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Fierach

Feast of Blades: Trueblade Round 3: Hit the Deck

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Hit the Deck:

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The Agrippa class destroyer is the newest, and smallest warship in the Order of Force Majeure airfleet. You would be fighting upon the main deck of one of them, weaving inbetween the large guns that dot the deck. Anchored upon the high docking booms next to the Dawn Komturie, its quite windy up there, but the greatest thing to watch out for is the gentle sway underneath your feet. A solid foothold will serve you well here, jumping and other maneuvers that require less balance will take a hit. Be careful to not fall at a critical moment in battle, it may be your last. 

Round 3:

Mōmoku Akuja Kenshi, "Senjō no Ōkami" (Player: @Etched In Stone) versus Dauner Light (Player: @Dauner Light)

Battles begin 1/20/2020 and will run until 2/23/2020

WEAPON CONDITIONS: Only two weapons may be brought. Dual swords count as two. Shields are banned. Polearms are banned.

Edited by Fierach

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It was either he had a lot of luck or he had the skills to speak for him. Whichever it was, the fact that he had made it to the next round was real. Dauner made his way into the mechanical arena. The machinery here was a bit more complicated than what he was used to. The guns and the ship itself were all technology Dauner had only experienced after mysteriously appearing in this strange world.

His attire was the same as in his previous fight. A breastplate covering his chest, a vambrace on each arm,a poleyn on his each knee and a spaulder on each shoulder. On his left hip were his two swords, sheathed into their scabbards. Under his light armor, he wore a black shirt and black pants with dark blue sneakers.

Spoiler

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Dauner was first to get in place and began to do stretches while waiting for his opponent to make his way into the arena

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Twice now the Russian Meta had been denied the violence he so sought. A brief taste of such with the monk in the first round was hardly enough to quench his thirst. Fortune struck however, that that very mufukka had the gull to leave this Dauner cat hanging; Allowing Bishop the opportunity to instead fight this Dauner. With the tournament's current restrictions, Bishop widely remained unaffected by large. When he arrived on the scene, once again topless, his left taped fist was already equipped with one of his wretched spiked cestus. In his right hand he carried his morning star. As per last round, he was just as willing to forgo weapons altogether and commit to using nothing more than them hands. His cleat boots audibly clicked against the metallic deck of the war ship as he approach his now opponent.

"Kinda' small ain't ya'. Shiiid, then again so'm'I."

The Russian Meta mused with a snicker as he casually continued towards Dauner, his chrome teeth exposed in full; Complete with the two small gems, one for each canine on the top jaw. His narrowed, glassy, bloodshot, blue hazel eyes watched the small swordsman, immediately noting that the lads emphasis was in speed, then accuracy. For Bishop, this wouldn't be the first time he'd faced a small, boy-like opponent dressed in black donning Samurai swords. In his seasoned age, Bishop was curious how well the younger male would fare; He questioned if he could be bested by him. Hopefully, this match would have an actual victor before the time limit for the match had been met. He couldn't tell just yet, though he hoped the breezy environment wouldn't hinder his opponent too much. In his life, Bishop had lived, traveled, and fought on a myriad of different vessels. This particular one wasn't so much for him to put up with.

"I'll go ahead an'let y'know, th' mufucka' you was'spose t'be fightin' prolly had years on you, plenty of'em. Tha' quick draw shit ain't work f'him, so I wouldn'bet on it comin' thru' f'you eitha'."

Once those words had left his lips, Bishop was likely just outside of Dauner's striking range. If Dauner didn't take the liberty of striking first, Bishop would. Hopefully the boy had drawn at least one of his swords before Bishop decided to engage him, otherwise he'd find Bishop rapidly closing on him and neutralizing the range of his draw. Bishop lead with his left, his morning star in tow. His first attack came in the form of a foot stomp if Dauner let him get close enough, followed by a left jab. If there was no target for him to stomp on, he'd then open with said jab. If Dauner attempted to make the first strike however, then Bishop was prepared to defend and counter to the best of his ability. Just like any other opponent, he had but one goal in mind. Press the opponent, don't let up. Close the distance, keep him close. Break him.

@Dabi

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@Twitterpated

It wasn’t often that Dauner got to fight a cyborgy opponent and so the thrill was something he welcomed with opened arms. Bishop walked towards Dauner and made a comment about him being tiny. “I am? Ha ha ha ha. I guess I am” he laughed scratching he back of his head. “I’m Dauner A. Light. Nice meeting you. I am feeling excited to fight you today, so may the best man win. And…" he paused and tried to remember what came next. "I don’t really remember what comes next. Gozen said it would make me sound more polite. Any ways, let us get to fighting. And I’m gonna win!” he said with a wide grin on his face. He then drew his right sword just moments before Bishop launched himself at him. As Bishop’s leg drove towards Dauner, so too did Dauner’s body ride backwards avoiding the stomp. During this backward movement, Dauner drew his left sword before stopping to take the incoming fist. He used his left sword to parry the punch shifting Bishop’s weight away from him as he move his body in the opposite direction to make sure he completely dodged it. Then he launched his right sword at Bishop aiming for a diagonal slash across the midsection from the lower left to the upper right, while at the same time, lowering his left sword so it could handle any action that Bishop would undertake with the rest of his available limbs.

Edited by Dabi

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Good. This one wasn't as foolish as his prior opponent, opting to forgo weapons from the jump. Something Bishop only opted to respect when faced with a western style Boxing ring, for nothing more than respect to the environment. He drew a blade in preparation of Bishop's inevitable advance, drawing the other somewhere between stepping away and ultimately aiming to deflect Bishop's jab. The Russian Meta continued grinning wildly as he felt the sharp edge of the blade threatening his fist beyond the metal spikes and leather straps bound to it. Dauner was sorely mistaken if he thought the Meta was a cyborg, though he'd been known to associate with certain Cyberpunks on occasion. Though it was a natural assumption based on his fair complexion and chrome teeth. Bishop's punch remained true against the blade, his arm bending though not so easily being pushed away. Using swords it was obvious his opponent would want to maintain a certain amount of distance for better control of the battle overall. When the pressure against his fist eluded to Dauner's choice to move directly away from the direction of his deflection, Bishop lunged with Dauner's step, his right taking the lead as he swung the head of his wretched Morning Star for the swordsman's left hip.

@Dabi

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@Twitterpated

After having successfully evaded the stomp and dodged the jab sent at him, Dauner effectively swung his sword at Bishop in an attempt to slash him across the midsection. The slash having properly been set into motion, however, did not seem to bother Bishop. Did he think he could take the hit and go unscathed? Where did his confidence come from? Was his midsection made of metal? Whatever it was, it did not matter. Bishop seemed to be underestimating his opponent. He then swung his morning star at Dauner’s left hip. Luckily, Dauner already had his left sword waiting for such a situation. He moved it fast enough to block the incoming strike right before his right sword would make contact with bishop. His left sword would be able to hold firm against Bishop. He had worked his muscles hard to be able to perfectly handle his swords with just one hand each. Whatever outcome would come from the slash, Dauner would continue with a 270 degrees rotation before stomping Bishop’s midsection with his right leg, on the same place that had just been slashed. He would use Bishop’s body as a support upon which he would push his weight, making a jump away from his opponent almost immediately.

He would then pounce forward driving his right sword at bishop vertically downward from above while readying his left sword for any extra moves he might have to display. Should Bishop pounce forward first, then Dauner would sway his right sword horizontally aiming for his head, still readying his left sword for action. During his maneuvers, he would a perfect combination of speed, agility and strength, using all to his advantage.

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After having successfully evaded the stomp and dodged the jab sent at him, Dauner effectively swung his sword at Bishop in an attempt to slash him across the midsection. The slash having properly been set into motion, however, did not seem to bother Bishop.

The Jab was more effectively blocked than it was evaded, for the lunge of the Russian Meta occurred whilst Dauner stepped back. Simple enough, the lunge displaced Bishop from the target zone as the slash would have dictated. At this closer range than he'd anticipated, Dauner would likely realize that to commit to his slash was fodder compared to the option of using that left sword to straight up impale him. Did he think he could take the hit and go unscathed? Where did his confidence come from? Was his midsection made of metal? No, simply put, he just didn't give a fuck! If his opponent had perhaps decided to reverse the grip on the sword and alter the dimensions of his strike, then perhaps he could have cut Bishop as he'd planned to, As it were, however, Dauner's sword blocking the mace took the heavy his, imparting damage to the weapon all it's own. Such a crude weapon would brake these swords if he could hit them just like that maybe a couple of more times.

If Dauner failed to try for spinning around, Bishop immediately followed up with a fierce left upper cut at Dauner's chin. If the lad took the blow and was knocked back, or if he jumped back yet again, he'd find his nigh linear movements would inevitably place his back against one of them large guns scattered upon the deck. If Dauner tried to spin anyway, without the effective range of a kick to follow with the established proximity, He'd find that Bishop's feet planted firmly as that left arm instead hooked around Dauner's waist before latching onto him like a Bulldog on a bitch in heat. Without hesitation, he'd lift Dauner straight off his feet before flipping his entire world upside down; Executing a  suplex to drive him into the deck head first.

@Dabi

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Dauner’s slash was rendered less effective to an extent due to the little distance between him and his opponent. However, no matter how little the force applied to a blade, it would still be enough to seek blood from flesh. His left sword took the impact of the strike from the mace taking a certain degree of damage. This same close proximity made Dauner wary of his initial intention to spin and jump away. He decided against it as it would create an opening that could be fatal for him.

His left sword had just taken a hit from Bishop’s mace right of him. His left sword just having sliced away from Bishop’s chest leaving a trail of blood, even though the wound would not be a deep one. Continuing with this momentum would be risky but worth a shot. His body, which had already twisted rightward, continued in this motion as he pushed Bishop’s mace away. During this spin, he would bend down using his left leg to attempt clearing Bishop off his feet. Bishop would not have much space to dodge considering he was already very close to Dauner, and so were his legs to Dauner’s. If he tried jumping, Dauner would raise his leg slightly and it would effectively make contact throwing him to the ground. If he tried moving away to the right, Dauner’s leg would hook his right leg and throw him down. If he tried moving backwards, the same thing would happen. Ultimately, he had no way of dodging the tackle. Attacking from below would also ensure that Bishop’s uppercut would miss and if he tried punching Dauner, who was close to the ground, his legs would get swept off before he would be able to land the punch. Overall, Bishop’s earlier actions would ensure that he would not be able to land a hit on Dauner before being swept off his feet or dodge the tackle.

If Dauner were to succeed with his tackle, he would leap onto Bishop as soon as he completed his rotation with his right leg holding Bishop’s left hand down, his left knee falling onto Bishop’s chest, his left sword getting into position onto Bishop’s neck and his right sword being held up behind him waiting for a chance to strike should Bishop attempt any funny business.

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Spoiler

 

 

The boy had talent. Undeniable, monumental talent. His training had undoubtedly brought him skill. However, it was clear that Bishop's years of experience both in the streets and within many arena's; Hell, in warfare of any degree. Even holding back, this suplex would undoubtedly be detrimental, potentially fatal. Much more devastating than the laceration he'd suffered a brief moment ago. His adrenaline burst through his veins, to the point he hadn't noticed he'd been cut just yet. 

Quote

If Dauner tried to spin anyway, without the effective range of a kick to follow with the established proximity, He'd find that Bishop's feet planted firmly as that left arm instead hooked around Dauner's waist before latching onto him like a Bulldog on a bitch in heat. Without hesitation, he'd lift Dauner straight off his feet before flipping his entire world upside down; Executing a  suplex to drive him into the deck head first.

 

Quote

Continuing with this momentum would be risky but worth a shot. His body, which had already twisted rightward, continued in this motion as he pushed Bishop’s mace away. During this spin, he would bend down using his left leg to attempt clearing Bishop off his feet.

 

As Dauner tried to bend down, he was more easily hugged to his bloodied torso and hoisted off the the ground. Without pause or hesitation, Bishop executed perhaps one of the best slams of his lifetime. Everyone of his muscles flexed in unison as he arched his back and slammed the swordsman into the metallic deck of the vessel. The resulting THUNK!!! would be heard once his head smacked the deck, the brain smacking the inside of the skull however, wouldn't be. Once completed , Bishop remained posing, holding him their until he was certain the match was finished. Otherwise he'd fight to maintain control, only to slam the boy again in any variety of ways.

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@Dabi

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Dauner’s attempt to put his opponent out of commission was rendered null. He had expected Bishop to try backing off when he saw himself get injured but instead, Bishop launched in grabbing Dauner as he tried to perform a circular sweep. Dauner knew fairly well what was going to happen next. Within instants, he was lifted off the ground, and knocked down on his head with such force that his skull could have cracked if it were any weaker. This was hardly the first time he had been knocked hard on his head but it was the first time it was done in this manner.

Dauner took the impact to its fullest. He didn’t have much of a choice to be honest. Realizing the opening that Bishop made for himself as he landed the suplex on Dauner, Dauner did not let go of his swords. For a moment after the impact, his grip weakened and his swords would have fallen out had he not realized this and tightened his loose grip. Swords prepared, Dauner launched them at Bishop’s midsection from both directions. Should he fail this move, he would have a clear disadvantage from which recovering would be hard.

Dauner was at the edge now. There was no regaining the upper hand if his swords failed to make contact. Bishop was indeed a tough opponent. There was no denying the fact that besting him would be hard, and in Dauner’s present condition, near impossible. But finding and besting tougher opponents was the reason Dauner had joined the tournament in the first place. Therefore, no matter what happened, as long as he could still fight, he would.

Should Bishop get stabbed by the swords, he would release Dauner from his grip. If he however did not release Dauner, Dauner would run the swords through his flesh spilling more blood and, in the process, making him more vulnerable as his pain would increase, dulling his senses in a way and making him more open for attacks.

 

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"!?"

So the little bastard was still conscious. Bishop would never admit such aloud, though he was quite impressed by the younger fighter's endurance. It rivaled that of his own, in his own youth; Before he was dosed with the V. Had he not been restrained by the handicaps presented by this very event, Dauner's head would have likely exploded on impact with the deck. Something akin to what happen when a melon is dropped upon concrete from a rooftop. The boy was strong enough to retain the grip on his swords, though likely too disoriented to use them. Or so he may have been if his target wasn't literally touching him. By now his drugs should be wearing off, though that wasn't necessarily a bad thing since he was being entertained. Even still, there was no direction this fight could go in that didn't potentially warrant death. Fortunately for the both of them, the healers were already on standby, ready to rush to their aid as soon as one of them either submitted, or was rendered unable to continue. 

"!!!"

His eyes grew wide as he felt the burning sensation of blades piercing his torso somewhere just beyond his ribs. His legs trembled for a moment before retaining their firmness. His left arm still gripping Dauner. Once his footing was secured once more, he swung his mace around in the most over head manner possible, aiming to clap the exposed portion of Dauner's face/head with his morning star. Dauner's downfall was his kindness. It was his weakness. In the swordsman's defense however, this was not war or a deathmatch. This was a competition at best, and the modest warrior kept true to his nature even in the face of a hawkish devil such as Tzak The Ripper. If he persisted beyond the strike to his face, then Bishop would hit him in it again, and again, and again, until he would inevitably stop moving or unlikely submitted.

@Dabi 

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@Twitterpated

The end was nigh. Dauner, head planted onto the ground, had landed both swords into his opponents midsection. Alas, this strike was not enough to even the match. Bishop still had more tricks in his bag. He raised his mace and with it landed a smash onto Dauner’s head. “Ack!!!” Dauner exclaimed in pain. “Is this how mashed potatoes feel in the mortar?” he said to himself trying to let out a smile in his dilemma. He knew that he had reached the end of the road. After the battles he had gone through to arrive at this point, he had finally reached the end of the line. Even knowing this, he would not submit. Before he knew it, Bishop had already prepared his mace for another swing. Just before he would get his again, he would let out a final sentence. His words might not have been loud enough, but Bishop was close enough to hear them. ”It was a fun fight

Smash

That was it. The fight had finally come to a close with Bishop being the last man standing, and Dauner, having been knocked unconscious by Bishop’s morning star. The fight was short, but Dauner enjoyed every last second of it, and in the end, acknowledged his opponent’s skill before biting the dust, or in this case, the mace. The events that would follow would lead to Dauner being away from the arena by the medical team, who would attend to his injuries.

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The Russian Meta released the swordsman once he went limp. With practice yet without any real concern, Bishop was sure to pluck the blades from his torso completely before he could manage to roll from his opponent, blood spurting and dripping as he did so. Dropping his morning star, Bishop looked down to his own wounds as he grimaced, flames licking twixt his chrome teeth. Shaping his lips appropriately and with a controlled breath, Bishop exhaling a thin stream of fire that he angled first to one side before pausing and repeating the same feat to his other side. Effectively he cauterized the stab wounds as medics even rushed to his aid. The first one to try and touch him however, effectively had their hand smacked away by the back of one of his own. With the diagonal laceration still a little wet, Bishop grabbed his mace and found his feet once more. With one harsh swing he rid the weapon of most of the gore acquired from his opponent, save for the thin layer of blood that would soon dry upon it if he didn't clean it. 

Where he came from, Bishop was known as what was called a sadomasochist. Where most people had natural reactions and fears to pain, Bishop reveled in it. Both in dishing out punishment, and enduring it. His battle high grew when his opponent introduced additional pain onto him. As the lad was rushed off, Bishop had a smirk on his face. It hardly made up for his two no show opponents, though the bout itself was one that he admittedly enjoyed. Dauner might have been surprised at the shortness of the match, though Bishop typically only had short fights, for better or worse. His recklessness and deceiving brawn the culprit either which way. Producing a label-less soft pack from his pocket, he shook it and applied a mild grip at the approximate moment necessary to leave a single filtered tip exposed. Taking it twixt his lips, he pulled the single smoke free from the pack. As he pocketed said pack, he produced a zippo in it's wake. Flipping the top and striking the wic, he lit the opposing end of the lho stick with a reassuring drag. Slapping the top shut once more, he pocketed his lighter as he sighed in exhaled, blueish hued plumes of smoke escaping his face and trailing him in his wake as he silently went back to the festival for more food and booze. 'Dauner...'

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