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| Brutal Kombat [P]; Private: Doron | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mon Aug 20, 2012 8:24 pm (931 Views) | |
| Oldman | Mon Aug 20, 2012 8:24 pm Post #1 |
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Krent had followed the clues to a piece of a special tablet, he needed it to find some old ruins in the Dark Lands, ruins that held a lot of importance to the warriors of his old tribe... but why it was located in Imythess of all places was a mystery to him. He had found out a piece of the tablet was kept by an eccentric rich man that hosted his own fighting tournaments, and the tablet was one of the special prizes if you could win ten fights in a row, with this in mind Krent entered the challenge, hoping to show the warriors how a man with burning spirit fights. The first match ended with one of the simplest of martial arts moves, his foe was larger and much angrier then he thought a warrior should be. He stepped forward quickly, stepping inside his attacks, delivering a strong blow to his stomach, causing the man to fall on top of Krent... and Krent simply pushed him to the side to let the man gasp in pain. That was what got the attention of other warriors, Krent had become a topic of interest to the other warriors. He fought barehanded in his next three fights against men and women that used swords and axes, but they stood no chance as Krent used his swift kicks to completely dominate the fight. The snapping kicks caught their jaws and necks, taking down the foes with relative ease. The other fights passed by like a violent blur, even taking on a pair of twins for the eighth and ninth fight combined, but the two had been humbled as Krent only used a long oak rod to beat them into the ground. He gave the oak rod back to the people he had borrowed it from, laughing as the twins thanked him for the fight. The two were good, but not as good as Krent, but now... not a single man or woman seemed to want to challenge him. Krent looked at the crowd and shouted out, "Come! I will take on all comers and I will fight without a single weapon! Or if it makes you more comfortable I can use one of my two signature weapons, Summer Gale or The Twister!" He laughed again as he waited for his next challenge, he would simply refuse to leave until his final fight would take place. |
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| Doron | Sat Aug 25, 2012 2:19 am Post #2 |
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Doron Unthar easily towered over the rest of the small crowd that had gathered to watch the lord's tournament. Within the ruin's dilapidated walls, a number of fighters and curious spectators had come to fight for promised rewards if they could claim victory. The large, dwarven-raised man didn't care about any form of material prize. It was the honor and challenge that he had sought, and that had led him to travel the many miles in the hope of finding powerful opponents. If he could overcome them, perhaps news would spread to the tribal council, and even if they disliked the idea of raising him amongst the ranks of their most respected warriors, as a true member of the tribe they couldn't refuse if he proved his worth. Unfortunately, upon arrival he had learned that fighters were no longer being accepted. Disappointed, he had still stayed to watch the fights. Truthfully, he hadn't had much opportunity to see how the other races of Imythess did battle. His own tribe was set in their ways, and only by branching out could he acquire the strength he desired. One man in paticular had crushed his opposition, earning the respect and fear of his opponents and those watching. He was elderly, Doron knew by the graying hair, but carried himself with the speed and strength of one much younger, proving himself time and time again to be a true warrior. The time came for the final fight, but the man's overwhelming sucess proved to be too much, and as he waited, not a single person stepped forward to accept his challenge. The crowd fell silent, some stirring uncomfortably as the man called out to them, demanding an opponent. Doron did not hesitate. Using his size to easily clear a path through the crowd, he stepped into the battlefield. He was clad in hide armor patched together from slain trolls, with twin hammers slid through loops in his belt, with two bulky, curious devices similar to gauntlets on his hands and forearms, with thick metal plates resting on the back of his hands. The armor was sleeveless, displaying a tattoo of a dragon on his shoulder. The battlefield itself was faily simple, though bits of the crumbling ruin were strewn about on the ground, and there was a sturdy wall on one end. "I, Doron, warrior of Ka'Varik'Than," he said proudly through his thick words, tapping himself on the chest. "Accept challenge of the old man. Will fight whatever weapon old man wants. Doron prove strength against opponent!" He smiled eagerly. Rumors of his victory here would surely spread. |
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| Oldman | Mon Aug 27, 2012 12:24 am Post #3 |
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Krent nodded to the man, but when he heard his name, his mind twisted it into someone he once knew in the past, a renowned berserker from the mountains, who went by the simple name of Shamshir. Krent nodded to the man as three men carried in his weapons, one of them held a double sided trident while the other two were needed to carry a massive blade. Krent took the items from them and thrust them into the ground, looking back to the man he thought was called Shamshir, "We will see if you are worthy of me using a weapon, I have lost very few battles when I take up Summer Gale, now lets see if you are worthy of more then my fists!" With that Krent rushed him, sending a left jab at his stomach, after that he brought his right elbow across, trying to strike his jaw, but this was just a starting attack. He used the movements of the sweeping elbow to send himself into a high kick at his foe's neck, but this blow didn't matter, during the movements he quickly bent his knee and sprang upwards as he spun, bringing his foot down at the man's head. Krent knew he was quick enough and strong enough to recover from the attack, but this was all just a test, to see if this man was truly worthy of fighting him with a weapon. |
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| Doron | Mon Aug 27, 2012 11:38 pm Post #4 |
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Doron's smile grew beneath his beard and he widened his stance. If the man wanted him to prove his might, he would be glad to show him the prowess of the Ka'Varik'Than. He waited for this opponent to attack, leaving his weapons undrawn. He would match fist with fist. When the man did move, he did so quickly, closing the distance between them and swinging his fist forward. It collided hard against his stomach, the impact bashing through fat and sending his breath gushing from his mouth. He saw the following blow and twisted his shoulder forward to block the striking elbow. The broader surface and thicker muscle did a much better job of absorbing the attack, though it still sent him staggering a few steps, completely exposing his head for the incoming kick. The flurry of blows was a harsh lesson. Doron had never been able to properly spar against others; the size difference between him and the dwarves of his tribe made it impossible. He had next to no experience in unarmed combat, except for one lesson that had been hammered into his head. He was strong and agressive, and those traits should be used to overcome more agile foes. He roared and rushed forward towards the man as he was leaping. The movement made the potentially devastating kick collide with his back instead of his head. Pain radiated from the point of impact, but by then he was already striking forward with both fists at the warrior's torso, dual blows aimed to knock the fast little fighter away and give him breathing room. |
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| Oldman | Tue Aug 28, 2012 4:34 am Post #5 |
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Krent felt his attacks hit with the same fluid grace that he had practiced all his life, but once he landed he saw the two punches strike at him with his leg still in the air. He brought up both arms as he slammed his foot to the ground, bringing his hands forward, twisting his wrists and forearms to knock the arms to the side, following by leading them farther, completely missing Krent's body, he swept his hands down, making a full circle as he thrust them forward, using a quick step in to increase his strength, using his foe's momentum to add even more power to his double rising palm strike. Krent had lifted men off their feet with this move, he knew the force could even kill, but the thick muscles would stop him from being killed, not all men were so blessed. Once the movements were complete Krent finished it off with another short attack strategy, he stepped back into Doron's reach and jumped up towards him, his right knee seeking his throat. This was a strong attack, but stronger when combined with his left knee, which he swung upwards, trying to smash it into the side of Doron's head. |
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| Doron | Thu Aug 30, 2012 11:55 pm Post #6 |
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The two punches were futile. The old warrior used his forearms to move the strikes harmlessly to the side, and Doron's own momentum lead him forward, straight into the man's open palms. The force of the blows stopped him in his tracks, and it felt like he had straight into brick wall, one that not only halted him but hit back. His weight helped keep him from flying completely back, and tolerance for pain built up from fighting most of his adult life let him bite back the groan that wanted to escape. The man wasn't done with his attacks yet. He stepped forward, once again using his legs as weapons. It was more reflex than training that made Doron turn, the knees striking his chest and right arm instead of the fragile cartilage of his throat. Those blows could knock one unconcious if not kill, and he knew then that he couldn't afford to play around in a petty test of pride anymore. "Enough!" Doron shouted in dwarvish, the words likely unintelligble to the spectators. He reverted back to his shaky common. "Have weapons for reason!" Hurriedly stepping back a few paces, he snatched from it's loop and hurled it towards the warrior with all of his considerable strength. The weapon spun viciously as it flew through the air, and while it was in transit, he reached down to pull the metal plate on his right hand down over his fist with a solid, metallic clank. With that down, he held back out his left hand. Miss or hit, the weapon would return to him at his will. |
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| Oldman | Fri Aug 31, 2012 7:36 pm Post #7 |
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Krent felt his knees connect tough flesh, it seemed the large man had some good reflexes and twisted to the side, protecting his neck from Krent's assault. He heard the man shout in dwarvish and then switch back to broken common, Krent nodded as berserker threw his weapon towards Krent, which responded with by bringing a hand forward, it looked far to soft, far to weak, but he used the palm of his hand to change the direction ever so slightly, shooting past Krent and back towards his foe's hand. Krent smirked and walked over to his double sided trident, taking it out from the ground. He held it with both hands, and gave it a swift twist in the center, separating them into two short tridents, he held one in each hand and spun them. He nodded to man he thought was called, 'Shamshir', readying himself to fight as he spoke to him in the dwarven tongue, "Speak freely to me in your tongue. You are ready to fight me while I wield my second weapon, but you are not ready for Summer Gale, let us see how you fair against the Twister." He rushed forward as he held one spear behind him and the other to his side, shouting as he ran, "My burning spirit! It's overflowing!" He swung the spear at his head, meaning to hit it with the haft of the trident, as he thrust his other trident at his leg, meaning to slow down his movements. |
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| Doron | Sat Sep 8, 2012 11:38 pm Post #8 |
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His hammer, diverted, flew back to his hand, and he snatched it out of the air. The barbarian was seeing red. He was a warrior, a hero of a tribe descended from slayers of dragons. Though he was of a lowly status, he had been taught by the best. He would not allow an old human to defeat him and spoil the pride of his people. He watched with a hard gaze as his opponent retrieved his two-sided trident and broke it apart into two shorter weapons. A creative way of fighting. He had more experience sparring against polearms, and his confidence rose. Doron rushed forward to meet the man's swings. The apparent comprehension of dwarvish was surprising; he had never met a human that understood the tongue, but he was glad to speak in it. He lifted his voice. "You will see the might of the children of Varik!" The haft of the first spear came whistling towards his head. He ducked beneath it, barely avoiding it as it skimmed his hair. The second spear jabbed towards his leg. He saw it coming, and flipped his wrist, swinging his hammer towards it with an unnaturally fast burst of speed. The metal head deflected the trident's pronged tip with a clash. He tightened his right hand and swung it upward, lifting with his knees as he drove the striker-clad uppercut towards the underside of his foe's left arm. If it connected, the metal plate covering his fist would violently shoot forward with incredible force. The actions only took an instant, adrenaline coursing through his body and hastening his movements. ooc
Edited by Doron, Sat Sep 8, 2012 11:39 pm.
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| Oldman | Mon Sep 10, 2012 2:22 am Post #9 |
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Krent was happy to be in such an exciting fight, but this two attacks missed his foe, the real problem was the armor clad fist coming at his left side, a rather dangerous place to take a crushing blow. He used the momentum from being deflected to help fling himself out of the way. The problem was that it was to late, the fist clipping his arm, but the violent extending steel caused him to spin much faster then he had thought, forcing him to take a rather painful landing. He slid across the ground and lost his hold on his spears, he slowly stood up and looked to his side, his two spears were a ways off... but he was right next to Summer Gale, the massive sword he prized above all else. He mentally went over his body, his legs, chest, and right arm were fine... but his left wrist was sprained, if he had time to rest he would... but now he had to do something he shouldn't... put the entire weight and strain of wielding Summer Gale on one arm. He grabbed it's hilt and ripped the blade out of the ground, he took a lower crouching stance as he positioned the blade behind him, letting the blade rest along the ground. He had to do things in a more unorthodox way... the strain from using the weapon was great, but with one hand... he could do it, but it would be unable to do rapid attacks, he would have to rely on his legs and the weight of the blade. For now he waited, ready to meet his opponent's next string of attacks. |
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| Doron | Wed Sep 12, 2012 4:04 am Post #10 |
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Doron was actually somewhat surprised when he felt the vibration of a connecting hit run through his arm. He had begun to think that the elderly combatant was untouchable. The old fighter was fast and evaded the brunt of the strike, but he knew that the explosive might of the dwarven-crafted device was such that even a glancing blow would hurt. He grinned through his beard. Surely Varik himself was guiding his hand. The man was a worthy opponent, the first capable human he had the joy of testing himself against. It was for trials like these that he had left his mountain home. The man had abandoned his spears in favor of the simply massive sword that he had referred to as Summer Gale. A curiously long-hilted weapon, Doron could see why it was so prized by the warrior. Perhaps caution would have been a better way to approach the new threat, but he was not a man of patience, and he decided to press the advantage he had. Throwing defense to the wind, he drew his second hammer, and with both hands armed he charged towards his foe, rapidly closing the distance. As he came within range, his height forced him to bend his knees so that he could strike. His weapons twisted in his hands, the left swinging low towards the man's upper right arm in a quicker strike while he swung his other behind him before bringing it in an arc down at the man's left arm like a smith striking at steel, a slower but utterly vicious blow that made full use of his strength. His outstretched arms left him entirely open, but he could hope that the crushing offensive would keep his opponent too busy to strike back. Either way, once the attacks finished the man would notice that his previously enhanced speed had faded. Clarification
Edited by Doron, Wed Sep 12, 2012 4:14 am.
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| Oldman | Thu Sep 13, 2012 2:11 am Post #11 |
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When Krent saw him rush forward he waited until he deemed it the right time, he swung his blade in front of him and used it as a giant shield to take both of his attacks, it caused him stagger back a few inches, but the weight of the sword helped keep him from being completely overwhelmed. Now it was Krent's turn to attack, he brought the sword low and with one arm swept it up, trying to cut the man's left leg off at the knee, he started to grit his teeth and swing the blade around the as toll it took on his arm took effect, the weapon was incredibly heavy and usually needed two hands, Krent would need a few days of recuperation after this fight. Now wasn't the time to think about that, he swung the sword back, twisting his wrist to change the slash into a smashing attack, using the massive flat side of the blade, trying to knock the man he thought was 'Shamshir', to the side so he could drop his massive weapon and try to get inside his swings, if he wanted to win he needed to get up close and personal, use his shorter reach to his advantage, bury himself into his chest and punch at his stomach, he would need to rely on his fists and feet to finish this fight. |
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| Doron | Sun Sep 23, 2012 3:08 am Post #12 |
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Dual cries of connecting metal rent the air as his hammers struck, one after the other, against his opponent's massive sword. Doron's own breath was heavy in his ears; his assault left him winded, and he knew that he needed to press the attack or back away if he wanted to avoid a counterattack, but he didn't have the chance before the man began to swing his sword around, a slow attack with the use of only one hand, but the sheer size of the weapon meant that he couldn't escape it's range in time. He did the only thing he could do to avoid getting cut in half. As it came within range, he swung one hammer towards it, attempting a last second parry. The force behind his weapon did indeed deflect it from it's course, but the sheer momentum of such a heavy blade kept it carrying forward. He caught it with his second hammer, trying to force it to stop. He cried out as it dragged along the side of his calf, practically skinning part of his leg. His opponent brought the blade back and swung again, this time with the flat. It collided hard with him, sending him stumbling and falling to the ground thanks to his injured leg. One of his hammers went flying from his hand, and an attempt to summon it back told him that it was one lacking that power. He could feel the trickle of blood from the crimson gash. Even if nothing vital was damaged, a wound like that would eventually result in disorientation, loss of stamina, and he would collapse from simple blood loss. A battle finisher. From his face-down position on the ground, he could see tournament medics glancing at one another and watching him closely. He sneered at them. "It doesn't matter how powerful you are, old human! I was raised by survivors of the plains of flaming ice!" He pushed himself up to his knees, and then on his legs. Something was wrong with his left leg; he could still use it, but whatever had been cut shot enough pain through his skull to make him want to pass out. "You're just a human! I won't fall!" He snarled, spittle flying from his mouth as his face contorted. The pain became a faint thing tickling the back of his mind; right now, all that mattered was crushing a foe and preserving honor. With a roar, he stomped towards his opponent, throwing the hammer in his left hand at the man's torso. It spun as it flew, and this time, he did not wait to try calling it back. He ran after it, and as he came within range he reached an arm behind the warrior, attempting to grab the back of his head and shove it forward as he brought his own skull down in a brutal headbutt. Pressure on his leg was causing it to bleed even more, but at the moment he wasn't thinking about that, or the kind of damage he was dealing to himself by continuing to fight. ooc
Edited by Doron, Sun Sep 23, 2012 3:09 am.
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| Oldman | Sun Sep 23, 2012 3:53 am Post #13 |
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Krent grinned and laughed, his eyes spoke of an untold madness that was so familiar with the wandering warriors of Choer, he was in love with the fight, in love with the burning spirit and resolve to fight. When Doron finished speaking Krent shouted out his own speech, "Human or not! I am Krent Almen, Kensei of Choer, the Saint of Fist and Blade! I have trained all over Chaon to perfect my arts, now taste the power of my burning spirit! I am also not old! I am barely in my twenties!" With that he caught the hammer as he came spiraling towards him, he let himself start to twist around as the hammer's momentum carried him around in a circle. Krent used his own whip like motions to send the hammer right back at Doron. When the man reached to force a headbutt Krent grinned and stepped in, sending his left fist at Doron's face and his fight at his stomach. Once the motions were complete he brought his hands back and used his right for palm strike up at the jaw of 'Shamshir', while his left struck at the center of the man's chest. His wrists hurt and he could feel them ready to break, but he had to do a single finishing move, something to stop the fight, and with that he brought his right foot across, doing a quick sweeping kick at Doron's injured leg, trying to force the match to end before someone got to seriously hurt. |
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| Doron | Sun Sep 30, 2012 6:57 pm Post #14 |
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"Rrrrgh!" The warrior's fist crashed against his face, causing spots to explode in front of his eyes, which disappeared just as quickly as burning adrenaline eroded his mind, erasing thought except for one crucial objective; crush the old human standing before him. A little bit of pain here and there was nothing. His own breathing was haggard as he tried to overwhelm the fighter through sheer momentum, forcing his way through the following punches. His ears rang as a strike hit his jaw, forcing his head to snap up. He brought it back down, snarling with rage. On the other hand, no matter how furious or determined he was, nothing could force a body to ignore pure reflex. His leg began to buckle as the man kicked at it, causing him to begin to drop heavily to the ground. Instead, he leapt forward with his one good leg, bringing it up as he jumped towards the warrior in an attempt to ram the knee against his chest. If his opponent did nothing, pure momentum would have Doron's full weight fall on top of him. The barbarian reached both arms out as he closed the distance, intending to lock them behind the man's back in a crushing bear hug strong enough to force the breath out of any healthy human's lungs. |
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| Oldman | Mon Oct 1, 2012 2:42 am Post #15 |
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Krent had to admire the warrior's tenacity... but he was stupid, leaping off one leg in a fight was a bad idea unless it was to dodge a strike at his legs. When he was up in the air Krent smiled, sliding his leg back and crouching down, keeping himself perfectly still, this stance would make it hard to move him... and to charging foes it would be like charging a steel bar. He brought up his fists and shot both fists at his and neck, trying to knock out his foe in one shot. He felt the fists collide and he slid back, he felt his wrists give, snapping the bones like twigs. He growled in pain as he was sent a few steps back... this man was insane, strong, and was just a lump of raw potential. Krent grinned, "You must be trained by me! I demand it!" With that he fought through the pain, spinning around to deliver a round house kick to his head, once his foot was back on the ground he jumped, using the last of his strength to bring a spinning heel kick at the young warrior's jaw, trying to knock him out before either of them was seriously injured. |
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