Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Apr 12, 2019 3:58:09 GMT
aGaGeh4F1d20+5 To hit!1d20+5
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 12, 2019 4:04:45 GMT
The warrior carefully untied his gauntlet as he walked towards her, nonchalant. He stopped, about twenty feet away, then hurled the glove at her. Kara twisted to the side, surprised but not that surprised, and it sailed past her to skid in the dirt. She felt the same clear focus settle over her again, the battle rejoined. She could wait – or she could strike. Kara darted forward about ten feet, closing to the very edge of her range but outside the reach of his sword, and swept the glaive at him, throwing everything into the strike. Hit or miss, she would pull back immediately after, retreating back to leave twenty feet between them still.
Reckless attack:
Glaive attack: 2AYyZY761d20+5 or 1d20+5((Bonus action: Kara enters her rage; movement is before and after the strike)) 1d20+5·1d20+5 |
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Apr 12, 2019 4:14:23 GMT
By that particular point in time it was already something along the lines of plan E, but the combat had been anything if not crafty. Sure, he could have rushed forward and tried to dodge past the glaive in order to reach her within striking distance of his greatsword but that went against the challenge he had imposed upon himself. He wanted to find ways to nullify that advantage so that he wouldn't get pinned down. Because what would happen if he were attacked by someone that was more strong than him? More skilled? And also as fearsome as she was with a polearm, he had to be prepared for that. And then she moved forward.
"Oh fvuck!"
He said chuckling when he saw her dart forward with fearsome speed those ten meters.
"I vas only kidding!"
He said as the blade missed by inches as he pulled back, but even as he spoke those words his hand was untying the second gauntlet and now at a distance of twenty feet. And threw it at her again.
Thrown gauntlet:
mpcb2mvf1d20+5
1d20+5
Damage:
1d4+2
1d6+3
And then he actually moved back from her. Twenty five feet back, to be precise. Enough so that seemingly she would not be able to close the gap between them to repeat the same move as she just had, it had been his mistake to play on her field. Clearly, she had no reason to close the gap between them and come attack him, even when the judge was about to call in the match. So he would have to give her a reason, keeping out of her reach this time with his superior movement. Granted, nothing stopped him from just keeping throwing pieces of his armor at her from within twenty feet, but that felt rather boring, and if he could end the match without taking a single hit from her all the better. And he had another good reason for making her want to move around, other than it being fun to watch after having chased after her for most of the match thus far.1d20+5·1d20+5·1d4+2·1d6+3
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 12, 2019 4:21:09 GMT
Kara dodged again but not quite as fast; the second gauntlet clipped her arm with surprising force, leaving a numb sensation. She shook her arm out as she approached. This time, Kara was the one to close the distance between them, leaving about twenty five feet remaining between her and Arioch, and readied herself to dodge any new incoming pieces of armor.
((With bear totem, Kara takes 2+4=6 damage, plus 16 from earlier))
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Apr 12, 2019 4:28:32 GMT
This time it was him the one that kept the distance between them, going to the side and started to circle around her, keeping once again forty five feet between them by moving around the edges. This time it wasn't a gaunlet that which he was getting into his hands but one of those heavy metal boots, which had him limping around one leg as he took it off, and then threw at her.
If they kept circling around that way, they would end up switching positions to where they were once the gauntlet throwing started.
Attack roll with disadvantage!
h02VWHJ51d20+5
1d20+5
Damage
1d4+3
1d6+31d20+5·1d20+5·1d4+3·1d6+3
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 12, 2019 4:36:39 GMT
The boot smacked Kara solidly in the thigh, bouncing off. Surprisingly, it hurt, although not more than Kara could bear. She kept following him - surely once he had taken off the second boot, he would run out of pieces of armor to throw? Once again, Kara would close to twenty five feet away and do her best to prepare to dodge, for all that her best hadn't been terribly good so far.
((7 damage, plus 22 from earlier))
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Apr 12, 2019 4:42:56 GMT
It was proven that the projectile strategy was working, although he only had one more projectile that he could remove with ease remaning: His other boot. And so he did the same, he moved around until there were forty five feet remaning between them again and then grabbed his other boot, limping around again and threw it at her. It had worked, not only it had managed to land one time granting him both satisfaction and doing some damage to her, but it had bought him the time he needed to come up with another strategy he hadn't tried yet. And it would be interesting to try and prove how well it would hold up against her. But that would have to come afterwards.
Attack roll with disadvantage!
9gLOC|0s1d20+5
1d20+5
Damage
1d4+2
1d6+31d20+5·1d20+5·1d4+2·1d6+3
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 12, 2019 4:46:37 GMT
This boot skidded to a stop at her feet; Kara scooped it up, closing the distance towards Arioch again, keeping twenty five feet from him. She didn’t grin a second time, but there was a light in her eyes reminiscent of it – And Kara hurled the boot back at Arioch. Attack roll with disadvantage: uEnFQ8zY1d20+3 or 1d20+3
Damage: 1d4+1
1d20+3·1d20+3·1d4+1 |
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Apr 12, 2019 4:58:35 GMT
He was almost laughing when she picked up the boot, this was turning into a real bad match of dodgeball, but instead of wrenches they were tossing pieces of armor at each other. Even though he was laughing he was well aware he should dodge it, because it could be painful as hell if it hit him in the face. Turns out he couldn't quite predict the trajectory it would take, and though it hit him in the chest where his armor was thickest, he could still feel the blunt "thump" with enough strength to the blow to make it a certainty that it would have hurt. He was all set and ready to put his strategy in place when he realised... That he had just given him his last piece of ammunition back. What to do? It was a no brainer.
He picked it up, approached within fifteen feet of her and threw it right back at her.
yi15NNiY1d20+5
Damage
1d4+2
1d6+3
But instead of retreating he kept advancing, he once again rolled forward but instead of regaining his footing he kept advancing towards her like that, and then tried to make a grab at her legs to throw her to the ground right where she was standing, to advance on top of her.
Contested strength check!
1d20+3
1d20+31d20+5·1d4+2·1d6+3·1d20+3·1d20+3
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Apr 12, 2019 5:00:56 GMT
omg
Critical boot
hhhp3RFk1d4
1d61d4·1d6
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 12, 2019 5:02:59 GMT
It wasn’t until the warrior threw the boot back at her that Kara realized she’d given him more ammunition; she tried to dodge, but it was already too late, and the boot smacked solidly into her face, a vicious hit. Blood trickled from her nose, and despite the pain Kara felt something like a laugh welling up in her chest. It was an unfamiliar sensation; she didn’t laugh, but she couldn’t remember when last she had come so close. He dropped down on the ground and lunged forward there; Kara didn’t hesitate, swooping the glaive down to thrust the blade at him. Attack roll with disadvantage: tuW1n7gj1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Kara missed again, and he lunged for her legs. She pulled backwards, not intending to be caught so easily.
Strength check with advantage:
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Kara just managed to pull herself free of the grasp, nearly on top of him now.
Kara shifted her grasp on the glaive and stabbed down at him, fiercely, using the sharp blade once, then swinging the glaive around to slam him with the heavy butt as well.
Attack (sharp edge, with advantage): 1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Damage: 1d10+5
Attack (blunt edge, with advantage): 1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Damage: 1d4+5
((8 damage, plus 29 from earlier)) 1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d10+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d4+5 |
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Apr 12, 2019 5:13:13 GMT
He was not thrilled to find out that the woman was really, really strong and able to hold her balance. Deceptively strong he would put it. However he did not have time to ponder on his mistake as the blade of the weapon reached his back, and the blunt end soon followed. However this worked in his favor; he figured she would then seize her opportunity and retreat, for it would be safer than remaining within his reach. Sure, he would try to make an attack against her legs while she was retreating, but it paled in comparison to what could happen to her should he regain his footing still within range of her.
And that was exactly what happened when he got up and swung his greatsword around with great strength. It was a calculated strike, but it wasn't his intent to kill her outright. Not only it was against the rules but it would be distasteful to kill such a skilled warrior. He wanted to fight her again, after both of them had learned from this encounter; his blade stopped short of her neck, taking a great deal of force and practice to pull that off.
Attack roll #1!
Reckless Attack
Power attack (-5/+10)
jUOD2swV1d20+1
1d20+1
Damage
2d6+15
1d6+3
"I yield" He said then, holding the blade in place for a few seconds before allowing it to go back to the side, falling to the ground. "But you should really let me have a rematch, it's the first time I see such a skilled fighter." He petitioned with a small smile. He let a few seconds pass afterwards, before finally asking her the question that had remained in his mind for the last few seconds at least, before that last swing of his sword.
"Vhy didn't you move back again just now?"1d20+1·1d20+1·2d6+15·1d6+3
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 12, 2019 5:24:00 GMT
There was only so long one could run. Kara had seized her chance to attack – but at what cost? The small wounds he’d given her had added up; the boot to the face had hurt most of all, although Kara was just glad he hadn’t broken her nose. He leapt to his feet, practically on top of her, swinging the greatsword at her.
Kara didn’t hesitate, didn’t even flinch; for a moment she had forgotten the rules of the Gathering, and expected him to end it as in any fight. Instead he stopped the blade not even inches from her neck – even with the sudden surge of adrenaline, Kara could appreciate the skill it took – and yielded.
He lowered the blade and Kara shook her head. “I don’t accept,” she said, pressing her hand to her nose, fingers coming away bloody. The heady rush of the fight was still pumping through her, even as the iron focus faded. Kara grinned again at Arioch; it was a strange feeling, the muscles in her face aching as if from disuse. “You won this one. Perhaps next time."
Kara shook the arm he'd hit with the boot out again, starting to move out of the arena; two more fighters were already entering the circle from the other side. She raised an eyebrow at Arioch. “It’s rude to take too long,” Kara said, simply. “Water?” She ducked through the edges of the crowd; next to the healing potions there were waterskins, and she picked one up, tilting her head back and taking a long drink. The motion pulled at the long, thin cut on her torso, but not badly enough to stop her.
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Apr 12, 2019 5:32:17 GMT
I don't accept, she had said.
"Are you going to kill me?"
He asked with a small smirk, watching her tend to her face. He felt a little guilt. Not at having done damage to her but at having used such an underhanded strategy, as indignified as throwing a boot at his enemy. If he had actually knocked her out with that strategy he would have been mortified. Granted, in actual combat anything as game, but still, that wasn't actual combat was it? It was a sparring match. And while he felt comfortable with a small level of monkeying around, he really had played with the threshold. He didn't retort to her saying he had won the match, but instead went to the square to gather back his boots, and his gauntlets, which were still lying around there just as the two other fighters were beginning to go into the arena.
After that he accepted her offer for water and went towards where the healing potions and the waterskins were, and also leaned down to grab one, after he was done putting the first gauntlet in place tying it up properly. He took a long drink, water felt nice after the fight. It wasn't about the length, or effort, it was about the intensity. After that he took a short sigh of relief, and glanced over at her wound.
"Might vant to get that cleaned up, you don't vant to know vhere my sword's been."
He said in a rather cheery, jestful mood, chuckling.
"Vhere did you learn to use a glaive like that?"
He asked then with great interest, it would be a fearsome thing to see in actual combat. He wondered how would she fare in the arena, or even if she would be interested in such a thing.
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Post by moralhazard on Apr 12, 2019 5:46:59 GMT
It was a dark night, but that didn’t matter for Kara; she could see the hordes of imaginary enemies just fine as she lunged across the training pavilion, swinging her practice sword with fierce, short strokes. She could only hear the rasp of her breath and the soft tap of her boots on the stones, but in her imagination there were yells and screams, defeated criminals of Sundabar falling left and right as she defended her city in a glorious battle.
“Do you sleep in that uniform?” A wry voice interrupted her reverie.
Kara froze, nearly dropping the sword and just managing to keep her grasp on it. She turned up to the observation stands, eyes wide. The voice had been enough – Captain Ironfist. The dwarf leaned against the low railing, looking down at her.
“Uh – Captain – I – “ Kara looked down at herself, at the crisp gold border of the Stone Shields tunic. She swallowed. “No sir! But I didn’t know what else to practice in.” She stood as straight as possible.
Ironfist chuckled, coming around to the stairs down to the training grounds and taking them down slowly. “Guardsman Bellringer, isn’t it?”
“Yes sir!” Kara stood a little straight, hand tightening on the sword.
“Why do they call you Bells?”
Two high spots of color appeared on Kara’s cheeks, but she replied just as firmly. “Because I’m shiny and new like the city’s bells, sir!”
Ironfist laughed outright, and Kara’s cheeks burned brighter.
“So,” Ironfist stopped in front of her. The dwarf was only an inch or two shorter than Kara but solidly outweighed her, with bulging biceps and triceps visible in her short-sleeved tunic. “A sword, eh?”
“Yes sir,” Kara looked down at the weapon, then back at the dwarf.
“Not for nothing – you should know how to use it,” Ironfist said, slowly. “You expect to grow much, Bells?”
Kara swallowed, hard. “I’m not sure, sir,” She admitted.
Ironfist nodded. “So your goal is to – what – hack at your enemies’ knees? Once you get the hang of swinging that thing. You look like a wet kitten swatting at a moth, just now.”
Kara swallowed, hard. “W-well I – ” She gritted her teeth. “I’ll practice as much as it takes, sir! I know I’m – a bit behind some of the others, but I swear, I’ll be out here every night until – ”
Ironfist grinned. “Don’t misunderstand me, Bells. I’ve no doubt you can master that sword, or any other weapon you put your mind to.”
“Sir?” Kara asked, tentatively.
“I’m saying you should pick something different for your late night practices.” Ironfist turned. “Come on.”
Kara wasn’t sure if she really had a choice; she followed the dwarf across the training grounds, until they stopped at the weapons shed.
“Here,” Ironfist reached forward, taking out a staff. “Give me that,” she took the training sword from Kara and put it away, then handed her the quarterstaff, and took down a second one.
“I know how to use a staff,” Kara said, indignant, looking down at the length of wood.
“Do you, really?” Ironfist grinned. “I doubt it.” She shut the shed, locking it again, and turned back to Kara. “Bells, you’re short. Average human man in this city’s going to have at least a head of height on you – any orc’ll have even more. By Helm’s armor, girl - you can run around trying to scratch their arses with your sword or you can learn something useful.” She thumped the staff solidly against the ground.
“A staff?” Kara asked, skeptically.
“A staff to start,” Ironfist grinned. “Maybe if you can use it without tripping over it, we’ll see about getting you a halberd. No – a glaive.”
“But – most guardsman use a sword,” Kara’s voice trailed off under Ironfist’s glare.
“You want to be most guardsmen?” Ironfist asked.
Kara hesitated, then shook her head.
“Excellent.” Ironfist grinned wider. “Then your first lesson starts now.” Kara didn’t see exactly what she’d done, but the staff flashed out – Kara felt pressure against her calves – and then she was sitting breathless on the ground, staff in hands.
Kara coughed, climbing to her feet slowly. She took a defensive stance this time, feet apart, hands apart and solidly gripping the staff.
“Good,” Ironfist said, cheerfully. “Blocking will help,” she moved in, the quarterstaff shifting and spinning in her hands.
Kara twisted, taking the blows on her staff – up, low, low, up, low, up – and even tentatively tried a return strike. Ironfist dodged, and her staff thumped Kara solidly in the stomach.
“Oof,” Kara coughed, doubling forward.
“Again,” Ironfist said, long before Kara felt she was ready to get back up.
Kara took a deep breath, straightened up, and took her defensive stance again.
By the time she limped back towards the barracks, it was easing past late night into the faintest stirrings of morning, and Kara was pretty sure she was more bruise than girl. Ironfist walked beside her, not one hair more out of place than it had been when they started the training session.
“Good progress,” Ironfist said, cheerfully. “You’ve a knack for this – I can tell.”
Kara winced, thinking of all the times she’d been dumped on her butt, smacked across the side, jabbed in the stomach, and felt Ironfist’s staff come whistling to a stop inches from her face. “Yes sir,” she mumbled.
Ironfist grinned. “I’ll expect you out there again tomorrow night. Same time, Guardsman?”
Kara straightened up. She couldn’t imagine how she was going to get through the day of training to come, let alone another night like this one – but she utterly refused to let that stop her. “Yes sir! Thank you, Captain!”
Ironfist laughed. “Get some sleep, then. You’ll need it.”
Kara made a noise that sounded almost like a snort at his comment, then winced a little at the pull on her nose. "Sundabar. Before the war," Kara took another drink of the water, rolling her head from side to side to crack her neck. She propped her glaive against one of the tables and lifted her shirt, revealing an impressive but probably unsurprising six-pack. Carefully, she splashed a bit of the water from the skin on her cut he'd made, leaning forward to let the blood drip cleanly onto the ground. "From Branmin Ironfist." She looked back at Arioch. "Where did you learn to throw so well?" There was no sound of amusement in her voice, nothing but an utterly serious look on her face - at least for a moment. She didn't smile again, nothing that intense, but there was a slight softening to her that - she hoped - indicated it was a joke. |
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