We have finally reached the final round! A ring has been set up in the middle of the stadium, decorated as if both fighters were being put on display at a museum. The arena floor was made of marble, shined and presentable. Outside, grass lines the ground, with camermen and journalists standing at a good enough distance to get coverage of the fight to happen. Tether posts, pillars, and even two statues of a lions placed near the north edge, it was a scene worthy of an Olympian event such as the GTB. The golden trophy awaited on a pedestal to the north, ready to be awarded to the winner of this match. Alex Luther sat in a throne near the trophy, ready to watch the finals as the last president before him had did. The crowd around the fighters go wild, cheering and awaiting a spectacular performance from both participants.
Field Measurements
The diameter of this circular ring is just at thirty feet; and is rose three feet off the ground.
Ten Count Boundary
Standard ring count rules. Touch the grass and the ten count begins. Stay above the ground for more than ten seconds, and it starts the ten count.
Posted: Fri Apr 26, 2013 11:04 am
The Djinn was naturally on edge. This was it! These were the finals! Stepping out onto the marble arena with blade raised, and smile wide, Marx was greeted with shouts of applause. In his left hand, he tightly held his saber; it's light weight reassuring. In his right, a katar, the punching dagger, had been drawn, and was held near his side.
The energy filling the arena was almost too much. These people were excited. Their petty bets, the shouted assurances, it absolutely filled the air. Marx stopped a short ways from the middle of the arena, leaving about six feet from the center. His soft shoes had plenty of purchase, and the Djinn had no trouble keeping his balance on the smooth marble.
With his lips spread wide across his face, a smile bearing down on the massive crowd around him, Marx had but a single thing to say. " Told you so! " An obvious call back to his first round prediction. He would win this.
Thick boots plodded heavy against the fresh-tended turf. Boots that had seen the clear ice of frozen tundras, mineral-strewn mud of lush forests, wild running waters of tropical falls, and scum-crested metal and pavement of human civilization. Alone they could tell more stories than a tavern scald (well... an apprentice anyway), but today they carried more than just the 300 pounds of Norn warrior. Today they carried the weight of the end of a story and the hopes and dreams for the beginning of a legend. On the surface the massive (7'), dark haired woman was steel-eyed, calm, and self-assured; but beneath... for the first time since the start of this event she could not hear the bards. Oh the song was clear; one part triumphant, one part expectant, all parts rising symphonic finale filled with all the suspense the world had to offer. The cheer of the crowd, the flash of cameras, film, and proud grins of sponsors (despite that both remaining contestants were wildcard newcomers to the scene), but not a single verse crossed her mind. The rhyme was blank, the stanzas clear. The story was no longer hers to tell... and she could not have been happier.
Njora raised an arm and flashed a grin at the expectant fans before taking the stage. The giantess took her place opposite her opponent and locked eyes. The man was smaller and less physically powerful, but that was hardly a surprise; judging by replays, however, he was still an impressively well-balanced fighter with a great deal of supernatural power. Perhaps not her hardest matchup, but this would most certainly not be easy.
"Marx the Djinn... I believe congratulations are in order for making it this far. No matter what comes of this day our songs are already etched into the ancient halls. But they say all Legends are built upon the crushed dreams laid in our path, and yours is a story I do not know. Would you tell me why you fight?"
Of course after the silent treatment from a few of her previous opponents, Njora wasn't fool enough to chat without preparing. Stance sturdy and centered, she unlatched the first shield (a 3-foot bronze hoplon). Her left hand reached out and rested atop it as the heavy implement clanged loudly against the marbled stage and rolled to a stop at her side. Casual as she looked, anyone who had seen her fight so far would know quite well how ready she actually was. The final round had officially begun.
Posted: Fri Apr 26, 2013 7:32 pm
And there she was. The massive example of female splendor; all seven feet of her promised a damned good fight. The Djinn, no stranger to bouts with those taller than him, gazed from his average height of just under six feet. With his light build, as compared to the woman's massive frame, he would need to get close for his advantage to be shown.
" We are in the midst of a fight for the ages. " Marx intoned lightly, before setting his left foot before his body, and pointing away from him. " And I've never been a man for discussion. "
The second the words left his lips, Marx threw his weight forwards in a sudden dash. With hardly ten feet between the fighters, Marx crossed the distance in a short time. He held his sword perpendicularly at chest height, with the katar near his navel, bladed edge point towards his opponent defensively. He came in range of the shield, and immediately went for a quick strike under the guard of the small shield. A rising diagonal slash, thrown from the man's right hip and towards the left shoulder. Aimed to chop right across the supple muscle of her right thigh, Marx was showing off his usual slice-and-dice style. His strength would likewise be surprising to the half-giant. If she went for a block of that shield, she may be knocked off balance.
Physical Capabilities: Marx, as a supernatural creature, has veritable strength and speed. His strength is enough to lift and throw over four hundred pounds with little effort. At a maximum, he could possibly lift seven hundred pounds. His speed is likewise great, as he can go through bursts of fifteen miles an hour. At the speed of seventeen miles per hour, humanoid eyes begin to lose peripheral vision. Marx chose not to go much faster, to avoid this near fatal hindrance.
A fight for the ages. It sounded eloquent enough. A sport for show it may have been, but she certainly understood the desire to fight while nervous adrenaline was still flowing. She would have shrugged at his dismissal of her curiosity, but the wispy creature wasn't going to give her time for anything but a resolute defense. In the same instant she snapped into action, making up the difference in speed by the fact that she barely had to move at all. Differences in perspective were always curious, and she would have been quite amused to learn that the magic man considered a bulking 30-pound shield over half his size "small". Though it was rather difficult to aim below an object that hadn't left the ground, her right leg was indeed still exposed (insofar as one could describe it); however, this quickly changed when she made a small step backwards to take a left-forward sidelong stance.
Whether he changed his strike target or not, as long as he still swung she followed up her motion with a swift cut of the shield in a virtually identical strike to Marx's, wielding it straight from the ground like a makeshift war disk and aiming to smash it directly into his sword. Assuming it was as well-crafted as one would expect of a sword in this line of work she anticipated a fancy nick in the edge of her beloved shield, but with the shield so much heavier than the sword and her own raw strength greater than his, in such a direct clash it would instead be the Djinn who lost poise (and balance if he wasn't careful).
For now she stayed on the defensive. After all, that little dagger in his off hand looked unpleasant in the wrong situation. Instead she focused on unlatching the second shield, a larger but lighter 5' x 2.5' steel tower shield that thumped roughly against the ground at her right side, caught by her right hand before it could fall over. She would even try to bend her knees and take it by the handle if she was allowed that much breathing room. The first exchange was far from over, but it wasn't about to swing in his favor that easily.
Enhanced Strength and Endurance, but reduced Agility and Dexterity (Among the most obvious traits is the Norn's increased size, strength, and weight. Due to the additional bulk, however, they are not nearly as nimble as their chest-height cousins. Njora is capable of lifting as much as 1000 pounds with effort as well as being able to survive damage that might normally be fatal to a human.
Posted: Fri Apr 26, 2013 10:12 pm
Anticipation was on the side of the giantess, Marx knew, as his blade did in fact n** gently into the shield. But, he was never one to stay still. With the sharp edge of his saber having already passed by, Marx would follow up with the dagger in his off hand.
Marx had moved quickly, sidestepping the balance rending reply with simple footwork in his counter. His smile would only widen as his right hand shot forwards as if punching. The nine inches of dagger would spear towards the ever-so-slightly open shoulder. With the woman's reply, she would naturally have left open for the picking. Or well, the stabbing.
Knowingly, Marx's saber would likewise pull for his own chest, earnestly on the defensive for a moment,
It may not have been easy, but a bit of fancy footwork would earn him the favor anyway. There wasn't much she could do beyond continue her intended motion, jerking her shoulder in hard, continuing to drop into a crouch, and watching cold metal slice across exposed flesh before catching between leather armor and the third heavy shield still mounted on her back. Eyes narrowed and grin faded to more of an irritated smirk as the blood began to flow, but she was far too hardy to cry out at such a meager chicken scratch. What's more, he would hardly have a second before she reacted to make good and sure he couldn't twist or change angles. Agile though he might have been, one could only fancy footwork so much whilst lunging twice and taking a heavy clash without dropping the sword.
Like most of her "techniques" she kept it simple, taking that brief moment to grab her tower shield before uncoiling like a spring and slicing the hoplon right back the way it came, aiming to slam it horizontally into the Djinn's chest as she stood. The simple act of swinging her arm back to the left would be enough to push the pesky blade away, and having to deal with that disk-wielded shield again would be enough to keep it away (in theory, anyway).
Posted: Sun Apr 28, 2013 11:35 am
Bringing his saber towards his body again may have saved the Djinn from a much more severe blow. With experience came the sort of forethought that had told Marx to bring his blade back towards his body defensively. And yes, while he was pleased his blade had bit flesh, Marx couldn't help but become reprehensible when the shield dug into his sword, and therefore his chest. Good thing he and the sword were more durable than the average, lest both might have broken.
Weapon Description: Saa'iqah Al-Farz is a one handed sword, with a deeply curved blade. Naturally, the blade is meant for slashing forms of attacks, rather than stabbing. As Marx says, the blade was the first item he was ever bound to, forcing some sort of bond between blade and master. For this reason, Marx has increased the durability of the weapon through applications of magic, which in turn, caused the blades former color to become black.
Marx was roughly pushed back, what little breath in his lungs forced from his chest. There would be some lasting damage; bruises at worst, from what the Djinn could tell. His feet found purchase quickly, before he pushed off on his leading right foot.
However, the giantess would notice something different about this attack. The moment Marx landed, his saber gave off a dull glow, green energy coating it with reckless abandon. The wreath would cover the blade on the sickly stuff by the time his attack came into fruition. A simple slash, right for the midline of the giant. Whether she blocked, or the slight opening along her chest were to be exploited, the explosive prana coating his blade would pack quite the surprise.
And much like previously, Marx pulled his katar closer towards his body, his clenched fist lined up just below his ribs.
Now this was battle. Bronze met steel a second time and both sang out with pride, returning the grin to Njora's lips. Perhaps it wasn't meant to last (not many could keep up with a Norn in battles of endurance), but for now they could happily wail upon each other with reckless abandon. It was especially interesting to note his technique. Particularly durable for his size, but not too surprising considering his supernatural affinity (she knew what he was from watching his last match, but that still didn't mean she knew what it meant). The Norn themselves attributed most of their superior abilities to their giant ancestry, so it only stood to reason other higher races were in similar circumstances. Yet even her fellow kinsman had not been willing to clash with her like this, which was more than enough to earn this little magic man a great deal of respect in her eyes. It was little wonder he had gotten this far.
With her usual flourish she spun the hoplon and caught it by the handle for better control as the Djinn's sword began to glow and come down upon her. From there it was a simple matter of moving the large rounded implement between herself and the incoming weapon, making sure to keep it at an angle so she would only have to take a portion of the blow before it bounced off and away. The block was doubled by an outward sweep to push the blade further off balance as she twisted and stepped forward with her right, bringing the tower shield to bear like an angry wall of steel aimed to punch him in the everywhere (with 5 feet of surface area specific targets were a bit superfluous). What she didn't expect, however, was the veritable explosion that erupted from the sword upon contact with her shield. The staggering force was enough to set her off balance and sap a bit of strength from her attack, but fortunately the angle of her defense was already prepared for such a heavy blow so she was at least able to keep her footing.
((Edited for clarity))
Posted: Tue Apr 30, 2013 4:02 pm
[Had to ask the opponent a question, in case I lost the consistent posting bonus ]
There was a raucous boom as his blade would dig lightly into the shield, before exploding in a frenzy of green light. His forwards momentum, in tandem with this explosive force, would save Marx from being pushed back by the tower shield. Instead, the massive wall of metal crashed brusquely into his left side, dislodging his blade from the shield.
An " Oof, " would escape tightly pursed lips as Marx felt himself pushed sideways. He had to play this smart. Use his speed, and the blades he held, to his advantage at such a close range. There wasn't even enough room to strike with his saber.
With little other option, Marx dived in closer, bringing the distance between the two fighters that much lower. His katar glinted in the light of the stadium, before shooting out in a jab. Marx, having been pushed to his right, attacked for the giant's left side. Her hoplon may be lighter than the tower shield, but his katar was even lighter. The nine inch, black blade would strike as if it were a cobra, ready to spear underneath the giant's ribs. The sharp point, designed for breaching armor and body alike, probably wouldn't be stopped by whatever she was wearing.
The burst of green erupting into tense air set the crowd in an uproar. Such a fast, violent battle and things had only just gotten started. Marx would likely be disappointed to find the sturdy nature of a metal shield combined with the parrying motion of her block didn't exactly leave any surface for his blade to "lodge" into, but the light show still had plenty effect and his sword still plenty of space to chip an impressive crack in the ground to her left. She was also starting to get a good feel for his style. This was not a fighter. He was a soldier, perhaps, or maybe another hunter. His pacing was frantic if not methodical, aiming to rush her down and land a fight-ending blow as soon as possible rather than gauge her skill and make a spectacle of the encounter. Unfortunately he had come across the worst opponent for such tactics, as he would soon learn.
Range was an interesting concept when it came to shields. Her unique use of the hoplon often gave it a fancy reach advantage over her opponents, but traditionally they were about as close to one's body as an implement could get without becoming an article of clothing. Thus it was that despite their difference in speed she had far less trouble keeping up with him than one might expect. It also didn't hurt that she had gotten fed up with her balance in this situation and decided to hit the reset button as soon as she saw him snaking around her shield.
~screech!
The marble cried out in protest and she jerked her right foot 90 degrees and flung her left back. The errant foot didn't have nearly enough training against her heavy frame to land properly, bringing her awkwardly down to one knee instead as she tried to regain balance, but it served her purposes regardless. The left half of her body followed the foot as physics dictated, twisting it out of the deadly blade's path just in time for the tower shield to shove his arm the rest of the way away. Cobra-like though his strike may have been, she was quite fortunate that it did not bend like a cobra. Oh, but she wasn't finished there. The green-lit magic man would have the briefest of moments to rethink his idea of range while her shield lit perpendicular to her chest, for barely a second later she uncoiled once more, whipping the tower shield out in a vicious back-handed bash at his likely unstable frame.
Back and forth the pendulum swung. What most considered to be large, cumbersome additions to a set of armor, the shield maiden had turned to a deadly art, flowing with them as easily as a swordsman danced with his blades. Where an opening appeared in one, the other covered. Where one could defend, the other attacked. Left and right. Back and forth. Simple motions all combined to create a near perfect defense. As her tower shield lashed out and to the right, the hoplon moved in to cover its place.
Posted: Wed May 01, 2013 7:03 am
The former attack had been quick, allowing Marx ever the slightest of breathing room. His jab failing, and his opponent pulling back to one knee, the Djinn would pivot on his right foot. It's position in front of his body would bring his body twisting along right-ways, his head pulling down as his thighs swiftly clenched, bringing him into a crouch.
The style this woman used was new to the Djinn, but the man trained in the art of battle picked up quickly the advantages and disadvantages. And oddly enough, from what Marx could tell, his blade was the exact implement needed to break through the veritable defense.
At this point, Marx had pulled both of his weapons closer to his body, the black blades glinting. It appeared defensive, to those with eyes quick enough, but the style the Djinn implemented was much like the Giant's own. Offense and defense in one. While the tower shield was effectively evaded by furthering his distance from the wall of metal, the hoplon would definitely remain an issue. As a result, Marx had only one way to go.
With a grunt, Marx's saber, held in his left hand, would strike low in a quick chop. The proverb " Sweep the Leg. " took an entirely new meaning as Marx would aim to chop just below the giant's knee. Even if the blade didnt tear through whatever armor she wore, her balance could be knocked off in such a vital moment. Then, he could strike for a more ethical area.
The shield whiffed cleanly through air, forcing her to stagger a bit and rest it upon the ground to avoid losing it since she had yet to slip her arm through the strap. Nor would she just yet, choosing instead to flip her grip upon the handle, effectively wielding the shield upside-down (though with herself and the shield on the ground it wouldn't become apparent right away). The Djinn had used his pesky agility to drift around her once more, still to her left, but this time it suited her just fine. Down upon one knee as she was, there wasn't a whole lot exposed from behind the hoplon, and what little there was could be covered by a matter of inches. As was the case here, for even if she had been fooled by his defensive stance the newly created distance between them gave her just enough time to pull the shield to the right and give that obsidian weapon a new target.
Back and forth the pendulum swung, giving what was to come a level of predictability. But even that wasn't always enough. The marble sang once more as her left foot slid forward and found purchase once more, shifting her stance so that she was ever facing him sidelong. In the same motion she surged forward with a grunt, lifting herself off the ground and covering the distance between them in one powerful stride. In an instant the magic man would be faced with an angry wall of bronze rising from the ground and aiming to smash into him with the full force of the Norn's considerable weight. Just for a bit of extra icing she followed the shield check up with a firm back-handed bash much the same as she had just performed with the tower shield only moments before. And if this offensive cake didn't have enough icing already, this time he would find the shield maiden quite prepared for his fancy agility. If the Djinn managed to stay in range, either by a quick backpedal or a spin to the side, he would be met by the other end of the pendulum as she aimed to jam the full length of the tower shield into his gut (or side/back if he happened to be mid-spin), thrusting it forward as if it were some impromptu, extremely blunt spear ((held mostly horizontal, with the attack coming from what would normally be the "bottom" of the shield)).
Posted: Thu May 02, 2013 9:51 am
The Djinn found his blade sent off on a tangent after finding it's target protected by a shield. However, his reply would in turn help to save him from the proverbial icing on the cake of her attack.
Immediately upon finding the hoplon in the path of his saber, Marx tensed his lower body, the faint crouch he was still in rocketing his right arm forwards in a powerful punch.
Tendrils of green collected around the tip of the katar, held tightly in his right hand. The explosive energy wouldn't have time to form as it's predecessor had, instead forming a tight knit ball of prana along the tip of the punching dagger. With such a powerful punch aimed to intercept the hoplon midst it's bash, Marx had a definite plan of action.
Disable the shield, with an attack capable of breaking through the bronze in one fell swoop. Shatter it, possibly, but definitely take it out of the equation. A katar, designed to break through armor and shielding alike, with the force of both the Norn and the Djinn, and also the force of a small explosion, the shield would become a pincushion.
Marx would likewise bring his saber closer to his body, the still-vibrating metal held hard on his hand.
Another clash rang out across the arena, but this one was marked by a dull thud. For Njora's part she was quite surprised at a number of things. First and foremost that the half-sized magic man could casually stop a full-force bull rush with a single-handed punch and another small flash of green. Second that there was suddenly a metal shard poking through the back of her shield. Whatever magic he was using, it must have been unbelievably powerful. Not that she wasn't used to fighting creatures perceptibly "more powerful" than herself, but it was still quite surprising to find such a creature in human form (or interested in human affairs for that matter). On the bright side this power seemed intrinsically connected to those flashes of green light... unfortunately that wasn't as helpful as it seemed considering he could summon them in an instant. Still, this was her song. When things got hard she needed only to hit harder.
Fortunately piercing the shield would not shatter it, and would most certainly not take it out of the equation. In fact, due to the construction of the shield the dagger would quite easily become stuck in it. From there she needed only twist the shield to disrupt his grip on the weapon before following through with her previously intended back-handed shield bash (and followup jab if he kept himself in range for it). If all went well she could jerk his weapon out of his hand amidst the blunt-force trauma and completely turn the tactics tables.
Heavy Bronze Round Shield; Commonly known as an Aspis or Hoplon, this 30-pound shield is 3 feet in diameter and constructed of natural hardwood with a thin (10mm at its thickest in the center) layer of bronze covering the front. It has a soft leather-bound grip and a strap for the forearm, and is most effective when using both. Its relatively thin edge can be used as a blunted slicing tool, but is otherwise more effective as a blunt-force/shock implement.
