Duel:Vornir v Zurlini

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(Vornir def. Zurlini)

Location: Execution Drop Off
Duelists:  Vornir, Zurlini
Judges: Eyren,  Acheron,  Satoshi
Stakes: Death, winner gets Frostmaw
Time limit: Fifteen Minutes



Execution Drop Off

Should you have followed to tracks north to this location, you see blood sprayed among the snow over a large smooth stone. The executioners stone, to your knowledge must have been used not long ago, as the crimson life staind upon it is only a few hours old. Beyond the stone is a straight drop to certain death below, and as you look over the side, you see many frozen, decapitated bodies, some old, some new. It is clear what the frost giants and members of Vlos Lustrous do to criminals as you have found. You can either go back the way in which you came, or you could venture to the east through a set of giant obsidian doors.


Zurlini is a avian and seems to be a ranger. Zurlini is wearing white-leather vest on his body, fedora on his head, black-leather pants on his legs, and nothing on his feet. Zurlini is using twin-dark steel daggers as a weapon. Zurlini is using bullseye lantern as a shield. Zurlini has green eyes, light skin, and blonde hair, and is single.


Vornir is a giant and a paladin. Vornir is wearing Black-Ice-Glowing Breastplate on his body, Everfrost-Tribal-Enchanted Circlet on his head, Black-Ice-Stud on his left ear, Black-Ice-Stud on his right ear, Black-Ice-Shoulder Guards on his shoulders, Black-Ice-Plated Sleeve on his left arm, Black-Ice-Plated Sleeve on his right arm, Blue-Iron-Plated Gloves on his hands, Meteriorc Iron Band on his left wrist, Meteriorc Iron Band on his right wrist, Black-Ice-Plated Leggings on his legs, and Blue-Iron-Plated Boots on his feet. On one of his left fingers, you see Black-Ice-Carved Ring. On one of his right fingers, you see Ring of-the Empire. He is using Axe of-Northern-Winds as a weapon. He is using Black-Ice-Large Shield as a shield. He has blue eyes, pale skin, and blonde hair, and is single.


Vornir Brimirsson stands proudly, clad in his full battle gear, which consists of a mix of blue iron armor, and black ice, the former being dark in hue, contrasting with the giant's pale skin and fair hair, which is bound back tightly, tucked beneath a ring of white that encircles his forehead, graven with symbols that denote his status: Jarl Ezezil's emblem, Aramoth's war-axe, and Vornir's own crest: an Ice Falcon rising into the air, clutching an axe, all these colored in with pigment. The entire band is crafted from enchanted ice, sculpted with all the skill of the giants. His long, carefully-trimmed beard is braided into a myriad of plaits, which fall over the northern warrior's chest like a golden waterfall, adding to his imposing appearance. Strapped to his left arm is an oblong shield, a full eight feet in width and twice that in height, made of enchanted black ice. The edges of this shield are ground down to make one continuous, wickedly sharp blade. In his gauntleted right hand rests an axe, in the bearded style. While the haft is simple oak, the head is blue iron, yet white with hoarfrost, never-melting. Strapped to the Champion's armored back is a dark scythe, its blade covered in a black cloth. He has placed himself beside the bloody executioner's stone, icy blue eyes fixed on the entrance to the area. When Zurlini appears there, the light of righteous anger sparks in those eyes, while his finger tighten on the oaken axe handle. A simple two steps is all it takes for the massive man to reach his foe, his booted feet creating vast craters in the snow-covered ground. Without even so much as a word of greeting or challenge, Vornir hefts the axe, splitting the air in a keen whistle as he whirls the blade in a slow, sweeping arc. The blade seems to be misdirected, for it is moved out to stop behind Zurlini, not even the shaft connecting with the giant's foe. However, the true nature of the assault becomes apparent almost at once, when the frost giant gives the axe a vicious yank, pulling it swiftly back toward himself. The hooked 'beard' of the axe is positioned to ensnare the avian around the torso, to trip him up and jerk him forward along with the weapon, if not sever his legs from his body altogether. Brimirsson's iron-shod foot lifts a measure into the air, tilting to show the bottom of his boot, which is riddled with spikes meant to give traction on ice. These points, aimed at Zurlini, stand ready to impale him if he's thrown forward, while Vornir keeps his shield at the ready, every wary of a counter-attack.

Zurlini scoffs as his fluid like wings cock back. "The bigger they are the dumber they seem." The avian moves his long thick hands swiftly for his dark steel blades as keen as razors,anticipating the behemoth of a man darting toward him. His fists now balled around his knifes as he seems to have little care shown on his face, though a shimmer of fear crosses the rangers optics. He begins to move slowly to the right almost as if he was lacksadaisel over this whole ordeal. The fumble beast misses him. "Was this luck or just merely that simple" he muttered through his teeth softly.After shrugging he flips one of the dagger so the blade between finger and his thumb, preparing it as a projectile toward the big paladin. As the blade is launched the same motion is followed with the other in tended to pierce his skin.

Vornir stumbles a bit as his attack somehow misses completely, overbalancing and the attempt to right himself giving Zurlini's knives a chance to hit. The first simply glances off the giant's pauldrons, leaving not even a scratch to tell the tale of its passing. The second, however, finds a small chink between plates of armor, and the paladin's thick, dark blood begins to ooze, almost lazily in the frigid air, down the armor. Vornir lets out a grunt of irritation, and lumbers about, turning as quickly as he may until he faces his foe once more. Slowly Vornir's lips draw back into a sort of half-grin, more terrifying than any snarl. Now his hand slides up the axe handle toward its head, leaving a long length of oak at the end, which he now swings with terrifying force toward the avian's body, intending to knock him to the ground. Then is the gigantic shield raised up, and then brought down abruptly, with an equally tremendous amount of power. The sharpened bottom edge of the shield is set on a course for Zurlini's neck, if the axe had done its job, or just the avian in general, if he should somehow have kept his feet. Even then, the mighty warrior isn't done, for while the shield is swinging, the axe continues its motion, sliding in Vornir's grip once more, then reversing direction, whistling down again like some massive pendulum, bringing the bearded blade back toward Zurlini's form, a roar escaping the giant at the same time, vocalizing both the exertion and ecstacy of combat.

Zurlini shrills is horror as his left arm taking cleanly off by the giants amazing strength. the avian crashing to ground leaving himself vulnerable for another attack. Was this the end he thought or was this only the beginning. The ranger rolls onto his chest letting his wing take most of the damage from the hell blade of shield strikes. What was he thinking? Was he caving so soon? He would need a miracle or something of that magnitude to keep going. He had never been this hurt in his short life. He was always pampered. More and more the giants shield struck him. Only thing on the avains mind was to-avoid the axe, another blow from it would be fatal. "There has to be something" he hissed through his teeth. His pools seemed to scream of desperation as the scan the cold surface of the the ground where his last grasp of a chance lied in the balance. His right arm now working like a probe to find anything. A rock, maybe some dirt to throw in the giants eyes, their had to be something. Finally a break he had fount this dismember arm through all the chaos.Quick witting he decides to that his only weapon. He plants broken wing one the cold earth blow him causing him, to spring back to his feet. This was his only chance he had to take it. With a fit of rage and anxiety he charges the giant hoping to catch him of gaurd. His hand firmly around the wrist of his once was. He begins to swing hope to knock the beast unconscious.

Vornir is, quite simply, taken aback. For a time he can do nothing but hold his shield before him, absorbing the blows while he tries to decide what to do. He stays standing straight, so the bloody weapon has no chance of hitting his head and causing any chance damage, as Vornir is, after all, over seventeen feet tall. After enduring this bizarre attack for a short time, the giant seems to decide to act once again, for he reverses his axe, carefully sliding the frosty blade in between two plates of armor on his leg. The blood flow starts, and Vornir cries out. Almost immediately, his patron god makes an appearance, for the blood shed acts as a fitting sacrifice to draw Aramoth to his chosen warrior. Without warning the war god's fury floods into the giant's form, blotting out the pain from his wounds and filling him with only the desire to shed more blood, to feed the hungry god his gory feast. It is but a half-frenzy, however, for all the while Vornir fights with his own emotions, struggling to remain in control. In this partially-crazed state of mind, Jarl Ezezil's Champion launches his assault once more, lashing wildly at Zurlini with the axe, attempting to drive him back toward the stone. The shield is utilized too, as Vornir punches with it, held at an angle to make use of the edge, hoping to dismember his enemy, or catch him between the two vicious blades.

Zurlini tries to flee as the giant vicious blades come for his crippled body. He searches for his blade but its too late. The only thing he can do is run. "I'm sorry he screams please spare me." his pleads almost pathetic What else could he do. The giant was obviously to big for him to take on.


Eyren said, "ooc Vornir unanimously wins. Nice effort Zurlini. You gave your best I'm sure."


Vornir now unsheathes the scythe from his back, pulling the dark cover from the blade. This is the legendary Scythe of Xaneroth, once wielded by the wraith Jesserios Lyastri, capable of stealing souls. Vornir shudders visibly as he touches the vile weapon, but stoicly persues his broken and battered foe. One hand reaches down to take Zurlini by the neck, and drags him over to the execution stone. He places the avian on top of the rock, with his head hanging off the end, facing the drop. "And so," Vornir shouts, his voice echoing loudly, "Vlos Lustrous's champion has failed. As agreed to, they must now vacate this land, as this avian vacates his life." With that, the scythe rises and falls in a single, swift motion, stealing Zurlini's soul as his head bounces down the cliff, followed soon by his lifeless body.


Winner: Vornir, unanimous.

Vornir = 3-0