Duel:Balatro v Eboric (DD)

From HollowWiki

Location: Kelay Way

Judges: Falastarian, Quinmyutiotu, Rheven, Satoshi, Lasarus

Stakes: Death

Winner: Eboric


Eboric stands in the middle of the street, drawn up to his full - and impressive - height. His body is clad in black and white, armor brought down from far Frostmaw, enchanted and strong. A round, white shield is clasped in his left hand, a match for many pieces of his armor, and spiked along the rim, with one long spike in the center. An axe and a seaxe swing at his belt, leaving his right hand open to hold a coiled whip, twelve feet in length and glimmering with ice. From behind the visor of his horned helmet, Eboric's blue eyes glare out, narrowing when they find Taki. The massive human wastes no time on words; rather, he springs into action with all the grace of a trained warrior. Giving a short crow hop forward, Eboric winds his arm back and whips it back again, sending the long lash out along the cobbled corridor with blinding speed, straight for Taki's neck. The whip is meant to coil around the throat and hold, strangling, the enchanted leather lash sending out waves of bitter, biting cold, while the barbarian hauls back on his end, meaning to pull the self-proclaimed monster hunter foward. No sooner has he sent his weapon forth, however, then Eboric himself surges along the same path to meet his foe, dropping the whip to draw his heavy axe as he comes, ready to finish off the smaller being in one fell swoop.

Balatro stood within the center of the square garbed within his heavy robes and cloaked. Chaotic swirling eyes focused upon the man before him as he readied himself. As he began to attack the foxling blinked and was quickly overcome by the weapons swing around his throat, the tightening around the enchanted slave collar which held it's place upon his throat. The enchantments met his and a fowl grin becomes apparent at the rather odd item that was used to save his life. Hee withdraws the sword upon his back moments before the man charged only to hold it within both hands. The diamond blade was flung upwards to parry the man's attack and as the two weapons collided the fox was sent backwards towards the ground with a hard slam. A low growl rumbled through Bal's stomach as he stood once again and his left hand reached for a small pouch on his pocket. The small vial was withdrawn from this pocket and sent flying towards the man, directed towards his head which while it approached the fox seemed focused upon it until finally he snapped and sent a small chaotic green bolt towards it which shattered it. The vial erupted into a scene of red paint which threatened to blind the man's sight from being further used. Finally the fox moved to the crossbow strapped to his waist, a few changes made since the man had last seen the fox, and raised the sights to be poised upon the barbarian's chest. Click, click, click, the sound continued as the realization came to mind that the weapon had been stocked with several bolts, a repeating weaponry made to spam as many of the projectiles towards his body as possible, all in all a clip of six aimed directly to imbed themselves deep within his frame.

Eboric reacts from instinct alone as the vial sails toward him, turning his head and shutting his eyes against the spray of red, faltering in his charge. During this crucial moment, the bolts begin to fly. The first one punches through the armor at Eboric's left shoulder, jerking him back to attention. His shield absorbs the other five in a rapid succession, the bolts studding the shield in a short line. Grunting, the big man reaches up to jerk the bolt from his flesh, grimacing at the blood that now washes over his armor in a slow trickle. Eboric tosses the bolt contemptuously at his foe and takes a better grip on the haft of hardened ash in his hand. Keeping his shield before him, in the even that his foe somehow manages to reload the crossbow, the barbarian again gives chase. As he approaches, he brings his axe into bear, causing the cruel chunk of steel swish through the air as he slashes at his foe, still moving at a run, meaning to drive the littler man back, off-balance, rather than actually strike him. The human follows through, stepping in to the gap, lending all of his weight to a vicious backhanded blow, the air keening around the blade as it follows its course toward Taki's side, easily capable of severing the arm at the elbow and still biting deep into the torso beneath; a mortal blow. Unfinished yet, Eboric allows his momentum to carry him around, swinging the shield around in a wheeling arc, held out flat in an attempt to catch the barbarian's prey on the side of the head with the spiked rim, a blow liable to stave in the skull like a rotten fruit.

Balatro 's blade came to grips once more as he lifted it from the ground and threw the crossbow towards the barbarian as a momentary diversion. Bolt met it's weapon and both were flung off course to meet their end upon the ground. Sword held in hand, the man's blade was swung forth towards the first swing and sent backwards, only to have a second come in at the arm and with instinct alone he worked to move from it's path. The axe cut into Bal's left arm and the fox stumbled back from the fight with the unsure footing the foe had probably hoped for. The third assault came forward and from the recent stumble the trickster's chin happens to catch the blow and cause him to once again fall even further back. A spit was sent from his seat upon earth towards the barbarian, acidic in nature yet small in design it'd do of little more then a moment's distraction while the fox rolled only to spring to his feet once more. The jester's spat once more upon the ground, this time red fluid came from his mouth along with several pieces of white cartilage where his teeth had seemed to catch the force and been knocked loose. His eyes filled with rage and body with eager anticipation as he reached with a bloodied arm into his pocket and rolled a jar at Eboric's feet. The hand which rolled the jar was limply handed the weapon and soon the trickster found his dagger and sent it towards the jar, hilt shattering the container which released a buzzing sound from within. A swarm of small angry bees was sent free to swarm all around, barbarian's body given to forfeit due to his close proximity unless he moved swiftly. The lycan growled angrily and dropped the sword, useless to him now, as he proceeded forth with the clawed gloves made from the same material as the blade. The trickter's body dropped as he approached to avoid any possible swing and with the force of gravity combined with weight sent both claws aimed forward at the man's feet. Several bees began to buzz around him as well as poison was sent into his body from the stings and howling could be heard, the likes of which caused him to roll from the place where he lay and leave both weapons behind and him mere feet from the barbarian's reach.

Eboric catches the spit on his shield as well, scarcely seeming to notice the acidic quality; his attention is more on the bees. He steps back away from the cloud, ignoring the stab of pain in his right calf as Taki's claws pierce through, cutting deep into the flesh. Retreating a good ten feet, the barbarian contents himself to swatting the errant persuing bee, until the rest of the swarm has lost interest and buzzed off to the woods. It is then that Eboric notices the blood filling his boot, and feels weakness in his left arm. Another grunt is heard as, with a mighty effort, Eboric flings the shield full-force; an ungainly throw, made more so because of his injured arm, but only meant to serve as a distraction, though fully capable of causing harm if it strikes. Instead of going straight for Taki, however, the shield zooms at the wall of a building a little in front of the foxling. It rebounds with a loud clang, and heads toward the true target, hopefully distracting him all the more. His left hand, now free, darts across his body to snatch his long seaxe from its lambswool sheath, pulling the heavy, one-sided blade out with a soft 'whisking' sound. Brandishing two weapons now, Eboric smashes them together in a clash of metal, roaring out his pain and fury. Once again he charges at his prone enemy, throwing caution to the winds and trusting in his armor to save him as he closes the distance easily. Hatred erupts from him in another roar as he swings his axe down in a lumberjack's blow, meant to catch Taki's attention as it careens toward his neck, while the seaxe sweeps down and from one side, curving into a thrust meant to send the sloping point into the foxling's stomach, gutting him like a pig.


Balatro gave a sigh of relief as the man backed away from him due to the bees and watched with joy as the shield was sent no where near him. Weakly he rose to his feet only to find himself lodged once more in the earth as the shield collided into his back with the side meant to be held. The fox growled slightly irritated by the momentary attack and when he turned back to spot Eboric as he rushed forth the shield was quickly grabbed and pulled over his form. The clang was heard as it smashed into his barrier and then yet another attack was sent at his side which caused a pain to rush through his side. A desperate lycanthrope wriggled his hand free from underneath the protection until finally he gripped the fallen bolt from before. The fallen projectile was grasped within his good hand and swung backwards behind him as it threatened to imbed itself deep within the side of the barbarian's foot. His body rolled one last time with the shield until he could stand and burden the thing upon an injured left arm. Hardly holding it up, he limply rushed forward towards the barbarian's frame and worked to impale him upon the spike in front while he hid behind the massive defense.

Eboric, driven into a frenzy by pain and anger, loses himself in the glory of his attack - until the bolt slams into his already injured leg, below the initial wound. He only just manages to jerk away, taking the bolt with him as he attempts to put distance between himself and his foe, to calculate his next course. To his surprise, Taki follows this time, rushing him with his own shield. Too tired and wounded to dodge much, he simply steps to the side at the last moment, absorbing the blow on his uninjured shoulder, while avoiding the long spike. He is knocked a few steps back, trailing blood, but still alive. Wearily, he clashes his weapons together again, ready for more.


Rheven said, "ooc: Both duelists put together a good effort, but the winner is clear. By a four to one count, Eboric is the winner."


Eboric staggers over to his enemy, mustering his strength for one final blow. He drives his seaxe down again, slitting the tendons in the back of the foxling's knees to keep him from running. Ignoring the other's screams of pain, he flips his now disabled enemy over onto his stomach, and sets to his grisly work. With the seaxe, he slits the skin and robes of Taki's back in one swift slash. Then, the axe comes into play. Short, swift chops hack through the ribs on either side of the spine until, tossing his weapons down, Eboric is able to reach out and crack the bones back, revealing the heaving pink lungs of the still-living lycan. Almost gently, the big man lifts the organs out and places them on the splayed ribs, watching them flutter like gory wings as the foxling breathes his last, agonizing breaths. "And now," bellows Eboric, his voice hoarse with pain, "Badawi is avenged." He takes the time to loot the body, taking anything of value, before summoning his ever-present companion, the bear. It lopes over and begins to feed, tearing off limbs and feasting on the exposed organs, while Eboric begins to patch himself up.