Post by Ossular on Mar 22, 2019 22:52:13 GMT
"BEGIN!"
ClQCdBl01d20+2 {Orin}
1d20+2 {Galem}
A humanoid form, armed in a lightly tinted full-plate armor that was wrapped in a dull yellow cape leveled his greatsword, moving forward at an alarming pace. Each metallic step brought him closer to his target, an elvish woman wearing half-plate who leveled her large circular shield of ironwood at the charge. He would lunge forward with his greatsword, just as heavy as a normal blade, but with dulled, blunted edges. This was a training exercise, though neither warrior seemed to take it as such.
1d20+9 ; 2d6+5
The fighter's first attack found purchase, throwing his weight behind the lunge. Even though the shield absorbed the blow, it still shook the woman behind it. She stumbled back, the shield being thrust to the side as the man came in with his second slash, a massive slash from the sky.
1d20+9
The woman would react, her eyes widening at the speed of which the man came forward. Bringing her shield up, she bashed the greatsword to the side, the slash hitting the ground at their feet. Dirt shot up, freckling the side of their makeshift arena outline, some of the chalk circle around them blowing away in the wind. The man took a step back, and that was the opening the woman was waiting for.
The elvish woman in half-plate would wait for his step backward- he had over-extended himself, and when he moved to correct his stance, that's when she pressed in, swinging a blunted battleaxe, carrying it over herself in an attempt to catch him off-guard.
1d20+5 ; 1d8+2
The axe came down, hooking the armored man straight into the collar area. Using her hook, she would drag him toward him, though he would resist- that was fine, she could work with either direction. With his own momentum, the woman brought up her shield and pressed forward with a shield bash.
1d20+5
The man in the plate mail was ready, though- either that, or more experienced- and even with an axe in his shoulder, he would drop down. The shield would jut over him, and using his shoulder, he would hook the woman in the midsection. Exploding up, the woman was flung over and behind him, landing with a harsh thud in the dirt behind him.
The armored man brought his greatsword up and spun, but he wasn't expecting her to be on her feet. Still, he committed, bringing his first slash down with a powerful yell. She moved her shield to intercept-
1d20+9 ; no damage, shoved ten feet/knocked prone.
The greatsword met the shield, absorbing another powerful slash from the larger man. The stroke was more powerful than she thought it would be, though, and she was forced backwards, stumbling and falling prone to the ground. Even as she recovered, though, the warrior was upon her with another slash. Even with a dulled blade, he would hold nothing back.
1d20+9 or 1d20+9 ; 2d6+5
The blunted edge of the greatsword slammed into the woman's midsection with enough power to cause the woman to recoil, but she didn't have time to spare. Core and chest on fire, wind knocked out of her, she scurried, rolling quickly. Driving herself up to her feet by her shield, she would spin low, bringing the battleaxe toward his legs.
1d20+5 ; 1d8+2
She hooked the man right behind the swell of his back. Using the leverage to stand herself up as the man moved backward, she would thrust the round shield directly at his helmet, leveling it horizontally across the brow of his slotted visor.
1d20+5
There was an impact of metal on metal as the man stumbled back five feet, stumbling as he brought a hand up to where his eyes were. He would snarl, hand quickly removing the helm to reveal a seafoam skin color with narrow, beady yellow eyes, freckled with red, on an otherwise human appearance, with a stout, wide nose. The only other inhuman thing about his appearance was two large tusks that ran up from his bottom lips to rest at slants that curved toward the corner of his eyes.
The half-orc fighter in the full plate would snarl, un-phased by the loss of his helmet, but instead more fueled. Half-orcs were known for being vicious warriors, and he did not- would not- disappoint, especially when it came to dueling an elvish woman pretending to be a warrior of all things. With another grunt and a shake of his head to re-focus, the half-orc would step back in, bringing his greatsword from one side of his body to the other to build up momentum.
1d20+9 ; 2d6+5
Dragging the greatsword in an almost sadistic fashion against the woman with a swing faster than she could fully react to, the half-orc would roar, stepping past her as the blunted greatsword sparked against the plates of her armor. A yelp of pain would only bring a smile to his face as he swept the greatsword out with a flick, only to continue. With another wild spin, he would bring the greatsword into another circle, swooping it low before forcing it straight down on her.
1d20+9 ; 2d6+5
Despite the woman's effort to block the attack, her shield had been too far out from the previous attack. Driven by a natural prowess and focused rage, the greatsword came down right across the helmet of the shield-maiden, and would twist her violently to the side. Her legs bowed and crumbled as she twisted, the impact of the strike twisting her into a spiral before she landed in the sand of the practice arena. Across the side of the helmet was a crack- even from a blunted greatsword, the force had been enough to split the side of her forehead and all but shatter the helm with a wicked gash. The half-orc would spit into the sand at her feet as she groaned, throwing the greatsword down into the sand and walking away as several of the other people that had been standing off to the side came to the elvish woman's aid.
1d8+3
Helmet removed by the healer, Orin would gasp as she came back to consciousness. The younger dwarven cleric would smile as she woke back up. "There ya go, lass, nice an' easy." She would groan, the gash on the side of her head still bleeding as she sprung up. Her eyes of Summer would narrow on the half-orc as he turned back around, kicking his sword back at him cross the dirt.
"Is that the best you got?" she'd bark, picking up her battleaxe as she winced, twisting her head to the side. The cleric, having seen this before, looked back to the half-orc, who looked to the side to look at a man. Standing firmly at the side of the chalk circle, he stood, a tall half-giant of a man with his hands firmly clasped behind him. He stood, shirtless, with a massive scar across his chest, carved through the middle of the tribal story of his people only wearing shorts.
"If you wish, Galem," the large, scarred goliath would nod.
Orin would smirk, and the half-orc would chuckle in slight disbelief, reaching down to pick up his greatsword. "Fine, I'll whip her ass again." The fighter would turn back to the dwarf cleric that stood off to the side. "Heal 'er up all the way," he'd snarl. "I don't want her making excuses."
1d20+2 for Orin's initiative.
1d20+2 for Galem's initiative.
"Don't hold back this time," Orin would wipe her brow, blood smearing across the back of her gauntlet before spitting out red into the sand in a nature that was very un-elvish. The moment the healing energy washed over her, she would move, her first footfall hitting the dirt was the goliath spoke once more to signal the start of the second match. Orin would move in, zigzagging and closing the distance as the half-orc fighter brought up his sword. The taste of iron and blood in her mouth only drove her swing, the battleaxe moving fast.
1d20+5
The half-orc would twist his blade up, twisting the axe strike away from him and harmlessly off of his shoulder plate. Orin would twist around, throwing the shield toward his face in an attempt to make him stumble backward.
1d20+5
The shield would swing in, a loud concussion echoing through the area as the half-orc was body-checked hard. Despite his resistance, his feet left trails in the sand, having been pushed back about five feet from the power of her slam. He looked to the back of the chalk outline that etched around the raised circular platform they were in, and Orin moved in to press her advantage. He wasn't going to let the elvish woman get another hit on him, though!
Galem snarled, bringing his greatsword flat against him before swinging the flat in, stepping in to press against her shield and try to open her guard.
1d20+9
As the half-orc pressed in, Orin pressed back against his blade, the two entering a deadlock of sorts. He would snarl, leaning upward to force her down to a knee against his weight before shouting. He would lunge forward with a wild headbutt.
1d20+5 ; 1d4+5 damage to himself.
Galem brought his head down, seeking to use his hard head as a bludgeon to force Orin back. What he wasn't expecting was the rim of the shield as Orin leaned back further, giving him just enough space to mess up what he was going to do. Straight across the flat of his forehead, with another resounding thud, a couple of the people standing around, watching the sparring match would groan in sympathy pain. The goliath stood resolute.
Orin, on the other hand, knew she had a temporary advantage with that little maneuver. Unfurling from her defensive position, she brought the axe straight up in a stiff uppercut to drive it straight against him from her crouched position on the ground.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5 ; 1d8+3
Glancing the blow off the side of the half-orc's head, he sneered in pain before twisting to the side. Orin stepped up, seeking another bash with the shield to force him from the chalk ring.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
As Orin brought her circular shield across his body, he would take the hit, and instead of being forced back, he would use her shield to hang on. The warlock tried to step forward, and instead, Galem would attempt to swing her over his body in a grapple.
1d20+9 Galem's Athletics to grapple vs. 1d20+5 Orin's Athletics to resist.
The half-orc grunted, trying to pry Orin over his shoulder, but the eladrin knew better. Hunching down, she played dead-weight, and even with his impressive strength, momentum wasn't on his side. Galem wouldn't be able to hoist her like he wanted to.
Galem still hung onto the side of the arena, grip on the edge of her shield as the two wrestled back and forth. Orin would snarl, and in another unexpected move, would bite as his fingers.
1d20+3
The orc would snarl as he felt her teeth into the top of his hand, but he would not relinquish his grip. Orin would back off, spitting the taste out of her mouth before she moved forward, trying to rock the both of them over the edge.
1d20+5
The shield would find the half-orc's center of mass as Orin shoved, coming from the ground to press upward. Lifting the half-orc onto her shield in an impressive display, the eladrin would step forward, jumping off the edge of the ring with him before throwing her weight onto his midsection as they both spilled into the hard stonework of the practice area.
1d6 Fall damage for both.
1d6 Additional damage for Galem.
The eladrin would be up first, the greatsword clattering to the ground as a couple of the people backed away. Knowing Galem, and knowing Orin (from the little amount of time they had, at least), they weren't done with this match just because they were outside of the sand circle that was set up for training. The goliath would simply move, watching intently.
Grabbing his midsection, the half-orc would roll out of the way, with the eladrin taking the opportunity to attack while he was down.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5 ; 1d8+3
The ax came down across the back of his arm as Orin bludgeoned the him. He'd hiss through his teeth, pressed together in frustration before grabbing his greatsword from the ground. Catching his breath, Galem would chuckle. "Not bad, woman. It's been a minute, not gonna lie. Don't think it means anything, though-!" He would step back in, swinging at Orin wildly as he brought the sword across her side, attempting to shove her into the edge of the ring they had just fallen from.
1d20+9; no damage (shove option)
Orin would impact the side, despite her shield blocking the attack. The impact of the flat side onto a gong, the warlock would falter, falling to her knee. The half-orc took the chance to line up an opportune strike, swinging with violent intent behind his eyes, a bestial snarl and wicked smirk coming across his mouth.
1d20+9 or 1d20+9 ;
Edit: 2d6+5
Another impact flung Orin against the wall, this one stinging straight into the same he had sawed into her midsection during their first round.
The eladrin hissed as she sprang up. Her own expression of focus and power across her features, Orin stepped in, swinging her battleaxe down onto the half-orc, trying to stay up close to fighter to prevent him from swinging the greatsword like he wanted. She had the shorter weapon, which would give her the advantage if she could just stay close, but her opponent was skilled in combat. It was part of the reason she had come here to these barracks, It was part of the reason that she had asked for a duel with someone that wouldn't hold back. She had to test herself. Orin had to find herself, and this was the start of that journey. No borrowed power. No magic. Just herself, her shield, and a weapon.
Orin let out a cry as she swung into Galem's range, bringing the axe toward the center of mass.
1d20+5
Her hit wouldn't find it's way through her opponent's full plate. He took the blow, angling it to glance off. Still, Orin had to try, and she would curl her arm, using the flat of the shield in order to press him back into the wall next to them.
1d20+5
Galem would snarl, being forced into the small wall as his leg gave out.
The half-orc was getting tired of this woman, though. Showing up and challenging them? The only reason he had even done this was because of the commander, Narrok, telling him to. He only wanted to be done with this fight, and having been knocked down once again at the hands of the elvish woman didn't sit well with him, and it didn't bode well for Orin, either. He brought himself up to his feet, shouldering her back and giving himself enough room for a swing.
1d20+9
His frustrations got the better of him, though. Orin would duck, bringing up her shield as she moved down to a crouch. It would skirt the shield and drive straight into the stone wall, sundering the blade in half with a echoing reverberation. The top-half of the blunted blade rolled behind Orin. He'd drop the broken weapon with a snarl, reaching forward to grab Orin instead.
1d20+9 Athletics for Garen vs. 1d20+5 Athletics for Orin.
Fueled by a primal rage, Orin wasn't expecting the grapple. One hand latched onto the collar of her breastplate and the other grabbed a belt. Galem would roar as he turned, bringing Orin in a full-on wild throw as he launched her toward a nearby training dummy.
1d20+5 ; 2d6+5
Orin crashed through the training dummy, not splintering it, but breaking off several of it's arms and sending it into a spinning motion on itself. The eladrin groaned, stumbling to her feet as she brought herself up. Instead of waiting, though, she would spit up a fresh dollop of blood into the dirt. Tightening her grips on her shield in her right hand and her battleaxe in her left, she would narrow her eyes. "Is that all you got, you wild boar!?" A taunt, and one that dug into his skin as she prepared, taking the Dodge action, readying for his next attack.
Galem knew that Orin was taunting him. It would only drive him that much further- he had been planning on running after her either way, but first he moved around her in a circle, coming closer to the wall and a group of people. "Spear!" he'd snarl, holding his hand out. One of the squires listened, tossing him the weapon he called for as he spun it around itself quickly enough.
Moving in, he'd lunge at Orin, who stood, watching him from behind the edge of her shield.
1d20+9 or 1d20+9 (taking the lower)
The spear came forward, and Orin was ready. Stepping to the side, the spear missed completely, and she would level the shield down in a chop, breaking his new weapon before swatting at him with the same shield, stepping back against him.
1d20+5 ; 1d4+3
Galem staggered backwards, bringing a hand up to his face. It wasn't broken, but the center of the shield had landed directly on his nose.
Orin saw the half-orc, staggering backwards and groaning in pain, and decided to move forward with her attack. It was here that all of the thoughts started to melt away. There was only this moment. There was nothing outside of this moment. It was this kind of moment that Orin sought through her entire first life- the thrill of a challenge. A small smirk broke across her face as she swung her battleaxe with a shout of focus.
1d20+5 ; 2d8+3
A small but hard impact straight across the face, Galem's head lurched to the side. Blood poured from a split brow, and he'd groan, wincing as blood filled his vision across his left side, a crimson mask across his pale seafoam skin. Orin would continue to push in, swinging with her shield.
1d20+5 ; 1d4 rounds of disadvantage for attacks and rounds of advantage for Orin.
The half-orc grunted, stumbling backwards, trying to wipe some of the blood from his eyes. It stung like fire, but even now, as the goliath commander watched from the edge of the ring, having quietly moved his way to get a better view of the combat, his eyes would focus with the natural rage of his race. With a yell, Galem would swing wildly, opting to do this with his hands.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
1d20+5 or 1d20+5 (6 unarmed damage to himself)
A sickening crack was hurt as the eladrin leveled the shield into his second punch, and as the half-orc pulled his hand back, he'd wince in pain. The two fingers on his left hand were bent to the side, broken out of place. The bloody mask across his face was stinging, and now he was driving himself to further disadvantage with his wild style.
Orin, however, would take advantage of the opportunity presented by her competent defense. Keeping up on her assault, the eladrin swung again, the battleaxe seeking to find another bite out of her foe.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Bringing his hands in and tightening up his stance, Orin swung wide, missing Galem, though had plenty of time to correct herself. With her shield, she pressed forward, seeking to knock her opponent down.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Orin landed her blow, but Galem took the hit with his forearms.
Snarling through the pain and the mask, the half-orc pressed forward, shoving Orin back before trying to level her with a straight kick.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
The thunderous impact hit dead center on the shield, but even with his powerful kick, Orin didn't budge, pressing against the kick. Once more he tried, digging his back foot in to throw the other one at his eladrin opponent.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Another kick, another attack deflected by the shield that Orin used. Twisting to take the blow, another thunderous kick against her circular shield, Orin stood resolute, pressing the offense once again.
Not much time before the blood would stop stinging his eyes, Orin would rush in, trying to shove him to the ground to throw him off balance.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
He would shove against Orin. Even with his eyes closed, his natural strength aided him. Using the ledge of the circle behind him, he would stay upright for the first attack. The eladrin let out a frustrated scream, swinging the shield in an attempt to knock him over once again.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
This time, Galem would fall to the side. Thinking quickly, he picked up a little bit of the sand from the ground, smearing it across his face to help with the blood. It clung enough to let him wipe his eyes clean, and while they still stung, at least he could see well enough to mount some kind of offense once again. Turning toward Orin, he would stand up, taking a breath. Instead of charging at her, there would be a sickening cracking noise as he re-socketed his fingers back into place enough to then close the hand into a fist. Taking a second to catch his breath, he refocused, standing in a ready stance.
(Galem used a Second Wind, regaining 20 HP!)
Orin would purse her lips as she rotated her arm. He was prepared this time, and while she knew it, she was greedy enough to take the risk of attacking him.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Despite his readiness, as the half-orc caught her wrist, stopping her first ax attack, he wasn't expecting her knee to come up straight into his gut. He'd lose breath, stumbling back before throwing her off to the side before swinging his balled up fist at her.
Stepping in with a one-two combo, a knee of his own would follow the punch.
1d20+5
1d20+5 ; 6 damage
As Orin blocked the fist strike, she had moved her shield up to do it. Even with his damaged fingers, Galem would fight through the pain, taking the opportunity to level a knee straight to the top of her sternum.
Orin would stagger backwards, but not enough to be out of range, bringing her axe around, she stepped in with a back stroke, coming into the opposite direction than she had previously.
1d20+5
Galem stepped completely to the side, and Orin's axe met the same fate that the greatsword had- she swung down with such ferocity that the handle couldn't take it, the head shattering from the rest of the weapon. Ducking a backhand from Galem, she would swing her shield into the same spot, twisting in a full circle to do so.
1d20+5
The half-orc champion took the blow as Orin hit him with such force that she knocked him up to the top of the ring that rested about eight feet off the ground. He spun, coming to his feet as Orin and Galem looked at each other for a second, panting heavily.
No words would be exchanged. The rest of the grounds had stopped and gathered around their match, watching intently. Galem would wipe his hand across his tusks, and Orin would remain focused, breathing heavily. The half-man would roar, though, throwing himself at Orin in a spear from the ring.
1d20+5
The two would land, rolling in a chaotic tussle that would wind up with Galem behind Orin. The crease of his elbow met the front of her neck, the forearm and bicep pressing against either side as he pulled back into a grapple, lifting the eladrin from her feet. "Don't worry. You'll only go out like a bitch," the half-orc would sneer into Orin's ear. Her vision would start fading fast, and she just reacted.
As he drug her upward, Orin would fizzle from existence, appearing under his grapple. The mist would spark, and the wispy trail would ignite in a golden flash fire that burnt Galem. Not much, but just enough for Orin to escape the grapple. As he held his face in pain, Orin would make her way to a weapons rack, retrieving another weapon- a longsword, before stepping back in to swing at him.
1d20+5
Orin swung it like an axe, though, instead of a longsword, and it bounced off of the thigh of the half-orc's plate armor.
Shaking his head, Galem would step forward, and instead of swinging, would attempt to grab Orin's shield from her!
1d20+9 Galem's Athletics vs. 1d20+2 Orin's Athletics. (Mistake was made earlier. My bad.)
Orin saw it coming from a mile away. Adjusting her grip, she would pull in, then lunge her full weight into him. They both fell to the ground, with the eladrin rolling over the half-orc. Coming to her feet as he was still prone, the eladrin would swing the sword straight down to her vulnerable target.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5 ; 1d8+3
Knowing the fight wasn't over from that strike, Orin continued, kicking the half-orc in the ribs while he was down.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Galem would roll to the side, standing up. Instead of waiting for someone to throw a weapon, he would stumble over to the same rack that Orin had pulled a weapon from, aiming to do the same- but not before Orin took her opportunity to attack.
1d20+5
The orc brought his bracers up, deflecting Orin's blow before staggering to the rack, grabbing his own longsword. Without a shield, though, he would clinch both hands around the handle, swinging at Orin with much more power than she could muster as he ran back in with a wild swing, then a second wild swing.
1d20+9
1d20+9
Orin would step back, letting him swing wildly and wide, then duck under the second strike as he cleaved through another arm of the training dummy she had been thrown into. Calls and cheers had begun to come from the other soldiers in the area- no gambling, but this had went on longer than most thought it would. The goliath would unfurl his arms from behind him and cross the tree-sized forearms over his broad, scarred chest in silent interest that was rising by the minute.
The eladrin would swing her longsword, aiming for the center of mass. Any hit that she could get, any damage she could sink in as her body started to ache more and more the longer this took.
1d20+5
Orin would hit, but square in the middle of the armored chest, doing nothing as the half-man champion pressed into Orin again.
1d20+9
Orin would duck him again- even with two hands, his swings were too wild, too used to the weight of a blade much bigger, and Orin would take advantage once again. She would press the shield into him, explode upward and use his own imbalance in order to throw him over her. He would land into the dirt with a thud, losing his breath and his focus on his second attack.
By the time he would have even thought to swing, though, Orin would be on top of him, not wanting to waste this opportunity against her prone opponent.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5 ; 1d8+2
DM Note: (Modifier on Orin's damage rolls was wrong on a couple of attacks. This has been corrected within the HP I'm keeping track of.)
Orin would make contact, but it wouldn't be satisfying enough for her. Instead of swinging her shield, though, Orin would take a moment to adjust her grip.
In that moment, Galem would pop up from the ground. There was no style or finesse in his swing- it was all power.
1d20+9 ; 1d8+5
It was with that powerful swing that Galem would surprise everyone. He lunged instead, and Orin couldn't correct in time. He stepped in, and even though the edges of the longsword had been dulled, it still found it's way through the eladrin's armor. She would exhale in surprise, her eyes going wide in pain as it overwhelmed her senses. Her arms dropped to her side, the shield and the sword falling to the ground as everyone silenced their cheers to watch, some in surprise, others in awe at what the half-orc had just accomplished with a blunt sword with no point.
"Remember this next time, elf-bitch, and know your place," Galem would snarl at her as she chuckled, blood running from her lips. He would purse his lips, his tusks pressed above his lips harshly as he came closer. "What's-so-damn-funny?!"
"I think- you should probably remember- this more," Orin would say back through labored breaths. "This is- the deepest- you'll ever get- in a woman- with a face like that." His eyes would widened in rage as Orin let loose a chuckle before coughing. "Was it good- for you?" With that, Galem would bring up his foot, kicking Orin square in the face to remove the blade from her, her body falling limp, her vision fading into unconsciousness. Her vision quickly faded to black with several people moving toward her, and a large footfall landing over her.
Final HP count:
Galem (half-orc Champion, {p. 212 Volo's Guide to Monsters} CR 9): 95/143
Orin: (warlock without magic or invocations; assumed to be level five for this thread) 0/381d20+2·1d20+2·1d20+9·2d6+5·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d8+2·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+9·1d20+9·2d6+5·1d20+5·1d8+2·1d20+5·1d20+9·2d6+5·1d20+9·2d6+5·1d8+3·1d20+2·1d20+2·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d4+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d8+3·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d20+3·1d20+5·1d6·1d6·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d8+3·1d20+9·1d20+9·1d20+9··2d6+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d20+5·2d6+5·1d20+9·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d4+3·1d20+5·2d8+3·1d20+5·1d4·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+2·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d8+3·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d8+2·1d20+9·1d8+5
ClQCdBl01d20+2 {Orin}
1d20+2 {Galem}
A humanoid form, armed in a lightly tinted full-plate armor that was wrapped in a dull yellow cape leveled his greatsword, moving forward at an alarming pace. Each metallic step brought him closer to his target, an elvish woman wearing half-plate who leveled her large circular shield of ironwood at the charge. He would lunge forward with his greatsword, just as heavy as a normal blade, but with dulled, blunted edges. This was a training exercise, though neither warrior seemed to take it as such.
1d20+9 ; 2d6+5
The fighter's first attack found purchase, throwing his weight behind the lunge. Even though the shield absorbed the blow, it still shook the woman behind it. She stumbled back, the shield being thrust to the side as the man came in with his second slash, a massive slash from the sky.
1d20+9
The woman would react, her eyes widening at the speed of which the man came forward. Bringing her shield up, she bashed the greatsword to the side, the slash hitting the ground at their feet. Dirt shot up, freckling the side of their makeshift arena outline, some of the chalk circle around them blowing away in the wind. The man took a step back, and that was the opening the woman was waiting for.
The elvish woman in half-plate would wait for his step backward- he had over-extended himself, and when he moved to correct his stance, that's when she pressed in, swinging a blunted battleaxe, carrying it over herself in an attempt to catch him off-guard.
1d20+5 ; 1d8+2
The axe came down, hooking the armored man straight into the collar area. Using her hook, she would drag him toward him, though he would resist- that was fine, she could work with either direction. With his own momentum, the woman brought up her shield and pressed forward with a shield bash.
1d20+5
The man in the plate mail was ready, though- either that, or more experienced- and even with an axe in his shoulder, he would drop down. The shield would jut over him, and using his shoulder, he would hook the woman in the midsection. Exploding up, the woman was flung over and behind him, landing with a harsh thud in the dirt behind him.
The armored man brought his greatsword up and spun, but he wasn't expecting her to be on her feet. Still, he committed, bringing his first slash down with a powerful yell. She moved her shield to intercept-
1d20+9 ; no damage, shoved ten feet/knocked prone.
The greatsword met the shield, absorbing another powerful slash from the larger man. The stroke was more powerful than she thought it would be, though, and she was forced backwards, stumbling and falling prone to the ground. Even as she recovered, though, the warrior was upon her with another slash. Even with a dulled blade, he would hold nothing back.
1d20+9 or 1d20+9 ; 2d6+5
The blunted edge of the greatsword slammed into the woman's midsection with enough power to cause the woman to recoil, but she didn't have time to spare. Core and chest on fire, wind knocked out of her, she scurried, rolling quickly. Driving herself up to her feet by her shield, she would spin low, bringing the battleaxe toward his legs.
1d20+5 ; 1d8+2
She hooked the man right behind the swell of his back. Using the leverage to stand herself up as the man moved backward, she would thrust the round shield directly at his helmet, leveling it horizontally across the brow of his slotted visor.
1d20+5
There was an impact of metal on metal as the man stumbled back five feet, stumbling as he brought a hand up to where his eyes were. He would snarl, hand quickly removing the helm to reveal a seafoam skin color with narrow, beady yellow eyes, freckled with red, on an otherwise human appearance, with a stout, wide nose. The only other inhuman thing about his appearance was two large tusks that ran up from his bottom lips to rest at slants that curved toward the corner of his eyes.
The half-orc fighter in the full plate would snarl, un-phased by the loss of his helmet, but instead more fueled. Half-orcs were known for being vicious warriors, and he did not- would not- disappoint, especially when it came to dueling an elvish woman pretending to be a warrior of all things. With another grunt and a shake of his head to re-focus, the half-orc would step back in, bringing his greatsword from one side of his body to the other to build up momentum.
1d20+9 ; 2d6+5
Dragging the greatsword in an almost sadistic fashion against the woman with a swing faster than she could fully react to, the half-orc would roar, stepping past her as the blunted greatsword sparked against the plates of her armor. A yelp of pain would only bring a smile to his face as he swept the greatsword out with a flick, only to continue. With another wild spin, he would bring the greatsword into another circle, swooping it low before forcing it straight down on her.
1d20+9 ; 2d6+5
Despite the woman's effort to block the attack, her shield had been too far out from the previous attack. Driven by a natural prowess and focused rage, the greatsword came down right across the helmet of the shield-maiden, and would twist her violently to the side. Her legs bowed and crumbled as she twisted, the impact of the strike twisting her into a spiral before she landed in the sand of the practice arena. Across the side of the helmet was a crack- even from a blunted greatsword, the force had been enough to split the side of her forehead and all but shatter the helm with a wicked gash. The half-orc would spit into the sand at her feet as she groaned, throwing the greatsword down into the sand and walking away as several of the other people that had been standing off to the side came to the elvish woman's aid.
1d8+3
Helmet removed by the healer, Orin would gasp as she came back to consciousness. The younger dwarven cleric would smile as she woke back up. "There ya go, lass, nice an' easy." She would groan, the gash on the side of her head still bleeding as she sprung up. Her eyes of Summer would narrow on the half-orc as he turned back around, kicking his sword back at him cross the dirt.
"Is that the best you got?" she'd bark, picking up her battleaxe as she winced, twisting her head to the side. The cleric, having seen this before, looked back to the half-orc, who looked to the side to look at a man. Standing firmly at the side of the chalk circle, he stood, a tall half-giant of a man with his hands firmly clasped behind him. He stood, shirtless, with a massive scar across his chest, carved through the middle of the tribal story of his people only wearing shorts.
"If you wish, Galem," the large, scarred goliath would nod.
Orin would smirk, and the half-orc would chuckle in slight disbelief, reaching down to pick up his greatsword. "Fine, I'll whip her ass again." The fighter would turn back to the dwarf cleric that stood off to the side. "Heal 'er up all the way," he'd snarl. "I don't want her making excuses."
1d20+2 for Orin's initiative.
1d20+2 for Galem's initiative.
"Don't hold back this time," Orin would wipe her brow, blood smearing across the back of her gauntlet before spitting out red into the sand in a nature that was very un-elvish. The moment the healing energy washed over her, she would move, her first footfall hitting the dirt was the goliath spoke once more to signal the start of the second match. Orin would move in, zigzagging and closing the distance as the half-orc fighter brought up his sword. The taste of iron and blood in her mouth only drove her swing, the battleaxe moving fast.
1d20+5
The half-orc would twist his blade up, twisting the axe strike away from him and harmlessly off of his shoulder plate. Orin would twist around, throwing the shield toward his face in an attempt to make him stumble backward.
1d20+5
The shield would swing in, a loud concussion echoing through the area as the half-orc was body-checked hard. Despite his resistance, his feet left trails in the sand, having been pushed back about five feet from the power of her slam. He looked to the back of the chalk outline that etched around the raised circular platform they were in, and Orin moved in to press her advantage. He wasn't going to let the elvish woman get another hit on him, though!
Galem snarled, bringing his greatsword flat against him before swinging the flat in, stepping in to press against her shield and try to open her guard.
1d20+9
As the half-orc pressed in, Orin pressed back against his blade, the two entering a deadlock of sorts. He would snarl, leaning upward to force her down to a knee against his weight before shouting. He would lunge forward with a wild headbutt.
1d20+5 ; 1d4+5 damage to himself.
Galem brought his head down, seeking to use his hard head as a bludgeon to force Orin back. What he wasn't expecting was the rim of the shield as Orin leaned back further, giving him just enough space to mess up what he was going to do. Straight across the flat of his forehead, with another resounding thud, a couple of the people standing around, watching the sparring match would groan in sympathy pain. The goliath stood resolute.
Orin, on the other hand, knew she had a temporary advantage with that little maneuver. Unfurling from her defensive position, she brought the axe straight up in a stiff uppercut to drive it straight against him from her crouched position on the ground.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5 ; 1d8+3
Glancing the blow off the side of the half-orc's head, he sneered in pain before twisting to the side. Orin stepped up, seeking another bash with the shield to force him from the chalk ring.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
As Orin brought her circular shield across his body, he would take the hit, and instead of being forced back, he would use her shield to hang on. The warlock tried to step forward, and instead, Galem would attempt to swing her over his body in a grapple.
1d20+9 Galem's Athletics to grapple vs. 1d20+5 Orin's Athletics to resist.
The half-orc grunted, trying to pry Orin over his shoulder, but the eladrin knew better. Hunching down, she played dead-weight, and even with his impressive strength, momentum wasn't on his side. Galem wouldn't be able to hoist her like he wanted to.
Galem still hung onto the side of the arena, grip on the edge of her shield as the two wrestled back and forth. Orin would snarl, and in another unexpected move, would bite as his fingers.
1d20+3
The orc would snarl as he felt her teeth into the top of his hand, but he would not relinquish his grip. Orin would back off, spitting the taste out of her mouth before she moved forward, trying to rock the both of them over the edge.
1d20+5
The shield would find the half-orc's center of mass as Orin shoved, coming from the ground to press upward. Lifting the half-orc onto her shield in an impressive display, the eladrin would step forward, jumping off the edge of the ring with him before throwing her weight onto his midsection as they both spilled into the hard stonework of the practice area.
1d6 Fall damage for both.
1d6 Additional damage for Galem.
The eladrin would be up first, the greatsword clattering to the ground as a couple of the people backed away. Knowing Galem, and knowing Orin (from the little amount of time they had, at least), they weren't done with this match just because they were outside of the sand circle that was set up for training. The goliath would simply move, watching intently.
Grabbing his midsection, the half-orc would roll out of the way, with the eladrin taking the opportunity to attack while he was down.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5 ; 1d8+3
The ax came down across the back of his arm as Orin bludgeoned the him. He'd hiss through his teeth, pressed together in frustration before grabbing his greatsword from the ground. Catching his breath, Galem would chuckle. "Not bad, woman. It's been a minute, not gonna lie. Don't think it means anything, though-!" He would step back in, swinging at Orin wildly as he brought the sword across her side, attempting to shove her into the edge of the ring they had just fallen from.
1d20+9; no damage (shove option)
Orin would impact the side, despite her shield blocking the attack. The impact of the flat side onto a gong, the warlock would falter, falling to her knee. The half-orc took the chance to line up an opportune strike, swinging with violent intent behind his eyes, a bestial snarl and wicked smirk coming across his mouth.
1d20+9 or 1d20+9 ;
Edit: 2d6+5
Another impact flung Orin against the wall, this one stinging straight into the same he had sawed into her midsection during their first round.
The eladrin hissed as she sprang up. Her own expression of focus and power across her features, Orin stepped in, swinging her battleaxe down onto the half-orc, trying to stay up close to fighter to prevent him from swinging the greatsword like he wanted. She had the shorter weapon, which would give her the advantage if she could just stay close, but her opponent was skilled in combat. It was part of the reason she had come here to these barracks, It was part of the reason that she had asked for a duel with someone that wouldn't hold back. She had to test herself. Orin had to find herself, and this was the start of that journey. No borrowed power. No magic. Just herself, her shield, and a weapon.
Orin let out a cry as she swung into Galem's range, bringing the axe toward the center of mass.
1d20+5
Her hit wouldn't find it's way through her opponent's full plate. He took the blow, angling it to glance off. Still, Orin had to try, and she would curl her arm, using the flat of the shield in order to press him back into the wall next to them.
1d20+5
Galem would snarl, being forced into the small wall as his leg gave out.
The half-orc was getting tired of this woman, though. Showing up and challenging them? The only reason he had even done this was because of the commander, Narrok, telling him to. He only wanted to be done with this fight, and having been knocked down once again at the hands of the elvish woman didn't sit well with him, and it didn't bode well for Orin, either. He brought himself up to his feet, shouldering her back and giving himself enough room for a swing.
1d20+9
His frustrations got the better of him, though. Orin would duck, bringing up her shield as she moved down to a crouch. It would skirt the shield and drive straight into the stone wall, sundering the blade in half with a echoing reverberation. The top-half of the blunted blade rolled behind Orin. He'd drop the broken weapon with a snarl, reaching forward to grab Orin instead.
1d20+9 Athletics for Garen vs. 1d20+5 Athletics for Orin.
Fueled by a primal rage, Orin wasn't expecting the grapple. One hand latched onto the collar of her breastplate and the other grabbed a belt. Galem would roar as he turned, bringing Orin in a full-on wild throw as he launched her toward a nearby training dummy.
1d20+5 ; 2d6+5
Orin crashed through the training dummy, not splintering it, but breaking off several of it's arms and sending it into a spinning motion on itself. The eladrin groaned, stumbling to her feet as she brought herself up. Instead of waiting, though, she would spit up a fresh dollop of blood into the dirt. Tightening her grips on her shield in her right hand and her battleaxe in her left, she would narrow her eyes. "Is that all you got, you wild boar!?" A taunt, and one that dug into his skin as she prepared, taking the Dodge action, readying for his next attack.
Galem knew that Orin was taunting him. It would only drive him that much further- he had been planning on running after her either way, but first he moved around her in a circle, coming closer to the wall and a group of people. "Spear!" he'd snarl, holding his hand out. One of the squires listened, tossing him the weapon he called for as he spun it around itself quickly enough.
Moving in, he'd lunge at Orin, who stood, watching him from behind the edge of her shield.
1d20+9 or 1d20+9 (taking the lower)
The spear came forward, and Orin was ready. Stepping to the side, the spear missed completely, and she would level the shield down in a chop, breaking his new weapon before swatting at him with the same shield, stepping back against him.
1d20+5 ; 1d4+3
Galem staggered backwards, bringing a hand up to his face. It wasn't broken, but the center of the shield had landed directly on his nose.
Orin saw the half-orc, staggering backwards and groaning in pain, and decided to move forward with her attack. It was here that all of the thoughts started to melt away. There was only this moment. There was nothing outside of this moment. It was this kind of moment that Orin sought through her entire first life- the thrill of a challenge. A small smirk broke across her face as she swung her battleaxe with a shout of focus.
1d20+5 ; 2d8+3
A small but hard impact straight across the face, Galem's head lurched to the side. Blood poured from a split brow, and he'd groan, wincing as blood filled his vision across his left side, a crimson mask across his pale seafoam skin. Orin would continue to push in, swinging with her shield.
1d20+5 ; 1d4 rounds of disadvantage for attacks and rounds of advantage for Orin.
The half-orc grunted, stumbling backwards, trying to wipe some of the blood from his eyes. It stung like fire, but even now, as the goliath commander watched from the edge of the ring, having quietly moved his way to get a better view of the combat, his eyes would focus with the natural rage of his race. With a yell, Galem would swing wildly, opting to do this with his hands.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
1d20+5 or 1d20+5 (6 unarmed damage to himself)
A sickening crack was hurt as the eladrin leveled the shield into his second punch, and as the half-orc pulled his hand back, he'd wince in pain. The two fingers on his left hand were bent to the side, broken out of place. The bloody mask across his face was stinging, and now he was driving himself to further disadvantage with his wild style.
Orin, however, would take advantage of the opportunity presented by her competent defense. Keeping up on her assault, the eladrin swung again, the battleaxe seeking to find another bite out of her foe.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Bringing his hands in and tightening up his stance, Orin swung wide, missing Galem, though had plenty of time to correct herself. With her shield, she pressed forward, seeking to knock her opponent down.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Orin landed her blow, but Galem took the hit with his forearms.
Snarling through the pain and the mask, the half-orc pressed forward, shoving Orin back before trying to level her with a straight kick.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
The thunderous impact hit dead center on the shield, but even with his powerful kick, Orin didn't budge, pressing against the kick. Once more he tried, digging his back foot in to throw the other one at his eladrin opponent.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Another kick, another attack deflected by the shield that Orin used. Twisting to take the blow, another thunderous kick against her circular shield, Orin stood resolute, pressing the offense once again.
Not much time before the blood would stop stinging his eyes, Orin would rush in, trying to shove him to the ground to throw him off balance.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
He would shove against Orin. Even with his eyes closed, his natural strength aided him. Using the ledge of the circle behind him, he would stay upright for the first attack. The eladrin let out a frustrated scream, swinging the shield in an attempt to knock him over once again.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
This time, Galem would fall to the side. Thinking quickly, he picked up a little bit of the sand from the ground, smearing it across his face to help with the blood. It clung enough to let him wipe his eyes clean, and while they still stung, at least he could see well enough to mount some kind of offense once again. Turning toward Orin, he would stand up, taking a breath. Instead of charging at her, there would be a sickening cracking noise as he re-socketed his fingers back into place enough to then close the hand into a fist. Taking a second to catch his breath, he refocused, standing in a ready stance.
(Galem used a Second Wind, regaining 20 HP!)
Orin would purse her lips as she rotated her arm. He was prepared this time, and while she knew it, she was greedy enough to take the risk of attacking him.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Despite his readiness, as the half-orc caught her wrist, stopping her first ax attack, he wasn't expecting her knee to come up straight into his gut. He'd lose breath, stumbling back before throwing her off to the side before swinging his balled up fist at her.
Stepping in with a one-two combo, a knee of his own would follow the punch.
1d20+5
1d20+5 ; 6 damage
As Orin blocked the fist strike, she had moved her shield up to do it. Even with his damaged fingers, Galem would fight through the pain, taking the opportunity to level a knee straight to the top of her sternum.
Orin would stagger backwards, but not enough to be out of range, bringing her axe around, she stepped in with a back stroke, coming into the opposite direction than she had previously.
1d20+5
Galem stepped completely to the side, and Orin's axe met the same fate that the greatsword had- she swung down with such ferocity that the handle couldn't take it, the head shattering from the rest of the weapon. Ducking a backhand from Galem, she would swing her shield into the same spot, twisting in a full circle to do so.
1d20+5
The half-orc champion took the blow as Orin hit him with such force that she knocked him up to the top of the ring that rested about eight feet off the ground. He spun, coming to his feet as Orin and Galem looked at each other for a second, panting heavily.
No words would be exchanged. The rest of the grounds had stopped and gathered around their match, watching intently. Galem would wipe his hand across his tusks, and Orin would remain focused, breathing heavily. The half-man would roar, though, throwing himself at Orin in a spear from the ring.
1d20+5
The two would land, rolling in a chaotic tussle that would wind up with Galem behind Orin. The crease of his elbow met the front of her neck, the forearm and bicep pressing against either side as he pulled back into a grapple, lifting the eladrin from her feet. "Don't worry. You'll only go out like a bitch," the half-orc would sneer into Orin's ear. Her vision would start fading fast, and she just reacted.
As he drug her upward, Orin would fizzle from existence, appearing under his grapple. The mist would spark, and the wispy trail would ignite in a golden flash fire that burnt Galem. Not much, but just enough for Orin to escape the grapple. As he held his face in pain, Orin would make her way to a weapons rack, retrieving another weapon- a longsword, before stepping back in to swing at him.
1d20+5
Orin swung it like an axe, though, instead of a longsword, and it bounced off of the thigh of the half-orc's plate armor.
Shaking his head, Galem would step forward, and instead of swinging, would attempt to grab Orin's shield from her!
1d20+9 Galem's Athletics vs. 1d20+2 Orin's Athletics. (Mistake was made earlier. My bad.)
Orin saw it coming from a mile away. Adjusting her grip, she would pull in, then lunge her full weight into him. They both fell to the ground, with the eladrin rolling over the half-orc. Coming to her feet as he was still prone, the eladrin would swing the sword straight down to her vulnerable target.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5 ; 1d8+3
Knowing the fight wasn't over from that strike, Orin continued, kicking the half-orc in the ribs while he was down.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5
Galem would roll to the side, standing up. Instead of waiting for someone to throw a weapon, he would stumble over to the same rack that Orin had pulled a weapon from, aiming to do the same- but not before Orin took her opportunity to attack.
1d20+5
The orc brought his bracers up, deflecting Orin's blow before staggering to the rack, grabbing his own longsword. Without a shield, though, he would clinch both hands around the handle, swinging at Orin with much more power than she could muster as he ran back in with a wild swing, then a second wild swing.
1d20+9
1d20+9
Orin would step back, letting him swing wildly and wide, then duck under the second strike as he cleaved through another arm of the training dummy she had been thrown into. Calls and cheers had begun to come from the other soldiers in the area- no gambling, but this had went on longer than most thought it would. The goliath would unfurl his arms from behind him and cross the tree-sized forearms over his broad, scarred chest in silent interest that was rising by the minute.
The eladrin would swing her longsword, aiming for the center of mass. Any hit that she could get, any damage she could sink in as her body started to ache more and more the longer this took.
1d20+5
Orin would hit, but square in the middle of the armored chest, doing nothing as the half-man champion pressed into Orin again.
1d20+9
Orin would duck him again- even with two hands, his swings were too wild, too used to the weight of a blade much bigger, and Orin would take advantage once again. She would press the shield into him, explode upward and use his own imbalance in order to throw him over her. He would land into the dirt with a thud, losing his breath and his focus on his second attack.
By the time he would have even thought to swing, though, Orin would be on top of him, not wanting to waste this opportunity against her prone opponent.
1d20+5 or 1d20+5 ; 1d8+2
DM Note: (Modifier on Orin's damage rolls was wrong on a couple of attacks. This has been corrected within the HP I'm keeping track of.)
Orin would make contact, but it wouldn't be satisfying enough for her. Instead of swinging her shield, though, Orin would take a moment to adjust her grip.
In that moment, Galem would pop up from the ground. There was no style or finesse in his swing- it was all power.
1d20+9 ; 1d8+5
It was with that powerful swing that Galem would surprise everyone. He lunged instead, and Orin couldn't correct in time. He stepped in, and even though the edges of the longsword had been dulled, it still found it's way through the eladrin's armor. She would exhale in surprise, her eyes going wide in pain as it overwhelmed her senses. Her arms dropped to her side, the shield and the sword falling to the ground as everyone silenced their cheers to watch, some in surprise, others in awe at what the half-orc had just accomplished with a blunt sword with no point.
"Remember this next time, elf-bitch, and know your place," Galem would snarl at her as she chuckled, blood running from her lips. He would purse his lips, his tusks pressed above his lips harshly as he came closer. "What's-so-damn-funny?!"
"I think- you should probably remember- this more," Orin would say back through labored breaths. "This is- the deepest- you'll ever get- in a woman- with a face like that." His eyes would widened in rage as Orin let loose a chuckle before coughing. "Was it good- for you?" With that, Galem would bring up his foot, kicking Orin square in the face to remove the blade from her, her body falling limp, her vision fading into unconsciousness. Her vision quickly faded to black with several people moving toward her, and a large footfall landing over her.
Final HP count:
Galem (half-orc Champion, {p. 212 Volo's Guide to Monsters} CR 9): 95/143
Orin: (warlock without magic or invocations; assumed to be level five for this thread) 0/381d20+2·1d20+2·1d20+9·2d6+5·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d8+2·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+9·1d20+9·2d6+5·1d20+5·1d8+2·1d20+5·1d20+9·2d6+5·1d20+9·2d6+5·1d8+3·1d20+2·1d20+2·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d4+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d8+3·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d20+3·1d20+5·1d6·1d6·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d8+3·1d20+9·1d20+9·1d20+9··2d6+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d20+5·2d6+5·1d20+9·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d4+3·1d20+5·2d8+3·1d20+5·1d4·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+2·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d8+3·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d20+9·1d20+5·1d20+5·1d8+2·1d20+9·1d8+5
