Duel:Azife v Gunnar
Gunnar vs. Azife
Judges: Kundera, Reece, Xarden
Gunnar exits the tavern, the giant's massive form covered from head to toe in his favored battle attire, a mixture of preklek and chaos armors. And so here he stands, a stalwart sentinel that awaits his opponent for this brawl. As Azife makes his exit out of Kelay Tavern, the frost giant reaches behind his back to grasp the leather-bound hilt of his fabled warhammer, the Standard Bearer freeing the massive weapon from its confines within the leather sheathe that is its home. Now ready, Gunnar explodes into action without so much as a simply warning, the seasoned veteran of over a hundred battles rushes forth with a speed that betrays his large stature. The warhammer is brought back in a wide arch as Gunnar nears his opponent's much smaller form, his bulging arms giving strength to the calculated blow that is aimed to crush this drow where he stands. And so it is without hesitation that Gunnar unleashes his vicious assault upon Azife's slender form, his mighty warhammer swung forth with enough power to destroy anything it comes into contact with. But it seems this is not the only danger that the drow faces, for as deadly as the massive hammer is, that is only a partial reason it has become fabled among his people. Upon Gunnar's command, the hammer becomes sheathed in an electric current that makes even a glancing blow a dangerous outcome for this smart-mouthed and over confident drow...
Azife stands far away from his foe, a long enough distance to give him some time to watch the Gaint as he rushes. Armored in black leathers, which make it easy for him to move around in with speed and agility, he gets in an unorthodox stance that would seem almost silly. But his main attention is to observe, observe the way the Giant runs, and his armor, looking for an opening. Listening to the pounding of the giants footsteps, each thunderous roar against the soft ground making his adrenaline spike more and more, his eyes start to glow faintly as his thirst for blood comes to him. As soon as the nimble drow sees the giant tug on his warhammer he quickly reaches behind his head with both arms in a cross to pull out his wicked daggers known as the Karmata and Karmatee. Holding his Karmata in his left hand and Karmatee in his right he leaps out of the way of the hammers assault, but gets hit by the current of electricity. Giving him a large jolt and an extra burst of adrenaline, but a small scar for the keeping, he quickly jumps to the giant and jabs his long poisoned Karmata at a small opening in the mans armor just above the leg. Hoping this would be enough to slow the giant down, or even stop him in his tracks, the outcome could become fatal. If the drow would be successful in his hit, the poison wouldn't be noticeable at once, but over time the wound could start to blacken, then blister, after that, the blisters would only get worse, causing all sorts of pain.
Gunnar is a seasoned warrior, and far from a novice when it comes to dealing with a smaller opponent. So as Azife's blades fall, the one is met by the heavily armoured sleeve of alien design, the strange metal meeting the poisoned edge blade of the drow's Karmata. This defensive manuver is not wholly effective though, and instead of being thrusted deep within his leg, the blade instead runs up and slashes the exposed flesh that lies underneath said armoured sleeve. A pain filled howl erupts forth from the massive warrior, anger quickly filling the frost giant as he calls out to his people's chosen diety, Aramoth the God of War. The words rush past the giant's thick lips. " Aramoth!" Gunnar almost instantly going into a primitave state of being that his people calls " Aramoth's Blessing. Now his rage becomes his weapon, and the mighty hammer is swung with an ease that seems almost impossible by mortal means, the blue-iron head a blur as blow after blow falls upon Azife's nimble form. The electric current seems to feed off of the giant's current state, and grows in power until it seems that the warhammer is nothing more than a ball of lightning atop a steel shaft. And so as the drow's poison begins to run its course, Gunnar's willd frenzy speeding up the process, the warrior's savage assault would be slowed only slightly. If Azife was not quick upon his feet, he would very soon find himself a heap of drow flesh upon the dusty road...
Azife cries in agony as the hammer finds its way to his back, leaving him pinned against the ground. This drow has been accustomed to pain ever since a child, this should be nothing--or so he thinks. The current slowly leaving its mark upon his back makes the drow cry out even more before he finally is able to get out from under it. Quickly rising to his feet, but with a limp from his spine being scorched, he is able to stand erect. He cracks his head by tilting it to either side before letting out a loud scream, his eyes start blazing like a wildfire, as though one were looking into the depths of hell, as he begins charging the giant once more. Only this time he waves his hand beneath the giant, making the ground a bit more slippery and wet, the drow falls feet first and slides underneath the giant, only to grab a hold of each leg and give a mighty tug, in hopes of bringing the overgrown knucklehead down to fall on his face on the harder surface.
Gunnar was born within the frozen tundra that is Frostmaw, his childhood spent dwelling within the snow and ice that is his home. And so as this drow manages to survive his assault and tries to trip the giant by transmuting the ground about his feet into mud, the frost giant is prepared. The drow's plan to fell this massive warrior finds one big snag, Gunnar weighs over three thousand pounds, and that is without armor. So when this lithe elf grabs ahold of the spike-covered boots that adorn his rather large feet, Gunnar instantly drops his entire weight down upon the drow in hopes to crush the fool where he stands. In unision with this attack, the warrior slams his mighty warhammer down towards the upper half of Azife's torso, the giant's rage still burning like the flames of hell itself. If his opponent did not manage to find some way to remove himself from underneath the twenty-foot tall giant, he would find himself being crushed by either Gunnar's massive frame of the frost giant's large hammer. Either way, the drow would be hard pressed to move in the mud he has created. As this all unfolds, the poison begins to come into fruitation, three small sores appearing upon the lower half of Gunnar's left forearm, black and blistering more so with each passing moment...
Azife growls as he didn't have the force to trip the giant, noticing as the giant starts to drop he quickly takes an even harder grasp of the mans huge ankles and lifts the bottom part of his body around the mans torso. Wrapping his legs around he them lefts the rest of his body to meet up and even surpass his legs so he is back to back with the man. Making one final attempt to strike the man he reaches for the giants shoulders to once again prop himself up so he may make a jump over him. While in midair he spins around and faces his dagger down to the giant, who would probably be sitting at this point due to his massive form collapsing over Azife. As he begins falling he aims his deadly daggers to the mans neck, but this is easily interrupted as he hits the back end of the mans warhammer, causing him to lose his breath and fall to the side. Struggling for air the Drow is unable to get back to his feet, but is able to pull out a hidden throwing dagger. Placing the blade between his index finger and thumb he accurately aims for the mans temple before chanting a few inaudible words causing wind to swirl around the dagger, to help aid in the speed as he throws it.
Gunnar lets an eager grin form upon his battle worn visage as he eyes the drow's fallen form from beneath the full-face helmet that adorns the giant's massice skull. The dagger whistles through the air towards its target, which it manages to hit but is easily reflected off. But even though the giant has managed to evade most of the physical damage this drow has tried to unleash upon him, the poison has indeed weakend him. His vision blurs somewhat, and sweat pours from his brow as the warrior moves to leans against the tavern. " Damn drow... whatcha go and do to me?"
Victor: Gunnar