Duel:Piero and Vaidhe v Redovian and Shien
Part of the A Test of Faith Arc
Duelists: Piero and Vaidhe, Redovian and Shien
Stakes: Autohit, Advancement in the Gualon Revival Tournament
Eboric steps up to his place in the stands, on a raised platform on which a few seats await. The warlord, dressed in his shining mail, lifts a hand to call the arena to silence. "People of Gualon!" Eboric shouts. "Spectators from afar! Thus begins the second match of the tournament here in Gualon. Revel in the blood shed by honorable warriors." Never one to waste words, the warlord moves quickly to the important details. "Today we have another team battle, with Redovian and Shien fighting Vaidhe and Piero. Let the match begin!"
Redovian does not hesitate as the call to battle begins, the ex-paladin's hand going to grasp the handle of the spiked-flail at his side, as with what little practice he could get within the little time alotted, the man lunges forth with unbridled fury upon his designated target. The dragon Vaidhe. Quick strides bring the man across the arena with surprising celerity, his momentum used to drive the malign instrument of death and pain towards the larger and far stronger opponent with rapid haste. The flail, a cruel weapon by design, is sent forth to wreak havok upon the elder gold dragon's upper body, the massive head of adamantium capable of delivering a decisive blow to even the scale covered body of a saurian. But the most important factor this day, of why Redovian chose Vaidhe as his target, is simple. The dragon stands for what he once stood for. The light, the valiant fight against the darkness. In Frostmaw's Justice's eyes, he was attacking himself. He wanted to destroy that image, he wanted to unleash the furious rage that has built up within his heart over the past few days, and Vaidhe, nay, this entire tourny has given him just the outlet to release such raw emotions. The clanking of the chain links that connect the flail's head to it's handle is drowned out by the bloodthirty roar of barbaric rage that the Fallen Champion of Cyris bellows out. If Vaidhe is not quick, he will find himself bludgeoned by such raw physical strength that even the mighty dragon may be felled with naught but a single blow.
Kuiai enjoys his popcorn and watches as the fight begins.
Thea munches a piece or two of the salty snack and glances to her companion, "I believe he's changed his clothes since we saw him moments ago..", she states, indicating Redovian as the subject, "Good color for him..", she finishes with a slight grin being cast to her former Master.
Shien darts at Piero's side suddenly from his standing position. He didn't bother training weapons, he was getting a random set for the fight, instead he trained in footwork and speed. He uses his newfound acrobatics and agility to position himself opposite Redovian, now Piero and Vaidhe were between himself and his partner. He makes a boastful showing of jabs and thrusts with his spear before shoving the tip into the epidermis of the earth and flipping a swarm of dust and particles towards Piero's face. In the same second he brings it back to thrust again, carrying the weight of his body and momentum of a few steps this time into his foe; his belly, hoping some dirt blinded him or at least distracted him enough for a straight shot.
Piero enters the sands of the arena, confidence in every footstep, while eyeing the onlookers as they scream and shout at the duelers this day. The gear upon his flesh felt unfamiliar at best. The bone chest plate, spiked knee guards, obsidian face plate and spiked armlet were all things he wasn't familiar with. However, his weapons carried a similar weight even while dangling at his sides as he strolled in. While standing their taking the whole site in, he heard the announcer speak, listened to the crowd die down in obedience and drew his weapons in silence. A light weight straight bladed sword in his right hand and a simple dagger within his left. Pure rage filled his body as the bout began. Recoiling back, he gathered an unimaginable amount of air within his lungs. Only to clench every muscle within his being as he rocked forward announcing the arrival of combat. Spittle flying free from his mouth as he roared on violently. His target soared to him with unflinching speed. Piero was quick to act. Footwork was always the base of his training, sliding his right foot outwards, he sidestepped the flung earth, using very basic fencing foot work. Again he reacted to the attack swept the spear thrust to the side with the light sword, which was only aided by his fast footwork and performed a riposte'd. He lunged forward by straightening his rear leg and bending his right knee forward, while also leaning forward. That wicked light blade also jabbed for his abdomen. Left hand swung forward right after his first attack, launching the dagger towards his eyes, hoping to blind his foe. Although Piero was not strong, his entire life had been fencing, tactics and footwork. He would have to do something else.
Vaidhe :: For a creature birthed countless centuries ago, time is a fluid and often fickle concept. Here, at the cusp of battle, it stretches out in the saurian's keen mind, allowing him to perform his calculations at apparent leisure despite the charging, flail-flinging foe bent on striking him. The dragon has more than enough time to square his feet and thrust his left arm upward before his chest in order to block the flail; a spiked round shield has been strapped over this well-muscled appendage, and it is this bristling barricade which absorbs the mighty blow. Vaidhe rocks backward on his heels slightly upon impact, then hurls himself forward, shield first, in an effort to turn the tide quickly and decisively in this melee. He spares a quick glance for the human spell-blade, sees him fencing with a spear-wielding foe some distance away and realizes that, for the moment at least, there is neither danger from, nor aid to, that quarter. The saurian yanks his shield-arm downward as he leaps forward, doing it so violently that the leather straps are hewn loose by the rougher edges of the scales which naturally garb the humanoid saurian from head to foot. As the shield clatters to the ground, being the embedded head of the flail with it, Vaidhe's feet land on the flail-chain with tremendous force as both of his now-unencumbered hands come up at point-blank range to rend the former paladin's unprotected face. If Redovian does not loose his grip upon his would-be implement of destruction, the momentum of that weapon being yanked down and out of his grasp may further the damage to his flesh. Once contact is made by one means or another, Vaidhe intends to simply let gravity take its course, bearing both he and the fallen paladin to the sand with Vaidhe on top and clawing for all he is worth.
Redovian is not an unseasoned fighter by any means, and has battled foes far greater than this saurian warrior. His feint, his act of barbaric rage, while somewhat true, was naught but a ruse to open up the gold's impressive defences. With his opponent's shield clanging to the ground, the leather clad ex-paladin does indeed use his momentum to carry him forth, one of Vaidhe's clawed hands gashing open his left cheek, spewing forth precious vitate and ushering in a howl of pain. But Redovian does not faulter in his advance. Where size and strength are his opponent's strength, dexterity and flexibility are the fallen paladin's. The handle of the flail is now used as a weapin, as the vicious spike upon the bottom is used in an attempt to impale the softer hide of the saurian beast, a well known and legendary weak spot for dragonkind, with the power of Redovian's momentum coupled with the force given to his advance by Vaidhe's own attempt to disarm Frostmaw's Justice. With his body squared off, and Vaidhe's own attack propelling him towards the former champion of Kanos, the likelyhood of the dragon completley avoiding such a decisive blow is near impossible. The impending clash of human and seven foot towering dragon in hybrid form is also what awiats both combatants in the aftermath, as Redovian follows through with his assault by lowering himself and attempting to ram his opponent with as much force as he can muster from his two hundred pound form. If Vaidhe does not evade the flail's spiked handle being thrust into his gut, not only will he have to deal with that damage, but he will also lose the advantage of his incredible size when faced with Redovian's mighty follow up bullrush. This is close quarter combat, it leave little wiggle room for naught else but suicidal full on assaults.
Shien was surprised at Piero's deftness and ease of avoiding his attacks. Not surprised enough to hesitate of course, his training it would seem was similar, and acting on jiffies were what saved a man. Especially a man scant in armor. His spearhead was swatted aside, and the tip of a sword was meaning to burrow into his belly. Responding instantly, he turned his spear vertical and back to intercept the trajectory of Piero's thrust, pushing it to his right as he dropped his body weight to the left, rolling. Piero's dagger was now well out of range. He came up from the roll with a new plan, and he used the spear as leverage, holding it vertical to launch both his feet into Vaidhe's back. If he could knock him out of commission, then taking Piero down would be all the simpler.
Piero 's concentration almost broke as he heard the tremendous blow of a steel mace slamming against a shield. It Easily rang out within his ear drums. No matter how concerned he was for his teammate, he couldn't break off his attack, not yet at least. He watched his opposition dodge and almost laughed at himself. "Coward" He bellowed, taunting him with what was most likely, going to fail. Again he squeezed the dagger within his hand, stepped forward and threw it this time, at Redovian. He took the opportune moment and stole it. It was well aimed, however, he did not have practice at lethally throwing them. Whether it stuck into him or simply bonked him on the head meant little to Piero. Now was the time to act. Hastily he continued his momentum forward after the flailing dueler, Shien hell bent on utter destruction. The light blade was not just meant for stabbing, but for slashing as well. Piero launched his assualt again, swiping at the back of his opponent, the man did after all, flee to Vaidhe. Who was he to pass up such a hit? The blade screamed through the air at it's intended target attempting to flat out sever the spine. If any could see, a wicked grin stretched across Piero's lips. A plan was formulating.
Vaidhe is barrelling through the air toward Redovian, both feet clearly free of terra firma, when calamity strikes. The dragon is a strong but unseasoned melee fighter and had not seen the spike on the haft of Redovian's flail. Thanks to both natural saurian scales and a suit of chainmail donned specifically for this bout, Vaidhe's normally weak underbelly is somewhat less vulnerable than the fallen paladin might have hoped. The spike drives home, lodging within one of the links of chainmail and carving a bloody furrow as impact from behind causes Vaidhe's trajectory to change the slightest bit. Instead of actually smashing Redovian full-on, the kick to his back propels Vaidhe's left side into the paladin, sending the pair tumbling. There is a snap and crunch as the spike rips free, ripping the stomach wound open a little further and causing a new spray of blood. The elder dragon has taken greater wounds than this, however, and though he issues a hoarse bellow of pain upon impact, he does not allow it to slow or dull his thoughts. Vaidhe's left knee, armoured in spikes like most of those which adorn his shield, is what makes the most gruesome impact as he and his target hit the dirt, eliciting a grunt from the saurian as he pivots and reaches his right arm backward. With his left knee firmly planted somewhere in the neighbourhood of Redovian's manhood, Vaidhe uses his superior size and weight to further the viciousness of his simple assault. A crude axe, formerly fastened to his side, now rests easily in his right hand, and with all the might he can summon, Vaidhe brings it down, intending to behead or otherwise maim the fallen paladin about the neck and throat. To add further insult to injury, Vaidhe rocks his whole body forward and to the left in so doing, meaning to stop Redovian raising his flail-hand for another strike if he can; his unencumbered left hand slams down atop the paladin's gut when he does this, the final coup de grace.
Redovian is unable to to stop his downward fall with the saurian, and lands without grace in any manner of the word upon the sand filled and blood stained floor of Gualon's Arena. Due to the dragon's size, Vaidhe's forward momentum sends him flying into Redovian just moments prior to their fall, thus the smaller and lighter male is sent just that much more backwards, so when they land, the spike-covered knee is just shy of his manhood. But even so, all seems lost as Vaidhe goes for more than just blood. Valiant warrior indeed? This elder being seems little more than a barbaric murderer, as this competition turns deadly quick. But, as if by mere chance, or perhaps divine intervention of an unknown source, the dagger thrown by Piero just moments ago, lands right next to Redovian's free hand. The blade is grasped without a second moments thought as Vaidhe rears back to deliver the would be final blow. But, again, the fallen paladin is the quicker of the two, and the dagger is thrust up with as much strength as Frostmaw's Justice can mutter in that instant to bury the entire length of the seven inch long weapon into Vaidhe's exposed neck. Due to the suarian's wide execution style arc he went for for the axe blow, the unexperienced warrior left himself wide open. As for the savage shaking of his body, that is combated by a firm grip and the paladin wrapping his legs about the dragon so that he brings him into a guarded position. Shake, rattle and roll all he likes, Redovian clings to the larger dragon, as he attempts to drive Vaidhe's own teamates blade into the dragon's juggular. The blow to the sternum lands just off the mark, but does crush two ribs as if their are twigs, the savage pain only fueling the swiftness of Redovian's own attack, which leaves two choices for the elder gold dragon. Deflect the blow, or attempt to follow through and allow the dagger to become housed within his neck, and thus they both die. Redovian feels a darker presence as time seems to slow. The lives of two followers of the light hangs in the balance, and yet, in the darker corners of his mind, the ex-paladin can hear subtle whisperings calling to him. " Yes... give in to death... kill or be killed, for there is not absolution in this world, but one. Everything dies..." Of course no one but Redovian, and mabey Tiphareth, can hear this.
Shien was not so much back turned as he was horizontal. But the point was is that he was vulnerable…Shien wasn't impulsive however, he was always calculating. He sacrificed a much more valuable attack with his spear for the more off balancing attack from his feet. The result was still having the spear for defense. He bounced off Vaidhe's back and onto his feet once more. Unfortunately he lacked spidey senses and had no time to perform a masterful dodge. In time to see the type of attack however, he held his spear shaft perpendicular to the sword swing. Unfortunately the power of the blow cut right through it, and left a long scratch that would easily scar, and the familiar red substance drooled from it. He threw the useless spear aside and drew a dagger, hummed it at Piero to distract and made distance with a quick aerial. He drew the blackwood bow and an arrow, launched one towards Piero's mid section, having no talent for precision and drew another in preparation.
Piero 's body was now solely fueled by adrenaline pumping through his veins and pure excitement. That wicked grin upon his face only stretched further across his face as his enemy tossed the spear to the side. Heavy breaths were drawn in as he swiped his weapon at the dagger coming after him. A loud clank hissed as his accuracy has never failed him. However, his attempt at sidestepping the arrow failed. The arrow launched at him, struck him deep within the left side of his chest. Sinking in deeply passed his armor. The red liquid of life quickly seeped from the wound, rending his left arm numb and useless. The pain was almost too much. Almost. Piero bit his own tongue, using pain to bring his mind back to reality. In a last hope of victory Piero flung the light sword towards his opponent. Without a weapon to defend he was sure it would cause damage. Piero moved again, grabbing the spear tip which lay upon the ground and dove at Redovian with it. Swinging it at the man wrapped up with Vaidhe. Death or Victory. He thought. His mind obviously in a false awareness due to pain. The spear tip in question was aimed at the side of Redovian, in an attempt to help his teammate escape from the assault.
Vaidhe is a creature that has survived many previous battles with greater beings than this purely because of his desire to be ruthless when it is necessary, to meet force with force and bloodletting with greater bloodletting still. He is also a creature willing to sacrifice in order to achieve his ends...but in this instance, calmly rescinding all claims upon life seems too high a price to pay for sport. So believing, Vaidhe grinds the claws of his firmly-planted left hand in even deeper and flattens himself out even as Redovian's dagger first touches and then attempts to plunge into his neck. Vaidhe sprawls forward and to the left, neatly leaving a window of opportunity even more widely open for Piero's last-minute attack, and the result is that instead of having his throat pierced to the blade's full length, the dragon is gashed with the tip instead, spilling a runnel of blood down his already bloody chest. His body hits Redovian's belly and chest with a thunk, left arm pinned beneath it and still digging toward the man's heart. The axe, having flown free of the dragon's right hand, clatters out of easy reach without having tasted blood. Vaidhe's left shoulder is awkwardly pressed against the ground and his left arm cannot escape the weight of the body to which it is attached, but the dragon's claws are relentless, and Vaidhe's right hand, still outflung, curls into a fist and drives toward the side of Redovian's head. Since Redovian's knife-arm has launched its attack from within the circle of Vaidhe's own right arm, the one previously wielding the axe, tightening that circle drives the dagger away from its lethal target for a moment...a tiny space of time in which the ravages of digging claws and the simple terrible impact of a saurian fist against his cranium might rob Redovian forevermore of the ability to do anyone greater harm. Right arm outflung, left arm pinned, back aching and with blood flowing freely from two places, Vaidhe snatches breath after breath, praying that he will hold onto life long enough to see his foe permanently subdued.
Jerica actually came into the arena very nearly after the fight and found a place to sit not too far from Eboric. Probably near Rawnie. Settling into a seat and appearing bored, Jerica kept an alert eye out for anything or anyone suspicious.
Redovian had his legs wrapped about Vaidhe for the most part, and so when the dragon sprawled out, the man knew to stay upon the ground meant death, as it seemd this saurian beast was out for his life, lost like an animal in the lust for the kill. A pity one could be so bloodthirsty and still have the favor of the gods, yet Redovian is cast aside by his. This though boils the blood of the ex-paladin, as the pain of Vaidhe's claws digging into the thick leather armro he wears draws his attention. With adept skill, Redovian grasps the large arm of his opponent that tries to claw the former champion of Kanos' innards out, and swings about, using the soft sand to his advantage. The dark cloak he wears, the one just gifted to him by Tiphareth, comes into play. No magic, no divine power. The long cloak is used to conceal the man as Vaidhe's, yet again, would be life ending blow comes down, connecting with the side of the humanoid skull helmet he was handed by Eboric at the start of this fight. The clipping blow shatters the helmet into fragments, just as Piero's blow with the broken spear head comes in. Having control of Vaidhe's arm, meaning a firm grip upon it, Redovian uses the dragon's large stature to act as his saving grace. Curate of Vakmatharas cloak whipping about in the commotion, and making sure to avoid the spiked knee guards of the dragon's vicious metal armor, the former paladin kicks at weapon, the jagged shaft left being at least a foot, Redovian parries the blow to avoid a critical blow, and instead finds himself with a long slash upon the entire length of his now exposed leg. So, wiggling about in the sand like some madman, avoiding claws, life ending power blows and sneak attacks from Piero, while having his left cheek torn asunder, two ribs shattered and his left leg cut open, the paladin uses the last of his strength to roll several feet away, and rise to one knee, his breath coming in ragged gasps now, as blood oozes from his various wounds, staining his new cloak with his precious life's essence.
Shien was mostly unarmored, and unarmed with a weapon he could use defensively. BUT, he had distance, and that was his defense this time. The one thing that was critical was that if it hit him perfectly, blade straight into him, it would pierce him and probably kill him. That's the thing to avoid at all costs. He had the distance, but due to the fault that awarded him a bleeding wound, not the agility. So there was no utter dodge. He ducked low and avoided getting impaled, but the sword slid by his shoulder, imparting a laceration through his heavy shoulder pad and into his skin. Such was the laceration that half his shoulder pad fell off and into the dirt.
Redovian breaths is ragged gasps, his broken ribs making it hard to fill his lungs. He stays kneeling, as his left leg is almost useless, and his left cheek continues to bleed horribly.
Eboric rises from his seat, looking down at the arena floor, and the wearied, bloodied fighters there. He speaks, his voice loud enough to cut over the noise of battle, "Vaidhe, Piero, finish it!" His verdict is given, the two named obviously chosen as the better fighters this day.
Redovian sighs as he seems unable to do anything, his strength gone. Was he truly worth nothing anymore? He almost welcomed death.
Vaidhe is lying on the arena floor, face-down in a spreading pool of his own blood when the verdict comes. Inch by painful inch he raises himself up, first to hands and knees and finally to a shaky upright stance. Blood pours from his stomach and from the smaller slash in his neck. He hobbles toward Redovian, the sounds around him swimmy and strange with his rather faint state of consciousness. He stands, lifts a clawed foot as if to kick, but it is clear that neither his body nor his heart are in the blow as he stumbles forward. Instead of driving cleanly for the man's bloodied face, Vaidhe slashes his shoulder, a groove likely to be somewhat padded by - but not completely avoided by - the man's armour. "I have hurt you enough." Vaidhe's voice is gravelly, raspy but surprisingly loud. "And you have hurt yourself far more." Offering the man no further insult to his admittedly battered person, Vaidhe turns, stumbles once more, and begins to lumber in dazed stupor out of the arena. He sees light ahead, a shimmering field of late evening radiance from the eastern door, but before he can reach it, the mighty beast's legs buckle, and he folds almost gracefully to the ground.
Rawnie turns to Eboric, and with a wave meant to garner the were-bear's attention, she indicates Vaidhe with a jerk of her thumb. "Want me to go take care of him?"
Piero shakily rises to his feat, adrenaline was no longer pounding through his veins. Excitement was all that kept him going. The sheer idea that he and Vaidhe were chosen as the victors, was more than enough to spur these final moments. Piero grabbed the other half of the broken spear, the wooden shaft and walked towards Shien, grinning the whole way. Step by step carried this injured warrior for the finale of it all. The wooden end of the spear was swung side ways at the temple of his opponent, shattering the weapon upon his mask easily. "I am Piero" He roared, still too caught up in the excitement. There had been to much blood this day, none more was needed. Piero raised his good arm and took the moment in.
Redovian is struck by the saurian's powerful blow, his armor having been torn asunder in their battle. Blood sprays as flesh is torn from the man's shoulder, staining the arena floor red. The fallen paladin collapses, his many wounds bleeding profusley, all the while that subtle presence, that voice in the dark whispers to him. " Yes... allow death in... welcome it... be one with me..."
Eboric vaults from his seat, motioning for Rawnie to accompany him as he heads for Vaidhe's prone body. Once there, he unwraps a golden wring from around his arm, clasping it over the dragon's own. "Well done, Ieldest Thegn," he says quietly, before turning to Rawnie. "Heal him." The order, while curt, isn't meant to be rude, of course. The warlord moves over to Piero. "You fought well today," he says. "And I have need of fighters in my warband. There is a place for you, if you are willing to swear to me." As if just noticing the man's battered state, he adds, "Think on it, while you heal."
Shien plunked into the ground unconscious. Snoring gently. Bleeding profusely.
Jerica glances boredly at the snoring bleeder on the arena floor. Most of her attention is fixed on the others, especially Piero. Jerica doesn't know the gypsy all that well. Actually, not at all. But if Eboric thinks she's a good enough healer then Jerica won't offer her meager battlefield healing skills to the mix.
Piero eyes the man Eboric for a few moments, listening to him speak. "I will seek you out, once I have been healed." The arrow digging in a little as he spoke. A heavy breath was drawn in as Piero wearily exited the arena. He had won a grand fight this day, but at what cost?
Rawnie trails after Eboric to the prone figure of Vaidhe to silently examine the severity of the fighter's wounds. The gypsy will definitely heal the dragon pending his return.
Redovian lies upon sand covered arena floor still, blood rushing forth from his wounds, the fallen paladin bleeding to death.