Duel:Eboric v Kumorohyou

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Duelists: Eboric, Kumorohyou

Judges: Tiphareth, Satoshi

Stakes: Kumorohyou to leave the Fold, and to leave Eboric's warband alone, or Eboric to leave the Fold alone.

Location: The Wildlands, Venturil


Nature seems to have totally taken over here. The grass is the height of a tall hobbit, and although you can't see anything in it, you hear rustling, and the sounds of small, but viscious creatures. Wild flowers are dotted inbetween the blades of grass, also unusually tall. What force is at work here? If the grass and flowers have grown to this size, what about the creatures here?


Kumorohyou quietly stands in the midst of the tall grass, right in the very spot in which he had fought the necromancer Knelltic. There were slight changes about the exoskeleton-clad shaman. Rather than the traditional pale-turquoise color that his eyes and the armor's geometric markings tended to take, both gaze and runes were an amber color, the type of fluorescent yellow that befits the eyes of a big cat. "This place…" the panther mutters to no one in particular. Even those without the spiritual sensitivity that Kumori possesses could see and feel that there was something…off, about this particular part of the Wildlands. Some of the older trees were still partially decayed, as if they were flash-wilted, and the very air warps the light around it in an enigmatic mirage effect. Every footfall and breath that the combatants take is teased with an unnatural echo. All of it is compounded by a feeling similar to Kumori's Spirit, yet this aura was much more harsh and hostile. "Never again…" he whispers, his glowing yellow eyes peering through his translucent, faceless visor and staring towards Eboric.

Eboric stands proudly in the wild field, bearskin cloak thrown back to reveal armor lit red by the dying sun. He carries his seaxe in his left hand, heavy and freshly sharpened, and his helmet in his right. With a feral grin, he places the helm over his head, and draws his axe. Giving the bearded weapon a flashy twirl, he tightens his grip on both blades, and advances on Kumorohyou. He walks with confidence, but lightly, ready to move at the drop of a hat, a fact he proves when, within the last few yards, he explodes into action, hurling the axe end over end toward his enemy so that, should the blade hit, it will crush through the feline's armor and impart the devious druidic magic, rotting the flesh at at an alarming rate. If, however, the haft strikes intstead of the blade, it still carries enough force to knock the shaman back, if not drop him altogether. Regardless, the barbarian surges after his axe, his long legs eating up the ground swiftly as he bull-rushes his foe, seaxe swinging low as he nears in an attempt to hack into the feline's leg, with force capable of nearly severing it, while the warlord throws his shoulder down and forward, meaning to end his charge with a stunning blow to Kumorohyou's chest, sending the hopefully crippled man flying.

Kumorohyou hadn't even drawn any weapons, the shaman watching the barbarian's shoulder movements, the most telling feature of any fighter, as he hurls the axe at him. Rolling to the side with supernatural speed, accelerated even further by the fact that the hilt of the axe had hit him square in the shoulder, the panther draws his katana, the blade glowing a faint blue and making a constant hissing noise as he recovers and closes the distance between himself and Eboric. His blade moves at a 45 degree angle, intent on transferring the momentum of the seaxe rather than absorb it completely, the shaman moves to get underneath the werebear's swinging arm and slash into the grooves of the man's armor. Should they hit metal, pale-blue sparks would fly as the curved, vibrating blade attempts to knaws its way through whatever it hits.

Eboric wastes no time in shock of the feline's speed, rather focusing on recovering from the deflected blow, while bringing his empty right hand around and down to punch the side of Kumorohyou's blade, an attempt which comes just too slow. However, the movement shifts the big man, so that the katana thuds solidly into mithril chain, which absorbs the blow and leaves Eboric bruised, but not bloodied. Stepping back, the warlord draws his sword, Eidhur, from the sheath at his hip. The blade emits a strange sort of keening, heard only by those able to attune to the spirits of the dead as it calls to the ghosts of its original owner's people. More strange than that sound, however, is that an answering noise calls from Venturil, bringing souls from the graveyard just to the north of the city who, for the moment, seem content to watch the battle unfold. Blue eyes blazing hate from behind the helmet's ornate mask, Eboric closes with his foe again, flicking Eidhur out so that the point rakes toward the feline's face, meant to cause him to draw back, while the werebear steps in with his left foot, throwing the momentum into an overhanded swing of the seaxe, aimed to drive in at an angle to take his foe where neck meets shoulder, rending armor, flesh, and bone alike on its path to the heart.

Kumorohyou inhales sharply, the breath making a rattling sound beneath his visor as he pushes himself back, Eidhur succeeding in getting him within range of his seaxe. The feline raises his blade in a roof block, that same deflecting parry as before, but to the feline's disappointment, his smaller body absorbed enough force to fracture that same shoulder that Eboric's axe had hit. As he continues to back away in a defensive stance, Kumorohyou raises a finger to tap semi-frantically on the chest of his exoskeleton. "Come on…don't quit on me n-" Before he could even finish his sentence, the panther appears to…explode, his armoured form vanishing in a massive cloud of shimmering dust with a loud BOOM. The amorphous haze of silver particles covers the area with a supernatural veracity, frightening off any traces of local fauna. The sheer force of the dispersal sends him careening away from his foe, before he lands with a soft thud somewhere within the scintillating cloud, giving him time to recover and ready himself for his next move. Timeless Chorus would keep his lungs, eyes, and mucous membranes safe, but unless Eboric has a countermeasure, he may not be so lucky. Not quite how he had planned it, but there was nothing for it now. The feline emits a soft grunt, echoing strangely in the area, as another wave of pain radiates from his shoulder.

Eboric leaps back at the first hint of the explosion, twisting as he falls to collapse, face-down, on the ground. As the first wave of silver washes over him, he begins to feel a burning, itching sensation, and swiftly shuts his eyes tightly, holding his breath. Even so, the pain intensifies, irritating any exposed skin almost instantaneously. All the same, the werebear pulls himself to his feet, cracking an eye open to check that the air has cleared. Finding it so, he exhales, sucking in a new gasp of the mostly-clean air, and turns his gaze on his foe. With a roar, he drives forward, spurred on by a strange mixture of rage, joy, and the overwhelming desire to destroy his enemy, who has unleashed this stinging, burning pain. He hammers his seaxe out, the blade following the same course as it had before; a sign of fatigue, perhaps. But, at the last moment, the blow drops, slicing the air just short of the feline's injured shoulder, for the repeat blow had been merely a feint! The deadly blade blade of Eidhur again darts out, swinging in from the other side in an attempt to strike through the strange armor just above the hip, where the ancient weapon can bite in through soft flesh and fragile organs, until it reaches the spine. For good measure, the warrior takes another step in, ramming his head forward and down in hopes of cracking the smaller man in the face with a vicious headbutt, a blow designed to send the feline to his knees, if he is not already downed from a sliced gut.

Kumorohyou || As the silver powder clears, the form standing before Eboric's mad lunge is a little different, though he may still recognize it in his fury. Like some strange combination of a gorilla, a werewolf, and a panther, the humanoid feline stands at almost 8' 6", his large hulking arms ending hands that could wrap around a man's skull. Each finger was tipped with a menacing claw, the nails giving off a metallic reflection, as if they had been coated in silver. Kumori had just enough time to transform before his foe closed in on him. Amber eyes lock on the barbarian's central mass, calculating which direction Eidhur was bearing down on him from. Rather than step back, the hulking feline steps forward, intent on catching the man's arm closer to the elbow where there was less kinetic energy to content with, before bringing his other silver-tipped hand down, intent on mauling his opponent in the neck.

Eboric, having seen this unprecedented transformation before, although at the time he had not know who it was, once more loses no time in adjusting. He takes the hit to the elbow, only barely managing to keep his grip on the sword, and spins away, his wrenched limb hanging loosely as he moves, stumbling rather than dancing away from the other paw, so that the dangerous nails strike sparks from the mithril down the front of the hauberk, although not with enough force to tear the precious metal. Bringing the seaxe up once more, Eboric pauses for a moment to regain his breath, watching the creature warily.


Tiphareth said, "ooc: The winner is Eboric"


Eboric springs forward once more, rushing his foe with his last ounce of speed, aiming his shoulder just at the right point to send the creature over and down to sprawl on the trampled grass, where he is met with a solid punch from the warlord's fist, wrapped around the seaxe's hilt. Satisfied that his enemy is defeated, a fact gleaned from the sudden limpness of Kumorohyou's limbs, the werebear sheathes his weapons, hauls up his hauberk, and urinates on his downed opponent, robbing him of dignity as well as victory. Sheathing this last weapon, Eboric removes his helmet and grins scornfully down at the shape-shifted feline. "And now," he says, "You will leave your worthless clan, and if I catch you so much as speaking to one of my thegns, I will kill you. Do not test me." And, picking up his axe, the victorious warrior stride from the field, marching toward where the waiting spirits stand.