Duel:Linken v Rorin, Match 4 of the 2020 Frostmaw Tournament
Duel: Traditional 3 rounds with final defense, 15 minute posting limit. Stakes: Auto-hit to the winner. Judges: Daath, Lionel, and Talyara
Heavy Snowfall
Among the many adversities of the frozen north, there are few so awesome, formidable, and debilitating as a blizzard. The natives know this, and they have alreadyretreated into their burrows, caves, and cabins to humbly weather the storm's otherwise hopeless odds. The stinging flakes are the teeth of some hateful, forgotten god, and the wind is the endless, deafening gnash of its jaws. Who dares to live where the very sky is alive with frigid wrath? Well, the duel is set, and the duelists have come, storm or no. As though galled by your temerity, the heart of the blizzard gathers, and the sky darkens. The roar of the wind climbs to a shrill, screaming howl. The clouds dip lower and stretch into a sharp funnel that soon touches the ground and rakes the growing drifts asunder. It twists, lifts, stabs down again, grows fat and strong, and churns up eddies that soon stretch into new funnels, spearlike satellites that orbit the towering center of the blizzard's fury. Combatants! Keep your courage and defiance undimmed! You will begin your duel amid this twisting chaos. See that your opponent succumbs to the storm.
Linken stood at the ready, after shaking hands and assuming his place, for a good minute before he realized it was his obligation to make a move. "Oh, gods," he whined under his breath, elven ears folding down in nervousness mixed with anticipation. All of his knowledge of combat was gone, but could he still rely on his reflexes? There was only one way to find out. The elf rocked back and forth on his heels, grinding his teeth and breathing heavily as he mentally psyched himself up before he bellowed a terrified, voice-crackingly high battle screech, and charged straight forward in a line with both hands flailing his sword around his head like a lunatic. only to wince and close his eyes right before impact as he brought the blade down at an angle towards Rorin's shoulder. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
Rorin eyes the blizzard with joy. He has grown accustomed to these wicked storms in this hostile and unforgiving land so ripe with death and frost. He closes his eyes and reaches out to sense Linken more than see him. As a paladin, detecting life and undeath are hand in hand as powers so simple to be as breathing air or feeling the wind. Linken seems a kindly soul, one of the only other things living between here and the previously gathered crowd. With a touch to the medallion around his neck Rorin calls upon his training to strengthen his aura and create his own eye of the storm. A globe of light and warmth grows around him, cutting the wind to a dim breeze, and the snow to a light flurry. The cold will not be biting the young paladin today. There are drawbacks- Rorin is incredibly more noticeable thanks to being cloaked in a huge ball of glowing light- but it will make his path all the more easier to pursue and vanquish his prey. He closes in easily- Linken turns out not to be too hard to find either way with all that shrieking and running in one direction- and Rorin bopped away the wildly erratic swipe at his shoulder with a simple movement of his shield. This guy was an actual fighter right? He was just testing him- looking to stab Rorin as soon as he saw a gap, the paladin was hot sweatingly sure of it. Rorin made a guarded move to smack Linken on the head with the flat of his sword. A quick change up would have him sweeping at Linkens legs as well, pressing forward, giving no advantage. Perhaps he could push Linken back towards one of the twisting snow cyclones and earn a fast victory without taking a hit!
Linken's blade went flying out of his grip from the bounce back of the shield's impact, spinning off into the whirling white and lost somewhere in the heavy snowfall behind him. The quick mumbling of an unheard expletive his only response, the elf seemed distracted enough by his muck-up that the broad side of Rorin's blade nearly came down on top of his head unnoticed. However, it was acting defensively that always seemed to trigger the elf's muscle memory, and his body acted before his mind could process his own movements. Linken's right arm lifted to block the blade from his head, the steel flesh hidden beneath his sleeve providing ample strength to deflect it back into the air. As Rorin's sword whirled about and came at a sweep for his legs, the amnesiac elf jumped and performed a mid-air cartwheel, his expression changing from surprise to terror min-maneuver as he finally realized what was going on. "Aaaaahhhhggmphb-!" He screamed, a wad of his hair whipping about in the wind and flying into his mouth as his feet planted firmly on the ground, and using the momentum from the spin he straightened his arm, bringing it in a wide arc towards Rorin's face in an attempt to clothesline him with his wrist. The elf could not see what he was doing; too much of his hair had wrapped around his head amidst the whirling snow generated by the cyclones. Yet, he fought as though he had some sort of sixth sense, or extremely high situational awareness. That, paired with the metallic prosthetic acting as a weapon, showed that Linken just may be a more formidable opponent than even he believes.
Rorin thought he had seen the truth! The metal arm was surprising, flinging Rorins blade away harmlessly and then Linken was hopping right over it. There it is! The warrior hidden within?! Rorin knew it- he didn't know he was about to get hit in the face though. As Rorin went stumbling backward knocked sideways from the fist, his head rung from his helmet, but he now had an idea. Linken couldn't simply be hit head on. Rorin would have to be fast and not let Linken see him coming. Real fast, apparently. As he stumbled away Rorin broke into a run and dialed back on the aura a bit. No glow means no warmth but the wind he might be able to turn into his advantage. The paladin could sense Linken still, and his own reaction time was fast. He just hoped it would be fast enough. Hopping into a half-born twister, wildly flailing at first, Rorin would turn his round shield on its face and take out a razor tipped whip. Using the air from the twister, abated where needed by his aura, Rorin would soon be sailing and gliding over the growing snow dunes with expert ease. Wether or not he won at least he was having fun! Out of the blizzard he would slide, whip cracking, hoping to catch Linken by surprise. Although it wasn't in his nature, Rorin would attack first from Linken backside, but it was only a glancing slight. The paladin was slipping around with speed on tje breeze, here one moment and gone the next as he whipped up part of the storm in a barrage of attacks. The wind could sway his whip but it was heavy laden with lacquered leather and it's viciously sharp tips. Rorin would end his attack with an over head strike, bailing from the shield and trying to wrap Linken up with the whip as he somersaults through the air. Deeply entrenched in his snowy landing, the paladin was flush with adrenaline- he'd have to take this whole snow surfing thing up recreationally some time.
Linken grabbed at his face, pulling away strands of hair and throwing it over his shoulder to clear his vision only to find no trace of the opponent that was before him just a moment ago. "Oh...no. Not good." Cautiously he began to back pedal, hands held out before him defensively as his gaze darted left and right, hoping to glean some trace of the paladin in the snow. That was when he felt the crack of the whip against his back. "Yaaooww!" The elf toppled over to his hands and knees, the sudden snap of pain breaking his focus for a moment, only to reinforce it for the remainder of the barrage. Now that he knew the tactics his opponent was using, he only had the obstacle of weather to overcome. The howling wind and whirling snow did much to muffle his senses, but his elven hearing was just keen enough to detect traces of sharp cuts through the air, and as soon as he heard the next he rolled to the side, the strike whipping up a burst of snow as it hit the ground where he previously sat. "Holy!-" The whip lashed out of the snow a second time, too soon to avoid, so he raised his steel arm in defense, only to wrap over it and strike him across the back again. "Grrrrhhh! Dammit!" he cursed, struggling to find an out to this situation, until he spotted it amidst the search of his frantic gaze: The cyclone. If Rorin could take advantage of it, he could too. The elf waited, patient and focused, until the whip darted from the snowy void once more, this time raising his arm high and allowing the weapon to wrap around his steel arm before gripping it tightly in his hand. Once secure, The elf strode high and ran in a wide arc gripping the weapon, directly towards the closest cyclone. With one final battle cry, the terrified elf leapt into the storm at a wide angle, allowing the wind to carry him and gather momentum as he soared through the air with his opponent teathering him to the ground. As he exited the other end of the funnel, his feet hit the ground in a running sprint, heaving the whip over his shoulder with all of his gathered might in an attempt to toss his opponent through the storm and send him flying off to... somewhere soft, hopefully.
Rorin had planned to whirl through the air but not like this! Before Rorin could land Linken had all the control with that damnably metal arm of his. Rorin was heavier than Linken in his half plate but with the weather as it was that hardly mattered. All Rorin could do was let go of the whip and hope he landed somewhere soft. But he didn't land. Not at first. No, for half a minute Rorin was still falling and falling- falling up? The paladin had been tossed into the biggest tornado of ice and snow there was smack dab in the middle of the battlefield and he was being pelted with the harsh frozen detritus as he rose up into the wind of the storm. Straightening out with great force, Rorin was half sure he'd already pulled something as he attempted to swim through the air instead of hurtle through it haphazardly. This was, weirdly enough, not the first time he'd done something like this. During a simulation of a fight in an eldretch clockwork mechanism alongside a friend, he had pulled this stunt with reckless abandon. At the time he had not been nearly as far off the ground. From up here Rorin could still sense Linken, but barely. He would have to hope this last strike would be accurate, because it would take all the strength he got not to backfire horribly. Rorin strengthened his aura, not into an airy globe of light, but a total bubble, a shield of epic proportions with the paladin curled at the center. As he swung into the outer rim of the swirling vortex he began to descend. Rorin was becoming a kind of holy meteor, guided by a divine sense of accuracy towards his target. He was going to crash. This was the whole plan, unfortunately. Past that it was just sort of a vague 'survive the crash'. Either way this was going to be an exhausting last ditch effort to win the fight. Crashing into Linken was a deadly gambit. Rorin just had to hope it was not going to be a deadly mistake.
Linken heaved a deep breath, whipping his shoulders back and usinghis hand as a visor while peering into the distance, watching as Rorin begame a faint glimmer of light in the cloudy sky. "..Wha?.. Aha! Yes! YES!" The elf threw his hands in the air victoriously, before bringing them to rest on his hips and laughing triumphantly, until that faint glimmer of light became a Sort-of-faint glimmer. Then a glimmer. Then a pretty-bright glimmer. "Ahaha, I can't believe I actually...wait, what's that? Is that- Oh, it's getting bigger. It's getting bigger, oh no IT'S GETTING BIGGER!!" The elf screamed in terror as the ball of shining man came hurdling down through the air towards him, turning and lifting his lefs high as he broke out into a full-on sprint, barreling through the snow as fast as the blizzard would allow with frozen tears streaming down his wind-blasted cheeks. "I dont want to die like THIS!! I shouldn't have listened to that-" Foom. The snow muffled the implact audibly, but not enough to keep the reverberating sound from knocking snow loose from all the rocks and foliage in the area. A massive implosion of snow burst forth from the point of impact and rose high, and after a few moments pass, the elf's figure can be seen soaring out from near the epicenter, a mixture of dread and acceptance of his demise plastered acriss his features as he flipped, and flipped, and flipped, before hitting the ground from a good thirtyfeet high and rolling for several meters before landing flat, face down in the snow. As he lay there, dazed, confused, and motionless, it was about that point he -really- started to feel the pain from the whip lashes across his back. "..Mmmpphhhmmppphhh...." That translates to, 'Oh...Oh, yeah...Ooooh, that's tender...ooowww...What was I thinking?...."
Winner: Linken