Duel:Firewing v Merrien
Duel Info
- Judges: Thea, Rilling, Jerralith
- Stakes: OOCFC Round 1 Advancement
- Assigned Duel Details: Minotaur Chieftans (warriors) with 1 very strong magical melee weapon & well crafted nonmagical armor
- Rd/time: 3rds / 10 min
- Date: 07/16/2012
- Venue: Minotaur Valley (Venturil)
- Decision: Merrien (unanimous)
Venue
Minotaur Valley
A minotaur camp is here.
Merrien vs Firewing
Merrien :: The battleground was the very plains above the valley of their people. 'It is fitting', Kalak thinks to himself as he tightens his grip upon the lightning hewn battleax that had been his sole companion through the years. His dragonscale plate glistens in the evening sun as he roams the plateau, circling his worthy foe. The two Minotaurs had felt this confrontation brewing for many moons, but this was to be the apex, the crescendo. A final battle for dominance over their people. A clash worthy of the honor of ruling. The Minotaur carries his eight foot high frame with a boisterous grace as he moves, obviously not going for a stealth approach as he looks for an opening in his opponent's guard. A warrior's death or a warrior's victory would be had by Kalak this day. Hiding and feigning were coward's saviors. Finally, he makes his move after careful consideration and with a thrust of his battleax skyward, the minotaur is charging his foe. As he approaches the enemy, a storm seems to brew overhead and flashes of lightning descend upon the plain. A large, flat area is perfect for Kalak's element of choice. There is nowhere to hide to escape the thunder's might or the lightning's burn. The charged weapon draws bolts of lightning in a seemingly arbitrary fashion around the other minotaur, attempting a strike as Kalak swings with ferocity, attempting to gash his opponent in the midsection.
Firewing | The sky's clouds were surely itimidating to the massive Makkor. The minotaurs ebony horns were nearly shaking with anticipation as he gazed at his opponent. The massive broadsword strapped to his back was hidden in it's worn leather sheathe. He moved his hands behind him to grasp the handle and slowly draw it. Upon removing the sword from its case, he held it in front of him, starig at his own reflection in the slightly pulsing red runes engraved. He twisted the sword to glare at his opponent with his deep green eyes of freshly cut grass. He breathed in trough his nose as he stood there, the sword, who's name was Heartcarver was already beginning to drain life from the air, making he wind around him dead and cold. The energy-draining sword was ready for battle just as he was. The minotaur roared as he charged in, keeping he sword to his right as he stormed across the ground. He raises it to try and block the strike, yet a small gash entering his left arm, right near his chest. He winces as he hopes to push the sword forward, hopefully to slash the opponent's face.
Merrien :: Kalak seems to flourish in the heat of battle and his eyes take on a passion never seen in the otherwise reserved Minotaur. The sight of his enemy's blood does him pride and as the sword swings towards his face, Kalak cannot help but release a battle cry, loud enough to wake the sleeping in the valley below. The minotaur's battleax comes up in a sweeping arc, drawing down balls of lightning to cascade around the other Minotaur's head and swoop around the battlefield, sweeping across at random intervals, hoping to take the opponent off guard and also serve as a fine distraction for the next blow to be had. The Makkor's strike to the face is successful to a point as it could not be deflected. It leaves Kalak with a gash across his nose and a chunk of hanging flesh. More battle scars and wounds were a testament to the ravages of war, and the Minotaur would wear them with honor. Kalak also felt a bit weaker than he had at the start of the battle...The ax--while not deflecting the Makkor's broadsword--was gearing up for another strike, but not just another slash. This was to be a low sweep at the foe's legs, hoping to either limit his mobility or send him to the ground.
Firewing | Makkor curses at the lightning spjeres that quickly surround him and draws back his sword. He backs up into a ball of lightning and yells loudly as the electricity burns his hair off his back and into his flesh. Anoher ball of lightning flies by his horns and nearly sets his brain with electricity. Distracted by the objects, he doesn't notice the leg sweep and curses at the sweep. How could he have not noticed that!? He feels the axe sink into his lower left calf and feels electricity course through his body. He takes Hertcarver and aims it quickly at his nemesis' own right thigh, planning on tirig his opponent wth he stab, or at least crippling him.
Merrien :: Kalak moves with a grace unexpected in such a large creature as he weaves himself around his own lightning spheres with practiced ease. He sees his distraction volley a resounding success as his ax tastes again of his opponent's blood. The Minotaur is focusing on his next strike when he notices the swing of the broadsword coming towards his leg. Keeping mobility was crucial, as the Minotaur had learned in his most basic warrior training, so he sacrifices a bit of his balance to swing his ax in a downward arc and block the attack. The parry does not, however, spare the warrior the effects of coming into contact with the energy-draining blade and he falls to one knee, breathing heavily. His energy may be draining, but his spirit is strong and the desire to defeat, the desire to lead his people into prosperity is virulent in his eyes as he strikes from his knees at his enemy's already weakened torso in a large, pendulum like sweep from one side to the next. The very gods of the tempest must be listening to Kalak's plea as lightning descends from on high and lights up the night like raging lanterns, all descending towards the Makkor.
Firewing breatges in heavily as he feels the pain of the electricity surging through him. The warrior before him was strong. Very courageous indeed. He probably would let him live, shall he win this fight. His sword burns with the life of the one it had stolen from. It's runes glow red as they are ready to continue. He Grasps its leather grip with his right hand as he notices the man's swing. He can feel his aura in the air rivaling against his own. The minotaur smiles as he takes this last attack, falling to one knee, tilting his sword at such an angle, and swiging inward to interlock his axe and broadsword together, the two of them both interlocked with their own weapons as the lightnig descends at the point of their weapons convergence, both of them being struck by the attack. He closes his eues as he braces the pain, he power intense enough to burn the hair from inside his nose. He feels the electricity scrambling through his veins as he sighs, the last of his air being released.
Merrien :: Kalak seems to have been drained to the last drop by his final attack. All of his being thrown into that last swing and the last conjuration. He grimaces and snarls as both the draining power of his opponent's weapon and his own lightning converge and twist into some new power. One that damages both friend and foe alike as neither Minotaur gives up the ghost. Kalak, already on his knees, watches his enemy release a held breath as the electricity pulses through his veins. The Minotaur finally breaks the hold of the mighty parry and holds his weapon towards the skies, though his eyes droop and his muscles twitch with agony and effort. The attack broken, and his enemy in a similar state of disrepair, the Minotaur finally collapses, though not into the darkness that would welcome him. He keeps ever vigilant for any signs that his foe would give of moving or staging another attack.
Autohit Round
Merrien is also on the verge of total collapse, but manages to lift himself slowly and walk towards his opponent. The fire is draining from his eyes as he looks down to his defeated foe. "I would be honored to meet you in battle once more. You fight with valor, and I shall not end a virtuous fight with a kill. I shall instead leave you with a scar, as is my custom as a warrior. It is so that my foes shall never forget..." he trails off as he raises his ax high and takes one mighty swing that lashes across his opponent's chest and splits one of his pectoral muscles clean and deep. After the strike, the Minotaur turns, and without another word, goes to tell his people the glorious news. They were to have him as a leader.