Dark Rain 2.0  |
| Teal vs Tyrade | |
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| Topic Started: 13 May 2009, 01:09 (108 Views) | |
| tyrade | 13 May 2009, 01:09 Post #1 |
Sponge
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Dagold walked onto the abandoned forest arena suspicious of the area around him. His full body cape was protecting him from the heat and brush and his knife was enough to cut through the forest. He did not like to wander with his sword out, liking the surprise of drawing it from beneath his cape. His leather armor provided decent enough protection without weighing him down or over heating him. He had fought several battles and had lost his helmet in his most recent one, his short dark blonde hair covered in leaves and dirt, and his head exposed. He was fearless but a little too proud, he didn't bother going back for it. His icy blue eyes scanned the area rapidly, suspicious (os more accuratley paranoid) of everthing around him. He heard movement in the pushes and drew his knife preparing for a fight. |
  It seems every serial killer is someone you least expect, meaning we are safest around those we expect to kill us | |
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| Teal | 14 May 2009, 20:26 Post #2 |
Ba dum - pish!
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Humans have an odd tendency to notice things outside the realms of their actual senses. Like the tingling on the back on your neck when you think you're being watched or that powerful and drawing sense that there is something there. Pausing with a short hunting knife poised above the head of a large buck rabbit, Condra Darmish was flooded with that feeling. An overwhelming sense that she was not alone. Yet all was silent save for the bright calls of a few birds and the rustling of undergrowth as small animals passed through. But her arms had turned as rough as sandpaper and the hairs on the back of her neck were stretching away from her. And she, somehow, knew that there was another human in this forest. With a wave a her hand, the fire mage killed the young fire that had just been ignited within a small stone circle. She left the rabbit where it was, reaching under her thick traveling cloak and placing her short knife in its sheath. Bundling her cloak around her to block out the light breeze she departed form her small camp and headed out into the unmapped woods, scooping up her iron helmet in the process. On her torso she wore a light layer of leather topped by a chain mail shirt, and her skull was crowned with the helmet, a wide opening in front not diminishing her field of vision. On her waist was a long scabbard that contained her three foot steel longsword, sharpened to a deadly point. And on her other hip, she wore the aforementioned knife, although it was crafted for hunting, not battle. A few short minutes later, the feeling had grown stronger. She unsheathed her sword, holding it tightly in her right hand and loosening the clasps of her cloak with the other. With a few quick slashes she decimated a patch of bushes, scattering leaves and small bits of wood into the air, and stepped past them. He stood in front of her, about twenty feet away. Him. Short blond hair, dark, though that could be due to the leaves and dirt caked into his head. A cloak concealed any many of weaponry save for a short knife in one hand. The fire inside of her crackled loudly, feeding her mind with bloody thoughts. It had not eaten human flesh for so long, and here was a beautiful morsel ripe for the picking. It wanted to bubble up from inside of her, igniting her hands, her face, and feasting, but she held it down. With one hand she cautiously undid the clasp at her throat, dropping the encumbering cloak onto the ground beneath her. She turned, placing her sword between him and her and waiting for him t make the first move. |
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| tyrade | 14 May 2009, 22:21 Post #3 |
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The sudden entrance of this young girl confirmed his paranoia, there was in fact danger in these woods. Though she was a small slender girl she looked too confident to be an easy target. " You are quite bold challenging anyone you come across ma'am." He said calmly. If she wanted a fight, it was just one more casualty this battle worn soldier would have to cause. He disliked the idea of killing such a pretty girl. Had they not met under these conditions he might have flirted with her. But that would never happen now, he understood. She was now his opponent, a life or death situation. Given her slight figure, she probably relied more on skill and speed than raw power, and would probably have a crazy trick up her sleeve. These fight everyone they meet types always do, and with any luck he is the first she has tried it on and won't be able to use it well. He would use that to his advantage if it comes up. Hoping to end the battle quickly he rushed her, feighning a slash but instead dropping down to sweep a kick at her legs. Maybe he didn't have to kill her after all. |
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It seems every serial killer is someone you least expect, meaning we are safest around those we expect to kill us | |
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| Teal | 15 May 2009, 00:22 Post #4 |
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Ba dum - pish!
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(Who said she was slight? She's a well built, tough woman. Sexism...  )A low growl escaped Condra's lips as adrenaline began to course through her body, narrowing her vision and sharpening her reflexes. "Challenging you? I suppose I am. But I'm past boldness, I've moved onto routine." With that slightly cryptic remark, she began to stalk forwards, slowly devouring the distance between her and her new found foe. Her blood had begun to boil. Quite literally too, as small amounts of oxygen in her blood stream were harvested and converted into a highly flammable substance that could be controlled by short ranged electric pulses that originated from her skin. It ached to be let out, to feast, but yet again she held it back. Slowly, slowly. Her one secret must remain hidden. While one hand focused on her sword and now advancing foe, the other reached down and removed her knife from its sheath. Keeping it hidden behind her body from her enemy. It was smaller then her sword, but just as sharp, and it had the same longing for blood as its older sibling did. Then he was on her, sword whistling down towards her torso. A foolish move, as their blades were relatively equal in size and her's was between her and him. She merely shifted her arm over slightly, preparing to block, and then counter with a lunge to the chest. Then his muscles clenched, just barely noticeable, and his sword reversed direction, sweeping back, and then low and towards her unprotected legs. Yet again, her sword was still between the two of them. Hastily, she jumped back, moving just inches outside of his blade's arc. The moment that it passed her feet and its momentum began to carry it away from her, she lunged at his now unprotected chest with the tip of her blade. The sharpened steel would easily pierce through leather, and his own sword would not be able to gain enough speed and put enough strength behind it to pierce her chain mail without him moving back and allowing himself a longer windup time or a attempting a piercing strike. Both of those, impossible, of course, without dealing with the potentially fatal blow moving towards his soft gut. A smile crossed the fire mage's lips. This would be fun. |
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| tyrade | 15 May 2009, 00:36 Post #5 |
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Dagold saw the attack coming, unable to completly dodge it, he let her leave a gash in his armor as he grabbed her arm and made a swing for her head with the back of his fist, as he expected she dodged it but it gave him the chance force his palm toward her chest for an attempt at directly damaging her heart. This girl would be more of a challenge than he thought. He silently chuckled at the idea of finally facing someone he couldn't kill in a few short steps. She was putting up a good fight and had already damaged his armor, it was maybe a centimeter deep in his two inch thick armor, but it was still an accomplishment, considering it was the first scratch anyone has left in it. "This is going to be fun." he thought to himself. |
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It seems every serial killer is someone you least expect, meaning we are safest around those we expect to kill us | |
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| Teal | 15 May 2009, 21:21 Post #6 |
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Ba dum - pish!
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(Two inches? Shit! How do you move? Also, I would like to point out that I am still facing sideways, meaning that my three foot long sword is still between you and me, making you trying to punch me impossible unless you either get around my blade and impale yourself on it) No blood. Not yet. Another growl slipped from slightly parted lips as the fire mage's sword slid forwards, scraping against a thick skin of leather and then stopping. For a split second, she applied more pressure, trying to break through, but then discovered it futile. Too thick. Quick as a snake, she pulled back, retracting her upper arm and bender the lower one, placing her sword between her and her foe at a slight upwards angle. His own blade still hung at his side. Useless. He hadn't even bothered moving it. A hand began to move, reaching out, grasping for her arm. She retreated back farther, feeling the fingers brush against the armor on her wrist and then close around the air. A few short, controlled, steps later, she had moved out of harms way, out of the reach of his blade, and consequently, he was out of reach of hers. The fire roared for more, for more attacks to be made, more blood to be spilled. She cooed softly to it with her mind, settling it down and drugging back to sleep. Not yet, not yet. But soon. Her breath was coming in quick and heavy. Much of the air that she breathed was being converted into fuel, circulating throughout her entire body. It hurt, and it dimmed her senses and reflexes, but it allowed her to build up her powers without revealing that they existed. She coughed. Once, twice, all the while keeping her eyes trained on her enemy, sword keeping him at bay while she waited. "Slowly. Patience. Just wait little one, your time will be soon." The fire mage whispered cryptically to herself, loud enough to be heard, but soft enough to be misunderstood. "As yet we only have our hopes." |
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| tyrade | 16 May 2009, 06:58 Post #7 |
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( His armor is not one solid piece, it is divided into sections and has weak points, another reason he wears the cape.) "Muttering to herself already? I'm sure i havn't caused that much stress" he thought to himself. Taking advantage of this seeming craziness he rushed her and swung his left fist aiming for her jaw, ready to swing his knife at her throat should she dodge it. He was playing rookie, using basic combat methods. She was hiding something, and he wasn't going to reveal anything until he knew what he was up against. This method had worked on several other opponents, though not always successful, it is an exellent warm up strategy. |
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It seems every serial killer is someone you least expect, meaning we are safest around those we expect to kill us | |
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