Duel:Linken v Quintessa, Match 5 of the 2020 Frostmaw Tournament
Duelists: Linken vs Quintessa Duel: Traditional 3 rounds with final defense, 15 minute posting limit. Stakes: Auto-hit to the winner. Judges: Meri, Mahri, and Orikahn
Walled Courtyard
Environmental Challenge
00:37:28
Orikahn :: The courtyard's grass and verdigris have been the subject of much murmuring among the grounds keeping staff. The novelty of green, growing things comes at a steep price here in the far north, and the past several days have been fraught with concern surrounding the duel and what harm might be done to the fort's precious vegetation. Pickett notices to "keep off the grass" stand posted along the meandering courtyard path. The signs are well and good, but unbeknownst to all, the head groundskeeper has taken matters into his own hands. Apparently unsatisfied with mere posted warnings, the green-thumbed giant has secretly hired a druid coven to enchant the grass. Enchant it how? Oh, just to be "sturdy enough for a fight," he'd told them. This simple directive leaves much to interpretation. The grass stalks do look particularly green and hardy. In fact, some of the grass is wrapping up and around one of the "keep off the grass" signs. The blades pull it to the ground and, in an unsettling show of herbal potency, pull it to pieces. A second later, the roots have sucked the shreds below the dirt, and it is as though the sign had never been. Fighters beware! The lawn will not be trifled with. If a sign might aggravate the grass to attack, imagine what misguided footstep or stray attack might do. Stay safe on the path and see that is your opponent who gets entangled in the blades!
Optional Introduction
Quintessa paces in the courtyard, her spike-heeled boots crushing the grass beneath her heels as mismatched eyes of blue and hazel survey the surroundings. This was a suitable place to fight for the changeling; Just enough space to move around but nowhere for her opponent to run. "Perfect." Quintessa's inactive invisibility cloak furrows in the wind, reveling the Catalian katana and leather catsuit that was equipped beneath, seeking to maximize the freedom of movement not wearing armor gave her by also avoiding baggy clothing. Around her waist is an alchemical belt, some of the holsters modified to hold her three dark steel daggers and her prized mitral scalpel along side some of her favored potions and poisons. Atop her head Quintessa is also wearing a pair of dark tinted goggles, runes carved into the leather straps for reasons only known to the young spellcaster. With a smirk on her face and a crazed look in her mismatched eyes, the changeling was ready to spill some blood tonight. "It's not too late to surrender, you know." Quintessa says to Linken, her mouth twisting into a too-wide grin. "Once I draw this sword I won't be able to stop until one of us can't move anymore."
-
Kazeem has heard through the grapevine that another fight in the Titans of Winter tournament was happening this day, and so after he finished helping around the warrior's guild the neophyte made the trek to the location as quickly as his still injured body could carry him. Body still wrapped in bandages that are clearly visible underneath the attire he wears to combat the frigid climate, the Ansari man seems worse for ware still. Healing at the natural rate takes time, something he is used to in all honesty. For now the man simply takes up a position that is available to spectators and awaits the fight with keen interest. It was her, the madwoman from whom he received these wounds. Linken will have his hands full this day, causing the desert native to mutter a silent prayer for the elven man's health given this insane woman's penchant for wanton slaughter.
Penelope is present in the healer’s tent. The woman keeps her herbal pouch to her side with the stitch lettering ‘P’ on the bag. The woman is sitting down near a cart placed with medical supplies as she watches the two competitors enter the arena. The girl, however, is more collected than the last duel and not as anxious. Also, yeah, she is totally eating on snacks as she is careful with one wrapped hand. Y’all do not worry. She can fix someone up with one hand—maybe. Good practice for those situations. Either way, she should do more dueling and less eating, but really the jerky is good, and well, all she needs now is cucumber dip. Maybe even artichoke.
Mahri finds herself a place to sit and watch, because that's what the lycan does best of all. It helped that Tessa was fighting and Mahri did enjoy watching the Changeling in action.
-
Linken eyes wandered overhead, marveling at the scope of this northern regions architecture as he slowly carried himself towards the courtyard's center, his lack of attention to where he stepped leading to him tripping on one of the cobblestones, flailing his arms with a wide-mouthed expression of panic before balancing himself. This brought his focus from the towers above to the woman before him, a nervous gulp rising and falling in his throat as he leaned backwards slightly in response to the eerily sadistic smile and warning thrown his way. "How did I get myself into this..." Again, he wore no outstanding armor besides his simple tunic, nor did he carry any equipment with him outside the sword clenched tightly in his steel hand by the scabbard; It's not like he could remember how to use any of his equipment, anyways. However, his reflexes and reaction timing were -somehow- enough to carry him through to this round, so perhaps there was a chance he could rely on them once again. "...Well, I guess it's a good thing I'm an expert at being immobilized..." Sadly, he wasn't joking. His left hand clenched the hilt and drew the blade in a swift motion, tossing the sheath to the side as he spread his legs and sunk into a battle-focused stance; this time remembering to point the sword in the right direction, and all that. "Don't worry, though. I think I can take it. I think."
-
Orikahn yawns widely and lays on the top bench of the grandstands, one arm and one leg hanging off the back, his floofy tail idly swinging. The sabercat's winter coat is lush, and he looks rather inviting to pet. This is, of course, a trap.
Kasyr wonder if it's considered cheating to be following the combats of the other contestants as closely as he is, or the preperations he's been undertaking. Perhaps it was a little bit of overkill? He adjusts where he's leaning against the courtyard wall, brushing a bit of snow that had drifted onto his shoulders, before his focus flicks back to the burgeoning bout. "...Nah."
Alvina is present, without her roaring brood. Really she's here to represent Cenril, as Hudson is tending to other, less legal business matters that involve Uma, apparently. The socialite took the job willingly, being familiar with Frostmaw and it's denizens. As the match begins, she settles herself on a bleacher near Kahn when the twitch of fuzz catches her eye. She knows it's a trap. She is well aware of the sabercat's trickster nature. Buuuut she's had exactly two glasses of wine so she's willing to take that chance. Slowly, quietly the bard shifts down the bench. Her fingers twitch in Kahn's direction, eyes wide with the promise of touching this lethal but exquisite wintery fluff.
Vasili only betrays the slightest of emotion upon his pale features, borne in that of an amused grin that curls a single corner of his lips. His forward approach only comes to a halt for moments, where hawk-like light gray-blue eyes languidly scan the features of the contestants in the distance and then finally all of the unfamiliar spectators. The lightly armored vampire takes a moment to tame medium length raven locks by pulling them back. Once he has finished fussing, he steps forth in search of a quiet place to perch his backside and view the fighters. After all, this was a sport he favored. Eventually, the spell blade claims an area alone and sits - putting his predators gaze back down on the field in silent contemplation.
Khitti is present, but silent and just watching the duel.
Orikahn lazily lays, and his tail lazily swishes, and his eyes lazily slide over to watch Alvina's hand approach. "Hm, brave fool, how you tempt me." His claws flex and leave little stripes in the bench as he stretches. The great cat's neck cranes, and he gently presses his forehead into the outstretched hand. "Too much, and I strike. Too little, and I strike."
-
Duel
00:51:47
Linken does a double-take as he witnesses the sign in the grass get drawn into the earth and ripped apart, lifting one leg and coiling back in terror of the vegetation, nearly walking backwards into the grass on the opposite side of the path. As his heel slid to the edge of the cobblestone, another identical shriek was given before he hopped back into the center of the path, wrought with anxiety as suddenly everything in his surroundings deems it appealing to either kill him or eat him alive, and that could be said about either his opponent or the environment. "I should have stayed at home," he cried, looking up to meet his target's gaze with a deep focus in hopes to draw his attention from the parallel pits of death on either side. "I just hope this one doesn't fall on me..." Clenching his sword tight, as to prevent its loss during the match again, he lurches back real slow, and pauses...then darts forward as if fired from the catapult, toes barely scraping the stone beneath as he charges Quintessa head on with a speed far beyond someone of his simple demeanor. The look on his face was of pure regret and terror, but if the last match proved anything, the amnesiac elf was not an opponent to be misjudged. On his approach, Linken broke into a slide, breaking up the linear approach he took to his assault by tumbling into a roll and springing himself into the air, using the momentum from a cartwheel-flip to bring his sword down hard and fast in an arching overhead strike.
-
Alvina huffs at this threat. She knew she had the protective barrier of a common friend to stay Kahn's hand. "You've struck me down once, I don't need to re-learn the lesson". She tamely scratches behind his ear like the true and brave champion she is. Alvina ain't scared of no murder cats. Besides, she's a big scary beastie too.
Orikahn hums in thought, and the hum soon tapers into a purr. There's banter afoot, and it's his line, but... but... but *ear scritches.* "You... I... mind that you don't... take caution..." Slowly, his neck relaxes, and his gib floofy head lays on the bench beside Alvina. "...fierce, not to be trifled with," he uselessly mutters as his tail continues to swish.
-
01:07:30
Quintessa has already made a costly mistake by stepping on the grass during her anxious pacing, the voracious plant-life already eating away at her spiked boots as she treads upon it. "Elazu's Bite!" she curses, drawing her katana and swiftly cutting away the straps on her boots to pull herself away and back onto the cobblestone before anymore damage could be done. The young spellcaster had escaped but at the cost of one of her weapons, her prized spiked-heeled boots. This was a lovely start. In her bare feet, Quintessa turns back to Linken and pulls her goggles down over her mismatched eyes, her lithe fingers tracing along the false edge of her sword as she threads her mana within the mundane alloys. "Gwisgo fflach," she utters, enchanting her sword as it pulses with a brilliant white glow as Linken charges her. Quintessa betrays a look of surprise at the elven man's method of attack, but the changeling still brings her sword up with both hands defensively to absorb the impact of the blow. Linken's sword comes down hard upon Quintessa's, activating the sunburst spell she had imprinted upon it seconds earlier and creating a blinding flash of sunlight emitted from her weapon. The trap had been triggered, but at a cost; The changeling could not fully prevent the force of his blade from driving her backwards as his attack bites into clavicle, blood beginning to drip down his sword. Quintessa growls at the pain and pushes back, freeing herself the bite of the elven man's steel before ducking under his arms. The changeling's sylphlike form dances fluidly behind him before planting her feet in an offensive stance and pulling her blade back. Quintessa then aims a quick thrust right for his spine, attempting to impale him while he was hopefully blinded from her spell.
-
"Only the utmost caution," Alvina reassures the lethal predator as he becomes dip under her dexterous pets. She has an artificer bonus applied to all dexterity rolls.
Orikahn fails his will save. He is charmed for 5 more rounds.
-
01:23:30
Linken 's facial expression the moment Tessa's sword erupted into light would have been worthy of a photograph, her movements as his blade stuck in her sending him stumbling back and forth haphazardly, nearly stepping into the hungry grass pits several times over. "AAAAHH! Arkhen!!! What the hell!?" lost to the concussive blast, he fumbled in place, his steel arm lifting to shield his eyes as he pointed his sword outward cautiously, unaware that his opponent had circled to his 'blind' spot moments after dislodging his weapon. His hearing, however, was unfazed, and the moment they caught that familiar 'swoosh' of steel slicing through air, his muscles tensed, and the warrior within bore itself for all. Twisting to his left, the elf folded his sword downward and behind his back to swat her thrust to the side, continuing the fluid motion by turning about all the way and driving the metallic fist of his opposite arm forward, putting all of his weight into the heavy jab in hopes of dealing some decent damage with the impact. He was swinging blind, however, and had no idea exactly -where- his strike would land, if at all, but if it did, it would at least force her back a fair distance to allow him an opportunity to recuperate from his stunned state, and take better caution in being wary of his opponent's tricks.
01:36:34
Quintessa growls when Linken blocked her attack, certain that she had properly calculated. The changeling was so preoccupied with missing this attack that her frustration blinds her to a swift attack from a metal fist. The elf jabs into her midsection hard, sending the girl stumbling back onto the cobblestone path, her body aching from the impact. Quintessa maintains balance but keeps stepping backwards, not wanting to get caught up in unpredictable flailing yet again. Instead she comes up with a new plan, one that involved that metal arm. Shaking off her daze the hex blade taps into her aura for power, the black wisps of mystic energy becoming visible as dark fog around her form. Quintessa then brings her katana up high into a Kirioroshi stance, the blade brought to a 45 degree angle above her head as her aura swirls around her like a maelstrom. The changeling holds her sword here as she begins to focus her mana, sparks jumping all along the ground around her as the air becomes thick with static electricity. "...mellt..." Quintessa begins, a lightning enchantment forming at the tip of her katana as a chaotic sphere of warbling magic. "Uwchgwyrfai!" The changeling shouts, bringing her blade down as hard as she can as her evocation finally takes form. A deafening crack of thunder echoes through the courtyard, battering the walls with sonic waves as a crescendo of bright blue lightning pierces the winter air and races right for the body of Linken, seeking out the conductive properties of his metallic limb.
-
Kasyr nods a fair bit at the exchange, though he pauses a bit when the changeling begins to channel electrical energy, if only because of the conversation the swordsman had held with Krice. In the given situation, it was certainly the correct call to make, though, "...Mind your feet and the environment." Not that it was overly apt that his grumbling would be heard, given the roar which briefly consumes the courtyard. Really, Kasyrs left tweaking his ear in the aftermath.
Zahrani had wandered not too far away from Kahn and Alvina, the panther feline's fur keeping the cold air at bay. She watches the exchange of blows, her eyes narrowing and the fur on her tail standing on end at the electrifying atmosphere. She covers her ears in response to the boom.
Vasili raises an eyebrow at the exchanging of blows and defenses thus far - giving pause only for the crackle of lightning and its thunderous, ensuing boom. Interesting, he thought. The spell blades previously mentioned amused half grin, finally stretches fully over his features to reveal pearly white teeth and fangs.
Lionel ate a bunch of chocolate and drank a lot of milk. Enigmatically.
Penelope feels the pain from just watching Lionel's lactose binge.
Lionel had an iron stomach.
Penelope thinks Lionel should win the duel against milk. She wishes she had stomach made of iron.
-
01:55:12
Linken had finished rubbing his eyes, shaking his head and blinking noticeably hard with a stretched face as his vision finally returns to him, another hurdle overcome. "Cripes, that's not fair...Wait, what is that?" The first thing he'd notice, obviously, was the woman holding her sword high, swirling it about as it attracted a well of dark energy. "What is that? What are you doing??" he nervously questioned, sword falling to his side and tip striking the stone path as he pointed at her ritual with a wiggling finger. "What are you doing? Stop doing that, I don't like that, STOP IT!! ACK!!" The sonic boom sent him back a step, and as the bolt of blue energy hurdled forth from her blade on a direct course towards him, Linken could do nothing but scream the highest, sissiest scream his vocal chords have ever managed to peak at, tossing his sword from his hands and lifting them to shield his face in frozen terror. That act of sheer cowardice would wind up saving his life, as it turned out, the bolt of energy veering slightly to the side and striking his still-airborne sword, drawn to the conductive nature of it's steel as it crossed the bolt's path. The weapon immediately exploded in a volley of hot liquid, spattering across the elf's wardrobe and skin and seering his flesh. "AAAAHHHGGGHHH!"" Linken frantically wiped at his face, peeling the hot goo, and a portion of his bubbly flesh, from his temple, quickly ripping the rapidly dissolving garment from his torso, exposing a body riddled with disfigurations and scars of battles past, and with a blood-boiling scream, he charged forth on pure adrenaline, sparing no second as he closed the distance on his target with animalistic rage in his eyes. Sinking low to the ground, he darted back and forth in a serpentine pattern, flipping back on his hand the moment he came within striking distance and lifting both of his feet high in the air, delivering three swift licks towards her upper section meant to disarm her, and hopefully disorient. As his legs came back down, he'd sweep his right one in a wide circle and bring it about to try and take her footing out from under her, and should his bull-rush tactics prove successful thus far, he'd round out the assault, planting his foot in a wide stance and following through with an other half-spin, building as much momentum as possible for a final, decisive strike: An uppercut, angled and aimed at the woman's temple as she hopefully fell to the ground. No one could remain conscious after taking a blow like that to the head with a fist that hard...could they?
02:13:04
Quintessa winces as her stance falters, the pain in her ribs hurting much more than the gash in her collar, thought the latter was spilling more more of her blood. The changeling could taste that crimson liquid in her mouth too and her whole body was shouting at her to end this, to stop toying with the elf and finish him. That lightning bolt had eaten up much of her mana, but she still had one last trick up her sleeve. The energy in the air quickly shifted from static electricity to icy mist as she braced herself for Linken's assault. With his weapon destroyed he would be forced to engage Quintessa hand-to-sword, as it were, and she was prepared for that. "Tarian iâ." She mutters, the hex blade's aura coalescing above her forearm, her wicked enchantment forming a buckler of black ice, a moment before the elf was in the air, his serpentine movements buying her the time she needed. The ice shield takes the barrage of kicks, the hex blade dipping low to easily maintain her balance. When his legs come back down Quintessa winces as she hops over his leg sweep, arcing her shield to bash him in the face with the momentum dropping back down gives her. Her feet both finding the cobblestone again, the changeling barely ducks out of the way of his spinning uppercut, her missing boots actually a boon when it came for quick footwork. With Linken's haymaker gone wide, Quintessa takes this moment to spring into action, popping up from her crouched position to rush the elf with her shield, trying to force him off of the safety of the stone path and into the horrible grass that robbed her of her fashionable boots. Let the environment take care of him.
02:33:52
Linken 's head takes the blow from her shield to his already wounded temple, snapping him downward and forcing him to catch himself with both hands to keep from sending his face straight into the grass. He may have saved his handsome features, but the same luck would not be had for his beautiful locks; The -true- victims of this duel, each precious strand was now slowly being gobbled up by the lawn with an absolute lack of respect for personal space. " AAAHH!!! Ooooohh, noooo~" he sobbed, heartbroken and pride stricken at the loss of his most valuable defining feature. Then, the rush came. "Huh?" Linken's head turned as much as it could while tethered to the earth, with barely enough time to catch her approach before she reached him. From his position, there really was not much he could do, so he'd wait until she was right upon him before ducking into a barrel roll, his hair twisting into a rope as he straightened himself out and rolled parallel with the edge of the path. reaching out with both arms, he'd attempt to bear hug her legs, a last ditch effort to send her flat on her face before using what little opportunity he had to remove himself from this situation. "Oh, no, it's getting closer! Crap! Crap! Crap!" Linken flipped back onto his hands as the grass continued to goble it's way closer to his head, squatting low to the ground and pulling back with all of his might, screaming in pain at his resistance to the hazard's pull, until it ripped and chewed right through it, a nauseating tear sounding from the elf's head as he toppled back onto his hind and fell over, very slowly and cautiously lifting his hands to touch his recently very-sensitive scalp, his expression turning grim and hopeless as his fingers confirm what his eyes no longer can see. "...Oooohhh, you've got to be kidding me....Oh, no.....No, not this...." A deep breath was taken, and a long, dramatic, 'WHYYYY!?!?" bellowed forth from his gut, echoing and resonating throughout the fold as it's heard by countless other people who probably never experienced this and most likely couldn't care less. Regardless the outcome, tonight, Linken, -truly-, has lost.
Winner: Quintessa
Auto-hit Stake
Quintessa falls back when Linken hugs her legs, her arms flailing back to catch herself on her elbows as she kicks Linken off of her with her bare foot. As the elf is slowly torn to shreds by the horrible grass, Quintessa rises to her feet. What was left to do? With a snap of her fingers her ice shield shatters harmlessly to pieces before she wipes her blade clean and returns it to her sheath. Linken's screams were like music to her half-human ears and Quintessa watches for a moment before she turns to leave, content with this ending. "Someone should help him," she says idly as she nears the healer's tent for treatment, "But I'm not going anywhere near that grass again."
Linken 's cries of heartbreak cease only when he hears Quintessa walk past, turning with a narrow gaze and a frustrated frown to shake his fist at her in retaliation. "Oooooh~, just you wait. I'm gonna' get you back for the hair! Mark my wor-ah, ah, ah, ah, aahh!" The elf rose to his feet mid vengeance-swearing, reaching up to wipe off his face only to pull at the bubbling wound on his temple in the process. His words cut short, immediately coiling his arms and hovering his palms near his face, wincing in pain as he continued to whine and grumble. "Aaaaahhh, the face, ooooh, ow, I forgot, ow, oh! Medic! Healer! Someone!" One hand extended outward, flagging down one of the healers lingering by the tents and beckoning them closer as he picked up pace to meet them in the middle.
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