Duel:Cyllarus v Rhocielle
Cyllarus vs. Rhocielle
- Judges: Kenneth, Liana, and Jacklin
- Winner: Rhocielle, split vote.
Cyllarus stands amidst the scattered shrubs, arrayed in full armor. Heavy metal plates cover his body from head to tail. His body armor has several sharp ridges running the length of his body, designed to make it dangerous for an opponent to get close, as well as 3 ridges along the top of his back and along the spine, to prevent an agile foe from trying to jump on his back. In one hand he carries his oversized halberd, topped with a moon-shaped blade two feet across. Slung over the other shoulder is a simple bow and quiver with 3 arrows. The arrows are not tipped with silver heads, as, even though this is an 'anything goes' tournament, he has no desire to permanently injure or possibly kill Rhocielle, even by accident. Cyllarus reaches up with his free hand to solute Rho, then turns and gallops directly away from the lycan. Once he reaches a suitable distance, the centaur turns back and plants the halberd in the dirt and unslings the bow. Drawing an arrow, he aims and launches the three arrows one at a time. Odds are good none will hit or do significant damage, but they will hopefully keep him off balance and slow him down. Once they are fired, Cyllarus drops the bow and quiver to the ground, yanks his polearm out of the ground, moves it into an attack grip, and charges straight at Rhocielle over the hard ground.
Rhocielle raised his own hand in salute to the centaur, the look of reluctance ever present on the anthro looking wolf's expression as he greeted the other. The black furred male was clad in almost form fitting black armor, smooth to the touch and appearance. Wielding his bow in one paw like, and the other resting on the hilt of the bastard sword at his waist, he narrowed his grey eyes as the centaur galloped away. Curiosity struck him for only a few moments before he realized what the other was attempting. Watching the bow notched and released, the small volley of arrows were easily avoided by simple strafing and side stepping. There was no scent of silver to them as they whizzed past the air around him. No sooner had the last struck earth that he drew his own bow properly. Unlike his opponent whom used natural arrows, his free paw drew back the string empty-handed. By now, the black furred male required not to chant the sacred words needed to conjure the magical arrow that was soon formed across the bow. Taking careful aim ahead of the now charging centaur, he spread his furry digits across the string to summon not only one arrow, but three. Each gap between fingers now held a magical arrow all there own, ready to fly ahead of their target with the same intentions of Cyllarus, to make the half-horse male rear in surprise, or be hit outright if he were even faster than the Lycan presumed. As soon string sang in a slight twang as his paw relaxed and released the arrows, he drew his sword with the free paw. Regardless of what the arrows would do, he was ready for the incoming opponent.
Cyllarus grins mirthlessly as he sees Rho fight fire with fire, using a bow in return. Oddly enough though, the arrows are fired short, into the ground in front of him. One of them lands close enough to force him to change his course, slowing down the speed of his charge. With his size, momentum is one of his biggest advantages, and one that is not easily recovered. So as he thunders down on the lycan, it's not as fast as he wanted, giving his opponent more time to recover and respond, but it will have to do. He arcs the halberd around horizontally in a two-handed swing, aiming the massive blade directly at Rho's waist.
Rhocielle glared intently with grey orbs at the still charging centaur. The arrows flew as he expected, perhaps even better as they caused the other slow down. From an armored avalanche to an armored landslide, Cyllarus' weight would still be dangerous at a head-on collision, but at least the force was partially diminished. There was not enough time to notch another volley, unless his intent was to have a moon shaped ornament in his belly. Standing his ground would have also been suicidal from the danger of being impale by the barbs of the plating. So few options for attack, and time was running shorter. Making his choice, he lowered himself onto his haunches, using the bow in his off paw out as a shield of sorts and brandishing the steel bastard sword in his right paw. Closer still the centaur came and the wolf did not move. He could feel the dirt now rising up from Cyllarus' hooves digging deep in his continuous charge. Close enough, he thought to himself. He quickly stood and from the other prospective, it would look like Rhocielle had gone mad and was attempting to charge right back at him. Instead, he used his bow to duck under the blade of the halberd and impact with the shaft to try to diverge its sharp path elsewhere. The wolf's lunge was not a straight path, but truly a forward tilted dodge, leaning just enough to the left to fly past Cyllarus' charging body while his own blade came up high to strike towards the flank of the horse legs.
Cyllarus lets the halberd continue to swing around after missing it's target. There is a sting along his right side as the sword slices down his side. The force of the blow is mostly stopped by the armor, but slashing blows are dangerous even if not deep. Continuing on, he circles back around, making as tight a turn as possible, but with his size, it isn't very. As he comes back around, he attempts one last charge, although slower, with the halberd blade extended straight forward to skewer the lycan. But it's a feint. Expecting the lycan to dodge, Cyllarus is ready for it and throws a kick with his forelegs, aiming a sharp hoof at his leg or body.
Rhocielle rolled quickly to the ground following his previous leap to safety, coming up to his knees, then crouching legs in one fluid movement. His maws were gaped open in a soft pants of breathe as he gripped both bow and sword tightly. Again, he held the bow forward as a makeshift shield, but his ears perked up to alertness at the sight of the forward extended halberd. That would surely not only snap the bow, but also impale him afterward. Quickly he threw it towards Cyllarus with a flick one of the ends, causing the weapon to curve slightly in its flight. He knew it would be a useless attack, harmless at least, and distracting at most. His sword shifted to point the blade downward, held upside down by one paw as the flat side of the blade was braced by his armored sleeve. The positioning of his bastard sword and arm resembled a crucifix, but he was not praying for mercy, only assembling a stronger makeshift shield. Heels loosely dug into the earth beneath him as he waited the impact of the cresent moon blade. A loud grunt was heard as steel collided with steel, then a canine yelp of surprise as he saw the second attack. Quickly he tried to jump back further with the initial impact, but he could only lessen the blow, one of the raised hooves striking at the shoulder of his off hand to send him flying a few feet. Injured,
he still scrambled himself to his feet with the sword still held at the ready, though his left arm twitching in the throbbing pain he endured. He snarled almost darkly now and raised his sword high to strike with swift arching paths. There was little thought to these attacks, but each was accurately aimed towards vulnerable joints of the forward plated armor.
Cyllarus uses the halberd haft to block or deflect as many of the swordthrusts as possible, but it is a weapon not designed for close combat, and is much less flexible and maneuvarable, and the giant centaur collects several wounds, even through the thick armor plating. Backing slowly away, his arms flip and swing the halberd effortlessly around blocking and deflecting the licking blade.
Kelovath and Jacklin Tournament