Duel:Kurlurk v Nortengaal

Winner: Kurlurk. Votes: Unknown

Note: This is the first round of the LFA event for February Light Heavyweight division. This is only the duel, not the rp leading up to, side rp during duel, or rp after.

Format: IC Duel

• 3 posts each + final defense.
• 10 min limit
• Gold: 1k for participating, 2k to winner, side wager between kurlurk and Nortengaal of 5k.

Arena

The arena seems to be as it always was. The fighting sport of gladiators has not grown old with the people of Larket. In the many bleachers, various townsfolk sit and watch as the two gladiators in the arena fight on. One of them is fighting with a sword, while the other has a spear and shield. You watch for a moment as the two battle each other, only to end in a gory spectacle of blood. The winner lifts up the head of the defeated as the crowd cheers and roars. Some of the men toss gold in the arena as prize, while a small number of women throw flowers. With the match over, you decide to end your stay as well.

Kurlurk stood in the arena, his opponent had bowed to him, something Kurlurk knew nothing of and so instead of a polite bow he would allow slightly more of his drool to fall to the arena floor. He waited for the centaur to announce the start and once he did he waited no longer than he would have to. Closing the distance he charged forward, the Orc stood at five foot three inches and weighed in at two-hundred thirty four pounds. The beastly Orc was ready for the battle, he had recently been in a match the previous night as well, his wounds already healed and his thick hide hardened by it. Kurlurk reached his foe quick enough and launched first a reverse punch also stepping forward for a jab from his left balled up fist. The Orc was more of a tackle and finish it kind of Bralwer, but the imp had explained to him before that these were battles of show, and not to be quickly spent dominating his opponent. So he would take his time, use it to first tenderize the potential meal.

Nortengaal grins widely, already enjoying the rush battle brings. As he watches the small yet compact Orc approach, he weighs his options. A slight nod signals he's made up his mind as to what he plans to do, and he quickly proceeds with his course of action. First adjusting his stance to better match his opponents shorter stature, he slides his left arm up, employing an elbow block to absorb the first punch, while at the same time he slides his right foot forward, turning his body to allow the jab to slip to the side of him as he brings his right hand to bear in a straight jab of his own aimed to hit the Orc squarely in the face, utilizing both the turning of his body and the Orc's own momentum to increase the power of the strike.

Kurlurk was not surprised by the quickness of the creature he found himself fighting. In fact the ease in which he evaded or canceled out his attacks made him chuckle lightly as he began to retaliate for his foe had already mounted a counter attack. Pulling his hands back and up as if to help protect his face like a boxer might. Instead of course he would allow the opponents fist through and clamp hard with both of his arms in the same formation tight upon the enemies forearm, hopefully this would injure his opponent but if it did not it would not matter, for this would give the Orc the time needed to simply open his maw and allow the fist to enter partially. This would of course loosen but a tooth or two if the enemy was lucky. The Orc then bit down hard, his carnivorous teeth would act much like a hand saw whose teeth were finally sharpened should he try to rip it out before he would let go. Pulling his head back hard with his foe’s fist still inside he attempted to pull his opponent towards him and in doing so would raise a powerful knee into the enemies own torso at the end of this attack he would purposely release the limb he had hold of and take a step back waiting to see what his opponent would do next.

Nortengaal , lets out a laugh, still grinning with the enjoyment of fighting even as he finds first his arm trapped in a tight hold, then the enclosure of his fist in the Orc's mouth. Although his first reaction to pull his hand out, the feeling of extremely sharp teeth already piercing his skin leaves him deciding against that. Instead, he actually fOrces open his fist in the creatures mouth, pushing the jaw open and allowing him some room before he clamps his powerful grip on the creatures tongue. Even as he feels himself being pulled forward, he flows with the movement, moving forward to meet the oncoming knee by shifting his weight to the side and once more allowing attack to slip to the side of him as he slides his leg to the side to end up behind the Orc, hoping to trip him as he steps back. Even though the Orc has released his hold on Nortengaal, Nort has not released his hold on the Orc and he follows through; should his trip be successful he will use the momentum of the fall to drive the Orc's skull into the ground, and should it not be, well, he'll still have a handful of the Orc's tongue, which will limit the creatures options.

Kurlurk would stumble backwards as his attack failed and the enemies hold on his tongue would fOrce him to turn. The attempt to trip him had just barely failed, the adrenaline that flows through his body at this point only helped in what he would do next, clamping down hard once more on his foe’s hand in an attempt to rip the hand from his body with his powerful jaws and even his own tongue if it was in the way. Then grabbing his opponent’s forearm with one hand he would take his other and attempt and smash his arm in the opposite way that the elbow is meant to work. If this would possibly fail as much of his other attacks has he would take his left arm over his right arm and attempt to deliver a horizontal chop with his adrenaline run Orc strength to his opponent’s face. After each of these attacks, no matter which would work in the end he would grab hold of his enemies arm with both hands and curl it beneath him as he jumped and attempted to pull the Lycan beneath him, a grapple move that would surely make the Lycan release him, but instead, the Orc would not release the Lycan. And he had no hope of prying open the Orc’s jaws to save his hand. It would surely belong now only to the Orc and serve as a mid-flight snack.

Nortengaal 's laughter begins to sound a bit…maniacal in tone as the orc once again clamps down on his arm. It is the lycan's own naturally strengthened body and current enhanced state that prevents him from losing the hand completely. Realizing that his attack had failed the moment the orc kept his balance, Nort adjusted his footing to remain facing the creature head on. It is this action that allows him to prevent first the attempt at breaking his arm simply by stepping forward to bend it, the hit instead of breaking the bone jamming his upper arm into the socket painfully. As the chop approaches his face he turns his head and opens his mouth, revealing sharpened fangs of his own as he chomps down on the hand, the action shaking his entire head and neck as the force is transferred through his upper body. He spit's the hand out in disgust, which allows the creature to grab a hold of him and attempt to pull him to the ground in a grapple. Taking full use of the creatures focus on his arm, he controls his lycanthropic transformation, dark red fur instantly covering his upper body as his body contorts, muscles increasing in strength. With a throaty laugh he uses the Orc's downward momentum to literally tear his arm out of the creatures mouth, leaving deep gouges in his flesh, as well as a few of the orc's weaker teeth. With a grin he steps back, barely giving his wounds a glance before he launches himself at the orc, his speed increased at least 3 fold due to his transformation. Caring less for finese and more for just hurting his opponent, he whips his left arm around in a dark-red blur, claw tipped hand held in a fist as he attempts to strike the hopefully somewhat disoriented orc full-force dead-center in the chest.

Kurlurk spits out the pungent smelling blood that is sticky and poisonous to most races, especially the elves. The Orc would grin as he sees his own blood that would be dripping form the teeth of what was now a transformed lycan. After the transformation he would step back, unsure what to do exactly he turns to wherever the ref may be, “Me fight doggie?” He would ask just before the lycan would land his punch square where he had aimed, normally nothing but a stumble backwards would happen but the momentum and the lycan strength caused more. A stumble was only the beginning as he tried to remain standing but would quickly find himself upon the bloodied earth of the Larket Arena. Standing quickly and shaking off the shock of the apparent surprise attack he would start towards the Lycan stomping heavily on the ground as he spoke and cracked his knuckles simply by squeezing his hands into fists, “Me hurt doggie!” The only thing that could stop him now would be the announcer telling all that the match was ended.