Duel:Jerica v Jerralith
Duel Info
- Judges: Vaidhe, Thea, Merrien
- Stakes: OOCFC Round 1 Advancement
- Assigned Duel Details: Naga Knight
- Rd/time: 3rds / 15 min
- Date:
- Venue: Morg's Pub
- Decision: Jerralith
Venue
Jerralith vs Jerica
Jerralith slithers into the establishment, the door clattering shut noisily in his wake. The naga's three-pronged trident is held firm in the grasp of both hands, his knuckles going white at the sight of his most despised rival; honor is in short supply this day, for a female naga's heart is at stake and neither he nor this fellow knight were willing to back down. "This has gone on for far too long, friend. On this day I challenge you to a duel. When I am proven the winner, you will bow to me, and then she will know whom her only true suitor may be. You are unworthy, and this I shall prove!" Driving the butt of the weapon into the tavern floor, it sends tables and chairs nearby rattling in what could be construed as an official commencement to this bout. Giving his foe no further warning, he snakes forth, carelessly swatting aside obstacles with his tail until he's right upon his rival, a sharp hiss of anger betraying the incoming assault. The trident is led into a low feint beneath the other naga's humanoid torso, but the true assault comes higher; all of his weight is forced into a high thrust, aiming to drive the wicked prongs of his weapon right through his adversary's throat and end this charade of a feud in one swift stroke.
Jerica :: Brogan had been expecting this confrontation for some time now. Holding his pike crosswise over his plated chest the Knight grinned maliciously at the other showing needle sharp teeth in a less than friendly way. "You are correct. It has gone on long enough. I accept your challenge and you will be the one shown unworthy, not I," he hissed. Ignoring the flying debris behind Jerralith, Brogan coils his long tail in order to bring himself well above his opponent so that when the trident at first came in low he could weave out of the way of the wicked prongs intent on what he thought was to scewer him. Hissing at the sudden change in direction the pike's shaft is thrust to tangle between the prongs as it skitters off the plate of armor. Heaving forward, a stone with runes etched upon its smoothed surface that hangs from Brogan's thick powerful neck flairs to life with a bright light meant to temporarily blind Jerralith. Taking advantage of what he hopes to be a moment of disorientation from the light and the hard thrust of pike against trident, Brogan whips the end of his tail around aiming for the Knight's side between ribs and hips in an attempt to land a hard kidney hit. Twisting his torso at the same time, Brogan retreats only far enough to untangle the weapons and thrust the two foot end of metal at Jerralith's own throat.
Jerralith grits his teeth as the weapons become entangled, all too eager to test his strength against Brogan's own and prove it superior. Sadly, the flash of light is completely unexpected! It sears his eyes and leaves him hissing not only in agony, but that his rival would stoop to using such underhanded tactics. Momentarily blinded, he can only hear the tail sweeping in and readies his body, scowling as it slams into his side and sends him sliding right into a thankfully long vacated table, goblets and mugs sent crashing to the floor in a shower of glassy shards. His eyesight only slowly returns, blinking rapidly at the sight of the pike paving a lethal path for his neck; despite his state, the knight can only smile as the triple-pronged trident comes to ensnare the pike, stopping it short of claiming that fleshly sheathe. With a twist of his arms, Jerralith seeks to wrench the pike from Brogan's grasp and rob him of his only weapon. Being that it simply cannot be his only attack, one's attention is drawn to the pendant dangling from the naga's own neck, a very familiar rune eteched onto the unknown metal. The artifact shimmers before the meager magical properties come into play, a simple orb of flame coalescing into existence before them. It sizzles through the air as it flies forth, aiming to crash right into Brogan's shoulder and make it that much more likely he will be rendered weaponless and utterly defenseless.
Jerica :: Brogan roars his rage to the ceiling and yellow eyes seeth with hatred as they land upon Jerralith. Once more their weapons have clashed and his own is torn from his grip. The resulting rocking of his torso means that the ball of fire scores across his upper arm, cautorizing as it passes through and leaving a gash through muscle and tendon. To think that he is defenseless while without a weapon is utter foolishness. Brogan's tail undulates side to side, propelling him forward and his hands come up to try and grapple the Trident from Jerralith, twisting as far as his injured arm can and ignoring the agony radiating from the burn. Baring those needle like teeth again, the naga simultanously lunges forward towards an exposed throat with the idea of ripping and tearing the veins and arteries.
Jerralith gives a victorious cry as Brogan's weapon is wreched aside, feeling that his triumph is only moments away. However, his rival surely has tenacity if nothing else, as evidenced by him bounding so recklessly toward an armed opponent. The other naga does indeed find a hand on his trident, but Jerralith is uninjured, and his strength is likely greater for it, slowly shoving his opponent back inch-by-inch. Brogan's barbarous bite is slightly off target as he is not as close as he might hope to be, but those vicious teeth do find hold in his shoulder not so far from his precious neck, making him hiss so venomously with hatred for his foe. Rivulets of blood trickle down the naga's shoulder, but he is unbeaten yet, gritting his teeth tightly as he presses the harmless haft of his trident into Brogan's shoulder, seeking to push him away. What comes next is a calculated pair of blows; the first is Jerralith thrusting his skull forth for Brogan's own, aiming to smash right into it and force him to release his toothy hold, and the second is his tail whipping out from the side, intending to crash into and send his hopefully loosened rival sprawling right into the bar in a beaten heap.
Jerica :: Brogan's muscles rippled beneath his skin and his tail whipped back and forth in response to the pain and finally having drawn blood from his adversary. The triumph was not long lived as the pain in his shoulder flared even stronger with the press of the trident against the injury. Immediately the hold of teeth is released and he turned away just in time to catch a glancing blow across his cheek. Bone cracked, Brogan slid back and twisted his body to bring the weight and power of his snake half bearing down on Jerralith. The whip thin end aimed for the knight's throat to wrap and choke him into unconsciousness or death. Death, now that would be ultimate victory to show the female whom of the two were most worthy. If he was swift enough and could hold long enough.
Jerralith cries out in pain when Brogan releases his toothy grip, a spray of crimson exuding from the wound. The blood trickles down, some drops dripping and tainting his forged breastplate, etched with an engraving of some long dead yet powerful naga, perhaps his father or some other outstanding warrior. Just as Brogan slides back, Jerralith slithers away and narrowly avoids being caught around the throat, thrusting his trident up in the assumption of a defensive stance; the tail of his most hated rival coils around the haft of the weapon, and due to his own wounded shoulder, he cannot bear to keep grip and releases it from his grasp. Desperate to not be found weaponless, Jerralith's own tail snags Brogan's fallen pike and brings it to his side, snatching the weapon up in his fresher arm and readying himself for the battle to continue, should it be necessary...