Duel:Eboric v Gorzhageigk, Match 14 of the Frostmaw Tournament

Duelists: Eboric vs. Gorzhageigk.
Duel: Traditional 3 posts each, with final defense. 10 minute posting limit.
Stakes: Autohit post. Advancement to the Finals in the Titans of Winter Tournament 2012.
Judges: Svilfon, Tiphareth (By hmail)
Winner: Eboric

Frostmaw Colosseum

Eboric steps into the arena for a third time, offering a carefree grin to the watching crowd. He covers his head with his masked helmet, and squares his shoulders, displaying some of the weapons he has brought to this bout. In his left hand, there is a spear, short-hafted and deadly-sharp, the blade dark and oily. In his right, he carries his bearded elven axe, light but large. His mail, underneath the black bearskin cloak, is once more repaired and polished, belted around the waist by Eboric's heavy leather weapons belt, from which hangs the warlord's seaxe, as well as Eidhur. The big man wastes no time in further strutting, chosing instead to focus on his foe, stalking toward the fat man with the air of a predator circling its prey. Like some enormous snake, the warrior darts in, swinging with the short shaft of the spear in an attempt to club the dragon across the jaw in a stunning blow meant to daze Gorzhageigk, leaving him open for the follow up, which comes as a brutal swing of the axe that is aimed to lodge itself solidly in the dragon's side, where it can impart its devious druidic magic and rot the flesh from the bone. Stepping in once more, Eboric grunts with the effort as he slams his knee forward as hard as he can, hoping to strike the possibly injured enemy in the pit of the stomach, driving the wind from his body and rendering him useless, at least for a moment or two.

Gorzhageigk had begun his nigh ritualistic transformation the second his feet touched the snow dusted ground. His lower half was the first to react as his legs widened, knees buckled, and skin shifted into that of the hind legs of a monstrous dragon. Simultaneously, the beast's backbone extended into a long tail tipped with a spear-like horn capable of rending flesh and steel alike. Gorzhageigk hunched over as his weight became too much for those hind legs alone to bear. The earth shook as his once weak and human forelimbs slammed against the sandy stadium floor, now each gloriously strong and covered in the natural dark brown scaled armor of his kind. His nose extended from his face while scales began to fan out across it to replace supple skin just in time to partially deflect the first blow of the match. Even still, skin is broken and Gorzhageigk looks none too happy about it. As the horn atop his snout takes shape and his transformation is complete, the dragon spreads wide his jaws and releases a spine-chilling roar. The barbarian's axe finds it's mark in his side and the scales which thankfully protect the dragon's supple flesh beneath grow dark with whatever black magicks the man's blade wielded. He would find the dragon's underbelly safely hidden beneath tons of... dragon, though the blow surely landed against scales as an annoyance if nothing else. The barbarian may regret approaching such a beast head on, however, as having followed his every move whilst he attacked, Gorzhageigk finds himself in the perfect position to release a roaring blast of scalding hot desert sands at point blank range. The sands rage from deep within and blast out of the dragon's throat threatening to rend armor, scald and tear flesh, and even blind his opponent should he be caught off guard.

Eboric, having learned of this dragon's techniques, is as ready as one can be for such an attack. Even as Gorzhageigk's maw opens, the werebear is on the run, dodging not away, but rather toward the monstrous beast. Even so, the sands slice his back badly as he moves, ringing from the mithril mail and shredding the leather and skin underneath. Ignoring the flare of pain, the big man, for once the more agile fighter in a match, keeps moving, thrusting his spear up as he runs, aiming to lodge the blade up under the softer scales beneath the beast's leg, where it can pierce deep enough to inject the dragon's bloodstream with the oily substance on the blade: poison. It is nothing complicated, merely a paste of the leaves and seeds of the yew tree that, while strong enough to seriously harm a human, is probably only enough to dizzy the dragon, or send him into minor convulsions. This is follows by a frantic roll to one side, keeping the warrior out from under the dragon, should he decide to simply drop. Eboric's goal is to drive Gorzhageigk down, forcing him to remain low to the ground for enough time to allow the barbarian to reach his head, drawing his seaxe along the way and thrusting the blade at his enemy's eye, hoping to drive the point through the sensitive tissue and into the brain beyond.

Gorzhageigk lets out another vicious roar, his only real response to having a sword driven beneath his scales, the equivalent of having a needle shoved beneath a finger nail, and does, indeed, attempt to trample the cretin beneath him. Failing that, the great beast attempts to take to the air only to find himself very much dizzied and, therefore, for all intents and purposes grounded. Nevertheless, he is far from defeated. He backs away from the situation in time to see Eboric charging at him with a seaxe drawn, no doubt brazen enough to leap on his snout, go for the eyes, and do otherwise ridiculously heroic and downright dangerous things. Indeed, the great beast simply faces the ground and keeps a close eye on his attacker, effectively placing the long and razor sharp horn protruding from his nose between the two of them in hopes of catching the werebear off guard and running him through with it. Around the same time that he shoves his nose forward, the dragon slams his tail against the ground, causing the entire arena to rumble and, hopefully, throwing his opponent off balance long enough to prevent him from diverting his deadly course.

Eboric keeps one eye on that horn and, with the cunning of a born fighter, turns it to his advantage. He readies himself to leap into the air, meaning to dodge the horn and use it as a baseboard for his leap...but the thump of the tail comes just at the time of the leap, and the horn slices a line of pain along the big man's thigh, tearing through armor and meat in a spray of blood. Eboric hits the ground hard, rolling unsteadily to his feet. With a roat of his own, he again dodges around behind his foe, limping now, stripping off helmet and armor as he goes. Even as he runs, the bug man begins to shift, his body popping and twisting as brown fur runs the length of his body, sprouting to cover the battle-scarred skin. His face grows and lengthens into a snout, vicious teeth showing from behind raised lips as the werebear rumbles out a snarl, turning like a snake to face his foe once more. Heavy front paws tear at the ground, lending more speed as he charges at his enemy's legs, although not as quickly as before, meaning to move under him again, where the long claws and slashing teeth can rip at the softers scales of the belly, a mere distraction while the barbaric monster reaches his main goal: the neck. There, the warrior twists upward, intending to latch on with all four paws, while gnashing again and again with his teeth at the underside of the dragon's neck, hoping to break through to tear out the beast's vital veins and organs there, with his weight possibly all the while drawing Gorzhageigk's head down, restricting his movement and the use of that deadly horn.

Gorzhageigk loses sight of his opponent immediately after rending through his supple flesh with his horn. The pride of a dragon always their downfall, he does little to catch sight of him again and, instead, roars victoriously for several seconds- long enough for the werebear to transform, dodge away, and find solace beneath the dragon's gargantuan form. The second Eboric's claws meet the softer scales of his underbelly, Gorzhageigk changes his tune. An angry snarl pours from his mouth as he attempts to take to the air once more. Both the blow to his head and slow working poison in his blood stream work against him, however, and he finds himself falling to the ground once again, much too dizzy to maneuver in the air, but not before sweeping the ground beneath him with his tail in hopes of tripping the werebear and rendering him prostrate on the ground exactly where an impossibly heavy dragon is destined to land. Whether -that- blow connects or not is arbitrary at best as anything found beneath Gorzhageigk when he crashes to the ground will surely be smashed flatter than a particularly flat semi-sweet batter breakfast food.

Eboric is in too much of a rage to notice the tail, and so it strikes him squarely across the backside, sending him tumbling. He retains enough instinct, however, to roll along with his own momentum, letting it carry him further away from the falling beast. The ground shakes not a moment later, as Gorzhageigk falls heavily, his nearest body part a mere foot or two away from the transformed warrior. Eboric tries to rise, succeeding on the second attempt, after his injured leg, made worse by the blow from the tail, gives out underneath him. Still, fighting through the pain, he forces his way up, turning to face his foe with grim determination.

Winner: Eboric

Eboric drags himself over to the dragon, teeth bared as he forces out the last reserves of his strength, grabbing the massive head by its horn, and swinging himself up to straddle the neck. There, he begins to hammer down blows, ignoring the pain it causes him, as he strikes the back of Gorzhageigk's skull again and again, pure anger the only thing keeping him going until he bludgeons the beast into submission. Exhausted, wounded, and half-crazed, the werebear exits the arena in haste, leaving his things to be gathered by a member of his warband, who hurries after him, arms full.