Duel:Gorkall V Kresh

Judges: Tyron, Yasmine, Sanlig

Winner: Gorkall : 3-0

Gamorg City of Ogres

The legends do not do this location justice. Straddling the dark hills of the Bad Lands is Gamorg the city of Ogres. Many ramshackle huts have been thoughtlessly thrown up onto the landscape by the rough hands of hundreds of ogre's troll's orc's and goblin slaves. There is no other place like this, the air is damp and foul smelling; filled with the stench of hundreds of years of decay and many thousands of tons of troll dung which is used as cement for many of the buildings. Standing defiantly on a hill to the North West is a large spiky rough square structure which is most likely a primitive fortification. Not much can be seen to the east but the smell suggests more trolls. To your infinite surprise in this obscenely foul and ruined place there is civilization the primary species of ogres and orc's appear to be bartering in the street, as well as fighting, arguing drinking swearing and other things too foul to mention, welcome to Gamorg homeland of the Ogres.

Kresh 's beady eyes bore down upon the eight foot tall ogre, bloodlust was all that could be seen within as his hands gripped the massive weapons that were upon his back. The mace in the left, axe in the right as he roared once more, teeth flashing out in plain in sight, as the monstrous sound could be heard by all around. "You hurt brudda! You pay!" The ogre's hands squeezed tightly about the weapon, as he rushed forward towards the smaller one, first the mace swinging forward aiming to smash square into Gorkall's head, hopefully crushing it below the strong swing. His other hand was also moving, not in unison but in a clumsy overhanded swing, as it swung more for the shoulder region of the priest, perhaps cleaving arm from body. As if that wasn't enough, his massive weight kept rushing forward as he swung the weapons, threatening to trample him should he not move from Kresh's path shortly.

Gorkall had lead the way into the entrance of Gamorg. The civilians of the barbaric city gathering around in excitement at the sight of their Champion ready for battle. The earth quaked beneath Kresh's weight as Gorkall stood to turn. The Ogre pulled a very primitive nailed club from his belt and a rather elegant looking staff from his back that held a Demonic-Skull at the crown. It was only a matter of seconds before Kresh had begun to attack. The larger Ogres weapons were rapidly approaching Gorkall, leaving the smaller green-skin with little time to react. Bending his knees to drop into a squat the mace flew over Gorkalls head, sending a rush of air past him. As he began to life himself back to his feet he took note of the axe coming down in a heavy arc. Diving to the left Gorkall slammed against the muddied earth of Gamorg. He had managed to dodge both of the blows from Kresh and pulled himself back up. Turning back to face his foe a snarl plagued his visage revealing spiked teeth that bore the remains of Human flesh and stained blood. The Ogre charged towards Kresh who seemed slower than most of his kind due to his size. The Champion raised his spiked club into the air and leapt towards Kresh's right leg. He pulled his blow as hard as he could before thrusting it forward. The weapon aimed to slam into the large calf of the the behemoth. If the contact were to make blow Gorkall would then instantly jerk it in a downward motion to rip it out of his opponents hide, hoping to throw off his balance.

Kresh bellowed loudly as his attacks were easily evaded by the smaller ogre. Head swiveled about as beady eyes searched for his attacker once more, the large body following the action of the head in a much slower fashion. As the weapon struck into Kresh's leg, it hit the side of it instead of behind like the attack was intended, the downward motion sending Kresh stumbling to the side until his inevitable fall. The behemoth fell to the ground, the earth shuddering once more as the abnormally large ogre landed upon it. His mind was clear, void of any and all thoughts but one, his only idea to kill the pestilent man that continued to harass him with these attacks. As the weapons bit into the ground, he pushed himself to his feet once more as his eyes spotted his foe once again. This time his tactics changed, as the tree that was upon his back was roped free from it's restraints, the mace that had previously inhabited the hand thrown carelessly, yet forcibly, towards his opponent in an attempt to give Kresh time to stand once more. As the shield finally found it's way upon his hand, his cruel visage worked it's way into a sneer. Left arm flying forward, he attempted to smash the opponent with the shield in an attempt to distract him. His right arm moved once more as he began to wield in a much more expert fashion, the likes of which could only happen from a man who had seen many battles, as the steel flew threw the air in an attempt to decapitate the hopefully dazed ogre.

Gorkall pulled with all of his might to rip the club from Kresh's hide. A smirk presented as the rusty nails ripped at the Ogre's leg and blood began to flow. His dull-gray eyes surveyed his weapon to find a small chunk of Kresh's meat dangling from the nails as a prize. Little time was given to celebrate as Kresh crashed down beside of Gorkall. The quake nearly causing him to topple over himself. Gorkall decided to put some distance between himself and Kresh as he rose to his feet. The cheering of the Gamorgian Ogres was near deafening as a sudden flash of steel was presented. Gorkall turned to his side quickly to try and dodge the blow and nearly succeeded with the exception of his left hand. A part of the massive mace clipped Gorkalls hand which was covered only in troll-hide. The Demonic-Staff he wielded fell from his grasp as dark crimson blood dripped to the earth below staining the soil a dark black. Gorkall looked to his hand as he gritted his teeth tightly. The appendage had become nearly useless as it seemed to be little more than a meat slab. Though before he had time to think Gorkall was being attacked once more. The large tree-trunk slammed into the ground below in an attempt to crush him. It was a couple of feet away and easily avoided. Deciding to go back to the offensive the horned Ogre charged towards Kresh's shield releasing a war cry as he dove to the defensive armor. He brought his nailed club into an arc once more slamming it into the wooden surface of the shield. Upon sticking Gorkall used the grip to climb up the shield. Removing and slamming his club into the wood the best he could with one hand without falling. As he tried to reach the peak of the object Kresh was moving to reposition it. Nearly falling from his hoist Gorkall did the first action to come to mind by dicing towards Kresh's head. He pulled the club back once more and this time brought it in a down-arc aimed for the skull of Kresh. Hoping to catch a grip on the beings head and proceed to kick him mercilessly, in the eyeball.

Gorkall dropped 1 demonic-skull-tipped staff.

Kresh heard the clamor of the staff as it fell to the ground, eyes searching for the reason only to see his opponent's hand now pained. Sneering at the ogre, his mind rushed with victory, eager to destroy the rest of the foe who so easily evaded him. Yet not all was as it seemed as soon the foe against him began to climb up his shield, Kresh worked furiously shaking his shield, trying to knock him loose from the tree before he could scale it any further. As all efforts failed, the ogre's eyes were now level with that of the enemie's as a club soon found it's way into the excessively overweight ogre's head. As Gorkall gripped tightly to his weapon and began to kick for Kresh's eyes, the warrior released his hold upon his shield, while his other hand dropped the weapon to the ground, moving to defend against the mecriless kicks. Foot after foot descended against Kresh's meaty hand and soon he found himself backing away from the shield, in hopes of removing himself from the onslaught that had been Gorkall's pummeling feet. Suddenly, his body lurched forwards at the tree, more specifically at Gorkall, as he moved to grip tree, ogre, and everything in his path to be gripped beneath him and brought to the ground. Should all of that work out right, the ogre's hands would raise and begin pummeling the earth beneath them, with any luck the opponent who had only moments before been kicking at Kresh would be upon that earth.

Gorkall flailed his legs against Kresh's eyeball. A squish to accompany each blow. Growing fatigued Gorkall began to loose his grip in the club. Trying to grab on with both hands he seemed to of forgotten his battle damage and released a yelp of pain as his hands slipped from the wooden mount. Falling from eighteen feet Gorkall landed on his back. His heavy Guardians armor digging into the muddied ground below. It took all of his might to pull up to get out of the mud pit and stand back to his feet. Gorkall had fallen out of Kreshs grasp but was still about to be pummeled by the behemoth. Now unarmed the only thing he could do was run. As a frenzy of blows began to strike the ground Gorkall jumped out of the way of Kresh's 'Wompa Stomp' and began to make his way back to his staff. The earth was shaking hard from each blow and Gorkall was loosing his balance. Falling over twice it was hard to pick himself back up between the vibrations, injured hand and heavy armor holding him down. Finally reaching his weapon Gorkall gripped the staff with his free hand and turned to face Kresh. The bracers on the Ogre Priest's wrists began to grant a soft blue aura as electrical energy built up into the staff. A soft pray muttered to Aramoth as Gorkall held his hands one over the other. A light blue ball of energy forming as Kresh continued his temper tantrum of flailing. Finishing the prayer Gorkall pulled his arms back and held them over his head before tossing the ball towards Kresh with a loud yelp accompanying it. The electrical orb was small in size compared to most magi and warlocks of Hollow but would still pack a light punch if it made contact with Kresh's cranium, of which it rapidly approached. Gorkall himself fell to the floor in exhaustion from his mana being drained and the ripped flesh on his hand now sizzled from conjuring the energy. Trying to regain his footing Gorkall would simply stand to see if his blow would make contact or if he would still be forced to fight the behemoth of his people.

Kresh continued to pound fist after first into the ground, the earth indenting further with each and every thrust. Blood began to poor from his knuckles at the furious blows continued to slam into it, wanting to crush every inch of life from the ogre who he thought had to be beneath him. After several long moments of the ogre's raged attacks, his mind seemed to settle further, thinking he had destroyed his opponent. Upon standing up once more, he roared loudly, a grin forming upon his hideous face as he turned to face Shreg. "Look, me pound little ogre! He gone now!" The ogre felt firm in his victory as he turned around once more, only to see with his beady little eyes a blue orb flying towards him. The attack slammed hard into the ogre's chest which had been originally aimed for his head as he kneeled downwards, knocking the air clear out of him as he stumbled backwards, arm flailing outwards the grip anything to keep him standing. Upon finding little of anything to keep the ogre upon his feet, he fell backwards, landing hard upon his rear, the earth shuddering once more as the behemoth's weight hit the ground. Eyes looked upon clumsily for the source of his attacker until he finally spotted the smaller ogre, the rage began to flare within his eyes once more until Shreg ran up, small hands pressed firmly upon his chest. "No brudda, stop for now!" He pressed firmly down upon him, hoping the ogre would cease his rage for now. Kresh looked down, anger subsiding as he looked upon his smaller brother, eyes filled with vengeance as he saw the wound which started the fight. Turning towards Gorkall he sneered, "You no ogre! You fight cheap, speak big words!" His hand slammed on the ground in defiance, yet he made no further move to attack, for now.

Gorkall twitched from the shaking of the earth as Kresh fell to the ground below. The Champion of Gamorg bearing a wicked smile as he approached the fallen one. His hand still oozing with blood as he crawled ontop of the larger green skin. He ignored his brother as he made his way to Kresh's head and reached over to his club. Yanking it from it hoist. Shaking his head to the Ogre he spoke in a firm voice. "So long as you are in Gamorg you shall treat myself with respect! Else you'll find yourself on your ass again you big bastard!" Gorkall looked at the bloodied club and laughed before sliding from Kresh's stomach to the ground below. He looked to the brothers and nodded to Dak's Tavern. "Your grub should be ready now boys. Get a move on."