Duel:Gunnar v Iavy (DD)
Stakes: Death
Iavy skips about the northern boundary known solely as Larket, her Green lined optics seem to focus on the now filling bleachers, and the rising smoke stacks just beyond the arena. The petite frame girl appears to be engulfed by the massive vacant space as she hums happily to herself. All this would change in a mere second as she sizes up her foe.A quick doubt drafts thoroughly through her mind as the twenty towers in front of her never the less she seems eager to stand for her beliefs. " I suppose this will be to the end?"Stated with a ever charming velvet voice. Confidently following with" Best of luck big boy." Her ambitions are to take on who ever poses the threat of Archmosia overthrow. The shaman glances to ground as she kicks the supple dirt around a bit trying to figure out the best possible tactics to take down such a behemoth size enemy. Her keen intuitions incline her to think of the giants structure. She realizes that the most suitable attack would be for his neck. After controgering the idea she begins to hum once more. This begin her way to summon. Her tone seems to lower as her eyes direct to the skies. A murder of crows come clear in the visage. each individual pools glowing saphire. The bird. swarm the beast as there talons intend to inflict several gashes on Gunnars throat. Hopefully this will cause him to bleed out.
Gunnar Stormbeard, Standard Bearer to the Champion of Frostmaw and Captain in the Army of the Empire of Archmosia, stands as a stalwart sentinel of his race, the warrior towering within the arena like a behamoth statue. The frost giant's massive frame is garbed in his favored mixture of armors, which consists of both the armor of the invading race of aliens known as the Preklek, and the chaotically imbued armor of the Legions of Cire. Strapped upon the warriors waist is a war-hammer of considerable size, the large head of the weapon made from the rare ore known as blue-iron, which is native to only the mines of the frozen tundra known as Frostmaw. Twin-orbs of a icy-hue peer out from beneath the visor that adorns the giant's battle-worn features, the protective mask fashioned to resemble a screaming demon's face. A smirk plays upon the parched lips of the warrior, as his right hand goes down to grasp the leather-bound, polished oak shaft of his fabled weapon. The runes that are etched into the ancient weapon seem to respond to their master's touch, an azure hue seeming to envelope the mighty hammer that his father passed down to him. A confidence fills the Standard Bearer as he brings forth the war-hammer, which is known as the Warhammer of Western Storms, for its electrical properties that have made it a thing of legend amongst his people. Iavy's lithe form falls under the scrutinizing gaze of the frost giant as she begins her rythmic humming, the warrior womdering by her manurisms if the woman has gone mad. But very quickly the giant recognizes the threat this shaman possess. The birds were seen before they arrived, but due to sheer ignorance they were as quickly discarded. That was the giant's first error in this bout, and one that cost him dearly. The small beaks of the birds assault the frost giant like a hundred small sharp knives, knicks and small cuts tearing the toughed flesh of the northern warrior with ease. Precious vitae now flows from various wounds, several streaks of the giant thick blood falling down his exposed neck in a horrid display of Iavy's power. But soon the large flock of summoned birds leaves, their job here done, and leave a somewhat bewildered Gunnar to gaze once more upon his opponent. " Birds lass?" The warrior finds himself chuckling as he continues. " That the best you can do?" And even before these words leave the parched lips of the frost giant warrior. he launches himself into action. His father's warhammer is arched towards the heavens as Gunnar begins his own assault upon the shaman now, his rage building as the lust of battle takes hold of the berserker. The ancient runes about the fabled hammer flare to life even more so as its wielder now nears his opponent, the weapon's massive blue-iron head become wreathed in electricity that instantly doubles its lethaility. Now gripping the warhammer with both arms, Gunnar unleashes a mighty blow upon the opposer of the empire, his bulging arms giving an incredible strength to the attack. The Warhammer of Western storms flies through the air as nothing more than a blur, the massive weapon aimed to hit the woman square in her midsection, and send her flying into the walls of the arena. The force of the blow could easily cripple, if not kill, the lithe woman, but the danger does not end there, for even a knick of the hammer would prove dangerous, as the electrical enchantments are more than capable of dazing or paralyzing his foe enough for him to ready another attack. Iavy would have to be swift indeed to evade such a calculated blow.
Iavy Trembles as she was foolish to think mere birds would inflict any harm to such a ponderous creatures. As the giant hammer nears the girl she chortles. Her angelic movements were swift and choreographed. She must have factored in the the hammer from the last time they had spoke. Agility had always been one of her more promise attributes, never the less they could easily be taken away if the large blunt was to come into contact. We ease she dance avoiding his blows. He concentration was on the defensive side though she would need to try and stop this forwarding aggression against her. She pondered hard as to what her next could be. This beast would be far more difficult to bring down then she had ever expected. Her little beasts would be no match for the brute strength of the giant so she decides to take a different approach. Quickly she runs in-between the giants legs as she congers a spell that her dear friend Ekimrelyt told her once. " To the day we come on home, To the lives that we stowed, bring us templates of desire onto now I Hialeah fire." As the word priestly leave the girls lips her black specter begins to glow a crimson red. Brighter and brighter the weapon glows until it relinquishes as wall of embers in the upward direction. She muses to her self as she thinks of the possibilities of damage the fire would take.
Gunnar 's teeth clench in anger as the woman so easily dodges his attack as if he were nothing more than a novice, which only fuels the giant's already tremendous rage. As Iavy slithers about like some serpentine creature underneath his massive frame, Gunnar is stricken by an idea. His massive weight now become his weapon, as the woman has so carelessly decided to place herself underneath him. Knowing full well that he was going to injure himself, Gunnar throws his entire body down upon the ground by flinging himself backwards in an attempt to squash the small woman into nothing more than a pile of flesh and broken bones. The flames meet the chaotic breastplate of damnation that the frost giant warrior wears about his muscular frame, and the two meet in a clash of power that burns the giant terribley. The horrific scream that aerupts forth from the Standard Bearer's lips echoes deep into the eternal forest to the west, causing the same flock of birds to leap from their resting place within the trees of the forest and take flight once more out of fear of some unseen force. The smoldering form of the frost giant, who now begins to grow weak from the heat, topples over Iavy's lithe form spead out wide. Indeed she was a fast one, but her speed could be of little use here as she has placed herslef within a most dangerous position. The spikes that adorn the armor he wears only add to the danger of such an assasult, spelling doom for the young woman should she find no way to escape such a horrible situation.
(missing one of the attacks, sorry)
Gunnar falls like an avalanche over Iavy's frail form, the woman somehow managing to live through such an occurance, as was to be commended. Hell, its not everyday a giant, fully armor in a spike-covered attire fall on top of you and you live. But it seems that not only did she live, but she wasn't through! The charred form of the giant wearily looks down towards his feet, his vision blurred from the previous attack, as well as the force of him slamming into the ground. With only moments to think, Gunnar has two choices, either raise his leg and roll out of the way, or let her cut his tendon and smash the bint were she was. He only had a limited amount of strength left in his battered body, so why the hell not at least smash the bitch were she laid. She with the last of his remaining strength, Gunnar raises his warhammer high, trying to remain as quite as he can, and plummets the fabled weapon down with as much force as he can in an attempt to rid himself of the woman once and for all. The dagger meets the exposed flesh of his tendon just as the hammer nears Iavy's crawling from. Another agonizing wail erupts froth, quickly followed by a series of unmentionable swears from the frost gian't blood stained lips. A spray of blood jets out towards Iavy's eyes as her dagger runs through his tendon, though the thick skin and muscle would prove tough for a grown man to cut through. All of Gunnar's hopes in killing the woman lie with his final attack. Damn he wished he had a bottle of whisky after this. He was gonna need a drink.
Iavy gazes at the hammer crashing toward yet again. This time their was no smirk on her face, There was no angelic movements or planning. This could possibly be the the end. Every fiber of her being was pleading with her to move, to do something. Her eye's rolled to the back of her skulls as she reached within her self to do something. Her sweet like charming attitude was now just as vacant as the ground when the ordeal start. " I can do this." Once more pleading with her self. Just this was going on she had a flash back of her sister being beaten to death by the Archmosian slave driver." Was this how she felt? Was this what I was destonded for?....NO! I won't give in! Not Now not ever!" Her self encouragement was now giving her a second wind. "All I have to do is roll out of the way and this will be all over. He'll hit himself with that big old hammer." She giggled now focusing on a 2 foot movement. It would be as is she need to run a marathon with not legs never the less it was only two feet. Her body shifts causing her torso to spin one hundred and eighty degrees pushing her the one foot closer. "One more " she cheered herself on. She completed the second tumble and the gods now would control her fate.
Gunnar Wins: Finishing Move
Gunnar Stormbeard, battered, burned and bleeding emerges into the tavern for the second time this day. His usual swagger seems lost as a limp is now the dominate way this frost giant moves from place to place. The smell of burnt flesh fills the nostrils as the warrior passes, a grim look within his eyes. Strung across his right shoulder is the beaten form of Iavy, the loud mouthed braggart who proclaimed so many threats against the Empire. Without mercy, nor care for her well being the massive warrior tosses the woman on top of the nearest table, where she crashes horribly, bits of the splintered wood piecing her frail flesh and adding the the pain she is already in. Gunnar stare, which seems to hold no emotion, locks upon the woman battered form as he draws forth the cruel dagger made from the ivory tusks of the mammoth. The blade is highly polished blue-iron, and has been sharpened to a razors edge. Without mercy Gunnar thrusts the tip of this marvelous weapon into the belly of his defeated advisary, the blade easily slicing through her flesh and plunging deep within her belly. In one single motion the frostmaw warrior splits open the woman's gut, spilling her innards upon the floor for all to see. The stench of both burst flesh, and intestines fills the tavern as this horrid display of gore begins. Without stopping Gunnar lifts the woman up, pulls out a good length of her insides, and proceeds to wrap the woman's neck with her own intestines. No pity is shown in the warrior face as he lifts the woman high, and proceeds to hang her with her from the rafters. With the loss of her insides, coupled with the large loss of blood, Iavy's weight has decreased dramatically, and so it is now that she hangs from the ceiling by her own guts. A horrid display of brutality and gore, that sends a message to all who oppose the Empire of the Time Lord Vuryal, and his followers. Iavy life slowly drains away as she hangs from the tavern's rafters, the shaman still alive, though barely for only a few minutes more. Gunnar turns to face all present, and says. " Let this be a lesson, to all who wish to start a war with the Empire." And with those words said, the frost giant turns and removes the left hand of the woman, making haste to move to the tavern's board to proclaim his victory for all to see.