Fight:Kurlurk v Mathias
Format: OOC spar
- 3 posts each + final defense.
- 10 min limit
- No stakes
Arena
The scent of sweat mixed with blood wafts through the air, filling your nostrils with a stench so overpowering that you stop in your tracks. The flooring is made of a loose compound of crushed rock and sand, an easy mixture to make and cover up whatever horrors lie beneath it as you notice you walk up a slight incline every few feet. The high spiked walls surrounding this enclosed arena are stained with crimson, azure, and other various tones from all the diverse creatures that have met their death or lost a limb or two. Ragged clothing, blemished with drips of blood hang from a random spike as cowardly foes tried to escape, only to meet their end in a gruesome fashion from unruly crowds. A mysterious orb is locked within a crystal ball atop a single pillar to the extreme north, its effects known as you remember seeing a plaque upon your entrance: No Magic Allowed. In a cage to the north, you notice a creature gripping onto a barred door, eagerly waiting to escape though appearing as if he could do so at anytime. To the south lay a similar enclosure, but with a different monster letting out a repulsive cry as it waits for battle. This is the arena. Victors and losers are born here. Turn back, or step up to the challenge. A Large pulsing portal hovers in the centre of this arena. A Dead Preklek is here. A Dead Preklek is here.
Kurlurk stood inside the Arena, the massive orb to the north was obviously there for more than show, one of magic would have no chance in this arena that was made for the more battle hardened races of Hollow. The orc looked to the stands where few people would now be, a couple orcs feeding on what was left of a couple prekleks at the far end of the arena caught his attention as well. Death smelled heavily in the air, and the orc loved it, blood would soon cover his blade and the thought of which drove his battle hungry nature even further. Making one final look around the Arena his eyes would fall then upon the avian on the opposite end of the blood soaked battlefield. A light wind blew in from the east and whipped his torn cape about slightly along with the rest of his garments which appeared to be the remnants of once fine clothing. “Me want food, birdman not much, but Kurlurk like Chicken!” he would shout as he rushed forward for the avian, a frontal assault, pulling both hand axe’s from his side he prepared them for his enemy, should he be able to reach him in time he would slice first with in a diagonal slash downwards before attempting another with his other axe from a different angle. The Falchion he wore upon his back may be used if indeed the axe’s proved to be useless against such an enemy. The avian would be cautious in taking the assault or even fully blocking it, for no matter how much the birdman had trained, his physical strength could never hope to match that of the powerful orc.
Mathias had walked into the arena on one of his wanderings and had not fully prepared for what awaited him, the stench of blood, the crowd and most importantly his abllity to enchant his arrows should he need to do so. This he realised had been a fatal mistake as the energeys were taken from him by force at the whim of the orb that adorned the arena. As his eyes focused on his surroundings, they did almost to slowly as the form of an Orc rushed at him in an head on assault. raven hued wings unfolded from behind him to propel him into the air, but alas it was not quick enough on his part for the first biting sting of warmth rocked his left leg to the kiss pf the Orcs weapon. With a roar and a howl of animal proprtions he rocketed into the stench leaden sky. After a few breaths of shock absorbed air the bow he held within his hands, now griped with an almost ferral rage was pointed and aimed directly for his aponents crainium. Without a seconds breath the calm winds had been torn assunder by the whistle of not one but three arrows let lose by the Guardian. why he had been attacked was of no concern to him but vengence was his motive. and given such he followed the fight of his projectiles with hawk like accuracy , the vambraces at his wrist reatracting keen mithril daggers as he did so. Upon nearing the Orc, Mathias l;et go his his bow and turned into rampage of swirling blades using his wings as a guide to aid his decent upon his foe. The stench would trow him off but only momentarily as he rushed along the ground to make such a keen blade strike the flesh and spill the earth with blood. (mathias went 7mins over limit here)
Kurlurk smiled as the first slice of his axe drew the avians blood, though it did little to slow him for the avian took off for the skies. The orc paid him little attention as he raised the blade to his mouth and licked away the avians blood with his tongue. Too late would he notice the three arrows heading for him, most would land true to his cranium, however the hard bones of the Orc’s were never to be underestimated. The cranium was the hardest and thickest of their bones, an arrow with no magical intent could never hope to penetrate. And so the three arrows would hit and pierce his skin only to fall to the reddened earth below. The orc would not notice the pain, and the blood that ran down between his eyes was forgotten quickly when he looked up to see the avian rushing towards him. Chucking the first axe wildly but accurately towards the avian and then the next he would pull from his back his trusted falchion. When the avian would be close enough he would jump forward into him, throwing the timing of the avians attacks completely off and putting him face to face with the Orc who was now with his left hand attempting a power drive downward to force the birdlike man to the earth. With his right hand he would then slash outward for the avian if he missed with the power drive, but if he landed the hit, then an attempted stab to the back of the bird would be his next move.
DUEL LEFT INCOMPLETE, MATHIAS IDLED OUT