Where Greener and Knosis settle their differences through the best medium: VIOLENCE!

TheGreenerGrey

TheGreenerGrey

Self-proclaimed everything expert.
Since we can't have a rebellion every other day, i've made this. This arena will see violence, blood and horror unlike anything seen before. Screams of the dead and dying shall echo throughout this place. Fire and flame enough to put the nine circles of hell to shame shall flood this arena.

You know, for funzies.
 
Combatants: Moreshore (TheGreenerGrey) vs Tittanna (Knosis)
Combat System: SC's T1
Match Type: 1 vs 1/Closed
Match Status: Pending
First Poster: TheGreenerGrey
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Arena: A stifling jungle where the humidity is enough to leave one choking upon the air with every breathe. It would take both skill, stamina, and an awareness of ones limitations to avoid overheating under such conditions.

The wide stretch of river nearby offers the promise of reprieve against the humid heat but the rapid rush of shallow water over the slick rocks and submuerged driftwood that lay just a foot beneath the surface equally offer the promise of treacherous terrain.

Of course to reach the river one must first navigate down the muddy embankments that have been washed out time and time again over the years.
Save for a few feet of precarious grassy stretches at the top of the embankments the jungle beyond offered poor freedom of movement. Choked out by dense foliage, ferns, and tropical plants, one would be hard pressed to get a clear swing through the entanglement. Hacking one's way through it all would no doubt prove exhausting.

The only clear stretch in the immediate vicinity of the river is the remnants of a fallen monstrosity of a tree that cleared out a swath of only marginally smaller trees. What remains now, several years later is a marginally clear stretch of rainforest with the only obstacles being the large moss covered tree trunks of the fallen giants, and a thick undergrowth of low-growing ferns.
 
The sound of metal clashing with metal preceded Morshore as she broke her way throigh the dense foliage of the jungle, sweat pouring down her face as her body roasted alive in her incredibly tough armour. Built for open fields, her inches thick armour covered her from head to toe in durable plates. Coupled with that and the chain,ail she wore underneath, she had to steady herself against a tree as the heat threatened to overwhelm her.

Reaching towards her helmet, she unclasps and tugs it off, revealing her scarred face and short cropped blonde hair, flushed from the humidity of the jungle. Grasping at her left hip, she eagerly tugs a waterskin from where it had been hanging and greedily drinks from the skin for a good few seconds, gasping as she dumped whatever was left over her head before re-clasping her visored helmet.

Stupid. It was stupid of her to enter the jungle in her armour. She had acknowledged the risks, but she had done it anyway. Underestimated just how hot the foliage made it. She needed to find her mark, and fast. After that, a break at that river she passed was due before she returned to get her pay.

Tittanna Ó Murchadha. The name of the target. She wasn't sure why the group needed her dead, but for four gold a day? She wasn't asking questions. Just wished that someone else had been sent. Even Grendel would have been better suited.

Straightening up, Morshore hefts her shield and spear once more. She had tracked Tittanna here, and the trail was fresh. She was nearby. All Morshore had to do now was find her...
 
Somehow, someway, Tittanna had made it from the hellish forests, down the accursed embankment and into the cooling waters of the river below. The redheaded woman groaned as she waded calf deep into the rapidly moving water, her boots flung over her shoulder. Her hauberk was covered in the mud from the embankment, and stray leaves and sticks had caught in her long braided hair from her trek in the forest.

“Where in ‘ell am I?” She muttered to herself, sinking slowly to sit in the river careful not to slide on the smooth stones below. She leaned against the haft of her glaive, resting against the flat of the bottom blade. The last thing she had known was that damned wizard. She had seen him open some kind of door and disappeared into it, and she had followed. The next thing she knew, she was here. The kingdom of Solstice was gone. High King Martel was gone. They four kingdoms were separated, and now she was on the run as it would seem the people of Lyris hated anyone that remotely looked like a Blianian.

What had that wizard done? She’d never seen a mage have that kind of power, the mages had been almost fairy tales mother’s told their children. The woman growled in frustration. “Wizard, I’m gonna find you. An’ when I do, you’re goin’ to send me back ‘ome an’ make you regret makin’ a fool out of me..”
 
Morshore peered through the shade of the trees, down at her target. She considersd it a stroke of good fortune that the moment she had decided to stop searching for where the trail had ended and head to get a drink she found her. Tittanna. It was also fortunate the woman seemed to have the habit of talking to herself, which had forwarned Morshore to her presence and allowed her to get as close as she was.

Morshore had to consider her plan of attack. She wouldn't be able to charge with her shield here, the uncertain terrain of the muddy ground making it likely she would twist her ankle and end the fight there. But she also couldn't afford to wait around, as any moment now she was sure her hulking form would be spotted. So she would need to take it slow, yet make her target unable to prepare...

A thought strikes the warrior. Glancing down she spots a sizeable rock amidst the silt and small pebbles aound her feet, probably washed up to where she was by the last time the river flooded. Slowly, ever so slowly, she crouches down. Making sure her large, jagged spearhead didn't catch the light, she sets the pole of the spear on top of the loamy grass, before piking up the rock.

Staying crouched, Morshore rights herself as she aims the rock at the girl. A strike to the head was the goal... After a few more seconds of deliberation over the angle, Morshore's arm rocks back and then whips forth like a coiled spring, the rock sailing free through the air as she hefts up her spear and begins to make her way toward the target at as fast as she dared to go, cursing the muddy ground with every step as she raises her shield to cover her body.
 
Had it not been for the fact Morshore’s armor clanked as she threw the rock towards her, and then again the cacophony of armor almost immediately afterward that made Tittanna leap to her feet. The rock thudded against the thick maile. Her head whipped around to Morshore, her storm grey hues blazing. What was that woman thinking coming out here with that armor?

Still, the red headed woman was not going to just stand there. Thinking fast she decided to turn and make a dash for the far side of the river. The one benefit of not wearing her knight’s armor today? She could probably easily out run her assailant. Fortunately the woman’s bare feet remained unscathed from the treacherous mysteries that hid themselves below the muddy surface.
 
Morshore clanked to a stop before she was halfway down to the riverbank, watching Tittanna cross as she clicks her tongue in annoyance. The rock hadn't served to daze as she had hoped. The armoured mercenary looked over at Tittanna, thumbing a vial with a smokey black liquid inside, before stepping back and beginning to make her way back up the riverbank

Shifting her shield to the side just a little bit, Morshore points the jagged and sharp end of her spear at her quarry in a silent gesture as she retreats back up the bank, eventually reaching the forest canopy, the shadows overlapping her face. She would need to find a way around to the other side, further down where Tittanna wouldn't immediatly jump her armoured person.

With one final glance towards Tittanna, she heads back into the jungle to find a new crossing.
 
The young knight turned to watch as Morshore slide up the embankment once more, obviously not going to attempt to cross the river. Not here at any rate. Still, it did not ease the woman any to know that even out in this hellish humidity and heat, there were still those who wished to see her gone more than anything else.

Tittanna knew her maneuver only bought her a little time. Her assailant would find a way to get across more easily and they would face once again. She remembered there was a clearing not too far from here from where one of the giant trees had fallen some years prior that she had passed. But the thought of leaving the riverbed exhausted her, as during the day it would at least be a heatstroke for one of them. No, she would have to remain by the water and use it to her advantage.

So while Moreshore traveled to find a way to get to Tittanna, the redhead stayed where she was, resting and waiting for the mercenary to return.
 
Morshore stood up from where she drank, cooling her face as she looked up. Just ahead of her, twenty or so metres, was a sharp bend in the river that she knew would lead her to where she had last seen Tittanna, and she needed to be ready for any ambush. It was fortunate that the spacing of the river provided some modicum of relief from the heat, and after the half an hour or so of walking (as well as risking her luck and jumping the gap between two rocks in order to cross and not wet her spear), Morshore was grateful for the relief.

Once she judged herself phycially capable enough, she pulled on her helmet once more, grabbed her spear and went to round the corner. She had learnt her lesson about her armour, and attacking from the jungle was just asking for trouble. No, the direct route was all she had. Making sure her spear was properly coated in the liquid from the vial, Morshore made her way forward, steel shield at the ready.
 
Moreshore would find no ambush waiting for her. Nor would she find that Tittanna was ready to attack her immediately. As the mercenary rounded the corner, the woman stood from her kneeling position from the water, her double ended glaive in hand and stabbed in the ground beside her. Her steel hues glared at the assailant as they approached.

“Before ya attack me..” Tittanna’s thick burr of an accent cut the silence like a knife. “I’d like to know wha’ yer name is and why it is ya’ve come ‘ere?” She gestured to the far side of the river. “I know ya don’t wan’ me crossin’ o’er again. So do yerself a favor and just give me the answers I’m lookin’ for. If ya can do tha’, then I won’t run. I’ll stand an’ fight.”
 
Morshore considered the offer from Tittanna. Talking was an unnecessary distraction, and one that cost her breathing space. That could be capitalised upon. Less air in her lungs, less energy, slower movement. Potentially fatal. Yet, she also knew that most warriors went by a code of ethics, Honour. Upholding their word, not fighting dirty and all that. She didn't understand it, but if she could use it...

Morshore raises her shield to cover her body, levelling the spear at chest height as one protected eye peered out from the visor. "My name..." she began, careful with every word. "Is Morshore. I am here to kill you, as per my contract." She finishes as she gets within two metres of the girl, just outside of the glaive range. From here she would be able to react to any attack, and charge fast enough to crash into her opponent and nullify the glaive's reach.

She just needed to wait and see...
 
The red haired woman knew full well what this Morshore was all about now. Every muscle was tensed, ready to spring into action on a moment’s notice as the mercenary inched closer. She was ready to dodge away from the blow she knew was going to come eventually.

But she needed more answers.

“Who ‘as the ‘it on me? What ‘appened to the Kingdom of Solstice? Where is King Martel?” She asked in rapid succession, seemingly desperate for answers. “I’ve no clue where tha’ wizard brought me, I’m lost. I’ve not done anythin’ except seek those answers. So why do I ‘ave an ‘it on me?!” She stamped the but of her glaive into the water irritably. She knew she may be pushing her luck with the mercenary and knew she only was using this opportunity to cut off her range advantage. But the knight did not seem concerned.
 
No more talking. These questions were inane and pointless. It was time she completed her job so she could get out of this heat. Gauging the distance between the two, Morshore judged that she would be able to cross it woth enough speed that the glaive shouldn't be enough of a factor. And thus, she charged.

It happened in an instant as the raised shield was brought forward and her body leaned into it, turning the wall of defence into a battering ram designed to break the body of her opponent. Swinging her arm back, Morshore brought her spear around in a wide arc from Tittanna's left, hoping to cut off one avenue of escape as well as score a hit upon her opponent.
 
Tittanna had been prepared for this, and knew it was coming. She had trained well for these situations simply because they gave her a disadvantage. As the mercenary rushed forward, Tittanna jumped up, bringing her legs in front of her to bound backwards off the shield as Morshore leaned into it, flipping into the air and landing a few feet away, missing the spear’s swipe.

However, as she landed, the redhead’s bare feet slipped. She stumbled back several feet and into deeper waters, submerging completely as she fell.
 
Morshore was certainly surprised at the woman's display of acrobatics, not expecting that she could move like that. She would need to adjust for the future. Spinning on her heel, the mercenary slows herself as she stops in the mud, her feet digging in to give her purpose just as she watches Tittanna fall beneath the river. Good.

Striding forward, she slides her hand down the pole of her spear, giving her the longest range possible, before hefting it overhead and jabbing forward and down into the water where she last saw her target with as much force as she could, careful to keep her body shielded from any sneak attacks that may be coming.
 
It wasn't as if the woman had remained where she was as soon as she fell. The river had carried her slightly from her position, and Tittanna herself propelled herself backwards away. She reappeared some distance away, pulling herself out of the water, her glaive still tight in her grip. Gritting her teeth, she lowered and widened her stance.

"Alright you. Come at me." She growled.
 
Morshore looked at Tittanna in annoyance, sliding her spear back down into a more comfortable grip as she rolled her shoulders, loosening up and pivoting to have her body pointing at her quarry. While it was... regrettable that she had not been able to finish the fight there, the water would still aid in making her opponent uncomfortable and have a looser grip.

Marching forward, Morshore gauges the distance on that glaive, stopping just out of its reach. To go any further would invite an attack, and she had learnt her lesson with this opponent the first time. She would have Tittanna come to her. Should the woman attack, Morshore would be able to readt accordingly by stepping into and past the Glaive's range of effectiveness.

Plan made, Morshore raises her shield from the mud and angles her spear towards Tittanna, waiting for her opponent.
 
"Tch." Tittanna remarked. Keeping the same amount of distance between herself and Morshore had currently, she circled swiftly to Morshore's side. She moved more steadily than she had before, careful to keep her footing this time. Once she came to the side, she ducked down, lowering her glaive and swung up, still keeping as much distance as she could muster between Morshore and herself.
 
Morshore twists her body as the glaive flashed, having somewhat expected the attack, and watched as the blade sliced across her armour. For a moment she wondered what Tittanna's game plan was. Surely someone who looked like they had experience wouldn't think that slicing against someone as armoured as her would do something?

Continuing with the twist, Morshore brings her spear around in a horizontal swipe at the woman. She was a bit too close for comfort, but a knock on the head with the shaft may prove to be what Morshore needed.
 
The red head blocked easily with her own weapon's shaft. With this, she decided it was better to continue to get closer and all the while still using her weapon to block the spear, rushed forward. Albeit a bit shorter than Morshore, she waited until the last moment to kick out at the woman's chest, attempting to shove her into the deeper waters behind Morshore now.
 
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