Post by Markas Virnala on Mar 20, 2020 15:08:54 GMT
Mid-morning, 9th Ches, the compound of the Crimson First
After getting over the initial relief at seeing Sunday back in one piece, and hearing out her take on the previous day's trip to the Hells, a decision is made to find and distract the Half-Orc from his wandering thoughts. Making a stop at the Ettin to collect Ghesh, Markas and Sunday make their way to the OCF compound to find Baine lost in his thoughts.
After finally convincing him to spar with them (“wanna fight?” - “Yeah ok”), the three combatants square off against each other, The Half-Elf & the Dragonborn vs the Half-Orc.
As Sunday sits on the bench of flowers she conjured many months and feeds Frankie handfuls of seeds and corn, the three stand, poised to rush the others. Baine brandishing his Maul, the flames creating dancing lights across his face, Ghesh’s trusty Morning Star finding its home in his muscular hands and Markas’ hand loosely resting on the hilt of the Dragon Scimitar waiting to be used again.
Without warning, the pair rush Baine. Markas, smaller and quicker than the imposing Dragonborn reaches their opponent first, unsheaving and lashing out twice in quick succession with his Scimitar, the first deflecting off Baines armour before finding an opening for the second to slice into his skin. He follows up with a couple of open palm strikes to hold the Half-Orc off before spinning off to one side as Ghesh reaches them.
Letting out a roar and following closely behind Markas, Ghesh also charges Baine, reaching and bringing his Morning Star round just as Markas clears the way. Unfortunately, the adrenaline now surging through Baine, he parries each blow, holding off the assault long enough to find his own opportunity to attack, knocking aside the pointed star of Ghesh’s weapon before bringing the flaming Maul round for two consecutive hits to the once-pit fighter, bellowing out an intimidating cry as he does to match Ghesh’s own. There is the barest flinch from Ghesh as he hears Baine roar back at him, not from intimidation, just surprise at the volume when in such close proximity.
Slipping away from the fray as the two titans trade blows with each other, Markas darts over to Sunday for some tactical advice. Sunday - now magically disguising herself as a middle-aged balding, paunchy human male with a towel draped over their shoulder and wearing a tracksuit - tells Markas to "Stick and move! Stick and move!" She gives him a slice of orange, laced with Holy Water, and shoves him back towards the fight. As Markas dashes back into the frey, Sunday Minor Illusions a bell in the air above the fight, calling out "Ding, ding! Round 2!"
A little confused at the appearance of the citrusy snack, but trusting Sunday’s judgement, Markas sprints back into the fray, ducking under a wide swing of Baines Maul and brings his own sword up, slicing at him as he moves before pirouetting past the pair, lashing out with another cut into the Half-Orc’s side before kicking off his frame and dodging aside as Ghesh ruthlessly swings the Morning Star back around in three quick swings, the first managing to knock Baine back just enough for the second to connect with his head, but not enough to stop him bringing his own weapon up in time to stop a third swing.
Baine takes the briefest moment to steady himself and shakes his head to clear it. Deciding on a change of tactic, he swings the maul round in a long low sweep, knocking the monk's legs out from under him. Finding himself on the floor again, MArkas brings his sword up defensively but it does little to stop the crushing force as Baine slams it down into the prone Half-Elf in two devastating hammer blows.
At the edge of the arena, her bare feet neatly tucked under her, Sunday looks down at Frankie as she scratches him behind the ears. “I wonder if your dad is as good at following those Commands as he is at giving them to you?” She turns to regard the half-orc in the middle of the whirling melee, calling out: “Baine? SIT!”
A little winded for being smashed into the floor but knowing he needs to get away from here, Markas flips up off the floor, arcing his sword down onto Baine’s shoulder as he lands on his feet before pulling it free and stepping to the side, lashing out again as he goes. Baine, already familiar with this move, brings the maul round hard into his ribs, sending the monk’s second attack wide but providing the momentum for the monk to continue on, spinning in place and following up with a strong kick to Fighter’s abdomen.
As Ghesh tries to find an opening to move past Markas and continue his own assault, the words of the tiefling echo out over the sound of combat. As Markas is knocked aside by the last swing of Baine’s Maul, he snarls and moves in again, swinging three times but only managing to drive the morning Star into Baine’s side once. The raging dragonborn yells in frustration. “Didn’t you hear what Sunday said? You should be on the ground!”
Even as Sunday spoke, a deep grimace crosses Baine’s face, regardless of the attacks he is trying to fend off as he tries to resist the power of her words until, finally, he is unable to resist anymore and drops heavily to the floor in a seated position. Cackling at her success, Sunday leaps up to stand on the bench. “Get him, Markas! Use the battlefield!”
Markas brings the Dragon Scimitar down in an overhand slash, cutting deep into Baine as he crouches low himself. As the blade comes free, a quick twist and flick brings the sword back up in an arc that rakes across the Half-Orcs armour, the monk rising with the blade and backflipping away to a safe distance, out of the mauls reach
As soon as Markas moves away, any respite the Half-Orc thought he might have to stand again is shattered as Ghesh closes in on him with another assault of his Morning Star, Raining three thundering blows on his vulnerable opponent, pummeling against his armour hard enough to cause damage through the plate.
Through the blood a dirt, a fierce determination comes over Baine. Finally having enough, he forces himself to his feet under Ghesh’s onslaught and throws a hand out trying to shove him back off of him, unsettling the Dragonborn just long enough to plant his feet and raise the Maul up in an upward swing that goes wide off the Dragonborn. As Ghesh moves back in, however, Baine uses the weight of the Maul to bring it back down hard on his shoulder and stop the incoming attack. Seeing another opening, he tries to shove the dragon born back again, knocking him off his feet before raining scorching blows down on his scaly opponent. As the second crushing blow connects with the downed Pit fighter, A searing pain carves its way across Baines Back as Markas sprints back into the fray, delivering another deep slice with his sword before delivering a strong backhanded fist to Baine’s temple as he passes, using his momentum to maintain his distance from the whirlwind of Steel and Fire in the centre of the arena.
Seizing the moment of respite from Baine’s assault, Ghesh throws himself up onto his feet driving his Morning Star into Baine’s side, sending the large man reeling away from his second attack. In a rage, the Dragonborn advances on Baine, bringing his weapon around again in another crushing attack. Luckily, even in his rage, he sees Baine tapping out, admitting his defeat and manages to pull his attack short at the last second as Baine steps away from the fight.
Baine whistles sharply for Frankie who jumps off the bench and follows him away from the arena, obediently following to the door of Varis’ quarters. Baine opens it to let him back in before stalking off to stick his head in a water barrel, muttering about people “always getting in his fuckin’ head.”
Sunday watches him go with a raised eyebrow, before shrugging and jumping down from the bench. She wanders casually over to Markas, patting him on the shoulder and whispering something in his ear.
Taking a deep breath as Sunday skips back to her seat, Markas turns to Ghesh before breaking into a wide grin, “keep going?”. The wide toothy grin he gets in response is answer enough.
Markas rushes Ghesh, taking advantage of his slightly tired state after his onslaught against Baine, making precise cuts and blows on the larger man, trying to find a weak spot and interrupt his flow of energy but the dragon born stands strong. In retaliation, Ghesh swings out against Markas, landing two solid blows on his smaller frame, despite the nimbleness of the monk trying to get out the way in time.
As Markas dances forward again, pressing his own attack, his sword begins to glow with a soft golden-green light; a hue that matches the colour of Sunday’s hair and armour. Taken aback by the sudden and unexpected change in his weapon, the Half-Elf makes two quick passes of his sword at the dragonborn only for both to go wide. He plants a foot, steps in towards his larger opponent, delivering two open palm strikes directly in the chest of Ghesh.
Holding his ground and still roaring in rage, the Dragon born begins battering down on his smaller opponent. His first swing of the Morning Star being deflected away, he continues the assault, putting on pressure and breaking through the monks defense, the crunch of bone under his last attack audible over the din.
In a flash of speed, Markas makes two quick slashes with his sword against Ghesh before springing back out of reach and sets off at a run again. There is another roar behind him as Ghesh breaks into a run after him and, in frustration at being outpaced, begins hurling his Javelins at the Grey monk, the missiles speeding high and wide as Markas keeps on the move, maintaining some breathing space between him and Ghesh. In response to the javelin salvo, he half-heartedly hurls a few darts at his pursuer as he goes, both of which harmless bounce off the scales of the Dragonborn.
With a burst of speed, Ghesh closes some of the distance. He opens his mouth wide and gouts forth a burst of acidic fluid. A look of panic flashes over Markas’ face, but a quick dive and roll to one side sees him clear of the corrosive spray. As Markas turns and closes the distance to the waiting dragonborn, he hears Sunday groaning in mock weariness.
“Oh my gooooooods, can someone just hit someone else already!? This is more boring than one of Rholor’s sermons! Ooo, I know...” And she lifts a hand into the air with a melodramatic flourish.
Markas reaches the dragonborn, deflecting the morning star to one side with his sword before bringing the blade back in a flash of light to cut through his scales and slamming his foot into the new wound. All the while, the two combatants feel the ground beneath them begin to rumble. Small pebbles and clods of earth drift up from the ground as though carried by invisible hands, freezing and shattering in mid-air as they climb upwards into the sky. The sparse foliage and greenery sporadically emerging from cracks in the compound’s hard earth starts to cover over in hoarfrost and ice.
“Clock’s ticking!” Sunday sings from the sidelines.
The Morning star crashes down on the waiting monk again, finally knocking his sword aside. With one last almighty swing, Ghesh brings it back around, smashing into Markas and knocking him to the ground, unconscious.
Ghesh stands triumphant, chest heaving and blood still dripping to the floor, reliving his past combat victories again as the rage finally starts to subside. Seeing the fight is over, the hoarfrost and ice begin to recede as Sunday walks into the arena and kneels next to Markas, waking him up with a divine slap to the face.
Joint effort with Ser Baine Cinderwood 🔥🌼 Ghesh Sunday
After getting over the initial relief at seeing Sunday back in one piece, and hearing out her take on the previous day's trip to the Hells, a decision is made to find and distract the Half-Orc from his wandering thoughts. Making a stop at the Ettin to collect Ghesh, Markas and Sunday make their way to the OCF compound to find Baine lost in his thoughts.
After finally convincing him to spar with them (“wanna fight?” - “Yeah ok”), the three combatants square off against each other, The Half-Elf & the Dragonborn vs the Half-Orc.
As Sunday sits on the bench of flowers she conjured many months and feeds Frankie handfuls of seeds and corn, the three stand, poised to rush the others. Baine brandishing his Maul, the flames creating dancing lights across his face, Ghesh’s trusty Morning Star finding its home in his muscular hands and Markas’ hand loosely resting on the hilt of the Dragon Scimitar waiting to be used again.
Without warning, the pair rush Baine. Markas, smaller and quicker than the imposing Dragonborn reaches their opponent first, unsheaving and lashing out twice in quick succession with his Scimitar, the first deflecting off Baines armour before finding an opening for the second to slice into his skin. He follows up with a couple of open palm strikes to hold the Half-Orc off before spinning off to one side as Ghesh reaches them.
Letting out a roar and following closely behind Markas, Ghesh also charges Baine, reaching and bringing his Morning Star round just as Markas clears the way. Unfortunately, the adrenaline now surging through Baine, he parries each blow, holding off the assault long enough to find his own opportunity to attack, knocking aside the pointed star of Ghesh’s weapon before bringing the flaming Maul round for two consecutive hits to the once-pit fighter, bellowing out an intimidating cry as he does to match Ghesh’s own. There is the barest flinch from Ghesh as he hears Baine roar back at him, not from intimidation, just surprise at the volume when in such close proximity.
Slipping away from the fray as the two titans trade blows with each other, Markas darts over to Sunday for some tactical advice. Sunday - now magically disguising herself as a middle-aged balding, paunchy human male with a towel draped over their shoulder and wearing a tracksuit - tells Markas to "Stick and move! Stick and move!" She gives him a slice of orange, laced with Holy Water, and shoves him back towards the fight. As Markas dashes back into the frey, Sunday Minor Illusions a bell in the air above the fight, calling out "Ding, ding! Round 2!"
A little confused at the appearance of the citrusy snack, but trusting Sunday’s judgement, Markas sprints back into the fray, ducking under a wide swing of Baines Maul and brings his own sword up, slicing at him as he moves before pirouetting past the pair, lashing out with another cut into the Half-Orc’s side before kicking off his frame and dodging aside as Ghesh ruthlessly swings the Morning Star back around in three quick swings, the first managing to knock Baine back just enough for the second to connect with his head, but not enough to stop him bringing his own weapon up in time to stop a third swing.
Baine takes the briefest moment to steady himself and shakes his head to clear it. Deciding on a change of tactic, he swings the maul round in a long low sweep, knocking the monk's legs out from under him. Finding himself on the floor again, MArkas brings his sword up defensively but it does little to stop the crushing force as Baine slams it down into the prone Half-Elf in two devastating hammer blows.
At the edge of the arena, her bare feet neatly tucked under her, Sunday looks down at Frankie as she scratches him behind the ears. “I wonder if your dad is as good at following those Commands as he is at giving them to you?” She turns to regard the half-orc in the middle of the whirling melee, calling out: “Baine? SIT!”
A little winded for being smashed into the floor but knowing he needs to get away from here, Markas flips up off the floor, arcing his sword down onto Baine’s shoulder as he lands on his feet before pulling it free and stepping to the side, lashing out again as he goes. Baine, already familiar with this move, brings the maul round hard into his ribs, sending the monk’s second attack wide but providing the momentum for the monk to continue on, spinning in place and following up with a strong kick to Fighter’s abdomen.
As Ghesh tries to find an opening to move past Markas and continue his own assault, the words of the tiefling echo out over the sound of combat. As Markas is knocked aside by the last swing of Baine’s Maul, he snarls and moves in again, swinging three times but only managing to drive the morning Star into Baine’s side once. The raging dragonborn yells in frustration. “Didn’t you hear what Sunday said? You should be on the ground!”
Even as Sunday spoke, a deep grimace crosses Baine’s face, regardless of the attacks he is trying to fend off as he tries to resist the power of her words until, finally, he is unable to resist anymore and drops heavily to the floor in a seated position. Cackling at her success, Sunday leaps up to stand on the bench. “Get him, Markas! Use the battlefield!”
Markas brings the Dragon Scimitar down in an overhand slash, cutting deep into Baine as he crouches low himself. As the blade comes free, a quick twist and flick brings the sword back up in an arc that rakes across the Half-Orcs armour, the monk rising with the blade and backflipping away to a safe distance, out of the mauls reach
As soon as Markas moves away, any respite the Half-Orc thought he might have to stand again is shattered as Ghesh closes in on him with another assault of his Morning Star, Raining three thundering blows on his vulnerable opponent, pummeling against his armour hard enough to cause damage through the plate.
Through the blood a dirt, a fierce determination comes over Baine. Finally having enough, he forces himself to his feet under Ghesh’s onslaught and throws a hand out trying to shove him back off of him, unsettling the Dragonborn just long enough to plant his feet and raise the Maul up in an upward swing that goes wide off the Dragonborn. As Ghesh moves back in, however, Baine uses the weight of the Maul to bring it back down hard on his shoulder and stop the incoming attack. Seeing another opening, he tries to shove the dragon born back again, knocking him off his feet before raining scorching blows down on his scaly opponent. As the second crushing blow connects with the downed Pit fighter, A searing pain carves its way across Baines Back as Markas sprints back into the fray, delivering another deep slice with his sword before delivering a strong backhanded fist to Baine’s temple as he passes, using his momentum to maintain his distance from the whirlwind of Steel and Fire in the centre of the arena.
Seizing the moment of respite from Baine’s assault, Ghesh throws himself up onto his feet driving his Morning Star into Baine’s side, sending the large man reeling away from his second attack. In a rage, the Dragonborn advances on Baine, bringing his weapon around again in another crushing attack. Luckily, even in his rage, he sees Baine tapping out, admitting his defeat and manages to pull his attack short at the last second as Baine steps away from the fight.
Baine whistles sharply for Frankie who jumps off the bench and follows him away from the arena, obediently following to the door of Varis’ quarters. Baine opens it to let him back in before stalking off to stick his head in a water barrel, muttering about people “always getting in his fuckin’ head.”
Sunday watches him go with a raised eyebrow, before shrugging and jumping down from the bench. She wanders casually over to Markas, patting him on the shoulder and whispering something in his ear.
Taking a deep breath as Sunday skips back to her seat, Markas turns to Ghesh before breaking into a wide grin, “keep going?”. The wide toothy grin he gets in response is answer enough.
Markas rushes Ghesh, taking advantage of his slightly tired state after his onslaught against Baine, making precise cuts and blows on the larger man, trying to find a weak spot and interrupt his flow of energy but the dragon born stands strong. In retaliation, Ghesh swings out against Markas, landing two solid blows on his smaller frame, despite the nimbleness of the monk trying to get out the way in time.
As Markas dances forward again, pressing his own attack, his sword begins to glow with a soft golden-green light; a hue that matches the colour of Sunday’s hair and armour. Taken aback by the sudden and unexpected change in his weapon, the Half-Elf makes two quick passes of his sword at the dragonborn only for both to go wide. He plants a foot, steps in towards his larger opponent, delivering two open palm strikes directly in the chest of Ghesh.
Holding his ground and still roaring in rage, the Dragon born begins battering down on his smaller opponent. His first swing of the Morning Star being deflected away, he continues the assault, putting on pressure and breaking through the monks defense, the crunch of bone under his last attack audible over the din.
In a flash of speed, Markas makes two quick slashes with his sword against Ghesh before springing back out of reach and sets off at a run again. There is another roar behind him as Ghesh breaks into a run after him and, in frustration at being outpaced, begins hurling his Javelins at the Grey monk, the missiles speeding high and wide as Markas keeps on the move, maintaining some breathing space between him and Ghesh. In response to the javelin salvo, he half-heartedly hurls a few darts at his pursuer as he goes, both of which harmless bounce off the scales of the Dragonborn.
With a burst of speed, Ghesh closes some of the distance. He opens his mouth wide and gouts forth a burst of acidic fluid. A look of panic flashes over Markas’ face, but a quick dive and roll to one side sees him clear of the corrosive spray. As Markas turns and closes the distance to the waiting dragonborn, he hears Sunday groaning in mock weariness.
“Oh my gooooooods, can someone just hit someone else already!? This is more boring than one of Rholor’s sermons! Ooo, I know...” And she lifts a hand into the air with a melodramatic flourish.
Markas reaches the dragonborn, deflecting the morning star to one side with his sword before bringing the blade back in a flash of light to cut through his scales and slamming his foot into the new wound. All the while, the two combatants feel the ground beneath them begin to rumble. Small pebbles and clods of earth drift up from the ground as though carried by invisible hands, freezing and shattering in mid-air as they climb upwards into the sky. The sparse foliage and greenery sporadically emerging from cracks in the compound’s hard earth starts to cover over in hoarfrost and ice.
“Clock’s ticking!” Sunday sings from the sidelines.
The Morning star crashes down on the waiting monk again, finally knocking his sword aside. With one last almighty swing, Ghesh brings it back around, smashing into Markas and knocking him to the ground, unconscious.
Ghesh stands triumphant, chest heaving and blood still dripping to the floor, reliving his past combat victories again as the rage finally starts to subside. Seeing the fight is over, the hoarfrost and ice begin to recede as Sunday walks into the arena and kneels next to Markas, waking him up with a divine slap to the face.
Joint effort with Ser Baine Cinderwood 🔥🌼 Ghesh Sunday