Duel:Irin v Kasyr
Split decision in the favor of Irin, 2-1. Judges were Vesyn, Sauldur, and Ontor as mid.
Irin begins by standing beneath the shade of one of the towering palm trees that line the saving grace of desert travelers, the hermit's six-foot weapon known as Shynt'eyl held by his side as he stares across at the tiefling before him. A sand-bestowed breeze picks up, sending ripples flowing across the face of the oasis' pool before the demi-feline as the calm before the battle is broken by the quick steps that spew sand behind the man draw Irin closer to his opponent. Never one to waste time when battle has begun, the demi-feline extends Shynt'eyl's serrated head into the soft ground as he speeds towards Kasyr before drawing both arms upwards and across the hermit's chest, the brand held within bandaged hands following suit as a spray of sand is sent forth into the face of Kasyr. As this simple motion is completed, the demi-feline continues his assault having hoped that the shower of sand proved successful in distracting the demi-imp long enough for the hermit to use his own speed to place himself behind the man before arcing his weapon downward across the backside of his foe in hopes of not bisecting him but dealing enough damage with the single strike to cripple him for the rest of the time it would take to complete this bout.
Kasyr simply adjusted the glimmering brass object which he wore upon his hands, the enforcer's weapon having been chosen en lieu of Gospel for obvious reasons. It was during these last minute preparations that he lifted his face up to espy Irin bearing down upon his position swiftly, a sight to see that evoked little more than quiet 'Merde' from the hybrid imp. And then it came, myraid particles of sand scattered into the air which he cannot help but impulsively block by casting his right arm across his face, unfortunately obscuring the sight of the feline's ruse as he evaded blinding himself. It was only through the subtle sound of sand stirring behind him and the swish of air parted by cleaving edge that he even becomes aware of what was underway, his swift step forward unfortunately too late. Sanguine gushed forth into the air, staining the back of the shorn trenchcoat as he whirls about on his heels, a barely suppressed grunt of pain held back by gritted teeth as he seeks for a firm foothold on the ground. It hadn't been enough to disable him, but it hurt, and both wind and grains of dust transported therein only aggravated the unpleasent sensation. Thus, with little remorse he pressed forth, head ducking low as he swung his right arm in, seemingly aiming a punch towards Irin's left shoulder, hoping his proximity make make a proper defense difficult- and also rather counting on the fact that a simple withdrawing of that very same punch prior to impact coupled with a step forward and forceful thrust of it towards the center of his torso would further aggravate the situation. Regardless of the outcome, he'd be quite swift in taking another step forth, body dipping down as though preparing to charge into him before he'd quite simply take a swift slide to the left and flail his left first out towards Irin's kidney in passing.
Irin allows no pleasant sneer or smile to pass his visage as both his spray of sand and his attack work well enough to score a hit upon Kasyr's backside, the actions of battle not something held in high regard in the hermit's own mind. Not halting any movement of his downward slash as this range the hermit continues the motion of his scythe-like weapon and by using the momentum of the heavy head attached to the shaft he had already begun backwards steps when Kasyr's retaliation had begun. With no manner of shielding himself completely from the jab aimed for his right shoulder, the demi-feline turns his body to the right in order to deflect the blow partially off the side of his shoulder as opposed to taking the hit full on. This movement, however, proves quite a mistake as well as a blessing as the second strike from Kasyr catches not his kidney but his gut instead. Coughing as the breath in his lungs is suddenly forced out and replaced by sharp pain within his abdomen, Irin staggers back for a moment before his bandaged fingers work feverishly upon the shaft of his brand, twisting and pressing certain areas along its apparently smooth exterior to enable hidden mechanisms within the hollow metal rod. Focusing moreso on the lower third of the weapon them hermit give a final counter-clockwise twist of his hands to break this portion away from the rest. Discarding the top two-thirds of Shynt'eyl for the time being the demi-feline directs his strength in opposing directions upon either end of the piece held in his hands to reveal a pair of thin short swords cleverly hidden within his complete weapon. Close range combat at hand, the hermit coughs once more as his vision begins to blur before resuming his part in battle. Both hands carrying a weapon now, the razor-sharp brands are extended behind along with the arms of Irin as he closes the gap once more before first striking with an upward slash of the right arm. Following this motion comes a side-step, a twist of the outstretched arm before bringing that same hand across the gut of Kasyr while simultaneously bringing the second implement of battle into play in the way of a jab aimed for the right thigh of the tiefling in another attempt to disable the movement of his foe. As a manner of catching Kasyr off-guard to bring the fight to a point where even jabs become hard to use, the demi-feline lowers his right shoulder to charges for the hopefully wounded gut of the hybrid before him to even out the damage given to himself.
Kasyr , as opposed to his demi-feline aggressor, was not above taunting, goadings and other such pleasentries. It was a fact indicated all too well but the bitter fragments of a lunatics laughter following the successful volley of blows, "Et how do tu like th-" Cutting off upon sight of that furious motion which resulted in the lightning quick disassembly of Irin's weapon and the retrieval of a new pair of arnaments, the tiefling suddenly didn't feel so assured, his back seeming to ache all the much more as he eyed those glimmering blades. Believing discretion to be the wisest course to take now, he falls into an awkward backpedal, feet nearly tripping over another as his hands lift up before himself, as though his arms could possibly serve as any real barrier between himself and his foe. The slash comes first and Kasyr simply continues his defensive retreat, narrowly evading getting his chest carved open like a festive turkey though the follow up is not so easily averted, that sidelong strike trailing a crimson line through clothe and flesh, the twin strike to his thigh only barely averted by a rapid drop of his right arm to knock the bladed device aside, garnering himself an unpleasent trail of shorn skin upon that appendage in return. Rage seeped into his vision, blinding him and tainting his judgement at the new pain which wracked his form and it was with a reborn vigor that he swiftly switched tactics. Rather then evade the oncoming charge, he quite simply clasped both his hands together and brings the joined fists down towards the back of the bipedal kitten's head, towards the base of his skull. It wasn't an action to be accompanied by itself however, for a moment after, Kasyrs left knee would shoot up to hopefully catch Irin in the jaw and use his momentum against him- instrumental in setting him up for one last bit of mischief, as the demi-imp fully intending on then bringing both hands down upon his foe's shoulder should he have been halted or at least slowed, and quite simply hop backwards, hopefully wrenching the man from his feet and making him quite vulnerable to a foot promptly planted into his stomach. If all goes well, he'd launch the cat and wind him a fair bit too.
Irin remains level-headed and aware throughout his actions, making good use of his heightened sense of hearing to keep him aware of movements such as those used by the hybrid imp in reaction to his bull-rush after a few successful strikes of his blades. The sand sucking his feet slows his movements already but in addition to the previous blow to the stomach the hermit's dexterity is imposed upon thus limiting his attempts to evade the series of attacks to few options. Seconds before his shoulder would have reached its intended target the demi-feline begins to alter his movements into a somersault with which he may be able to dodge the first hell-bound blow from Kasyr, the hermit's flowing hair the only thing that receives the hammering strike intended for his neck. Unfortunately, that kick sent in unison with the attack does strike true with the right shoulder of Irin, a sickening crack heard as the collarbone is snapped without much hesitation before the jagged tip can be seen protruding forth from the black shirt worn by the hermit. The opposing forces begin to negate one another as Irin's form lands facing upwards at Kasyr's reaching hands as they attempt in vain to grab at the hermit's now earth-bound shoulder. Unable to make use of his right arm in this condition, the man instead goes for the closest area he can reach in which to cause the greatest amount of damage, the groin. Releasing the blade held in his left hand, the hybrid clenches the bandaged fingers together into a fist before it is sent with as much force as he can manage while lying on the ground before bending both knees to bring himself upright with another blow aimed for the same area, a headbutt of all things. Should these attacks reach their intended target, a moment to distance the pair would be allotted with which the hermit might make one final adjustment to his swordplay as the sword held in his limp right hand had been transferred to his left while awaiting another attack from the tiefling with the tip of the weapon held facing the man should the pain to the family jewels have subsided enough to allow such a thing. If not, Irin seems to have found himself in the worst possible position to be imagined against a fighter such as Kasyr, ready to be sat upon and pummeled relentlessly by knuckles topped with brass rings.
Kasyr was in a sense fortunate to have failed at the grasp, as the repercussion of landing upon his back in a mound of sand with an open wound would have surely been of an agony most incredible- the likes of which is instead replaced with the most incredible display of celerity by a sharp pain in his groin, maybe he should have invested in some form of armour there "Cheap F~" And on the angered and barely coherant shouts would go, even as Irin adjusted himself to an upright position, hands having simply moved to cup the throbbing area, his other wounds seemingly trival to that most acute suffering felt currently. Then the cat's head jut forth and desperation set in anew, hands formerly coveting his wedding tackle to ensure it was whole were instead driven forth to grab at irin's head, more specifically to lace fingers in hair and ears and give him a sharp tug into the path of yet another oncoming knee, rather intent upon then simply collapsing upon the rival warrior. In that undignified state, tangled if all went well, right hand would be freed from the Demi-feline's hair if only to be launched brutally towards the opposing man's throat, all his strength mustered towards a pair of wrath laced retaliations made in tandem with a sharp jerk of that hand of the left so as to make him more vulnerable. Regardless, at the end of these exertions, he'd then simply collapse, bleeding and swearing in both Shesryn and common dialects as colourfully as he could manage, the subtle swirl of wind borne sand only making him louder and more obnoxious in diction.
Irin slightly dazes himself with the strike of the head after landing his first somewhat cheap shot in which time he finds his left ear and the hair on the right side of his head bound by a vice-like grip. Even without these to hold his head still the knee would have surely landed a clean blow but the forward motion that his face was headed only served to amplify the damage received to the point of breaking his nose sending forth twin rivers of mucous and crimson liquid from his nostrils. At the snapping of his hair the demi-feline feels another change of direction as his head is forced to angle itself in a way that reveals his tender neck to any form of attack wished by his foe. Using what strength he could muster after taking such a strike to the face the hermit wrenches his ear free of Kasyr's grasp at the expense of a tear and several lacerations from the sand-covered nails of the tiefling. Falling onto his back as what may have proved a fatal punch whisks past his bloodied face, the body of Kasyr falls atop his own whereafter muffled sounds of what can only be assumed to be curses reach his ears. As the sand invades his damaged ear curses of his own begin to sound forth, a rather comical scene to any whom glance upon it as two beaten men lie in the sand cursing as best they can manage.