Duel:Gunnar v Kazuma (DD)
Death Duel
Kelay Way
Rules - 10 Minute Post Time, 3 Rounds, Final Defence, Winner gets killing post.
Judges - Cayl, Zaros, Tiphareth (MID)
Winner - Gunnar 3-0
Post Times: Kazuma : 8 (12:24 AM-12:32 AM) 9 (12:44 AM-12:53 AM) 7 (1:06 AM-1:13 AM) (Infinate) Gunnar: 6 (12:35 AM -12:41 AM) 10 (12:54 AM - 1:04 AM) 10 (1:15 AM - 1:25 AM)
Kazuma casually walks out of the tavern closely following the frost giant Gunnar. As soon as the cool night air hits the vampire's face, he steps back a bit to give himself some room for his attacks. After all one knows you do not follow too closely behind a giant otherwise you risk getting stepped on. From behind his dark visor, violent blood red eyes gaze closely upon his foe as his right hand quickly moves towards his left hip, gauntleted fingers closing about the hilt of his favored and most trusted weapon, the jagged longsword Oblivion granted to him by his long dead older brother. Quicly the blade is drawn from its sheath, the well taken care of jagged blade reflecting the glow of the soft moonlight. Bringing the blade to about chest level, the vampire focuses some of the heat energy he had gathered earlier into the blade, causing it to begin to glow an ominous red as the metal begins to heat up steadily. He would have to ensure he gave it his all in this fight, lest he surely lose his life. Bringing the red blade up to about chest level, the vampire makes his move and charges towards the frost giant using the speed vampirekind is known for. As he runs, his right arm is lifted, raising the blade above his head as he charges. Upon nearing his opponent, the spellblade dives downward into a slide, moving toward the left foot of his opponent, and once within striking distance, forcefully swings the searing blade towards his foe's ankle, releasing some of the heat energy from the blade towards his foe in the process, sending several small bright orange flames towards the calf of the same foot he had struck. Hoping it would be enough to at least hinder his opponent's moves, the vampire quickly gets up from the ground and raises his blade into a defensive stance, praying to whatever god,goddess,or Ascendi that would be listening that his attack had some effect.
Gunnar Strombeard, Standard Bearer to the Current Champion of Frostmaw; Vornir Brimirson, stands as a stalwart sentinel of his race. The northern warrior's massive form is covered from head to toe in the chaotically imbued armor of the Legions of Cire, prizes won from the warrior's campain against the Goddess of Chaos' invasion only a few moths prior. Upon the mighty giant's back rest three javelins, all of which have heads forged out of adamantium and coated in the rare ore known as quicksilver. Strapped upon his left hip is his father's fabled short-handled warhammer, nicknamed the Warhammer of Western Storms for its electrical properties that add to the massive hammer's lethality. Forged of the native ore of Frostmaw, blue iron, this relic is engraved with the holy symbols of Gunnar's chosen diety, Aramoth the High God of War. An as this long awaited battle begins with Kazuma's attack, Gunnar draws forth one of the three javelin's from his back, the smooth polished handle gripped firmly within the platted leather gauntlets that adorn the giant's powerful hands. The weapon is a mere six feet long, small to the giant, but large to most normal sized beings. The vampire's speed is far greater than the slow reaction time of the giant, and so Kazuma find success in his attack, his flame sheated blade digging into the armoured portion of his calf and sliding up the dark hued-metal of his leggings, the flames kissing his thick skin underneath. Sparks erupts off Gunnar's calf, as the flames begin to devour any exposed flesh it can find. A pain filled roar escapes the frostmaw native, flame being the element his people hate the most. The sickening smell of burning hair, flesh and leather fill the night air as Gunnar twists his body about, trying to get abetter view of his speedy advisory. Once his gaze locks upon the pyromancers form, the javelin is launched forth with as much strength as the giant can muster. The tip of the weapon aimed to impale the vampire in his heart, the intention being to end his life with a single well placed blow. The quicksilver would act as a neutralizer to any magical shield Kazuma has in place, as the rare material is capable of defeating such enchantment. If Kazuma was not quick, he would find himself impaled by a most vicious weapon, if not dead...
Kazuma 's eyes widen in surprise at the massive size of the giant's javelin. He had of course fought many opponents much larger than he...except Gunnar was the first giant he had faced. As the tip of the javelin nears,naturally, the first reaction the spellblade would have is to focus energy about his body, pure mana sparking like lightning as it cirlces about his body until a red aura surrounds him, his spirit field finally complete. However as the tip of the javelin edges closer and his shield does nothing, slight panic can be read in his eyes as the tip drives closer and closer to his chest. Moving at the last possible second, the vampire dives toward the left, the tip of the spear combined with the sheer might of the giant breaking the armor around his left shoulder, as well as his left shoulder itself. A sickening sound of crunching steel and bones, as well as the bloodcurdling scream of pain from the vampire's mouth emanates throughout the land. Several owls flutter off towards the forest as the vampire screams. Deep,hate filled eyes stare up at the assailant as the vampire looks up at his opponent, dark blood staining the ground beneath him red. Angrily the vampire tosses his sword to the ground and channels large amounts of heat energy into his right palm, wanting to ensure that the giant would suffer for shattering his left shoulder. Once again pure mana sparks about his hand as the atttack charges, the force coming behind this attack would cause those crimson optics to shine excitedly. Several moments pass before the vampire releases his attack. Forcefully his right palm is brought towards the ground, releasing a large stream of bright orange flame towards the ground. Instead of moving to one spot like most flames would, it would be here Kazuma exercises his control over the flames, causing them to shoot towards his opponent and erupt from a steady stream, to a violent wave of orange and red. Smoke soon fills the area as the flames charge towards Gunnar, the smoke hopefully providing the cover the vampire would need to conceal himself from the giant.
Gunnar visage twists into a grim fascade of disappointment and rage as Kazuma evade a most certain death yet again. His actions against the one known as Rowen fuel the frost giant's intentions of ending this cowards life here and now. His left leg's wounds slow his movement, but do not deter his motavation. The javelin is arched back once again as Kazuma dives away from his blow, the weapon now stained with the vampire's foul blood, the spawn of Elazul's vitae dripping from the keen edge of the ranged weapon steadily. As the once human begins to fall into his castings, Gunnar aims the javelin once again, and with steady aim unleashes the deadly weapon from his powerful grip, the projectile flying through the night air with surprising celerity. Once again the quicksilver coated tip comes into play, the magically created flames having no effect in stopping the spear-like weapon from reaching its target. The steel shaft becomes heated, and glows white-hot as it nears Kazuma's form. Gunnar would never know if it found its mark, as his opponent suddenly vanishes from sight admist a thick cloud of smoke. Blood oozes out of the charred skin that now sticks to the chainmail that lies underneath his leggings, as the flames near,the son of Gunther Stormbeard utilizing his massive bulk and tremendous strength to propel himself to the side, the giant not having to much room to escape the spellblade's flames, his entire right side is hit by the torrent unleashed upon him, the force of the assault sending the massive warrior tumbling to the ground in a smoldering heap. Several moment go by before he rises, Kazuma's form still shrouded within the viel of smoke he has conjurde. The giant now opts to try a new apporach, and brings forth his fabled hammer from his side. Confidence fills the giant as he grips his father's weapon. With the power only his race can boast of, Gunnar unleashes the might of the Warhammer of Western Storms upon Kazuma, the coward who dares to attack childrem. The large weapon launches from his right hand, and instantly sheathes itself in elctrical currents. This attack now becomes a triple threat, as Gunnar's aim is not precise, but if Kazuma is within a 10 foot radius, he would become a target of the lightning bolts surround the massive hammer. The electrical enchantments seek to scourge flesh from bone, the hammer's aim to crush anything within the cloud of smoke the cowardly vampire now hides in... May Aramoth bring slarity to his aim this day...
Kazuma smirks as he thinks himself to be safe from the stupid giant, that is until he feels something strange course through is body, followed by sharp jolts of pain that steadily increase. Gunnar's javelin had missed its' mark entirely, but the lightining bolts from the hammer had not. The smell of singed hair and dead flesh soon fill the air as the vampire's body suffers from the shock of the hammer. His breathing now ragged, the vampire quickly yanks the pouch Nasurate had given him, using sheer will power to stay alive. The sound of rushing air soon reaches his ears as the hammer of Vuryal's giant breaks through the cloud of smoke, the spellblade backing away quickly, doing his best to ignore the pain from both shoulder and shock. His armor now cracked and shattered in several places, save for the Chaos armor, the vampire stands against the outer wall of the tavern, pouch full of Nasurate's enchanted sand clutched tightly in his palm. Lifting the bag to his mouth, the vampire would use his teeth to rip open the pouch, the enchanted sand inside glittering brightly. "Hope this has some use Nas....." mutters the pyromancer under his breath as he drops to a knee and forcefully swings the now opened pouch towards Gunnar, releasing the enchanted sand in a large dust cloud towards his opponent. Remembering that some of the sand was explosive, the vampire then gets an idea. Tossing the now empty pouch to the side, his right hand is lifted into the air once more, and using the reserves of both strength,mana,and heat energy, releases a small fireball into the dust cloud, causing the enchanted sand to react. Quickly the sand ignites ablaze, the explosive enchantment quickly taking effect as the sand is heated. A loud and thunderous boom can be heard throughout the land as the explosion kicks off with a force that would send even the heaviest dragon flying backward. Kazuma himself is sent from his post on the tavern's outer wall into a nearby tree, hitting his head with a harsh thud. Doing his best to recover, the vampire watches with double vision as his attack kicks off, praying to the gods that it is enough to save himself.
Gunnar watches and waits as his hammer vanishes into the cloud of smoke the coward now hides in, the giant's face forming into a smirk of malign glee as the pain filled screams of Kazuma reach his ears. But before too much celebration can be had, the vampire unleashes his explosive cloud of sand, the vile combination of enchanted sands and fire creating enough force to send Gunnar hurtling backwards some hundred feet of so. The mighty warrior crashes into a small hut on the opposite side of the street, his armoured covered form splintering the foundation of the peasant's home, as well as cracking a few of his ribs in the porcess. Another howl of pain escapes the seasoned veteran of a hundred battles, the breaking of bones being of no minor effect. His right arm still stiff from its healing process, as well as from the severe burns recieved from the torrent unleashed only minutes ago, is useless is aiding his rise from the shambles of the now destroyed hut. Using what little strength he has left, Gunnar rises by rolling away from the debris, using his left arm to propel himself up and back upon his feet. His ears ring, his left leg continues to gush blood and plasma, and his right arm has gone numb from the pain. Even his right eye has begun to shut from swelling, but still the giant presses on. From his back he brings forth another of the quicksilver coated javelins' the giant using the last bit of his strength to charge his opponent, who is now visible due to the explosion blowing away his concealment, and lunges the javelin towards his gut with tremendous force, the warrior hoping now that the spellblade has used the last of his reserve mana, he would be defenceless, and open for this straightforward attack. Should Kazuma not find means to evade this assault, he would be impaled with enough force to drive the entire weapon straight through his slender form...
Kazuma remains there on the ground momentarily as he does his best to catch his breath, the pain from his shattered right shoulder and the shock from Gunnar's hammer proving to be a bit much than the vampire can handle. However, he wasn't determined to lose this battle just yet, he had to survive...if not to at least get one last good look at the damage he had done to the giant. Shakily, leaning his right hand against a nearby tree, the vampire brings himself to his knees and unsheathes his last weapon and means of defense, his Runic Chaos Stave. Pure adrenaline pumps through his body as Gunnar's Javelin nears him, the Stave is brought in front of his body as he dives off to the right, blood running down from his shoulders and legs, narrowly avoiding the tip of the javelin and forcefully brings teh stave down upon the javelin using what remains of his vampiric strength to shove it aside, but at the cost of his stave shattering in two. It had been a good fight, but what happens now would be left up to fate. Would he die, or would Gunnar?
Gunnar 's blow goes unhindered by the vampire's attempted parry, the strength of the Frost Giant still far greater than that of the
vampire, even in their weakened states. Gunnar's javelin is thrusted into the bowels of the loud mouth braggart, the frost giant lifting him
up off the ground, still alive, and squirming. " You've caused my Emperor quite a headache fool, now you shall be mad example of for all
to see." With this said, the Standard Bearer brings his fallen advisory closer to him, and with what little strength he could, punched the
pyromancer square in the mouth, knocking the entire front row of his teeth out, as well as dislocating his jaw. Blood coats the plated
gauntlet that adorns his fist now, a vile look of disdain for this man covering the warrior battle hardened visage. " That was for Rowen
fool." Again the giant lands a powerful blow upon the vampire's now bloodied face, breaking his nose as well as left eye socket. " Thats
for your smart ass mouth." And as Kazuma begins to fade into oblivion, his blood draining from his form at a rapid pace, Gunnar cocks
back his fist once more, the spike that protrudes from his gauntlet extending upon its master request, the chaotic energies making this
possible. " And this, you damn fool, is for the good Lady Awne!" As these words escape past the giant's lips, Gunnar's fist drives the
metallic spike straight through the fool skull, the tip protruding out the other side coated in bits of skull fragments and brain matter.
Kazuma's lifeless body still twitches in spasms as it hangs from the end of Gunnar's javelin, the foolish vampire's life ending in a bloody
display of gore and barbaric violence.
Vornir unwraps the object that had been strapped to his back: the Scythe of Xaneroth. Created by a dark god, capable of stealing souls, the Scythe is now used as a tool of Judgment, Judgment meted out by the Paladin of Aramoth. Slowly the giant makes his way to the center of the carnage, each moment of holding the naked Scythe an uphill battle. With an effort, he plants the butt of the weapon in the ground, forcing his willpower into the woeful weapon. A sighing sound fills the arena as the powers of both paladin and Scythe unite to create a sort of metaphysical vortex. The lingering soul of Nasurate, so swiftly ripped from its form, is now sucked into the Scythe, to join the myriad of others souls that await Judgment.