are standing in a very out of the way village, nestled deep within the mountains, and the people here must live a more simple life. It seems very peaceful here, and a nice sized town, for a place so out of the way from the rest of the world. Time feels like it runs at a slower pace then the rest of Hollow, and the people are content with that. The town is smaller than most you've seen, but its peacefulness is attracting. As you look north you see the Mage Tower, and know that is another reason so few people come to this town. The spell casters of Hollow are disdained because of the secret knowledge they posses and many are afraid of them solely because of those unknown arts that they practice. To the south, you see a nice well, probably for the town water supply. To the east is a rough range that leads back out onto the tougher parts of the hills and to the west is a house, but you cant tell from here if it is occupied or up for sale. To the north is a village path that leads to the infamous Mage Tower.
- note* Actual role-play shall be posted in the RP Logs.
--DUEL STARTS--
Jack would bow slightly to the man, looking around a moment and noting the small crowd of townsfolk gathering about. It wasn't often that something interesting happened in these parts, so they would jump at any chance they had. Caution, however, was still a priority for them, so they stood a quite ample distance away. Grin quick to come, Jack would take a few steps back from the man, his mind flipping this way and that--the thought process begun as to how he should test this man. Slow steps carried him backwards, facade still towards Aranhil, boots crunching at the dirt path. Twitching, almost, his fingers fell to his belt; nostrils flaring to smell the air, hair twirling about with a small burst of wind. Now! It was a snap of motion, a quick burst leading to more and more. The slender digits of his left hand caught hold of three small daggers, each hidden prior to being held between four fingers. A glimmer might be caught with a keen enough eye before the metal slivers were launched towards the half-elf. One towards his head, another towards his midsection, and the third towards his booted feet. It seemed that before the blades had even left his hand he was in motion, his speed a sight of awe, and especially so for those who were not used to battle. Right hand falling down, grasp was made upon scimitar hilt, the ring clearly audible in the silencing ensuing between metal clinks and crunched ground. A quick spinning motion made, a push skyward with tensed sinew, and Jack was spinning like a sideways top amidst the air. Another dagger pulled free, launching towards Aranhil after he should have hopefully evaded the initial attack. This was simply to serve as a distraction as his scimitar would come smashing down towards his head with a clean horizontal strike, his feet landing shortly after with a wide, low stance for balance and agility. Should the man have evaded both entirely, he would find Jack's free left hand atop the hilt of his Katana, ready to strike or block. Likewise, it would be found there if the man should have blocked or taken the hit in some fashion.
Aranhil readied himself for whatever may come his way, the trench-coat that he often wore was not with him this day and the crimson bandanna that was normally seen upon his face hung loosely from his neck along with the pendant that seemed to somehow protect the Weapons Master in some way that wasnt even understood by its user. Staring the man down he watched for the slightest motion as he was trained to and simultaneously he would release the full of his magical ability into those of his runic style rings. Quickly the strength of giants would pass throughout his body flooding the small half elf with the power that he was now well accustomed to. His own hands had fallen to his waist where a belt of daggers had been well placed that morning. Upon the first movement the Weapons Master would react with speed that may equal the assassin. The elven heritage that was his blood line allowed for things to be seen by him just quicker than that of your average human. Pulling free two of his own daggers, each among the longest of the variety on his belt, he would spring into motion already stirring little swirls of dust into the air as he moved and avoid the first blade that would attempt to strike him, the second and third would be deflected by his own blades. Aranhil knew this speed was beyond that of an untrained human and so grinned happy that this battle was one that would surely test his own skills. As the assassin moved towards him he would move forward as well though only a step or so could be taken before the human would reach him and begin his cyclone attack which nearly caught the half elf of guard. The dagger that would be launched would be seen too late and slice through his right shoulder as it then fell away from him. With a grimace of pain he threw a single dagger towards the Assassin and raised his other to attempt and block the beings attack. The force behind the blade had been high due the his spin and so his block would serve as more of a deflection as he moved downward and allowed his blade to tilt sending the foes weapon above him and hopefully spiraling away. At this time he would jump inward towards the being closing the distance to near zero as he chambered a punch and unleashed it in under a seconds time. The spiked knuckled upon his hand could serve to help end this battle for behind the punch was the full of the Giants strength that flowed through his body. It didnt matter if the attack would land or not for directly afterward he would backpedal quickly drawing now two throwing daggers form the belt and sending the hallucinogenic blades spiraling towards the enemy.
Jack allowed his grin to further at the speed of the man. This would indeed prove a most interesting battle, and one he would not forsake. The dagger tossed his way would quite easily be deflected by his Scimitar, his spinning motion more than enough to fling it out of the way. Surprise was quick to be found on Jack's face, though. He had high expectations for this man, but he did not expect such strength. His Scimitar quickly was sent spiraling into the air and shortly after lodging into the earth several feet away. Fear, for the first time in a long time, issued forth speed unseen for him in a long time. His left hand began to unsheathe his Katana while he began to backpedal away from the punch headed towards his face. So very close, was he. The barbed knuckle piece seeming to simply slice across his face, a fresh splash of blood spewing forth onto Aranhil and even Jack. A sharp scream was let loose, and his Katana soon to follow, though it fell to slow in the midst of the battle to actually strike Aranhil in his retreat. Luckily, he did not feel the full effect of the attack just yet, but he could clearly see what it had done. Or rather, he couldn't see. The attack was right across his left eye, cutting into it along with some of the flesh bordering it. Furry, at a somewhat calm level was what was the result. Deep booted steps pushed and propelled him forward in a blur of motion, his Katana giving a nice horizontal slash before a diagonal slash from bellow. Pushing back, Jack intended to keep Aranhil on defense. A quick lunge was made, stabbing right for his left shoulder, and followed up with a vertical strike.
(I posted 7mins late because pc malfunction) Aranhil's face showed no signs of feeling happiness or pain, instead he was purely focused on the here and now. The beings body flowed with both the power of the Giants and his own adrenaline which made the little bit of pain he now felt fade away from his mind. The half elf thought nothing of his attack when it had failed though still injuring his foe slightly as the blood from a blinded eye would dot his right side. Instead he backpedaled away from whatever danger the Assassin may send his way and when the foe had launched towards him with a speed that to the half elf must have seemed his best he drew another of his daggers, this one large as well. The serious of attacks that happened next he was mostly ready for, although the speed of such still kept him slightly guessing. The first attempt to injure him came from a horizontal blade and instead of deflecting as he had before he would instead jump backwards in a flip to avoid the blade, though he could not fully land and recover himself before the next attack would strike. The upward slash would catch him upon his right arm cutting deeply into the half elves flesh. A flood of blood would flow quickly from him and instantly he could feel the pain. A look of slight hate would creep upon his face as he reacted. Dropping both of his daggers he would dodge the thrust of the blade to the left and in doing so the stress upon his hip would give way causing him to fall downward to the earth. Not wanting it to end here he would catch himself with both hands and spin himself around before pushing from the earth attempting a full force kick to his stomach. The strength of the rings was the only thing that allowed him to project his small frame at the assassin before his last attack could come to to bare fruit. However his feet bore no armor and was instead bare, so though the damage would be great if it would hit no added damage from footwear would be a problem.
Jack was neither pleased nor angry with his attack, instead, he simply attempted to concentrate on the form of the man--his blood splattered vision blurry at best. Vaguely he could tell that he had fallen to the ground, and it wasn't until mid-strike that Aranhil burst into him, feet kicking straight into his chest. How immensely it hurt! A crack here, and another there did not sound good, which only lent a hand to aiding the pain felt. Adrenaline pumping was the only thing keeping him from laying where he fell. Instead, he would roll over quickly, pushing himself to his feet instantly. Shaking his head quickly, he attempted to clear up his vision, though it was to no avail. Instead, he pulled his blade to the ready, essentially blind save for the flashes of color differentiating things from others. Quickly, and rather frantically his chant would begin, the enchantment of his blade pulled from thin air on the spot. The blade quickly began to glow in slight, a spark zooming off here and there as a small amount of electricity filled the blade. Jack was out of daggers, and hence out of metal objects upon his body--Aranhil still wore his rings, as well as several other weapons. The slight pull in the blade would alert him to his location, and the small bit of vision he had would testify to it while allowing him to make the necessary attack. A jerk to the right, and a push of muscle would send him in the direction of the wounded halfelf, blade focusing towards the foe. Another diagonal strike was given, coming from below and across(vaguely) the man's torso.
Aranhil laid upon Lithrydel's dusty soil the only weapons he would have left were two small throwing daggers within their leather bindings upon his belt. Then he would remember the pouch at his waist, which had within it many marbles, a simple enough item though Aranhil knew differently. As the foes weapon would begin to crawl with an electrical current he would withdraw several of these small ball like objects. Each of them seemed slightly different than the other rather that be in size or color. The first one he would throw in his mouth and crunch down hard which would serve as a relief for pain should he live long enough for the effects to take hold. The next was a red marble and was flicked with that of his thumb and the strength within his body would make it a devastating projectile, to make it worse the marble would explode allowing its fiery enchantments to possibly consume whatever it may hit. The next several he would drop to the ground not having the time to handle properly, one of which would activate on its own leaching the magic needed for it from the half elves body. What was once a black marble would end with the showering of a black smoke in a small area about Aranhil. Cursing his luck he would roll over and out of instinct withdrawing the first dagger and then the second, hoping to work against the enemies electrical blade he would toss one to his right while sheltering the last behind him, for a few moments as he rolled to the right attempting to dodge the blade should the first metal blade not distract him long enough. Finishing his sideways role he would do one more backwards and landing upon his feet in a low crouch and out of the smoke he would throw the last of the hallucinogenic daggers. His only weapons left would be the pouch of marbles which had came lose and fell to the ground in his roll, however the metal on his spikes upon his hands may also prove to be a source of attack should his foe continue the match.
Jack was dumbfounded by what happened next, his sight preventing from seeing the finer details of the matter and leaving him to only witness the effects that followed in their wake. The first marble made a direct hit with his left shoulder, pushing him back and nearly to his feet with the explosion. The flames scorched upwards, burning his clothing and starting at his skin before he removed his shirt. Pain was high, respect following suit. He pushed forward still, for some reason, the smoke just as confusing as the sharp pain followed by the explosion in his shoulder. His Katana held firmly in his right hand, blood streaking down his arm and mixing with sweat to form that all-too familiar smell of battle. His blade would tinge to the left, and then to the right again, giving a slight distraction before the last dagger would be tossed his way. If not for an ever-so-slight twitch of the magnetic field, Jack might have died, but instead he was alerted towards it. Allowing his blade to hold its place, honed on the dagger, he was sure to block it. The field would tense as the metal neared, and Jack would deflect it without a moments notice. Blood flowed freely from several spots, and Jack simply collapsed on the ground....the battle seeming unfinished to him. He laid there despite his will to continue....broken, and unable.