Duel:Jonn v Meri, Chartsend Fighting Championship

Duelists: Jonn vs. Meri.
Duel: Traditional 3 posts each, with final defense. 15 minute posting limit.
Stakes: Autohit post. Advancement in the Chartsend Fighting Championship.
Judges: Svilfon, Tiphareth and Hildegarde.

Flat Lands

Green and Flat sums this area up nicely, flat and green as far as the eye can see, thick green grass the occasional tree or flower providing homes to the native insects and animal. This place is almost eerily unreal as if some unseen force preserved it in such a way or as is if the whole place was leveled and flattened long enough and all the large plants and hills were simply obliterated to be replaced with swathes of green grass and precious little else. This seems to continue to the south and you can just make out the towers and some of the ruined tall buildings of Venturil to the very distant east.

Meri :: Jonn. Jonn. Who was Jonn? Meri wasn't entirely sure. They have exchanged a few notes, given a few descriptions, agreed upon a time and a place. Meri herself was tall, lean, covered in tattoos and wearing hardly a scrap of armor. The only armor she saw fit to wear was a pair of bracers that have been strapped to her forearms, partially masking part of her vibrantly colored tattoos. Resting in a scabbard that is strapped to her back is one of Meri's weapons of choice, not a weapon she typically carries on her, at least without knowledge that she will be engaging in a fight. Four daggers are also carried on her person. Two of these blades sit sheathed at her hips while the other two have been shoved into the back of her boots. Feet carry her through the flat lands, trudging through the blades of grass until her baby blues fall upon a figure. Was that Jonn? This figure certainly resembled the description that was given to her. The woman reaches over her shoulder to draw her weapon from its leathery confines, calling out to the male's name as she does so. She did not want to be the brilliant tournament contestant who unwittingly attacked an innocent bystander by mistake. Yes, this gave away the fact she was there and yes it prevented her from any sort of sneak attack...but this seemed like one of those better safe than sorry cases. It is not until Jonn gave her some sort of acknowledgement that Meri takes the offense and when he does give her the affirmation that she needs, it's only a split second later that she takes to action. By all accounts, her attack is a deceptively simple one. The woman charges forward, letting her bastard lead the way, so that she can thrust the weapon toward Jonn's torso. Her next attack is far more underhanded. She has to get that edge somehow, right? The blade shoved into the back of her right foot takes to flight suddenly and swiftly, almost moving of it's own accord and hopefully at a point in time when Jonn is distracted defending Meri's initial attack. The dagger that seems to have a mind of its own cuts through the air toward Jonn, aimed for a weak point in Jonn's armor, preferably near the hip hear. That would certainly make moving uncomfortable if it made its mark.

Jonn steps into the flatlands from the road from the east, clad in his father's armor. The helmet is fashioned in the shape of a gaping dragon's head, the steel beautifully engraved with an approximation of scales, lacquered a deep red. That color is matched by the true dragon scales that make up the remainder of the armor; breastplate, sleeves, greaves and all, made up of row upon row of red and black dragon scales, trimmed in gold. In his left hand he bears a hefty shield, emblazoned with the dragon emblem of his house, while in his right he carries a nondescript longsword, its edge blunted for the non-lethal combat. Rising above his shoulder, however, the hilt of Judgment can be seen, always kept close in case of emergency. Upon seeing Meri, he smiles, the expression mostly hidden by the fearsome helm, and raises his sword in a polite salute in response to her call. Formalities finished, the young knight steps forward, bringing the shield around to protect his advance. He is not swift in his approach, by any means, but methodical and wary, ready to react to the slightest hint of danger. His vigiliance is rewarded when Meri charges, and he braces himself for the impact, taking the bastard sword's thrust on his shield in a screech of metal on metal, the angle at which his shield is held allowing the sword to slide off, hopefully leaving his foe wide open. The dagger, unfortunately, does go unnoticed at first, and even though the dragon's trained gaze spots it soon after it emerges from the boot, his armor impedes him as he tries to pull the shield back in the line of the blade's flight, merely clipping it rather than stopping it altogether. It strikes him on the hip, as intended, but in less of a direct manner, slicing through the leather beneath the scales and drawing a flow of blood from the skin beneath. Ignoring the pain, the knight reacts immediately, swinging his sword around in a languid slash, the blunted blade humming in toward the woman's left side. The slow attack is only meant to distract the eye, however, for with a sudden step the dragon moves forward again, putting his body's weight behind his shield in an attempt to slam it, full force, into his opponent, the force enough to drive the wind from her body should it land. The sword is swiftly recovered from the false attack, and immediately sent out again in an overhead cut meant to drive Meri into the ground, the blunted edge still capable of bruising flesh or even breaking bone, given the force behind it.

Meri paid no mind to if her dagger actually hits Jonn or not, that was a distraction she clearly could not afford to have in this battle. She had enough to consider, like the way her arm seems to be trembling after her sword meets Jonn's shield. Jonn was also no novice and has clearly mastered the art of distraction. The first swing of the sword, despite the nagging feeling that is in Meri's gut that this is a fake, is dealt with appropriately. Meri's own bastard sword, which was simple in design as it was your average grade weapon, is arced out to meet Jonn's swing. She falls right into the trap that Jonn lays out, leaving her open to the shield being slammed into her body. A loud grunt is released from the woman along with a gasp for her, stumbling backward two or three steps. There is probably more severe damage, possibly to her ribs, but if there is the blonde does her best to ignore it. A flash of anger washes over Meri's features, angry at herself for not catching onto that attack and angry at how much it just hurt even if she was no stranger to pain. She has barely has time to dwell on this anger let alone catch her breath before the onslaught continues. Meri regains enough sense to bring that sword of hers up to meet Jonn's, wielding her weapon with one hand. She was certainly stronger than you would expect for your average human woman. Maybe there was more to her than meets the eye? The blonde pushes forward back into Jonn, trying to gain enough leverage so that she can lock their weapons at the hilt. Even if she is unsuccessful in her endeavor, it matters little. Her real intention is to disarm Jonn that pesky shield and to do that, she needed to have his mind occupied on other things. While she is trying to lock weapons with Jonn, rendering them both temporarily useless, another blade begins to move through the air, again seemingly of its own accord. This one circles about the fighting duo, teasing and taunting Jonn with the threat of 'what if' and 'when'. She hopes dealing with these two things is enough to keep Jonn's attention preoccupied, relaxing that grip on the shield just enough for Meri to use her psionic abilities to wrench that shield right off of arm. If she manages to do this, the shield will be thrown well out of reach, leaving her opponent a bit more open. Relying so much on her telekinetic abilities is not without cost. Already, a bit of blood can be seen dribbling from Meri's nose and that was most certainly not from Jonn's doing.

Jonn allows Meri to lock blades with him, unworried at the contest of strength, and more interested in the circling blade than the unwieldy bastard sword. Again and again he shifts, keeping the blades locked, but sidestepping all the while, keeping the dagger in view. No fool at fighting, he knows the woman's plot, but, eventually, gives her what she wants. Rather than allowing her to tear the shield from him, he abruptly swings it outward, letting go to send it flying at the blade in an attempt to knock it down and out of the way, allowing the dragon to focus on the fight more clearly. Bereft of his shield, Jonn's face, behind the stylized dragon maw, is a mask of concentration, the knight's body moving seamlessly from one action to the next, the product of a lifetime of training. Disengaging the locked blades with a twist and a backward step, he lances out with the blunted sword, putting his weight behind a thrust that appears to be aimed for the woman's torso, but at the last possible instant it dips down, the rounded point aiming to tangle amidst Meri's legs, in hopes of tripping her. He drops the sword then, intentionally, leaving it, hopefully, entangled in his opponent's legs, abandoning the tournament blade in order to place himself on fair footing with his foe, who seems more than willing to draw blood with more lethal blades. His now free hand flicks to his belt, drawing the dagger that hangs there. He covers the motion, however, by jabbing out with his left fist, the scaled gauntlet on a crash course for Meri's already bleeding nose, the force lent to the punch enough to shatter the nose, a punishing blow, instead of the fatal one it could be. Ever looking to seize the advantage, Jonn brings the dagger around in an upward slash with the blade held downward along his forearm, speeds out toward the spell blade, meant to gash along her ribs, a motion which is followed by a few more steps back, his wary gaze on the woman's sword.

Meri can't help but look a little smug when she does manage to free Jonn of his shield, even if it does cost her the weapon she was using to torment Jonn. That's okay. She still has two more, one resting at each hip. Meri was young and in her mid-twenties at best and her training my not have been as formal as Jonn's but her talent is made apparent by her ease in matching Jonn's footwork, mirroring his movements as she circles. These two certainly could dance. What did Jonn have in store this time? It was difficult to stay alert between the pain her in ribs and the dull pressure forming right between her eyes as a direct result of her reliance of her psionic talents during this particular fight. She could not keep this up for much longer. She knew it and Jonn probably knew it too. Meri was no stranger to feigning hits or directions and she would not make the mistake of ignoring instinct again after Jonn has displayed her was no above trickster attacks. Again her sword is arced downward to meet Jonn's sword, her other hand moving to grip the hilt of her bastard sword so she wielded it with two hands now in an attempt to better brace herself for the force of the two weapons colliding. Barely, Meri manages to deflect the attack and thus manages to keep her footing. The woman does not have much of a chance to recover when Jonn drops his blade, freeing his hands up so that he can deliver a brutal punch to the nose while also seeking out a blade of his own. There is a sickening crack when Jonn's fist collides with Meri's nose, a crack that is trailed with a slew of naughty words. Someone needs their mouth washed out with soap! Tears well up in the woman's eyes, there was just no preventing that, and blood spews forth from her nose. This proves to be sufficient enough to keep Meri's mind off the final attack. Jonn's blade bites into the flesh of Meri's exposed ribs just as he anticipates. Now who was willing to draw a little blood? Jonn has managed to shed more of Meri's blood than she has of his own blood. The gash to the ribs does not bother Meri nearly as much as her broken nose. That royally upsets her. To the point where she is driven into a state of pure rage and out of control. The woman stomps her feet several times and each time she stomps the ground immediately surrounding the two contestants trembles, though not so much that the ground begins to crack but maybe enough to knock Jonn of balance if he is not prepared for this. In addition to this, the two daggers that she previously was levitating through the air that now sit lifelessly in the grass along with Jonn's shield all take to the air for a third time. This time, that are all hurtled simultaneously toward Jonn and rather recklessly at Jonn to deal whatever damage they may.

Jonn braces himself at the first hint of the earth shaking, dropping into a half-crouch in order to keep his balance, helmeted head swiveling this way and that to keep as much of the battlefield in view as possible. As the blades and the shield all rise and fly toward him, he leaps forward, hoping to dive under them as they approach. However, the shaking ground proves his downfall here, as he lurches unsteadily, directly into his own shield. The heavy steel rings off the dragon helm, tearing the straps and sending the armor flying, leaving Jonn momentarily dazed and all but deaf on the ground, the daggers sailing through the air where he had just been standing. With an involuntary groan, the duke hauls himself to his feet, his bared head bleeding where the helmet had cut him in its departure. Meri's use of magic as well as the multitude of blades causes the knight to dispense with the chivalry of a tournament altogether. Hurling the dagger far from himself and the woman both, he draws from over his shoulder his father's sword, Judgment, baring the wyrm-patterned blade. His right hand closes tightly around the hilt, wrought in the shape of a gilded dragon. The dragon's jaws, forming the pommel, are clasped around a single golden dragon scale. With a word from Jonn, the blade's magic, forged into it by the duergar Hepti, comes into effect, wreathing the blade in golden flame drawn from the scale itself. The flames flicker in the young duke's eyes as he advances once more, the fight now truly in earnest. This time, as the knight's blade swings out, it is accompanied by the roar of the flames, leaving a trail of sparks as it slices out, meant to hack into Meri's thigh, where the magical fire will be able to catch and spread, looking to engulf the woman altogether. He follows through, stepping toward and hopefully into his foe, trusting in the dragon scales to ward him from any flames that might have caught on her, driving his left shoulder before him with all of his weight behind it. The downward angle he gives the motion is intended to once again drive Meri into the ground, so that his right hand, clutched around the hilt of his sword, can drive toward her face to finish the job his left had started.

Meri goes a little wide-eyed at the sight of the the flame-engulfed sword. Seriously? Her puny little bastard sword which any common vagrant could offered would certainly not hold up against that. She was too mentally drained to come up with anything overly flashy by making use of her telekinetics. She had just about run herself dry and she had heard many of a horror story of people trying to push themselves beyond their limits. Her energy level has just been shattered in just about every way, a fact that causes Meri's mind to reel. All the woman can do is groan, entirely discouraged. The only option she felt she had left was to rely on her speed.Again, her bastard sword is swung down to at least deflect the flaming sword, keeping it from setting fire to Meri. Deflect and that is it. Once accomplished, the weapon is pulled back and Meri uses a bit of footwork to try to circle away from Jonn, keeping him narrowly from driving her into the ground and catching her ablaze. She was on the retreat now, had her fill of this fight. No further attempts are made to attack Jonn, inwardly hoping that would be enough to spare her from any further damage. She was already a bloody mess.

Winner: Jonn

Jonn stands his ground as Meri retreats, bringing his sword up into an upright position before him. Once he is certain that the woman is truly leaving, and not just planning another vicious assault, he allows the flames wreathing Judgment to wane, leaving the wyrm-patterned metal gleaming darkly. Another glance assures him that Meri is truly gone, and he slides the sword into its sheath and, limping visibly now from the wound to his leg, hobbles off to collect his helmet, shield, dagger, and blunted tourny sword, before leaving the flatlands, satisfied in his victory.