[@DJAtomika]

[i]The icy wind cascaded against Gonad's body, deeply chilling him. He was surprised, snapped right out of his thoughts. They had ice magic in his homeworld, but rarely did the Northmen use it. It probably wouldn't be long at all before the freezing power of the ring began causing serious damage. Regardless, he was a berserker. Pain meant nothing to him, and there was a little time left to return the favor. Things were vastly different at this range. Gonad's range.

Without missing a beat Gonad's left hand shot out, like a piston. It wouldn't be to cave in Galliard's face, no. The barbarian had decided to instead suddenly grab the Emperor's right arm as the sword was raised up over his head, just below the elbow. At this range, against this barbarian, blades were obsolete. Gonad was two-hundred pounds heavier, and all of it was effective muscle. An advantage equalling in mass at least two thirds of King Galliard's body weight.
Gonad was a one trick pony. He had no forged weapons, little armor, no skill in magic, and his reach could never extend further than his finger tips. In the realm of physical unarmed combat, however, even the gods dared not to trespass in his presence.

If he succeeded in restricting the King's arm in place, then with bare flesh cracking from the cold, Gonad would launch his first true attack of the battle. His bushy eyebrows furrowed into a stern scowl as he cocked his head back. A headbutt!? His forehead was creased with scars and as hard as a rock. No doubt dental plans in the barbarian's homeland included Gonad insurance. Then came the left knee instead.

Not a headbutt, a knee. The broad, bony kneecap came scorching up like an inverted sledgehammer, set to impact Guzman's unprotected right flank with enough cataclysmic impetus to crack his lower ribs like birch sticks and pulverize his liver like a chunk of beef beneath a meat hammer. There was even an audible "whoosh" as the blow came, the air itself fleeing before the awful might. Obscene wads of engorged muscle strained and rippled from within his thighs and calves, as if fighting to escape the flesh that bound them. Gonad wasn't merely attacking with the strength of his muscles, but also with the raw force of will that they kept chained within him. This was a man that held nothing back, one that lived and breathed with each motion. Nothing but the knee of Gonad existed, and it was a fierce, cruel deity.

 [/i]