Duel:Kyrun v Vornir
Judges: Jacklin, Parsithius, Jerralith
Location: Kelay Way
Stakes: Death
Vornir Brimirsson stands tall, his massive frame wrapped foot to neck in radient white armor, crafted from the Everfrost the giants of Frostmaw so favor. In his left hand, he bears a tower shield, ridged and rimmed with sharpened blades and crafted out of the same enchanted ice. A matching band winds round the Champion's broad forehead, engraved with his own personal emblem. In his right hand rests his fabled Axe of Northern Winds, the blue iron blade glittering with hoarfrost, despite the evening's warmth. Battle fury rises within the massive paladin, visible in the flush of blood in his cheeks, the tensing of the muscles beneath the armor. Without warning, he snaps into action, swing his axe in a rush of wild wind, whipping the shutters on the surrounding buildings closed, then open again as the bearded weapon soars toward the avian down below in a vertical blow meant to split Kyrun in twain. Without even stopping to think, the giant moves on, every movement steady and purposful as he swings the bladed shield about in a semi-circle, aiming to bite into his foe from the side and meet the axe in the avian's flesh.
Kyrun stands there in leather armour and the only weapon to be seen is his brass knuckles in his hands, the avian then looks up at the giant with a smirk on his face, it looks like I have a big problem here. He then noticing the frost giants movements fly upwards using his agile body to move away from the axe and behind the giant, the grey winged avian then tries kneeing the frost being in the head as hard as he can with flames around his knee to do extra damage
Vornir , taken by surprise by the swift flight, takes the blow to his head hard, stumbling forward even as his long hair lights aflame. Spinning, he manages to turn his stumble into a controlled backpedal, hitting his head again on the shop behind him to smother the fire. Angrily, his powerful backhand collides with the building, splintering the outer panels of wood into jagged shards which rain down onto the street below at speeds dramatically increased by the currents of air frenzied by the Axe, bouncing harmlessly off the Champion's armor, yet easily able to puncture unwarded flesh. Icy, plated boots, spiked for traction in the snow, kick thunderously at the cobblestone streets, sending hunks of stone to join the wood in the storm of shrapnel clouding the air. In the midst of this deadly rain, Vornir strikes again, scorning even to use his axe as he lifts his shield once more, using it as a ponderous fly-swatter as he attempts to knock the avian from the air, then further, into a bloody pulp on the broken ground.
Kyrun shocked by the giants movement moves backwards just to be surprised by the stones and wind caused from Vornir, Kyrun then just concentrates on keeping steady does not notice the shield and gets hit and hits the floor hard. The avian then shakes his head to shake of the blow, he would then try and roll away from the beast of a giant to get back to his feet and fly upwards only to realise a few of his ribs are broken. In a rage the avian holds both hands outwards at his foe releasing a blast of flame straight towards the face, he then would try to fly around his oppentnents feet in circles to try and make him lose balance.
Vornir is again hit by flames, only his trained reflexes saving his eyes from being damaged. As it stands, the side of his face is burned badly, the flesh cracking open to let blood seep out. Using this, the Champion makes a supplication to his god, ignoring the avian flitting about his feet. The sacrifice of pain, together with the offering of battle, serve to draw Aramoth's gaze, filling his warrior with a giant-sized portion of the War God's fury. A roar of ecstasy shatters the air, echoing repeatedly from the buildings lining the street. Abandoning the shield, its straps severed with a careless swipe of the axe, Vornir pulls a dagger from his belt. Short in his grip, it measures a good three feet from tip to hilt. This is thrown in a skillful, overhand toss aimed to pierce Kyrun through his feathered wings, thus rendering them useless. His divine ire still unsated, Vornir surges after his missile, his free hand reaching down to grab at his foe, to snatch him up and smash him bodily against Brimirsson's own armored chest in a crushing, bestial embrace.
Kyrun shielding his ears from the roar only notices the dagger peice his right feathered wing when he hits the floor making his ribs hurt even more, with the pain of his ribs does not notice the giant coming and gets grabbed. Kyrun then readies his body for the embrace that still makes him scream in pain and fueling his own anger making him unleash flames all around his body and a few inches outward as well, the spellblade then forces the flames grow hotter and into a fierce heat hoping to burn the frost beast to make him feel his pain, hopfully enough pain that the avian will be released from the grip.
Vornir grimaces as the flames take hold, battling the enchanted ice of his armor. Slowly, like cold molasses, the breastplate begins to melt, the heat within scorching Brimirsson's chest, a pain ignored as best as possible as he continues to hold onto his enemy, hoping to squeeze Kyrun's last breath from him before the fire eats through the armor completely.
Jacklin said, "Vornir is the victor."
Vornir grins in wild fury as he crushes tighter and tighter. At last, the rewarding sound of bone cracking and viscera squishing meets his ears, and he drops the corpse to the ground. In a fit of sudden fervor, he smashes the body with his foot. Over and over he stomps, until naught but a pale pink goo stains the broken street.
Vornir = 8-0