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Erdawn Il Deus · 07-31-2005, 10:13 PM

-ohchristGodroll!— Three steel prongs slammed into the space where the longhunter had been lying less than seconds ago, coming too close to collapsing his chest cavity for good measure. He slapped a knuckled hand around the shaft and another off the metalworked grid holding the prongs. Heat sloshed out and wrapped around both steels, metal ran soft as putty and hot as fire, melting over the weapon’s point, and just as quickly it cooled and hardened as the Cimmeran drew his heat back. Lucius pulled on the pole, ready to sweep it again and cut his adversary’s throat – his elbows knocked as the pole tightened, stuck fast, and unexpected.

Erdawn lifted his rifle almost languidly.

Blam!

The impact rattled Lu’s bones – something punched into his chest, not piercing the armour but pounding it in, crushing his lungs, making it hard to breath – he was practically knocked off his feet, backpedalling with eyes almost bulging from the sockets and blood from his lips. He hacked loudly, in pain or surprise.

-Need to hurt him drastically, bring this to a close.- Erdawn threw the spent rifle to his side and resolved to make good use of his new vaulting pole – the tight pain in his chest and the hot-stinging screech of wounded flesh thrumming off his leg told him he wouldn’t be able to clear the distance fast enough on foot. As Lucius tried to regain some sense of composure – balance – the longhunter reached up and pulled down on the make-shift halberd with every ounce of strength available, bending it like a willow bow and pushing cords from the tendons in his arms. Lucius struggled forward, cracks striking lines across his armour – an eyebrow raised at whatever the hell Erdawn was trying to do.

The longhunter looked his way, and with a hiss, let snap the pressure. It was like watching a botched trebuchet swing a human being at an English castle. The tension exploded into swinging power and the Cimmeran rode the pole as it whipped him up and around at Lucius like a bullet, letting go at precisely the right moment and stretching out his leg at the opportunity, smashing the business-end of his heel into the warrior’s nose and mouth. Teeth cracked chips of enamel and blood spurted from busted capillaries and Lu’s upper-lip broke like a dam, red misting the air and the hollow thump of impact filling the world. His vision exploded warm and slow with black stars, his head corkscrewing back and to the side and he fell hard on his shoulder blades, sliding across the bumpy floor.

Of course, his attacker fared little better; an interesting idea… but perhaps not the best of choices. Erdawn hit the metal ground in a flop like a hooked fish, the strain on his formerly good like calling insistently with the obnoxious volume of a hammer-blow, his shoulder banging off the ground and the sharp cocking of everything above his shoulders loosing a tooth from his jaws, but he was grinning – through blood and pain. Hell, he could have been smiling. He pushed himself up, stupid pain still antagonizing his body, but smiling, and rolled his shoulders. Lucius was getting up as well, determined to keep fighting despite a temporary spell of confusion by blurred vision and a thundering headache. He slopped blood from his face, trying to fight his enemy with baleful urgency. Erdawn sucked in a calming breath. -I think it’s time to lay down the cards and see how far it takes me,-

He closed his eyes, and thought of nothing. He put everything away – threw it into a bonfire of mental power and let nothing distract him, taking advantage of Lu’s delusion, and in that void he sought out faces, his teacher Yuri, his wife, his father – and through them other faces. Faces terrible and awesome and gentle and beautiful – and suddenly strength flowed into his core and radiated from the cavity of his chest, burning hot-white and baking his skin. The face and paws of Mir burned the air around him in a godly silhouette – the Maker of Earth, the Bear, its pelt of long silver hair glittering like the stuff of stars and its eyes swirling with the knowledge and care of all life and strengh – the muscles of his arms sparked with energy, spitting hot white from his elbows to his knuckles and fingernails, tightening into iron-hard balls.

Mir, the Earth, and then the Sky, and the shattering roar of cerulean emptiness, rain and sundered spears of lightning and wind and storms drew itself up alongside the Earth, a brilliant white tiger, Shardik the Sky. Tatoos on his face and arms found a deeper purchase in reality and both ghostly silhouettes circled around his body, energies flaming into presence in tongues, the Bear and the Tiger, air pulled around him, buffeting the city itself, so far below the earth trembling… his eyes opened, and they were white – white only because nothing else could encapsule the sheer radiance of their colour.

Lucius tore his gaze to his enemy – who seemed cloaked by the giant spirits of animals, power rolling off his every pore. He drew a short, straight dagger, blinked his eyes and ran forward – -can’t let him use the power, stop him, kill him, hurt him- he shut the gulf between them in seconds, striding with impossible velocity, staring at Erdawn and his storm of gods across a gulf of inches…

-WHAM-

The Cimmeran brought his foot down in a stomp, and Mir drew himself up and the impact shook everything – Lucius bounced – right up into the air, his legs kicking, and Erdawn drew back his fist and Shardik wrapped himself around his muscles like a coiled bedspring of power, and he pistoned his arm forward in a tiger-fist, striking Lucius in mid-air somewhere near the solar-plexus or sternum. Thump. The sheer power bent him in two, stomping him inside and pumping his stomach and shattering ribs like fibreglass. Blood spewed from his throat, mixed his own puke, and the shock came and threw him backwards, ripping his body around in a circle on centrifugal forces he couldn’t hope to comprehend.

Earth and Sky sucked away, and Erdawn fell forward as Lucius punched through the war-statue, blasting stone entrails and marble chips from it like raindrops. That didn’t matter; strength had left him like water from a sieve. His wound throbbed, and he shook with convulsions. He had barely any strength left, for now, and if that hadn’t either crippled or killed his opponent he was in big trouble.

He spat a wad of blood through his lips and looked up through the dust, waiting to see if Lucius would surface, spent and sore.

OoC - Sorry about the lenght, but seeing as I had so little posts, I decided to go full-blast. Hope you like! Damn good attle, NG.

07-31-2005, 10:13 PM	#20
Erdawn Il Deus Senior Member Join Date: May 2003 Location: Threading the jeweled thrones of earth under my sandalled feet Gender: Posts: 2,991 Thanks: 4 Thanked 45 Times in 39 Posts Points: 24,542.64 Bank: 887.92 Total Points: 25,430.56 Donate	-ohchristGodroll!— Three steel prongs slammed into the space where the longhunter had been lying less than seconds ago, coming too close to collapsing his chest cavity for good measure. He slapped a knuckled hand around the shaft and another off the metalworked grid holding the prongs. Heat sloshed out and wrapped around both steels, metal ran soft as putty and hot as fire, melting over the weapon’s point, and just as quickly it cooled and hardened as the Cimmeran drew his heat back. Lucius pulled on the pole, ready to sweep it again and cut his adversary’s throat – his elbows knocked as the pole tightened, stuck fast, and unexpected. Erdawn lifted his rifle almost languidly. Blam! The impact rattled Lu’s bones – something punched into his chest, not piercing the armour but pounding it in, crushing his lungs, making it hard to breath – he was practically knocked off his feet, backpedalling with eyes almost bulging from the sockets and blood from his lips. He hacked loudly, in pain or surprise. -Need to hurt him drastically, bring this to a close.- Erdawn threw the spent rifle to his side and resolved to make good use of his new vaulting pole – the tight pain in his chest and the hot-stinging screech of wounded flesh thrumming off his leg told him he wouldn’t be able to clear the distance fast enough on foot. As Lucius tried to regain some sense of composure – balance – the longhunter reached up and pulled down on the make-shift halberd with every ounce of strength available, bending it like a willow bow and pushing cords from the tendons in his arms. Lucius struggled forward, cracks striking lines across his armour – an eyebrow raised at whatever the hell Erdawn was trying to do. The longhunter looked his way, and with a hiss, let snap the pressure. It was like watching a botched trebuchet swing a human being at an English castle. The tension exploded into swinging power and the Cimmeran rode the pole as it whipped him up and around at Lucius like a bullet, letting go at precisely the right moment and stretching out his leg at the opportunity, smashing the business-end of his heel into the warrior’s nose and mouth. Teeth cracked chips of enamel and blood spurted from busted capillaries and Lu’s upper-lip broke like a dam, red misting the air and the hollow thump of impact filling the world. His vision exploded warm and slow with black stars, his head corkscrewing back and to the side and he fell hard on his shoulder blades, sliding across the bumpy floor. Of course, his attacker fared little better; an interesting idea… but perhaps not the best of choices. Erdawn hit the metal ground in a flop like a hooked fish, the strain on his formerly good like calling insistently with the obnoxious volume of a hammer-blow, his shoulder banging off the ground and the sharp cocking of everything above his shoulders loosing a tooth from his jaws, but he was grinning – through blood and pain. Hell, he could have been smiling. He pushed himself up, stupid pain still antagonizing his body, but smiling, and rolled his shoulders. Lucius was getting up as well, determined to keep fighting despite a temporary spell of confusion by blurred vision and a thundering headache. He slopped blood from his face, trying to fight his enemy with baleful urgency. Erdawn sucked in a calming breath. -I think it’s time to lay down the cards and see how far it takes me,- He closed his eyes, and thought of nothing. He put everything away – threw it into a bonfire of mental power and let nothing distract him, taking advantage of Lu’s delusion, and in that void he sought out faces, his teacher Yuri, his wife, his father – and through them other faces. Faces terrible and awesome and gentle and beautiful – and suddenly strength flowed into his core and radiated from the cavity of his chest, burning hot-white and baking his skin. The face and paws of Mir burned the air around him in a godly silhouette – the Maker of Earth, the Bear, its pelt of long silver hair glittering like the stuff of stars and its eyes swirling with the knowledge and care of all life and strengh – the muscles of his arms sparked with energy, spitting hot white from his elbows to his knuckles and fingernails, tightening into iron-hard balls. Mir, the Earth, and then the Sky, and the shattering roar of cerulean emptiness, rain and sundered spears of lightning and wind and storms drew itself up alongside the Earth, a brilliant white tiger, Shardik the Sky. Tatoos on his face and arms found a deeper purchase in reality and both ghostly silhouettes circled around his body, energies flaming into presence in tongues, the Bear and the Tiger, air pulled around him, buffeting the city itself, so far below the earth trembling… his eyes opened, and they were white – white only because nothing else could encapsule the sheer radiance of their colour. Lucius tore his gaze to his enemy – who seemed cloaked by the giant spirits of animals, power rolling off his every pore. He drew a short, straight dagger, blinked his eyes and ran forward – -can’t let him use the power, stop him, kill him, hurt him- he shut the gulf between them in seconds, striding with impossible velocity, staring at Erdawn and his storm of gods across a gulf of inches… -WHAM- The Cimmeran brought his foot down in a stomp, and Mir drew himself up and the impact shook everything – Lucius bounced – right up into the air, his legs kicking, and Erdawn drew back his fist and Shardik wrapped himself around his muscles like a coiled bedspring of power, and he pistoned his arm forward in a tiger-fist, striking Lucius in mid-air somewhere near the solar-plexus or sternum. Thump. The sheer power bent him in two, stomping him inside and pumping his stomach and shattering ribs like fibreglass. Blood spewed from his throat, mixed his own puke, and the shock came and threw him backwards, ripping his body around in a circle on centrifugal forces he couldn’t hope to comprehend. Earth and Sky sucked away, and Erdawn fell forward as Lucius punched through the war-statue, blasting stone entrails and marble chips from it like raindrops. That didn’t matter; strength had left him like water from a sieve. His wound throbbed, and he shook with convulsions. He had barely any strength left, for now, and if that hadn’t either crippled or killed his opponent he was in big trouble. He spat a wad of blood through his lips and looked up through the dust, waiting to see if Lucius would surface, spent and sore. OoC - Sorry about the lenght, but seeing as I had so little posts, I decided to go full-blast. Hope you like! Damn good attle, NG.